#the Witcher x injured reader

[jasmines-library]

You'll Be Okay.

Geralt of Rivia/The Witchers x Injured Reader.

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

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

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

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

⭒ Masterlist ⭒

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

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

“Here comes trouble.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm.”

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

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

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

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

“Here’s to another winter together.”

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

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

“To family” chortled everyone. 

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

“Eskel!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

“Or maybe I just let you win.”

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

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

“I had to save her.”

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

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

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

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Nothing.”

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

“Eskel. He’s acting strange.”

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…”

“Geralt.”

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

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

“But you told Eskel?”

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

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

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

“You hate Bruxae.” Geralt stated. 

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…” Eskel panted back. “Geralt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘

“That’s what we thought.”

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

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

“Eskel…” You wheezed, “Please…stop.”

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

[scarlet2007]

₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.

[ Master list ]

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

Word count: 3.3k

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.

The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.

"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.

"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.

You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.

"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.

"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.

"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.

Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.

The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.

"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.

"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.

"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.

"Speak."

You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.

"What makes you think that?"

"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.

The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.

Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.

He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.

"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.

"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.

The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.

The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.

"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.

"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.

"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.

"What is it?"

You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.

"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."

The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.

"They knew that there was a beast?"

You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."

The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.

"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"

The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."

The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."

"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.

"It's outside the woods."

"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.

"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.

"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."

"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"

"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.

"Why? Isn't the town safer?"

You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.

Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.

The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.

The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.

As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.

"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.

"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.

The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.

Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.

"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.

You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared.  Oh, you were so so scared.

A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.

You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.

You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.

"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.

"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.

"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"

"Burn her!"

"Kill her!"

Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.

"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.

"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.

"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.

You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.

"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.

"I will keep her."

That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.

He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.

He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.

"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.

The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.

"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.

"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.

The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.

"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.

You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.

"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.

"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.

He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.

"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.

"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.

You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.

"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.

He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.

"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.

After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.

After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.

"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.

"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.

"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.

"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.

"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."

You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"

And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.

꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 1 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds), my shitty titles (I’m so bad at it, I’m so sorry)

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

Notes: Look,  I was in the mood for writing something cute and fluffy and magical (but also it's Geralt so it as to be angsty). I know those are probably not the words that come to your mind when you think of Geralt, but let me change your mind! Also I love writing healers/nature witches. Can you tell my fav character as a kid was Flora from Winx Club? 

This is my first time writing something like this (as in this style of narrative and for this character in particular) so be gentle!

PART 2 || PART 3

Geralt was not used to feeling that way. In his many years of living on this earth, he had never missed anyone the way he missed her. He was a lone wolf who, despite having his pack, enjoyed traveling from town to town with his horse as his only companion. He enjoyed the silence and tranquility, and did not tend to miss home too much —finding that his annual visits in the winter were more than enough to catch up with his brothers while healing his wounds. 

However, he did miss her when he was traveling. He missed feeling the warm touch of her skilled hands on his wounds as she healed him. He missed waking up to the sound of her laughter, talking to her cat as she prepared breakfast. He even missed her scolding and the look of concern she gave him every time he arrived at the door of her cabin hidden in the forest, injured. She made him feel special, often occupying his thoughts and dreams. He knew what it was, but refused to call it by name —if he did, it became real and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Such was his longing to see her that he was almost happy to be wounded in battle, finding the perfect excuse to show up at her door once again. His wounds were deep, the beast's venom slowly spreading through his system. Were it not for the fact that he was close to her home, Geralt was fairly certain he would not have reached her in time. His healing skills were limited and only served to make his journey to the hut more bearable. Yet, the closer he got to her, the less his body ached. The promise of her company alone was enough to cure his afflictions.

Geralt was weak when he arrived at her door. From the way her natural cheerful expression turned into a worried grimace when she saw him on the other side of the wood, it was safe to assume he was not looking good. She rushed him to bed, asking him a thousand questions as she paced back and forth, gathering the necessary herbs and potions to treat his wounds. He answered no more than necessary, giving her just enough information to treat him and sparing her the details of his journey. 

He was distracted, his mind clouded by the lack of blood and the poison spreading through his body, but also by the sweet floral scent that surrounded him. It was a perfume he could only describe as the very essence of her, a mixture of jasmine, roses and a hint of vanilla that followed her everywhere, leaving a special scent in the air that assaulted the witcher's nostrils, rendering him powerless. 

"Drink this," she told him as she offered him a vial of a pale green liquid. It was a potion that would help with the poison, she explained, though he needed no reason to obey her. Geralt trusted her completely and would have drank anything she offered without question. 

"Try to hold still, this might sting a little." She warned him, pushing his clothes aside so she could treat the deep gash in his chest. She smeared her fingers with a paste that had a peculiar odor, rubbing it over her hands to warm it before directing them to the wound. Geralt was met with a burning sensation that spread from his wound to the rest of his chest as soon as her fingers made contact with his skin. He let out a grunt, fighting the spasms of his muscles to allow her to work comfortably. However, the burning was soon replaced by a sensation of pleasant warmth as she uttered an incantation in the ancient tongue. 

He concentrated on the harmonious sound of her voice, letting the words transport him back to that first time they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had been hired by the king to assassinate the beast that had killed the princess. It was said that it prowled the forest after sunset, it was there that the young girl had met her fatal fate. Her love for nature and the long walks under the moonlight was what had ultimately made her an easy prey for that monster. Geralt did not retain the specific details of that story, only what was useful to analyze his enemy. Had he done so, he might have realized that there were strange things in the story that would make any Witcher suspicious. And perhaps then he would not have been so surprised when he found the princess very much alive and well, wandering through the forest alone.

"Please, don't make me go back there." She had begged him after explaining that she had taken advantage of the beast's convenient appearance to escape from her home. "There's nothing waiting for me back there, only a future of unhappiness and subjugation to a man that doesn't respect me."

"I was hired to kill a beast and that's all I intend to do." Was his reply. He was more than ready to continue on his way, to leave her behind to sort out her fate while he dealt with what he had been hired to do, but the princess did not give him the opportunity. She begged for his help to escape from there, she didn't care where he took her as long as he got her as far away from her kingdom as possible. Her escape had not been planned, but a last minute decision that had not allowed her to pack supplies or even steal a horse from the stable. Still, she had been able to travel a fairly long way on foot, but it was evident that she could not continue like this much longer.

"I can't pay you in coin," she told him. "But I can make sure you survive your battle."

Geralt felt sorry for the young woman and was going to help her without asking for anything in return. He really doubted that she had anything valuable to offer him. He was a Witcher, an assassin highly trained in both combat and the arts of magic, tools he used to keep himself alive in the high-risk situations he lived in on a regular basis. However, his mercy proved useful after the battle, when the young princess demonstrated her healing abilities.

His wounds were deep, he was tired and his skin was painted with the reddish sticky liquid that ran through the beast's veins. But still, he was able to crawl to safety where she waited for him with his horse Roach. When she saw him approaching on the horizon she jumped to her feet, hands full of herbs she had gathered in preparation for that moment. Geralt could see nothing but a halo of light in the distance, a figure of hope running towards him with hair flying in the wind as it called his name.

He collapsed against a tree trunk, his breath hitching as the world around him became blurry and dark. He was not unconscious, but neither was he able to process what was happening around him. His memories of that moment were blurry, like a dream slipping from his mind upon awakening. The only thing he remembered clearly was a sweet female voice calling him back to life as soft hands caressed his skin, spreading their comforting warmth inside him.

Geralt had felt peace for the first time in a long while as her hands worked their magic on him, just as he felt at this very moment as her fingers caressed his skin once again. It always happened, her touch alone flooded his insides with peace and tranquility. Maybe that was why he missed her so much, maybe that was why he found himself visiting her for the simplest injuries that even he could heal. Unlike other healers, she was the only one who could calm his tormented soul, the only one who could quiet his thoughts and remove all traces of bitter negativity from his heart. 

"Rest." He heard her whisper in his ear and as much as he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and look at her one more time. Geralt knew he was tired, but only now, in the quiet of her company and wrapped in the warmth of her body, did he realize just how much. 

When he opened his eyes again it was morning. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window touched his face in a warm caress. His pupils were forced to adjust to the light as he opened his eyes, narrowing to almost two slits identical to those of the black cat resting beside him. The animal meowed contentedly as he shifted between the sheets —letting out a grunt of pain at the heaviness of his muscles. He stroked the cat as it purred at him, scratching its head and behind its ears as he knew it liked, before making an effort to get out of bed. His body ached and he still felt tired, but given what he had been through, he was lucky to be alive. 

Geralt heard the sweet sound of the young woman's voice echoing down the hallway like a melodious murmur that filled his heart with joy. It came from the garden, so that was where he went. He found her having a conversation with Roach, brushing the horse's mane while complaining about him to the animal as if it could talk back. They were harmless comments that he knew she didn't mean, though he'd heard them in the past —complaints about his recklessness and lack of responsibility as a horse owner were never lacking. She was especially fond of animals, so she loved to talk to his horse as if he were a human being. She did it with her cat as well, and with any animal that crossed her path. Geralt found it entertaining, though a bit excessive —especially when they traveled together and she made him stop every so often to pet and chat with every rabbit and squirrel in their path.

"What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!" She scolded him as soon as her eyes landed on him. As firm as her gaze was, he could see concern rather than anger or annoyance reflected in them.

"I would have stayed in bed if I hadn't felt the need to come out and defend my good name." He played along, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward in an almost imperceptible movement. "I can't have you filling Roach's head with lies about me."

"They are not lies!" She grumbled, folding her arms in exaggerated annoyance. "You are reckless and you don't give poor Roach enough attention." At her words, the animal thumped its front left paw against the ground as if it understood what she had said and agreed. Geralt huffed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"You already turned her against me." She laughed and it was like music to his ears, a melodious tone that awakened happiness within him. 

"I don't have to, she is a smart creature." She fired back, giving the horse a couple of gentle pets before setting aside what she was doing to focus her attention on him. "But seriously, you need to get back in bed."

"I'm fine." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She looked at him steadily and Geralt knew she thought she looked intimidating, but with the way the light of the rising sun framed her figure and the gentle breeze moving her hair, he saw nothing more than a forest fairy. The most beautiful and innocent fairy he had ever seen. He was tempted to challenge her just to tease her and make her grumble. She looked adorable when she pointed an accusatory finger at him believing that something she did or said could intimidate the Witcher. In the end he decided not to do so and instead accompanied her back into the house, though he did not lie down again, but sat with her at the kitchen table. 

She insisted on preparing breakfast on her own, arguing that he was her guest and that he was badly injured, so Geralt had the opportunity to admire her as she moved about the room, humming under her breath melodies he did not recognize. It made him genuinely happy to see her acting so freely around him, thinking about how far their relationship had come. When he had first met her, she was far from the confident, free spirit she was now. She was quiet and reserved, barely asking him questions from time to time to fill the void of silence and always apologizing for everything.

It was more than mere distrust of a stranger, Geralt could see in her eyes that she was trapped inside herself, a cocoon of fears and insecurities that trapped in its intricate net the beautiful butterfly that lurked within. She would show her true colors from time to time, like when he would catch her talking to Roach when she thought he was sleeping, or when she would make them stop to help a wounded animal. But she always apologized immediately afterwards, as if she realized too late that she had done something wrong, something she wasn't supposed to do. It made Geralt wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she ran away from home. 

He was not a man of many words and was used to traveling alone and in silence, accompanied only by the chirping of birds and the crunching of dry leaves under Roach's hooves, but when it came to her he felt a strange need to hear her speak. Perhaps it was the harmonious tone of her voice, or maybe the fact that he could tell she needed to express herself, but he didn't mind when she rambled absentmindedly as they traveled, putting into words every thought that crossed her mind. 

"I was never meant to be a princess, no matter what my blood says." She had confessed to him one afternoon as they walked through the forest. "The traditions, the politics, the expectations... I was never good at any of that."

"Is that why you ran away?" His question took her by surprise. He barely spoke to her so she assumed he wasn't listening to her most of the time. When she turned to look at him she found his yellow eyes fixed on her, making her feel small under his intense gaze.

"I wanted to be free." She answered honestly. "I refused to live trapped inside a castle for another day, pretending to be someone I'm not, pleasing everybody but myself... I want to forge my own path, build my own destiny. I have no idea what I'm doing or if it will even work, but I owe it to myself to try."

Geralt admired her for that. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew what she didn't want and had had the courage to do something about it. That was why he was so glad things were going well for her. She deserved her freedom, she deserved to have the space to find herself and live her life on her terms. Her bravery had been rewarded.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him as she set a plate of food in front of him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. 

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Or are you doing that thing you do all the time when you pretend not to need anyone's help?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, proud of herself for knowing him so well. 

Geralt sighed. "I'm a bit sore and tired, but I'll live." He finally confessed.

"That's normal, you were really hurt. I'm amazed that you got here in one piece." 

"You should have seen the other guy." He joked sarcastically and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Geralt. The poison could have killed you."

"It didn't."

"Only because of your slow heartbeat, but what if next time you don't get so lucky?" The tone of the conversation suddenly changed as they looked into each other's eyes. The familiar heavy tension in the air, making it hard to breathe. 

It was her greatest fear. She feared there would come a day when Geralt's wounds would be so bad that even she wouldn't be able to heal them. She feared it almost as much as never opening the door again and finding him on the other side. The thought of him dying, at home or out on the battlefield, terrified her. She knew it was stupid since he was a Witcher, a being genetically modified to face the greatest dangers, whose purpose in life was to kill monsters. She knew the smart thing to do would have been to get away from him in time, before his absence hurt her as much as it did. She knew there was no point in worrying about someone who had made peace with the idea of dying in battle, but she did it anyway. She couldn't help but fear for his safety the moment he set foot outside her home, worrying until he would eventually show up there again.

"Just... be careful." She muttered after a few seconds of silence, swallowing her emotions as a lump formed in her throat.

Geralt could see the pain in her eyes, the fear and worry shining in them clearly. He felt the need to assure her that he would be all right, but they both knew that was a lie. In his line of work one could never be sure of anything. Things could change very quickly and even he could be surprised with the cold caress of death sooner than expected. The best he could do was to assure her that he would do everything in his power to get back to her.

"I will be." 

That wasn't enough to dissipate the young woman's fears, but it was enough to calm her worries for the moment. Instead of concentrating on things she couldn't control, she chose to turn her attention to the things she could. After breakfast she inspected Geralt's wounds once more to make sure they were healing properly. With the help of her magic and the speed with which the Witcher's body regenerated, the deep gash that adorned his chest was now no more than a scratch. The skin was still red and irritated, but it was in better condition than just a few hours ago. The same with the rest of the cuts and scratches that graced the rest of his body, some of which had already disappeared completely, leaving behind a slightly discolored line on the skin.

She sat beside him as she worked, rubbing a healing paste of her own creation over what was left of his wounds. She focused her energy on him, eyes glued to the skin of his chest as she let her fingers work their magic. She knew it probably wasn't necessary, given the rapid evolution of his cuts they would most likely be practically healed in a couple more hours. But she wanted to do it. She didn't like to see him hurt, even if it was something that happened regularly. He always came to her bruised and bloody, but even then she never got used to seeing him like that. She hated to see him suffer, so when he was with her she would go out of her way to heal all the wounds on his body no matter how small or insignificant. She wanted to make her home a sanctuary for him, a place free of pain and danger where they were safe to be together.

Geralt could feel her energy enveloping him, the warmth her body radiated caressing his skin delicately. The scent of her hair flooded his nostrils, filling his lungs with that sweet floral perfume that was so distinctive to him. It was intoxicating, a drug he couldn't quit. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, enjoying the soft touch of her hands on his chest and shoulders as he admired her work. She was beautiful, like a flower full of color and life that only grew stronger with each of his visits. Her smile, a ray of sunshine that lit up the gray, cloudy sky that was his life. And her eyes... oh her eyes. Geralt could get lost in them for hours, reading in her reflection every little thought that went through her head. To him she was an open book, the most fascinating he had read in a long time.

She became slightly nervous when she looked up and met Geralt's intense gaze fixed on her. They were close, too close to each other for her not to feel intimidated under the watchful admiration of his amber orbs. And yet, she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't help but marvel at the sharp angles of his features, counting the small scars that adorned his skin as her eyes traveled down his face. Those were two traits that people normally found intimidating about him. He had the face of a reckless warrior, a lone wolf with no feelings that augured trouble. But she knew him better than that, she knew the man behind the rumors and knew there was much more to his story and his character. When she looked at him she saw more than the dangerous Witcher. She saw the man who had saved her from her terrible fate, the one she missed and longed for when he was far away, the only man who occupied her thoughts. 

Geralt's eyes strayed to her lips as she caressed them with her tongue. It was an innocent act but he felt it as a temptation, a challenge he had every intention of accepting. He leaned forward, feeling her warm, slightly quickened breath colliding and mingling with his own. He held still for a moment, waiting for her to pull back and move away. When she didn't, Geralt moved a little closer to her until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his. When he looked up one last time, he noticed that she was looking at him with half lidded eyes, completely at his mercy. She was in a trance, lost in the deep amber of his eyes, with no thought in her mind but him. It was the moment they had both been waiting for, the culmination of all the tension that had built up.

But before they could join their lips in the long-awaited kiss, the sound of the cat jumping on top of the table interrupted them. The animal's meow broke the trance and she realized what was about to happen. Embarrassed, she pulled away from Geralt immediately, mumbling something about feeding the cat as she disappeared from his vision. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, still longing to feel her lips on his, but perhaps it was for the best. If he kissed her he would never want to stop or leave again, and he knew that wasn't possible. His place was out there on the road with his horse as his only companion. He was not meant to stay in one place for long, his profession had taken that privilege away from him long ago.

“Your wounds are almost healed.” She stated as she returned to the room, picking up the cat and setting it down off the table. It was an excuse so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye when talking, something to occupy herself so she wouldn't think about what had just happened.

"Guess I'll be leaving tonight then." He was in no hurry to leave, he would gladly stay another week there with her if he could, but he knew that wasn't wise. He could never stay too long with her since he always feared the effects it might have. The more time he spent with her, sharing moments of domestic intimacy, the harder it was for him to get back on the road. The last time he had been there he had ended up running away in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't leave if he had to look her in the eye and say goodbye. And now he feared that nothing had changed, so he had to get out of there before it was too late.

"I would rather you stay one more night and rest here." She said in a soft tone, trying to hide the true meaning behind her words. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. "Your physical wounds might be healing fast but don't forget that you were poisoned and you almost died. Witcher or not, that's a lot." 

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but would it kill you to stay here one more night for my own sake? Because if you walk through that door now, I will spend the rest of my days worrying about you until I see you again." She finally worked up the courage to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to listen to her. She knew that if he wanted to leave there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she hoped he would have mercy on her. "I just want to make sure that you're alright."

Geralt couldn't refuse her even if he wanted to, not when she was looking at him with big, bright eyes full of love. Not when her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was afraid he would hear her. He understood the feeling, the fear of admitting what he really felt. But it was easier that way. It was the best thing for both of them. Their lives were incompatible as were their personalities. 

She was a nice sunny summer afternoon and he was a harsh winter night. She was a ray of sunshine that with her warm touch awakened life in everything around her and he was the cold, cruel snow that buried everything under a layer of ice. Maybe that was why he felt this inexplicable attraction to her, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that pulled him to her every time he tried to walk away. Her warmth melted the ice around him, allowing new things to blossom in the fertile soil. Only he didn't know if there was anything left under the ice that could bloom. If so, he had to be careful because her warmth, though pleasant and comforting, could lead to his doom.

Still, he ignored his brain's warnings, giving in to her pleas. They spent the day together and Geralt allowed himself to lose himself in the intimacy and domestic bliss of the moment. He indulged in the fantasy of a life by her side as he admired her dancing around the kitchen while cooking or moving among the plants as she tended to her garden, talking to the squirrels and birds that wandered by. He delighted in the sound of her voice as she called his name and enjoyed her melodious laughter. 

When the sun went down, she lay beside him on the bed, talking nonsense until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She denied being sleepy several times, assuring him that she was just resting her eyes. Geralt snorted, but said nothing, listening intently to the story she was telling him about a deer she had saved from death between masked yawns. She didn't get to finish the story, not consciously at least. She mumbled a couple of almost inaudible gibberish before falling asleep, fighting her last battle against her body's need for rest.

Geralt watched her sleep for a good while, his eyes admiring the peace on her face in the dim candlelight. She had never looked so ethereal, with her hair spread out on the pillow like a halo around her head, and her chest rising and falling slowly with her calm breathing. Her skin was soft under his touch, a stark contrast to the roughness of his fingers bruised from all the fighting and constant use of the sword. She was the most beautiful piece of art, a sculpture carved by the gods themselves. He almost felt unworthy to be by her side, the softness of her features reminding him once again how different they were, how wrong his feelings were. 

He got out of bed with a heavy heart, searching for his things while being very careful not to make a sound so as not to alert her. He couldn't stay there one more night, if he woke up in the morning with her by his side he would never want to leave and he knew very well that it wouldn't end well. So, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her skin as a farewell.

Geralt disappeared into the darkness of the night without leaving any trace of his presence. When she opened her eyes the next morning she was disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She didn't have to leave the room to know he was gone, she could feel his absence in the air. She felt lonely and cold again, already missing the warmth that filled her whenever he was around. Letting out a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair near the door. Her eyes were glued to the wood, her mind filled with thoughts of Geralt. She wondered if he was alright and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. 

And just like that, the cycle continued, his departure leading the way to the stage of uncertainty and worry that grew in her with each passing day as she awaited his return. Her eyes remained glued to the door at all times, her ears attentive to the sounds waiting to hear Roach's footsteps approaching in the distance. She hated this moment. She hated not hearing from Geralt. She hated not being able to hear his low, raspy voice or feel the warmth of his body against hers. She hated the amount of energy she wasted worrying about him. But most of all, she hated knowing that all her suffering would be worth it the moment he came knocking on her door again.

I have more ideas for these two so if you guys like it let me know!

PART 2 HERE

[mentalpolaroids]

Wolf's Home

(Part I)

Geralt of Rivia x female!Reader

Summary: Geralt takes Ciri to Kaer Morhen and reunites not only with his family of witchers, but also with the person that makes him feel at home the most

a/n: this is sort of rewrite of S02E02. Sorry for the use of (y/n) but couldn't really think of a name for the reader. Also, this is my first try at writing for The Witcher so be nice to me please!!

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She woke up that morning expecting to face another routine-repeating day, possibly with an occasional healing of one of the witchers coming back to Kaer Morhen from a hunt, or coming up with a new excuse as to why she didn’t want to eat whatever crap Lambert cooked for them. His turn on food duty was always a dreadful one.

Her days were never too adventurous, not since Vasemir had insisted on a more permanent stay at the keep two years ago, when she was dragged through the Blue Mountains by a silver haired witcher, both injured, after fighting and killing a monster together. An encounter she still couldn’t really understand to this day, how they happened to be in the same place, at the same time, looking for the same creature, but she knew better than to question Destiny. 

Even with her own wounds to take care of, she still healed Geralt of Rivia first, who fell under her natural charm like a trap. He wondered if it was a spell, the way he so easily was put at ease in her presence. She was a mage after all. But as the days passed, he concluded that there was no spell besides the one used to close the gash on his abdomen. That woman was simply a caretaker by heart, one that somehow remained open and pure even knowing of the existence of nasty beings out there in the Continent. Everyone else in the Fortress seemed to be as mesmerized, and so, she was welcomed with open arms to stay, and heal, and fight with the witchers. 

The ropes were starting to burn the palm of her hands from all the knots she had conquered in the last hour, but she definitely didn’t mind because it was at least keeping her hands warm as she stood outside, light snow falling over the already white ground. 

One of the few advantages of the icy weather was that they could hear when someone was approaching, the crunch of the footsteps over the snow being hard to disguise. She heard those in the distance, but it was of a horse. (y/n) dropped the rope and grabbed her sword, preparing herself for the sight of the intruder before making her own known. But, the sight wasn’t at all what she expected. She didn’t know what to expect at all, but it sure wasn’t a familiar brown horse carrying Geralt of Rivia accompanied by a blonde girl, who (y/n) quickly convinced herself must’ve been a princess, if not for her looks, for her posture. She looked like she didn’t belong there, nor next to someone with the nickname The Butcher of Blaviken. 

The girl got down from Roach and looked around curiously. Her dress blended with the snow, from afar, (y/n) wondered if she was even real. Her gaze didn’t last long on the girl when Geralt got down from his horse too, the mere sight of his face barely visible under his dark cloak sent a shiver of excitement to her stomach. He had always had that effect on her, but it seemed the longer she went without seeing him, the stronger the sensation got after meeting again. 

The witcher and the princess shared words (y/n) couldn’t really hear from where she was still in the hiding, and as they started to walk towards the main entrance of the Fortress, the mage put down her sword and walked towards them. 

“You sure we’re safe here?” the princess asked Geralt, who walked in front of her. (y/n) was not close enough to hear the question, not yet to be noticed. 

“Safer than out there.” 

Her voice seemed to echo in the silence of their footsteps coming to a stop, both turning their heads to their right, finally acknowledging her. Geralt’s lips curved into a brief smile, his yellow eyes softening when they locked with hers. (y/n) smiled back, the shiver in her stomach was now climbing to her chest and for a moment she forgot he could probably feel her heart beating faster. Good thing she didn’t mind him knowing how she felt around him. 

Three steps away from coming face to face with the witcher, she slowed her pace, planning to walk past them. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dearest friend in all the Continent.”

“It’s great to see you.” 

“Oh I’m afraid I was speaking to my best girl here.” (y/n) approached Roach, caressing the horse over her nose and planting a light kiss on her short fur, “But it’s great to see you too, Wolf.” she walked towards him again, for a second forgetting it wasn’t just the two of them there. The way Geralt followed every step of hers, his gaze warm even in the middle of a Winter day. (y/n) opened her arms to him, “Welcome home.”

The man embraced her tightly against him and it felt like getting drowned in memories of his days with her. He had forgotten how much he cherished her affection, and holding her reminded him how nice it was to let his guard down for a brief moment. It all felt like he had never left. 

“I missed you.” he murmured, unrecognizably self-conscious. He surely didn’t enjoy showing this vulnerable side of him, especially in front of someone else.

“I’m sure you did.” (y/n) let go of him, casting him a warm, welcoming smile, before looking to the girl standing behind him, now more curious about the pair’s dynamic than the Fortress, “And who’s this poor thing having to deal with your company?” 

“This is Ciri.” 

“Ciri.” (y/n) tried the name on her lips. She walked towards her with the same welcoming smile, but a different fondness in her eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Ciri.” she said as she extended her hand to the girl, “I’m (y/n).”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” she spoke softly, clearly wary of meeting a new face, but the shadow of a smiling curve on her lips showed potential trust as she accepted the handshake. After all, the woman was obviously someone dear to Geralt, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Is that so?” (y/n) smirked, hoping the cold outside cooled the warmth spreading across her face. She turned to Geralt, who watched the two girls interact, but the words were directed to Ciri, “I’m sure I have a lot to hear about you, too.” It was a warning to the witcher: an endless night of chatting was to come, questions needed to be answered, stories to be told and his whereabouts to be known. 

As if reading Ciri’s mind, (y/n) squeezed her shoulder and tilted her head towards the entrance, “Don’t worry, you are safe here.” 

“Keep up.” Geralt told the girl, and both followed (y/n). 

They both pushed the heavy wooden doors and walked into the main room of the Fortress that was occupied with chatty men and the smell of burning wood and ale. (y/n)’s words echoing through the wide space caught their attention. 

“Look what the snow dragged in, boys.”

All eyes turned to the mage and the murmur came to a stop when everybody noticed the figure standing behind her. Her attention turned to Geralt as well, in time to see him remove the hood of his cloak and finally getting a decent view of the face she missed so much. She also checked on Ciri, who looked uneasier than before, standing in the middle of a room full of men. (y/n) winked at her, hoping to reassure her everything was alright. Geralt noticed, and he too turned to the girl and nodded at her before moving to stand beside (y/n) as Lambert stood from his seat and walked towards them. 

“Where the fuck have you been?” 

“We thought you got lost.” Coën followed Lambert, “Or killed.” 

(y/n) rolled her eyes. Geralt smiled tenderly.

“Not yet. Sorry.”  

The mage elbowed his side. She had always hated when he implied the possibility of his death at any moment, considering what he was and he did, in reality it wasn’t a massive impossibility. Still, even a simple joke triggered a non-existent grief that resided in her chest everytime she had to see the witcher leave and go long periods of time without hearing a single word from or about him. In his presence, (y/n) pretended he would stay forever, and if he didn’t stay, he would come back. Everytime. 

Geralt caressed her back and brought her in for the embrace Lambert had already initiated. He then went on greeting and hugging the other witchers and, more than ever, Kaer Morhen felt like a real home. The family was back together. 

“I guess I’m back to being second favorite now that you’re back.” Lambert complained to Geralt, referring to (y/n).

“Who said you were even a favorite in the first place?” 

Geralt laughed. 

“I hope you’ve all been treating her right.”

“We do, but she’s a mean one. Lucky for her, we don’t dislike her cooking.” 

The banter was interrupted by Vasemir, who entered the room already smiling at the sight of the silver haired witcher. 

“Wolf. You’re home.” the elder joined the commotion, “Finally.”

Ciri, still feeling out of place, placed herself visibly between Geralt and (y/n).

“Yeah. I had to make a few stops.” the witcher replied, referring to the princess next to him. 

“He’s home!” 

Once again, the commotion grew around Geralt as they kept celebrating his return. Ciri smiled shyly watching the content interactions.

“Come on,” (y/n) extended her hand for the princess to take, “I’m going to introduce you to everybody.”

When everybody settled enough for the mage to be able to order everyone to be nice to Ciri, the men were somewhat curious about the unexpected guest. The girl seemed less vigilant as she was offered a seat and cup and conversation started flowing as if both her and Geralt had always been there. 

(y/n) stood next to him, a sigh leaving her nostrils as she crossed her arms and discreetly nudged the man’s broad figure. 

“Yeah, I know. I have a lot to tell.”

“Yeah. You do.” 

Geralt looked down at her to meet her eyes and, with a soft motion of his hand, uncrossed her arms. He smiled, in a way she knew he was promising to stay for a while. She couldn’t tell what he thought her eyes were saying, but whatever it was, he felt the need to hold her hand, hidden behind his cloak, caressing the cold skin of her knuckles with his thumb. 

“I’m home.” his hoarse voice, along with the softness of his touch and stare, nearly warmed her up on the spot. 

In the back of her mind, there was a voice telling her he would eventually leave again, but for once, she shut it down. 

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Part II soon!

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Male!Witcher!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by Yuni on Ao3: (Translated from French on Google translate, original request below) Hi, I really like your work and was wondering if you can do a The Witcher style male Natasha x Reader covered in scars (one of which is across his face) and tattoos, a mass of muscles and the rest as a result 😳 😅, who returns from the fight and finds Natasha. To this follows a well-deserved part of legs in the air 😆😜. Thank you if you accept, good continuation. (My apologies for so many details)

AN: I've never watched The Witcher, so thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for educating me lol.

Original request: Bonjour, j'aime beaucoup votre travail et je me demandais si vous pouvez faire un Natasha x Reader masculin du style The Witcher couvert de cicatrices (dont une lui barre le visage) et de tatouages, une masse de muscles et le reste en conséquences 😳😅, qui revient du combat et retrouve Natasha. À cela suit une partie de jambes en l'air bien méritée 😆😜. Merci si vous acceptez, bonne continuation. (Mes excuses pour tant de détails)

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You shove your shoulder into your door one final time that almost knocks it off its hinges as you stumble into your room. You throw your sword onto the carpet and have the urge to fall with it until you see Natasha Romanoff waiting on your bed for you.

"Nat?" you ask, fighting against the exhaustion seeping into your bones. "What are you doing here?"

"Here to congratulate you after another successful battle," she says. "I already got your bath ready for you--"

"You didn't have to." While part of you is grateful for her help, you also like to maintain your independency and don't like to be waited on very much.

"Come on," she beckons, standing up and offering her hand. You have no energy left to argue and follow her into the bathroom, where true to her word, the enormous wooden basin is filled with steaming water.

You turn around to let Natasha help you remove off your several layers of armor and clothing. Some of it is splattered with your opponents blood, some of it yours, although you had hardly been injured in the fight. Natasha's hand lingers on your chest, tracing the shell of the wolf medallion hanging around your neck. Her hand travels down your ribs, where you have a thin slash from a sword.

"Let me get you a bandage for that," she says, darting off while you stand there naked, taking a moment to admire your reflection in the mirror. The years of hunts had taken a visible toll on your body, with scars littering your torso and limbs. There is a ragged chunk of missing flesh on your left thigh and claw marks raking across your chest to your stomach. Your most prominent scar could not be easily hid with clothing because it was on your face, crossing your left eye from your forehead to your cheek. But despite the damage from an innumerable amount of fights, you were of good health and strongly built, with sculpted muscles that put most men to shame.

Natasha returns with a bandage and some ointment, but requests that you wash off the blood and dirt in the tub first. You are happy to oblige, slipping into the warm water and closing your eyes in bliss as the heat loosens your muscles.

Natasha conjures up a rag and a bar of soap, wetting both and rubbing them together until a white lather appears. You sit back and let her wash your face, arms, and chest, taking the washcloth from her to finish what's left under the water. She eyes you hungrily as you wash yourself, almost like she's jealous she doesn't get to do it herself.

"You'll get your turn," you promise as you drain the tub of the dirty water. Natasha fills a bucket to present you with clean water to rinse off with, and when you're done you stand up, dripping water onto the ground and Natasha not-so-subtly clenches her legs together.

You go back to the bedroom, allowing her to clean and bandage the cut on your side, and even after that she's still looking at you like she wants to devour you.

"Nat," you say, finally ready to give in to her.

"Hold on. Drink this." Out of nowhere, she conjures up a flask carrying a bright-red liquid and holds it out to you.

"Will this heal me?" you ask, hesitant from the potion's flashy color.

"Yes," Natasha says with a grin, "And it'll help you last longer."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she's referring to, but you eagerly down the potion, cringing at the harsh taste. It doesn't make you feel any different at first, but then a hot warmth spreads to your groin and you realize it's because Natasha's taken your cock in her hands and starts stroking you slowly.

You crawl back on the bed, spreading your legs to allow her to join you. She takes off her own multiple layers of clothing, climbing on top of you and rubbing her bare chest against yours. Her nipples are already hard and you grope her breasts roughly. She arches into you and moans, and you hike your hips up to rub your cock along her smooth thighs.

"Fuck, Y/N," she murmurs, her hands roaming your body as much as yours are on hers. Natasha loves the way your muscles shift and flex under her touch. She can practically feel the individual muscle fibers in your chest straining and popping and your thighs are rock-solid underneath hers.

Her nails dig into the curve of your biceps, trying to keep you pinned down, but of course her strength is no match for yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, flipping her over in one motion and kissing her fiercely. You feel her hands grab at your medallion, then going down your sides and gripping onto your muscular butt to guide your hips.

"Inside," she begs. "I need you."

"Not yet," you tease, rolling your hips slowly so the tip of your cock teases her entrance. But you don't think she's wet enough for you, and with your size, you don't want to hurt her by pushing in too early. Besides, it's fun to tease her.

"Please, please," she begs, widening her legs until you can see her glistening center.

You push two fingers into her and curl them against her front wall; she moans loudly and drops her head back into the pillows. Your cock hardens even more at the thought of her walls clenching around you like that. You roll your thumb over her clit a few times, pumping your fingers in and out, until her thighs are trembling and she's panting and gasping for your cock.

"Now you're ready," you announce, taking her thighs in your large hands and pressing them into the bed, holding them wide apart. You position yourself at your entrance and slide right in, moaning at the heat that clenches at you.

"Oh fuck, Nat," you grunt, overwhelmed by the urge to cum immediately, but you feel something in your stomach tighten, preventing you from release. Knowing this is the work of her potion but not sure how long it will last, you start thrusting in long, hard strokes, filling Natasha and pulling out until you see your tip wet with her juices.

"Yes, yes, just like that," Natasha moans, squirming on the bed as you hold her down and jack your hips into hers.

"You feel like perfection," you say, savoring the feeling of her silky walls dragging up and down your throbbing cock. You know when you finally get to cum, you're going to fill her to the brim.

"So do you," she says, trying to sit up and grab onto your broad shoulders to steady yourself with as the bedframe starts to shudder violently from your motions.

"When can I cum?" you ask, as if she holds that much control over you.

"After I do," she replies with a sly grin.

"Okay." You start to thrust even harder, your abs starting to burn from the effort. "Tell me when," you add, noticing her tensing up beneath you. You feel like you're ready to topple over the edge, but no matter how deeply you thrust into Natasha, you just can't reach the peak.

"I'm gonna cum!" Natasha squeaks, her nails digging into your muscles.

You don't stop thrusting even as she's gushing around you, the slickness aiding your strokes, and finally when her body stops convulsing, your cock pumps cum straight into her womb. The orgasm is so intense and sudden you think you pass out for a moment, finding yourself lying on top of Natasha in a sticky heap.

"Oh no, I am so sorry, Natasha--" you say, trying to push away from her but she locks her legs around your hips so you can't pull out.

"Stay," she says, enjoying the warmth of your body on top of her and the fullness of your cock inside her.

"As you wish," you say, in no mood to argue with her now and shifting to get comfortable.

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AN: This was fun to write! Thanks for the request!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[renren-006]

Heyo! How are you? I was wondering if I could put in a request for a Geralt x fem reader one shot?

Reader is injured in some sort of way but tries to hide it from Geralt coz she doesn’t want to worry him but he obviously finds out?

I’m bad at descriptions😪

Please and thank you xx

Wounds and Kisses | Geralt x fem Reader

a/n: hello! thank you for the request and i hope you like it!

fluff and angst

word count: 966

You tagged Geralt along on another one of his quests. You had before, and Jaskier seemed to think it was an excellent idea to have another person join them. So it was you and Geralt on Roach and Jaskier on his own horse, Fawn, playing tunes on his instruments. You were not a Witcher, but you did have basic abilities passed down from your mother, who was a half-elf and half-sorcerer, making you a mixed-blooded woman. Your abilities revolved around the elements, like your mother and her mother before her. You were trained by her before she died and before you had met Geralt.

He was adamant about letting you on quests; he wouldn't tell you why, but you knew the brooding man had some form of feeling towards you. The two of you never discussed it, but there was always something between them. You had slept together, kissed in halls, and spent the nights together, but no relationship was formed, and no words of love were ever spoken. You wished he would; you wished he would just tell you he loved you so you may finally not have to steal glances at the man without him knowing. 

The beast was something of a bigger size than either you or Geralt had previously thought it would be. Jaskier was back at the tavern drinking away and singing about adventures, while the two of you were stuck dealing with a beast that continuously terrorized this poor town. You didn't expect it to also be so difficult to defeat but its hard armor made things worse. It also made things worse when the beast tail slammed into you sending you flying to the ground. Geralt was too busy with a second beast that charged that he had no idea you had been flung by the beast. You stumbled back over to the fight, trying not to clutch your side. Your powers roared in you as you launched yourself on top of the beast, shoving your sword in any place between the armor before finding its weak spot. You shoved your sword deep into the spot by its neck in between the brakes in its armor, it wailed loudly before it fell. You stumbled off the beast intime to see Geralt doing the same with the second beast. Once you stumbled out of the muddy water onto land your side erupted in pain, you bit back a cry as you got onto Jeskier horse, Fawn, and rode back alongside Geralt who was far ahead of you and determined to finish the job fully and get home. You didn't dare touch your side or grimace about it, not wanting the boys to know you got hurt. 

You sat by Jaskier who held his nose by the stink of the beast coming off you. 

“Damn Y/N you stink” he said “Oh and Geralt smells worse…both of you go take a bath!”

“Were fine Jaskier” Geralt said, not wanting to jump to the bath and instead started drinking whatever it was he bought.

“Ill go” you said. As you stood a flash of pain crossed your face, making Geralt straighten. You stumbled your way to the room finding that someone had already filled the bin with hot bath water. As you undressed you didn't hear the door open or the heavy footsteps of Geralt entering. 

“Y/N” he said, standing still at the sight of the entirely too large gash and hole in your side. The beast tail had been spiked and its tail punctured your side while also slashing the entire length of your stomach. The blood and ooze that gushed from you seemed like it didn't matter under the eyesight of Geralt who stumbled over to you. “Why didn't you say anything?” he asked you. His voice was…soft. 

“I didn't want to worry you” you told him. You clutched the bin, your vision blurring as Geralt caught you, finished undressing you and got you into the hot water. You screamed a bit from the feeling of the hot water in your wound. Geralt held you, sliding in after undressing himself and holding you close to him.

“I want you to tell me when you're hurt. It means nothing against your skills when you are” he told you, making you feel worse about not mentioning it.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. 

“No apologies. Just heal” he told you, knowing that with concentration and his strength behind you, using the water and your magic can help heal the deep wound on you. The water swirled slightly as you used the magic in you to heal what you could. The deep gash slowly faded to a large gash, and the scratches along your stomach turned to scabs and then to scars. Your body had enough scars that you hated the sight of them but your magic only worked so far.

“I'm sure Yennefer would be happy to show you how to heal scars” He told you, pulling you even closer to him. “I know we never talked about what is between us…”

“I love you” you spoke faster than he could finish his thought. 

“I love you too y/n…if you had let me finish” he said, causing you to laugh. 

“Sorry, just wanted to say it before I couldn't” you told him looking at his face. 

“I should have told you sooner. I took advantage of your feelings before mine came around..”

“I know, but i never told you to stop” you said, “I just wanted all your love not just parts”

“Now you have it all” he told you, “so no more hiding your wounds” 

“Promise,” you said, kissing his cheek before falling back and laying on him.

[bookished]

MOONLIT NIGHTS: THE CABIN CHRONICLES

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-> Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x f!reader witch

-> Summary: Geralt of Rivia faces the impossible: he is defeated by a monster and, in the middle of trying to escape after being severally wounded, finds a cabin, where a witch who knows what he needs, cures him.

-> Rating: +18

-> Word count: 2.2k

-> Warnings: smut, kinks including breeding, rough sex, neck biting until blood comes out, degradation, domination, a little bit of praise kink, dirty talking

-> Notes: i've been rewatching the witcher and reading lots of fanfics, i got so in the mood of writing a piece and i hope you enjoy it! <3

Geralt of Rivia rode through the dense, ancient Caed Dhu forest, his silver hair glistening in the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves. He had been on the path for days, following rumors of a dangerous creature that plagued the nearby village.

As he ventured deeper into the woods, he couldn't shake the feeling that this particular hunt would be different.

In the heart of the treacherous Caed Dhu, Geralt of Rivia, the renowned Witcher, found himself in a dire predicament. A contract had led him deep into the ancient woods, where he faced a foe more formidable than any he had encountered before. The beast, a grotesque hybrid of wolf and wyrm, had proven to be a match for Geralt's skill and swordsmanship.

As the moon hung low in the night sky, Geralt's silver sword clanged against the creature's impenetrable scales. The battle had raged for hours, and his strength waned with every strike. Blood oozed from numerous wounds, staining his armor and leather boots. His trademark white hair clung to his sweat-soaked forehead, and his golden eyes burned with determination.

But in a moment of miscalculation, the beast lunged forward, its jaws snapping shut around Geralt's forearm. Pain seared through his body as his bones cracked, and he let out a roar of agony. With a swift, desperate maneuver, he wrenched his arm free, leaving shreds of flesh in the creature's maw.

Battered and bloodied, Geralt knew he was outmatched. With a heavy heart and aching limbs, he made a fateful decision. He turned and sprinted through the darkened forest, leaving behind the monster he could not defeat. His every step sent waves of agony through his injured arm, but he pushed himself to the limit.

As he escaped, he couldn't help but reflect on his countless battles, his victories, and his unshakable resolve. Yet, this time, survival took precedence over valor. The Caed Dhu closed in around him, a labyrinth of twisted trees and shadowy threats. Geralt, the fearless Witcher, ran for his life, vowing to return to face the beast another day, once he had healed and prepared for the inevitable rematch.

Deep within the heart of the dense and mysterious Caed Dhu, Geralt of Rivia stumbled upon an unexpected sanctuary. The cabin's solitude was a haven for a Witcher in need, a sanctuary where he could mend his battered body and prepare for the inevitable return to the treacherous wilderness.

The cabin stood as a solitary sentinel in the depths of the forest, its timeworn facade hidden beneath a canopy of thick foliage. With aching limbs and a resolve unyielding as steel, Geralt pushed open the creaking door and stepped into the dimly lit interior.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of herbs and alchemical concoctions. The flickering candlelight revealed a modest yet well-equipped witch's lair. Shelves lined with vials of potions and bundles of dried herbs stretched to the ceiling. A cauldron simmered with a mysterious brew, its aroma tinged with both magic and healing properties.

He needed rest and healing. Inside the cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. The scent of herbs and potions filled the air, a telltale sign of a fellow witch's presence. He knew he wasn't alone.

From the shadows, your hooded figure emerged, revealing the gentle features of a young witch. You had been tracking his progress and had prepared the cabin for his arrival.

He got a closer look of you, which allowed him to see the medallion of the Viper, which matched your dark green eyes, that were glistening under the candle's light. You were, definitely, one of the few Witches left after the Trials that erased most of them from the surface of Earth.

Without a word, you approached Geralt and began to help him remove his clothes, your touch gentle yet firm. As the clothing fell away, his battle-worn body was exposed, covered in cuts and bruises. He hissed in pain as you examined his wounds.

"I'll take care of you, Geralt," you murmured softly, your voice soothing. You mixed herbs and applied salves, tending to each injury with practiced care. Your fingers moved with a grace born of years of training.

Geralt watched you work, silently grateful for your presence. The pain began to ebb away as your healing magic flowed through him, knitting his flesh together.

Once the wounds were tended to, you stepped back, your eyes meeting his yellowish ones with a warmth that belied the harsh world they inhabited.

"Rest now," you said, guiding him to a nearby bed. "You've earned it."

As he lay down, his body slowly relaxing, Geralt couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the kindred spirit who had tended to his wounds. In a world filled with darkness and danger, he had found a glimmer of light and solace in your healing touch.

Also, your touch brought up a slow burning fire within him, making him feeling the need in his body to bring you closer, to lick you, to taste you. He needed to show gratefulness by giving pleasure to you after healing him with such care and knowledge... as if you knew exactly how his body reacted to each one of the remedies you were using. That made the White Wolf groan in approval.

He couldn't help but grab your wrist before you stepped back, not applying so much pressure to hurt you, but enough strength to keep you where you stood. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, making you stare back at his intense stare.

He started slowly and gently rubbing your inner wrist, where your pulse was accelerated, with his thumb calming it, you, without words, and no further movements needed.

"You're safe, Geralt. You made it home. Let me go, and you rest." You whispered, not wanting to break the calm and enchanted ambience. You don't know how you managed to sound firm, calm, steady and confident, but your tone left no doubts.

He kept staring at you, his jaw tense while the candles in the cabin lightened his skin, and you couldn't help but break eye contact and admire his body. His injured body. But, also, his fit figure.

Suddenly, Geralt pulled you into him without effort, and a groan escaped from him, low and deep. Something that made your body really happy, but you knew you couldn't risk hurting him more than he already was. You needed him fully recovered.

"If you want to keep that hand and arm, I'd suggest you let go." You had no choice but to warn him.

"I can smell you, Witch." He simply replied, his voice low and raspy, while not letting you go. You swallowed the lump in your throat, as you smelled his arousal, too. There was no possible denial in what was going around between you two, in that cabin, as the darkness of the night and the moonlit mixed with the candles surrounding you both.

With his other hand, he grabbed the Viper medallion hanging from your neck, pulling your face closer to his while keeping his firm stare at you. You could even notice the smallest of the dilation of his pupils in that position.

"After taking care of me, let me take care of your needs, witch." Geralt whispered. You knew fighting him was useless, and you couldn't deny the way your body was craving him, either. He tilted his body, not giving a flying fuck about his fresh wounds.

You stared down at his lips, and back to his eyes. He grinned a little before grabbing your medallion and pulling you close until both of your lips were a wet mess against each other, not even letting the air pass between you two.

You moaned against his lips, your groans and whines making him feel rougher and animalistic each passing second. His hands were everywhere on your body, not allowing even one millimeter of skin escape from his touch.

No previous warning, he ripped your dress from behind and continued tearing off your undergarments. You were speechless as you could only feel him. You tried touching him, but he didn’t allow that. He had you naked in front of him in a matter of seconds.

Furthermore, you looked into his eyes, waiting for his next move. "Geralt-" You were anxious for more of what he had to offer.

"You're exquisite, aren't you, witch?" He was appreciative of your exposed body in front of him, meanwhile using your condition as a pet name, which didn't annoy you at all.

He took your silence as an invitation to switch positions, grabbing you by a fistful by your long hair, having you bent over the same surface he was laying on not long ago.

Geralt directed his right hand to your pussy, moving his fingers between your folds while humming appreciatively at your wetness. The sounds filling the room, and the sights you had thanks to the little mirror that wasn't too far away on the wall in front of you, were too much to handle. It didn't take long for your thighs to begin to shake, and the White Wolf knew it too.

His hand, which was teasing you, was now wrapped around your small neck, pushing you down, taking out his digits, spreading you apart with his large girth, and slamming into your cunt.

As you wrapped your small hand around his, he tightened his hold on your neck, taking your gesture as an invitation to be rougher.

He tilted his body on top of your back, replacing the hold of his hand on your neck with his teeth burying in the delicate spot of your skin, as he kept slamming into your wetness, and you could feel his medallion swinging over you as his movement fastened, and his cock was buried deep, still pounding, into you.

"Ah, fuck, Geralt." You mumbled, not being able to keep your eyes out of the reflection in the mirror. The candles lightning his sweated skin, you underneath him as he dominated you on that unstable surface and his aura surrounding your senses.

Your hips began to move on his, as you needed that sweet relief. Geralt's bite on your neck became harder and you could feel and smell a bit of blood running down your skin, which heated up both of you even more, if possible.

His groans were louder against you, the slamming of his cock inside of you more frenetic and he dug his nails into the sides of your hips to keep you steady. He let go of your neck to press his mouth on your shoulder. "You're so fucking tight and behaving like a good girl," he moaned. "Keep milking me, witch, so I can breed you and fill you up with my cum until it oozes out."

The way he was talking to you, saying those things, had you closer to the edge. You needed to feel his cock pulsate inside of you, stretching you out and getting you full of him. Your moans were unstoppable as nonsense dripped out of your mouth.

"I wanna see those pretty thighs of yours covered with my cum." Geralt wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you in place as he circled your nipple with his thumb and index, pinching it.

“Yes, Geralt, yes." Your mind was blank, dazzled with lust and desire, almost making you forget your own name.

Your thighs began to shake, and he felt them, “Yes, witch, come all over my cock.” His encouraging, husky voice praised you. You called out the White Wolf's name, your orgasm hitting hard and uncontrollably, your head dizzy as you saw stars and lights in your vision.

You felt Geralt exploding inside of you, with a few more snaps of his hips against your ass you felt his girth tighten up, and a few more spurts of his cum filling you up as you rode off your orgasm.

"Fuck, you milked me so good, you emptied me, didn't you?" He moaned and grunted again as he felt your pussy tightening lightly on him. "What kind of witchcraft did you use on me, huh?"

He let go of your breast, not moving his position so you were still under his dominant figure while his cock rested inside of you, feeling your thighs sticky of his cum and other mix of fluids.

"Well, you loved the way I was curing you earlier and the attention I gave you, didn't you, Witcher?"

"I'm not one to turn down a healing session when I'm offered one." Geralt whispered in your ear, still not getting off you. "But what's the catch?"

You smiled, feeling chills down your spine. "The catch is, I get to pamper every inch of you and make sure you're completely healed."

"I think I can handle that kind of catch."

Did you enjoy it? Please, consider leaving a comment, reblogging, sending feedback in any way or buying me a coffee. If you would like to request something, go and message me. Also, if you'd like, you can check my masterlist or send me any prompts. Happy reading!

[redskull199987]

All the right Moves

Eskel x female Witcher!reader  Word count:2.4k warnings: canon typical violence, reader is injured, fluff at the end Summary:You´re on your way back to Kaer Morhen together with Eskel, as you run into a Leshy. You knew that something was wrong, as Eskel told you he wouldn't want to travel with you anymore…

Masterlist

You were hiking so fast, that you could feel your lungs burning inside your chest. Your throat dry from not drinking anything for hours. Your feet were begging you to stop, even just for a minute. But you knew, you couldn't. If you stopped now, he would be dead, once you reached Kaer Morhen. You just had to make it in time. If Eskel died, you would never forgive yourself. His words were still ringing in the back of your head.

“Leave me alone!”, he yelled, as he pushed you away from him. Confused, you looked at the Witcher, who was normally warm and understanding around you. All you had done was touch his shoulder carefully, asking if you could see his injury.“Eskel…are you okay?”, you mumbled, Confusion still written all over your face.

“Just fuck off.”, he cursed under his breath, turning away from him. 

You watched in confusion as he walked away from you, gathering his weapons. He didn't look back at you even once.

Your breath hitched slightly, as you could finally see the silhouette of Kaer Morhen on the Horizon. One or Two hours more and you would reach the old castle. It would be nightfall by then. You finally started to walk again, reaching into your pocket to find the potion, that was the reason why you were so late. You were sure that all the others had already arrived. Geralt and Vesemir probably worrying not only about Eskel, but also wondering why you didn't arrive yet. 

You desperately wished that you weren't so late. But it had taken you longer than expected, to find someone who knew how to make the potion you needed. If it weren't for a mage, who was a good friend of yours, who teleported you near the mountains, where Kaer Morhen was, you would´ve lost several days and Eskel would probably be dead already. But luckily, you were only half a day behind him, which luckily gave you enough time to save him. Or so you hoped. 

“Just fucking leave me alone!”, Eskel screamed at you, after you had finally managed to get a good look at his shoulder.“You´re infected, Eskel!”, you yelled, trying to grab his hand,”If we don´t do something, you will die!”“I am not going to die, so just leave me alone. I don't need you. I never needed you!”, he barked, looking at you with a stern expression. You were taken aback by his words. You knew that he didn't mean it, he didn't know what he was saying. But it still hurt you. 

 Before you could say something more, he was already mounting the horse and running off. You didn't try to follow him. It was worthless. You knew that he would be in Kaer Morhen after you found a potion that would save him. 

You looked at his back one more time, before making your way into the other direction, already knowing who you could ask for help.

A small sigh left your lips,as you finally reached the doors of the keep. You were about to push it open, as the medallion around your neck started shaking. Hastily, you made your way inside. This wasn't the first time this happened today. But this time it was much harsher. 

You didn't see anyone at first. The great hall was completely empty, but you could see plates full of food and tankards filled with ale standing all over the place. Someone was here not long ago. 

Your head shot up, as you heard ruckus coming from the laboratory, seconds later the sound of pots being smashed and tables thrown over. As you finally started running, you could hear a beasty groan. “Fuck.”, you grunted as you heard the voices of Geralt and Vesemir. And as you finally reached the designated room, you peeked through the open door. What you saw almost made you lose your composure.  

Right there, just a few meters in front of you, was Eskel towering over the other two Witchers. But he wasn't himself. Not in the slightest. He had transformed into a wooden beast, his face barely visible, but it was there. 

Mere seconds, after laying your eyes on him, you wanted to storm towards him, but a magical shield was blocking the door. You quickly drew your sword, as you saw what was about to happen. 

Eskel had managed to trap Vesemir, resulting in Geralt lighting up his sword to end it.

As fast as you could, you muttered a spell and lifted your sword. With all your power, you pierced it through the barrier.

You took three big steps, breathing in heavily, knowing that what you were about to do would knock the air out of your lungs. 

And only as you stepped in front of him, lifting your blade to meet his in the air, Geralt had finally noticed your presence. He looked at you perplexed, as your sword clanked against his, the metall hissing from the heat. “What are you doing?”, he asked, not even angry, but genuinely concerned. “You're not going to take him away from me!”, you claimed, as Geralt slowly lowered his sword.

“Please just trust me!”, you urged the white wolf. He only nodded at you, as you quickly turned around, grabbing the small potion from your pocket.

“Eskel?!?!”, you yelled as loud as you could. The beast-turned Man quickly turned around, upon hearing your voice. Vesemir, who had previously been choked, fell to the ground, coughing. “Take care of him!”, you ordered Geralt, who was able to quickly make his way over to the older Witcher, since Eskel´s attention was all on you now. 

“Here goes nothing.”, you muttered under your breath, as you felt a branch pierce through your shoulder. You yelped, as you were lifted into the air, more branches wrapping around your body. You were pushed against a wall, as Eskel leaned closer to you.

“Y/N”, he sputtered, his eyes scanning your form. 

“It's me, Eskel.”, you affirmed, slowly bringing the potion to your mouth to rip the cork off, “You´re going to be alright, my love. Don´t worry.”

Eskel was about to answer, but no words left his mouth, he was just staring at you. You quickly realized that this was your chance, as he was momentarily confused. You lifted your arm, as best as you could and threw the small bottle of potion right into his mouth. He choked on it for a second, not comprehending what had just happened. “I'm sorry in advance.”, you quickly mumbled, before lifting your foot and kicking him in the jaw, in order to make him swallow the potion. 

Your breath hitched for a second, as you didn´t know what was going to happen. Would it work? Would he live?

As you fell to the ground with a grunt, you were pretty sure that it was working. Grabbing your bleeding shoulder, you quickly backed off, as Eskel started to squirm around, an angry scream leaving his lips.

“Y/N?!”, Geralt yelled, as he tried to reach you, but Eskel´s branches were throwing a tantrum, swinging all around the hall.

“Please just work.”, you prayed, but suddenly, all movement stopped. The room was silent for a second, before all the wood surrounding you suddenly started  corroding. You watched with wide eyes, how all the branches coming out of Eskel slowly crumbled away all the way up to his body.  He had stopped moving for a second, but as you stood up and called out for him, the wooden exoskelett rumbled to life. You heard cracking and wood breaking and seconds later, you saw Eskel´s Human body falling out of what looked like a tree stump now.

"Eskel!", you gasped and leaped forward just in time to catch him. His body weight pulled you down with him. He was still unconscious, as you slowly turned him around, resting his head on your lap. Just now, you took a good look at him. His entire body was covered in dirt. Vines and leaves had grown in and around his clothes. The only thing untouched, was his Witcher medallion.

“He´s alive.”

You looked up at Geralt and Vesemir who were now standing in front of you. Vesemir was still leaning on Geralt for support, but apart from that he seemed fine to you.

“You saved his life”, Geralt added. All you could do was nod. Your emotions were slowly coming to the surface now and you realized that you could´ve lost him today. But here he was, laying in your arms unconsciously. 

"Come on.” , Vesemir  patted your shoulder, kneeling down next to you,”Let's get him fixed up. We´ll take care of this”, he lifted his hand to gesture around the completely destroyed room,”later, alright?”

You just nodded again, stepping aside, as Geralt and Vesemir proceeded to lift Eskel up to carry him to his room. As the other Witchers ran into you, you promised them an explanation , but for now, you needed to look after Eskel.

Your eyes kept falling shut over and over again, as you lay in a chair in front of Eskel´s bed. It had been a few hours since you managed to cure him from the infection. He hadn't woken up since. You tried to stay awake but sleep was gnawing at you, like a hungry aeschna.

“Sorry? Are you Y/N?”

Your eyes opened once more, as you looked over to the door to see who had come to visit you. A young girl was standing in the doorway. Her long blond hair was slightly disheveled and the bottom of her white dress was dirty and ripped open.

“You must be the child surprise.”, you stated, after getting up and bidding her inside.

“Cirilla of Cintra.”, she smiled, as she stepped inside,”Geralt sent me to give you this. He said it would help with your exhaustion.”

You looked at her curiously, as she handed you a small bottle of potion. You gingerly took it and inspected it´s contents. After recognizing the mixture, you quickly downed it in one sip. Mere seconds after, you already felt it working. Your eyes didn´t feel as heavy anymore and your limbs stopped aching a bit.

“Thank you Cirilla.”, you finally said and gifted the young girl a soft smile.  

She only nodded and was about to leave, as you gently grabbed her wrist. She turned around perplexed.

You cleared your throat once more, before finally speaking again:”Geralt told me that…that Eskel was a bit rude with you, upon arriving here at Kaer Morhen.”

“He wasn't exactly the nicest.”, she admitted after you finally let go of her hand.

“I want to apologize for his behavior”, you sighed, rubbing your neck,”He isn't usually like this. He didn't even let me touch him, after he was injured. This infection…it did something to him, changed him.”

Cirilla didn't say anything, but instead stepped closer to the bed, Eskel was lying in. She inspected him carefully, her eyes wandering over his exhausted body. 

“I really hope that he will wake up again. I would like to meet the real Eskel.”, she uttered and turned around to you with a smile. “Yeah, me too.”, you mumbled weakly. You were really missing your soft Witcher. The way he always smiled at you with his big eyes, the way his hands felt on your skin, his lips on yours, his gentle voice, as he mumbled sweet nothing into your ear in the early mornings. You just wanted him to wake up again.

“Hey?”, Ciri asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. She must have noticed how shaken up you were, “He'll be alright. You saved him, right?”

You only nodded, slowly petting her shoulder:”You should go to sleep now. It's late and you must be tired, after all this ruckus.”

“You should get some sleep too.”, she smiled softly before leaving the room. You threw one last glance her way, before the door finally closed and the room was silent again.

At least for a few moments.

Your head shot up, as you heard groaning coming from the bed. That could only mean one thing: Eskel was awake.

You quickly made your way over to the bed and you would be lying if you said, your heart didn't skip a beat. There he was. He was alive and well. His heartbeat going steady and his breath a little shallow, but also very much there. 

As he looked up and his eyes landed on you, you couldn't hold yourself back any longer. you stepped forward, kneeling down on the side of the bed, your arms pulling Eskel into a massive hug.

“Woah there, bug. It's alright, I'm here.”, Eskel affirmed, as you buried your face  in his shoulder,”I'm here with you.” 

“Yeah”, you sniffled, a few lonely tears rolling down your cheeks. You finally parted to get a good look at him. Frankly, he still looked unbelievably tired. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes and you noticed that he moved with a bit of discomfort. “What happened, bug?”, he suddenly asked you, now fully sitting up against the headrest.

“The leshy.”, you mumbled, reaching out for his hand. He gladly intertwined his fingers with yours. “It infected you, after we fought against it.”

“Fuck, I think I remember now.”, he hissed,”I'm so sorry. The things I said, I did. I was such an arsehole, wasn´t I?”

“Well, Ciri certainly thinks so.”, you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But Eskel didn't laugh. Instead he lifted his hand to softly grasp your cheek. He gently wiped away your tears, but new ones were already coming, upon feeling his soft touch again.

“I am sorry.”, he said firmly,”Thank you for saving my ass.” “Of course.”, you assured,”I would do anything for you. I love you.” “I love you, bug”, Eskel mumbled, pulling you back into his chest. A small sigh left your lips, after settling against his body. You finally allowed yourself to rest, after so many hours of being completely on edge. Eskel was alive. You did, in fact, save him. 

“Rest.”, you heard him whisper into your ear, as he pulled you closer to his body. His warmth spreading welcoming you, after he pulled the blanket over you.

“You deserve it.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

10 Second Elder

The Blonde Boys Club

Daemon Targaryen x Sorceress!Reader, Geralt of Rivia & Sister!Reader

Summary: Yeah, so your twin tried to kill Caraxes and now you have to convince his rider, the mother fucking Prince, that it was all a misunderstanding (it was not).

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: THE ONLY INCEST IN THIS IS THE CANON TARGARYEN INCEST ALRD IN HOTD OTHERWISE MISS ME WITH THAT BULLSHIT, fem!reader, witcher!twins, reader is kinda a witcher lol, I describe reader's hair and eye color, crack fic, typos, etc.

A/N: I JUST GOT A BUNCH OF IDEAS FOR THESE BLONDES AND OTHER FICTIONAL BLONDES PLEASE IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS ??? SERIES???? (dont quote me on that, idk what it is) ASKFL:AFHALS:F. AND SHHH whatever plothole you have for the witcher!twins, just, just, roll with it i beg also I'm tagging @lexi-anastasia HI!! i actually thought of this prompt cos of your display pic. IDK IF YOU EVEN LIKE hotd but i hope you like this for the witcher!twins LOL I'm also tagging @avaleineandafryingpan because they reblogged my the blonde boys club post T_T (mahal kita) and of course @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda P2 "Dry Humor"

Geralt had smelt it in the air before anything else. He had his bow in his hand, drawn and ready. His stance was low. The steps he took against the leaf covered ground barely made a sound.

He straightened himself up when he saw an opening and pulled his arrow all the way.

When a gust of wind blew, he inhaled deeply, now certain of his opponent. A dragon.

Geralt inhaled deeply as the beast shifted in the spot it was laying. He saw the saddle on it, scoffing. Suddenly things were clearer as to why a dragon would be out in the open, so exposed. It was also clear that whoever the rider was did not care about how their ride had ravaged the nearby farm and village.

He knew his arrow would barely injure the creature, if it could pierce its skin at all, and yet he shot at its curled neck anyway.

No avail. The thing didn't even flinch.

Geralt purses his lips as he redraws his weapon. The dragon shifts again and this time, Geralt's golden eyes see an opening, quite literally an opening by the rib, just below the saddle.

The sound of the string tensing fills the witcher's ears. He narrows his eyes as he adjusts in his spot to further assess the wound, as well as to properly get an opening.

He notes how the injury was a not new, and yet it was still healing. He tries to listen in on the heartbeat, but even with how large it was, it was still too far for him to hear anything.

He withdraws a bit of tension from his bow, enough for it to still reach the dragon, but only to cause it discomfort, not really to reopen its wound, to rile the beast up enough for it to want to leave with its rider.

Geralt draws in a deep breath and releases it along with his arrow.

The dragon roars and rises from its place once the arrow hits its side.

Dramatic, if you asked him. Geralt was certain it didn't hurt as much as the thing was making it out to be.

As the dragon whined, Geralt unsheathed his blade and surveyed the area, listening in on the rider that would inevitably come next.

He inches closer to the dragon, by its tail, and soon enough he hears quick footsteps and frantic breathing.

When he turns over his shoulder to the source of the sound, the wound tension in his shoulders relaxes a fraction, then tenses again at the shrill whisper-yell.

"What the fuck did you just do?" I demand, throwing the severed head I had in my grip off to the side as I readied my sword in my hand as I went into a defensive stance, "we came for the monster I already slain."

"This thing is the reason why the village burned."

"And you think you can kill it!?"

"No, but its rider will get the message."

I lower my sword, in utter disbelief of what I was hearing, "you think it has a rider?!"

Geralt narrows his eyes, "It has a rider," he corrects, "I shot at its open wound below its saddle."

"THEN YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!" I seethe, gritting my teeth, raising my sword again. Geralt watches me as I stalk closer to the dragon. I catch the way he knit his brows, and it makes my eyes twitch, "you don't know what it means."

Geralt nears me and I elbow him to the chest, "motherfucker."

All at once, the dragon is alerted by our presence.

The massive creature stands on its legs and growls at us.

I feel him, the dragon. I feel his regality, his tie to his rider, and his distress over the arrow. He knows it was one of us that caused it. He draws in a deep breath, ready to burn us both, along with the entire forest.

I drop my sword and I raise my hand, speaking in the dragon's tongue, "calm yourself."

Geralt measures my reaction and is unconvinced by both the language I am speaking, and the fact I disarmed myself.

"We mean you no harm, your grace," I call out, slowly walking over to the dragon.

He screeches and shakes his head.

"You think it can understand you?" Geralt grunts, tensing his jaw as he brings his weapon higher.

The dragon does not appreciate this one bit.

"Just because you don't doesn't mean he doesn't," I quip.

Geralt does not care and pulls out an elixir from his pocket, quickly downing it.

"You fucking idiot! We are not-"

All at once, a command is shouted, "DRACARYS!"

Without thinking, before fire could leave his jowls, Geralt shoots chaos, causing the dragon's head to shoot up and his fire to burn above overhead.

"LYKIRI!" I repeat the same High Valyrian command to the dragon. As his head downturns, the flames he breathed ceases.

Before I realize what is happening, I hear a man shout out as he charges, "WITCH!"

Geralt blocks my view of the incoming assaulter as well as his sword that was sword meant to slay me, "Witcher."

Their weapons skid against the other's. They are upon each other, attacking aggressively, as though their lives depended on it. The dragon grows, restless in the background.

"GERALT, STOP!" I scream as my brother's silver hair swooshes in the air, as does his equally blonde opponent's. My stomach drops at the sight of him, at the sight of the man who bore all indications of a Targaryen prince.

They charge at each other, stepping forward and back, metal crashing against metal. And for a moment, the long haired prince' anger gave him the upper hand, but I knew how Geralt was evading him; he was pulling his punches, but not for long.

I decide to divert my attention to the distressed dragon, finally seeing his saddle, and the arrow stuck to his side like a thorn he could not get out.

He does not like the fact I am quickly nearing him and snaps his teeth at me.

"Do not be insolent," I quip in High Valyrian at the creature, lifting my head up to him with his hand, "I am here to help you."

I could feel my pulse quicken as I make my way to his side.

I decide it's enough that he has not yet killed me for getting this close to him.

"Calm yourself, boy," I mutter under my breath, as I reach up to the arrow on his side. The dragon does a clicking noise, and I do not have time whether to debate it is a warning or a cry for help.

Without another thought, I pull out the arrow with a grunt. The beast whines then withdraws a long breath. I turn to him as it cranes it neck to do the same to me I drop the arrow coated with his blood in front of him. I raise my hands, "it is done."

"CARAXES, DR-"

"Shut the fuck up."

So that's his name. Now who would be his rider?

I turn to Geralt, whimpering in annoyance and dread. I watch him dig his knee on the man's back as he pulls his arm behind him, causing him to yelp. Caraxes rises at the sight of his overcome rider, screeching just as the prince pants beneath my brother on the ground.

Geralt makes a face and shuts his eyes when dragon spit splatters on his face. He clenches his jaw and mutters, "lyriki, beast."

"You do not even know what that means," I retort, "and get off him."

"You do understand that the only reason why that thing hasn't killed us is because its rider is under my knee."

"FUCK OFF!" the said rider growls.

Caraxes responds to this with yet another ear piercing cry.

Through all this, I suddenly remember the name I was looking for, "Aemon! Aemon. Caraxes' rider is Aemon."

Geralt makes a face, realizing what I meant, "you're telling me this is Aemon Targaryen?"

"Well, do you see anyone else commanding the dra-"

"CARAXES-" breaks into a yelp.

"We are having a discussion," Geralt leans down as he growls.

"Geralt," I quip tightly, "get off him," I step closer to the both of them, "now."

The black of Geralt's eyes begin to fade once I am directly in front of him. I kneel down on his side and meet the telltale violet of the eyes of the prince. They narrow when they meet the violet hue of my own.

"You must forgive my younger brother for his insolence, my prince," I mutter as I swat Geralt by his thigh.

He rolls his eyes and finally gets of his captive, "ah yes, older sister," he mocks.

"Time is time and blood is blood," I retort as I eye him before helping the prince from where he laid.

"I remember," the Witcher mutters, "High Valyrian. An elective."

I smirk as I turn back at him, "one you did not take."

"Yes," he sighs as he stands, motioning to his side, "language of the dragons."

"Old Valyria," I correct as I help the prince, who was catching his breath, rolls over, "the Tar-

"Targaryen," he says, heaving, as he falls to his back. He reaches his hand out to me. I knit my brows at him as his fingers find my cheek.

Geralt looks down at him with contempt, lips curling in disgust, "watch your fingers, prince, or you might lose them."

I grunt, "I've quite had enough of you," I snap, rising to my feet. "You have been insufferable since we got here-"

"You're one to talk, little girl," Geralt eyes me darkly.

I crane towards his, "you do understand the consequences of-" I cut myself off when the prince stands to his feet. I change languages, "he is the prince of the seven kingdoms, heir to the throne."

"You whisper this to me as if I have ever cared, sister," he replies in Elder Speech.

"You should," Aemon responds as he looks between us.

We turn to him.

"You know Elder Speech?" I question, narrowing my brows.

He smirks at me, as he brushes his shoulder off, "an elective," he offers, "though I admit I only understood the word prince and guessed what you were saying." He tilts his head, "it seems my intuition has not failed me yet."

Geralt hums deeply and steps forward, "but it did when you misjudged me and allowed me an opening to strike you."

Aemon lifts his gaze upon my brother, whatever smirk that was on his face fades away.

"Enough!" I grunt, pushing them away with chaos.

A gush of wind rips between them.

My brother, who is used to it, steps back once, but the prince reels back and falls to his hind. I quickly extend my hand out to him and flash a guilty look, "apologies."

He looks at me for a moment before taking my hand, "Daemon."

"What?"

I pull him up as he repeats, "Prince Daemon, son of Prince Baelon, brother of Prince Aemon."

"Ah," I nod as I pull away from him. He steps forward when I do and watches me as I respond, "you are Aemon's nephew. His second rider. I will do well to remember, Prince Daemon."

"Indeed," he mutters with a soft smile.

I am pulled back by my arm and wind up crashing against Geralt's armor.

I look up at him he roughly swats the white streaks of my black hair away from my face that consequently was flying up to his because of the wind. He warns me in Nilfgaardian, "focus."

"Do not speak to me as though it is you who has a plan to get us out of this mess," I quip back in the same tongue.

"It would be easy to kill him and make it look like an accident."

I roll my eyes and shake my head.

"So, you are a witch," Daemon cuts in, making both of us turn to him.

"Witcher."

"Sorceress," I correct as I pull away from my brother.

"And what house do you belong to?" the prince asks, tenting his hands before him.

Just then, the dragon who we seemed to have forgotten, makes himself known and cries out to his master.

Daemon raises a dismissive hand and swats his away, sparing him only a second's glace. My brother and I watch as Caraxes huffs and rolls into himself, closing his eyes without another care.

Interesting.

"Kaer Morhen," I say, although questioningly, as I turn to my brother, "perhaps for me, I suppose, Aretuza."

"But Vesemir gave you your name as well."

"Yes, well, in that case, I do su-"

"And who are your parents?" Daemon interjects, tone less curious, and more impatient.

"Now that is the question indeed," Geralt grunts, then once again when I elbow him roughly.

"He's being serious."

"I know he's being serious, look at him."

"Why do you ask, prince?" I shake my head, stepping towards the said man.

Daemon examines me intently, so much so that, had I not been used to such scrutiny, I would have broken eye contact in discomfort. "Your eyes," he trails off as he peers down upon me, "are Targaryen's."

"Ah," my jaw drops. I find a chuckle leave me. "Much like his white hair is," I say, pointing to Geralt. I snort and slap a hand on his arm, "brother, you never told me we were secretly royalty."

He hums, nostrils flaring, "slipped my mind."

I chuckle to myself as I turn back to the prince. I watch as his jaw clenches and will my amusement to evaporate with my sigh, "tis not royalty that made our features so, prince Daemon, but the cruelty of magic. My own hair burns with white streaks because of his," I say.

"And what good is that knowledge to him?" Geralt makes a face as he turns to me.

"Well," I turn back to him, "he asked, did he not?"

"He did not ask you about your hair, any more than his dragon did."

"This is exactly why you have no friends."

"And you say that as though it is a bad thing."

"And you two are blood siblings?" Daemon cuts yet again.

We turn to him.

A moment passes.

The insinuation of the idea we could be anything else with our dynamic brings the familiar shiver down our spines.

"It gets no less revolting through time," Geralt mutters, "much less, knowing the traditions of his house."

I ignore his comment as I clear my throat, "twins, your grace, and I the el-."

Daemon ignores me, averting his attention to Geralt now, "you mention the traditions my house, and yet it seems you are unaware of how it is in my nature to seek satisfaction."

"Hmm," Geralt's brows quirk, "I would too, if my arse got handed to me."

I step in between them before Daemon could lunge. Because of this, I am trapped between the chests of the two hot headed blondes.

"Move," Geralt warns me, although his eyes do not leave Daemon.

"My prince," I ignore him, grabbing onto the fabric Daemon's arms, "you must forgive my baby brother."

Daemon dryly scoffs, eyes not leaving Geralt, "he'll have to get on his knees, my dear."

"You mean my soft belly-"

I shut him up with a gesture and heave, "it is a misunderstanding that we find ourselves in."

Daemon watches as Geralt struggles; he is unable to open his lips.

The prince's eyes finally turn back to me, they glimmer with mischief, "a misunderstanding, you say."

"I should like to treat you to a pint, if you would allow me the honor, so that I may... explain our predicament," I offer a soft smile. I feel my brother move from behind me, and so I shove him away with chaos, lest he shove me away to batter the prince in silence.

Daemon watches as Geralt propels back and hits a tree. By then, my incantation is lifted and so a string of curses leave his lips.

"That depends on whether or not your twin will be joining us."

"If you would prefer only one of us to drink with you, then I shall make it happen."

"Like hell, you would!"

"Then I will hear your explanation for this terrible altercation."

[jasmines-library]

MISC MASTERLIST

Everything else:

Total Works: 7

Last Updated: 31/10/23 or 10/31/23

⛤ MASTERLIST ⛤

⛤ You’ll Be Okay

(Injury, blood, Impalement)

⛤ Baby It’s cold outside

(Whumptober: Hypothermia)

⛤ Poisoned heart

(Title says it all)

⛤ Just forget about it

(Whumptober: conditioning)

⛤ 14 Years

(Whumptober: Experimentation)

⛤ Hold me Tight

(Whumptober: Fear of abandonment)

⛤ Spinning out

(Whumptober: Drowning)

[thewritersaddictions]

Request: The Witcher: Geralt Of Rivia- Brutal Life

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Wolf!Reader

Pov: Geralt

Warnings: Kissing, injured reader, fake monster sighting, camping, jaskier being his normal self, lone wolf, romance, fluff, dreaming.

Summary: A hurt wolf is marked as a monster so Jaskier and Geralt go to investigate. Geralt knows something is off though so he tries to be helpful.

WC- 2.0k

A/n- Firefly-graphics for dividers; Remember that Geralt of Rivia here on my page will continue to be written as if Henry Cavill is playing his character.

The Witcher Master List // Requests Master List

There was commotion going on just outside of the small town that we were staying in. Damn people and there need to intreput my dinner time. Jaskier was already apart of the drama happening outside. He came running back into the bar. “Jaskier what is it now?” A roll of my eyes gave tell to that small fact that I didn’t care or want to go outside to deal with commotion going on. 

“Geralt you just have to help these people. You’re the witcher for fucks sake.” Jaskier wasn’t kidding. He was dragging me or at least trying to drag me towards the door of the bar. “Jaskier would you stop it already.” I mumbled out. “I’m coming alright, are you happy now.” Just outside the door the dark and loud rumbles of a growl could be heard. My interest was peaked to say the least as people ‘ohh’ and ‘awwd’ at whatever monster they had decided stupidly to surround. 

By the time we got outside there was more then a gaggle of people surrounded it. Forcing it down into a tiny closed circle. “Oh the great Geralt Of Rivia here to save the day as always.’ A cocky old gente. I ignored him as I did with truly everybody in my life. “What seems to be the problem here?” I asked loudly into the crowd of people that was steadily growing. 

The ‘monster’ was ovibouly not that scary, or dangerous as the crowd drew louder and crazier with every passing second. The rambles of talking and screaming, and everything else that humans are so great at doing. The smallest of whimper I heard in the crowd of people. “Can angbody get their heads out of their asses and tell me what the fuck is going on.” I asked loudly, my voice moving through the crowd. 

A little girl is the one that answered me. Her voice was squeaky, and high pitched but she came forward. “Witcher it’s just a pour lonesome wolf, her leg is injured a little. She’s a whimpering mess over here.” The little girl said. I was impressed, but then the immediate stress of the world came crashing down on me. If that was so not a true monster then I wasn’t needed here, but the whimpers were so damn hard to ignore. 

“Alright gents and gals it’s time to get your noses into something else that isn’t this clear none monster.” My voice boomed loudly across the field. Their were sighs, and disappointing words flying in through the sky. The growling started as soon as the crowd cleared the field and I got closer. The closer I got the more protective the wolf seemed to get. Jaskier as always was whining behind me. “Geralt let’s just go if you say it’s just some wolf then theres no need to sit around and wait for it to bite on of us.” Jaskier blabbled out. There were many times I wished that I had told Jaskier to shut up, but going to do a task was better for me right now. 

“Why don’t you go gather our things from the bar, and Roach. I’m staying here to help this little one out.” I looked over my shoulder at Jaskier. There was an odd look on his face, then a shrug of his shoulders before he left the two of us in the field. The growled hadn’t stopped not even when I was talking to Jaskier.

 I turned my attention back to the wolf on the ground a growling and whimpering mess. I reached one of my hands out, “Y/n is that you?” The words pouring softly. Even strange to my ears. Her eyes were so damn familiar, and I hadn’t seen her in years… more then years. It felt like decades had passed. The last time I had seen her was when we were young children. Playing and before the world had separated us. The hand that I had reached out was getting closer and closer to being bite. 

“How about we try something different huh?” I suggested, she growled lowly, and kept her eyes on me the entire time. “How about if you want help you just have to follow us.” I wasn’t one for having tag alongs but Jaskier had broken that record, and the wolf well if she was Y/n then there was nothing I would do to help her. Jaskier returned everything in his hands. A small huff of frustration falling from his lips. ‘Are you fucking insane Geralt, I can’t go around having people think I’m just your servant.” With that Jaskier dropped every single one of the bag interlocked in his arms and fingers. I rolled my eyes and walked away from the wolf towards Roach. 

Petting her muzzle and then her mane. I turned and gave Y/n a knowing wink before walking towards the bleak basically dead treeline. Winter was on its way and the further we got away from the cold the happier that Jaskier would be. I kept an eye behind us as we travelled. Jaskier walking beside Roach, I kepther on the right track. “Who’s following us?” Jaskier prayed. I looked down at Jaskier. I wondered for how long had he been standing behind me, while I was talking to Y/n. “Nobody.” I clarified, as I got Roach back on the right path. 

By the time that night fell on the sky, and treeline disappeared behind the dark sky I knew it was time that we stop. The last tiem I had seen Y/n walking behind us was before the sun set, and I was purposely walking Roach slower then normal for Y/n to keep up with us. Yet another thing that Jaskier commented on. “Why are you walking Roach so slow? Is she sick? You aren’t going to put her down if she’s sick are you? I’ll kill you if you do.” Jaskier rambled on, and with that the first question was forgotten behind Jaskiers concern for the well being of the horse.

The moon was high in the sky when we finally managed to settle in the small camp that we had… that I had made for the two of us. I could Y/n far in the distance, close enough to the heat. Far enough away from being caught, or taunted by either on of us. A fire burning that crackled with each burn of leaf and stick. The most scariest thing for Jaskier was the wolf, she had come to camp. A limp in her walk and still forever staying far away. A full moon had just passed and so from what little knowledge I had on wolves I assumed she would be changing form tonight in the darkest of night. 

The wolf had decided that when of course she was comfortable she would join the camp. Jaskier being the scared little puppy he always was about everything wasn’t having it, and retreated to his sleeper. I tired my hardest not to laugh as Jaskier hurried away underneath the sheets of his cot. “If you feel comfortable, my lap is open for you to sit.” I muttered towards Y/n. Her ears peaked up, as she gave me a weary look. The truest of black eyes staring me down as I wondered what might happen. The growls had stopped, and the whimpers had began as Y/n walked on her paw. Small winces could be seen down her snout and with the curve of her brows underneath the prettiest fur I’d ever seen. 

I waited for what seemed like a few moments. Time passed and the fire crackled against the dark sky, I waited until I felt the softest of nudge on my hand. When I did look down it was Y/n, her paw was placed gently on my hand almost bracing herself on me. Her eyes watched me with intent, keeping everything in a close enough gaze. “Y/n just lay down I promise I wont hurt you.” She took only a few seconds before making the quick choice and snuggling into my lap. 

Warmth from her fur exploded into my clothing and skin. I wasn’t about tp pet her, but the closeness was enough for me. It had been so long that I hadn’t even thought of Y/n, but seeing her like this stuck in this form and hurt. My mind raced as I thought of what a cruel human being could have done this. The question popped into my head. Looking down at the curled up wolf in my lap her head rest on my thigh. “Who did this to you Y/n? You must tell me.” Gently the words flowed out soft around the edges and waiting for a response. 

She just looked up and then nuzzled her nose into my thigh. A wet imprint from her nose stained my trousers, and I wondered if she’s ever tell. If she’d ever get the chance to the mutter the name of the horrible, vile, straight up disgusting human had hurt her this way. I moved ever so slightly and took Y/n with me as I lowered myself into the cot. “For now we will sleep and tomorrow you will tell me who hurt you. We have much to discuss Y/n.” I whispered into the cold winters air. 

I dreamt that night for the first time in a long time. A small boy chasing a beautiful young girl. Her hair flowing in the wind before her mother had told her to cut it all off, or rather before the girl had taken a pair of shears to her hair and chopped it off at all sorts of angles uneven with each other. 

I watched as she grew into a beautiful women. With piercing eyes, and a beautiful smile that made me melt in the knees. The only women to ever bring me to my knees was Y/n, the girl that hadn’t thought about in such a long time. Even has I slept the smell of Y/n whafted into my nose. Dirty, blood, but a hint of rose, and lavendar. Calm was everything that Y/n was, she was peace next to me. 

In my dreams I saw a her standing there waiting for me, open arms and the widest smile on her face. Kind eyes that made you fell safe, I ran and ran as fast as my feet would let me. I wanted to feel the warmth of her body, the warmth of her heart pressed up against mine. When I reached her the batted breathe I let out felt like thousands of pounds being lifted off my shoulders. 

She was the one to kiss me. Y/n lips felt so soft, not chapped and cut like mine due to the work I did. Her hand coming to rest comfortalbing in my hair as she tug and pulled me close. No fighting for dominance within the kiss or teeth scrapping against each other. We weren’t haste for time, so we took it for what it was. A peaceful, calm, deep, and loving kiss. The first of many and the best for a first. I wished that I didn’t need air, and Y/n was all that I needed in order ot survive. Y/n was my life line. In her arms I feared nothing and wanted nothing more then to be there in that moment forever with her. 

A brutal life was one of waking up with her gone. Nothing was left behind as a guide of hope, just as she was here she had gone. As luck would have it for me I hope, Y/n might just come back into my life. “She went into the woods. If you move your ass you can catch up to her.” Jaskier yawned. “By the way she stole your coat. I think she might have shifted last night.” Jaskier mentioned, as I wiped the sleep from my eyes and hopped up. In search for maybe just the right person for me.

Completed on: 03/07/23

Posted on: 03/17/23

The Hero's-

[cosmos-coma]

Hey!! If it's okay for you, may I request something about elf&innocent!reader and Geralt? Like they know each other and meet often in Novigrad. She helps Geralt when he is injured and so on 🥺

Blossoms of Beggartick

A/N: Of course!! I hope this works for what you were thinking of because I absolutely loved writing this little ficlet!

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Words: ~700

_______________________________

The day had felt like a sack of bricks on your mind, squishing all of your grey matter into one flat and exhausted pancake. You just couldn’t wait to get home so you could relax and unwind a bit. 

As an elf, you had made the hard decision to take some time away from your people and were currently taking courses at the Oxenfurt Academy. You were already well-practiced as a healer in the use of elvish medicines but had yet to fully delve into the ways that humans and other species used theirs. There was a lot of overlap between them all, so you were making your way through your classes without too much trouble, but the three-hour lectures were starting to wear on you. 

You crossed the bridge into Novigrad, bag slung over your shoulder, medical kid in hand, and made your way up the stairs to the balcony of your apartment. 

“Oh..?” you paused as you noticed the beggartick blossom tucked into the door frame and the droplets of blood leading up the steps from where you came. You knew it could only mean one thing. 

“Gwynbleidd?” you asked as you poked your head inside, excited to see him again after so long. 

“In here…” he mumbled from the other room, sounding tired and gruff. 

You set down your bag of books and brought your kit in towards the living room where you found Geralt sitting on the couch, holding a head wound that was still dripping blood- amongst other injuries. 

“Oh, Geralt… you’re bleeding all over my rug,” You said with a smile as you came over to look over his wounds, fingers wrapping around his wrist as you gently but firmly pulled his hand away. You rummaged your free hand around in your kit before finding what you needed and pressing a gauze against his forehead. 

He snorted, “Well that’s one way to say hello, I missed you too.” He said and rolled his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s been a little longer than usual, how are you holding up?” 

You smiled and kneeled down to his level as you got to work fixing him up, your gentle and easy hands working over his already scarred and time-roughened skin. “It's good. I’m almost finished with my certificates actually.” You said with a proud smile as you handed him a mortar and pestle. “Would you crush this, please? Thank you. I actually finish this spring… but I’m thinking of sticking around for a while. How would you ever know where to find me otherwise?” You said with a bit of a playful scrunching of your nose as you spoke.

As Geralt crushed and helped you prepare what you needed, you began stitching up the wounds too deep to heal on their own properly. “You’re right on that. I’d be shit out of luck in Novigrad without you around.” 

“Language, my dear Witcher,” you warned and tied off a line of stitches, straight and concise just like you had practiced hundreds of times before. 

“Oh, ‘your dear Witcher’ am I..?” he teased, with a cheeky smile about him. You never understood the rumors of witchers having no emotions- dulled? Maybe. But you look at the smile he gives you now and you know the rumors can only be that. Rumors. 

“Not if you keep that up.” You said with a gentle swat to his arm before taking the mortar from him, ”Thank you for your help.” You slathered the poultice over his wounds before bandaging them up with care. “There you go, all fixed up,” you said with a warm smile and stood once again, wiping your hands on the front of your dress. 

“Really though…. I don't know what I would do here without you.” Geralt paused to say, his hand now wrapping around your wrist to make sure you stay beside him just a little longer.  

Your smile softened and grew even wider as your free hand came up to graze his cheek. “Then it's a good thing you’ll never have to worry about that, My dear Witcher. Now rest up for a bit and then maybe you can help me get to work on dinner?”

Geralt smiled an easy smile and nodded, hand loosening away from your wrist and lingering on your hand before fully dropping away. “Of course, my little elf….”

_________________________

Taglist: @open--till--midnight @writingmysanity @dark-academia-slut

[justanoasisimagines]

For you

Summary; Geralt's been lying to you about his pain. Now he'll do anything to get you to stay. Pairing; Geralt of Rivia x Female Reader WordCount; 538 A/N; Hey lovelies back with another drabble. My requests are open and my guidlines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Geralt stormed through the crowd ignoring the stares and the hushed remarks. Examining the crowd, he searched for you. You'd stormed off after you'd learned he'd lied. Lied about how injured he was. He gritted his teeth pain spreading all over his body as he pushed through. He caught a glimpse of your navy cloak, and Geralt's pace picked up. Never before had he been grateful for a Witcher's reputation.

Much to Geralt's surprise, he caught up to you, reaching out he grasped your hand in his. You immediately pulled back, turning hurt in your eyes. "I told you to leave me alone." "No." You turned your body to face him. Geralt dared to face your wrath as he stepped into your space. You took a step back but Geralt stepped forward, and your jaw tightened. "Shouldn't you be off, pretending to be okay, when you're one hit away from collapsing?" Your eyes turned away as they glassed over, Geralt reached out taking your hand, you didn't yank it away from him his time. "That is the life of a Witcher." With a tug of your hand, Geralt tightened his entwining your fingers together. "That is the life of witcher." With a tug of your hand, Geralt tightened his entwining your fingers together. "I will not stand by and watch you work yourself into the ground." Geralt's stomach sank. He should have known you would leave him soon enough. Yet he couldn't imagine his life with you by his side. "No," Your eyes flickered between his searching for something. "No?" "You're not leaving." "I'm not watching you kill yourself. It's not-" "I fucking love you." Eyes winded, mouth agape, Geralt closed any remainder of a gap, whispering the words again, a private moment between the two of you. "Don't leave me. I can't force you to stay, but this belongs to you. It always has." Geralt brought his hand entwined with yours to his heart. "I don't want to leave you, but I can't watch you keep doing this to yourself. You wouldn't even tell me-" "I'll take a break. I'll take some time to heal. Pick a location and we're going." "Geralt," Geralt kept your hand firmly on his heart. "I don't want to influence you into something you wish to not do." "You're not. My world changed. The moment our eyes laid on each other. Whether I knew it or not. So name a place and we'll gather supplies and go." "Promise me, you never lie to me about being in pain." Geralt leaned in, breaths mingling with one another. "I swear to you." Geralt leaned down pressing his lips to yours firmly, circling his free hand around your waist, you reached out to the nape of his neck, playing with the small hairs. You pulled away to inhale, just about to rejoin your lips, Geralt chasing your lips when you looked past him. "Geralt, we've got an audience." You whispered under your breath. "Let them. They're only envious of what they're lacking." Your lips fought a smile. Geralt purposely brought your lips down onto yours. If they were going to stare, he was going to enjoy kissing you once more. Then his rest could begin.

[iridescent-petrichor]

inkpot gods

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Warnings: reader kills four people, a little graphic, reader and jaskier both get injured

Words: 5.3K

A/N: hi!! i rlly hope this fic like . makes sense?? it's four in the morning and i couldn't get this idea out of my mind but i hope the jumping around isn't too disorienting

Oh what, these? These aren't tears

It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall

You tried to calm the tears streaming down your face when you heard Jaskier approaching, quickly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand when his footsteps stopped just beside you. Shifting your weight so you sat facing away from him, you blinked back the tears that continued to threaten to spill.

“There you are,” His voice was gentle, already noticing something was wrong. Despite his boisterous personality, he was always able to tell when to take a more tender spirit. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, still refusing to look at him knowing full well your eyes would give you away.

“Love,” Jaskier took a careful seat beside you, gingerly placing a hand on your knee. You couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at your lips from the pet name he used. Jaskier rarely called you by your own name, opting towards more poetic and affectionate names. While neither of you had taken the step towards anything official, it wasn’t hard to see how close the two of you had gotten.

“I’m fine.” You insisted, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.

“You don’t have to be, you know.” He said, staring at the view ahead of the both of you. Before you stood a wondrous mountain view, something worthy of one of Jaskier’s songs, especially with the sunset painting the sky with deep oranges and reds.

There was a beat of silence before Jaskier spoke again.

“Think of your tears as the rain.” Your brows furrowed, giving him a confused look. “Your tears are just the rain that wasn’t brave enough to fall.”

“Is this some piece from a song you’re writing?” You ask, wiping away the fresh tears that were now streaming down your face.

He laughed, moving his hand from your knee to rest over your shoulders. “I’m trying to say that there’s strength in crying.” Now risking a glance towards you, his eyes softened at the tears glistening in your eyes.

“I don’t feel very strong.” You responded, voice hoarse.

“But you are.” When you didn’t say anything, Jaskier pulled you closer, the comfort of his embrace making you sigh in relief. “You’re stronger than you know.

And what they hear isn't laughter after all

It's just your voice learning for once to stand up tall

Your laughter rang through the crowded tavern, music to Jaskier’s ears. He’d made some offhand comment about Geralt’s hair that you could no longer unsee, looking back at the witcher who had been grabbing a fresh ale before you turned back to the bard before you.

“Your laugh is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” Jaskier said, his voice so soft you felt your heart swell in your chest. He looked at you as if you held the stars in your eyes, the smile on his face was contagious.

“After all these exhausting days, it’s nice to laugh again.” You said, leaning back in your seat, visibly relaxing.

“It’s like a breath of fresh air. Like,” Jaskier sat forward, reaching to you to put his hands over yours. “There’s this cruel world that wants nothing more than to break us down, and in spite of it, we continue to laugh, we’re still grateful for the fortune we have!”

“In spite of everything we’ve gone through, we can still hole up in a tavern and I can listen to you play music until the sun sets.” You continued, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Well, I have people to entertain, dear heart,” Jaskier said, grinning from ear to ear. “That does include you.” His thumb rubbed over your hand, a movement you weren’t entirely sure he was even aware of.

By the time Geralt had rejoined the table, your face hurt from how much you were smiling. Jaskier had a keen ability to keep your mood up even in the worst conditions. With his infectious laughter and poetic pep talks, you knew you always had a light in your life to keep you going.

And when the rain came down

When Jaskier found you laying in the mud, rain pouring down over the both of you, he screamed for Geralt louder than he’d ever screamed in his life. You were unconscious, the blood from a cut on your head running down your face, mixing with the rainwater.

Geralt was too far off from the group to defend them when a monster stumbled across the two of you. In your attempt to get it away from Jaskier, you ran off the beaten path deeper into the forest.

He lost you in the downpour, barely being able to see two feet in front of him. Despite the ever-present danger of the monster that had been there only moments ago, Jaskier stumbled blindly through the woods until he found you.

“Geralt!” His voice was hoarse from yelling, desperate for his friend to hear him.

Jaskier knew the importance of timing, and he used all his strength to pull you back to the path, barely registering Geralt’s thundering footsteps that grew louder by the second.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice went in one ear and out the other, with Jaskier continuing to bring your limp body through the woods, muttering pleas under his breath.

He only stopped when Geralt placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the witcher with glassy eyes.

“You have to help her.” He begged, barely holding it together.

Without another word, Geralt bent down to pick you up, lifting you with ease. Jaskier trailed behind him, squinting to see ahead of him through the dense rain while Geralt brought you to a safe and dry location to fix you up.

Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Geralt was moving quickly, trying to get through the forest to the inn you were all staying at for the night, glancing down at the blood running down your face every few seconds.

I made a vow out to the dark

Please let her live just one more day

For the first time in Jaskier’s life, he prayed.

He sat by your bedside, praying to any god that could hear him, anyone that was listening, to do something to help you.

You lay before him, a blanket covering you. Geralt was off on the other side of the room, concocting a potion that would help you. It was a delicate balance, and he was focused more than ever to create something that wouldn’t do more harm than good. The cut on your head was hastily cleaned and bandaged, but neither of them could tell what the extent of your injuries was.

“Please,” Jaskier whispered, eyes screwed shut with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “Please just let her live. Just one more day, please, I’m begging you.”

On the other side of the room, Geralt raised the potion, holding it up to the light and swirling it around. The movement caused a faint glow in the bottle, and Geralt brought the potion back down in front of him, grabbing one final ingredient.

'Cause she is so much more than all her scars

And if she doesn't have the will

“She can’t die,” Jaskier muttered, voice breaking. “She can’t.”

“She won’t.” Geralt’s voice didn’t sound very certain. There was something in his tone that made Jaskier’s heart drop. After knowing the witcher for so many years he was able to deduce even the slightest changes in his attitude, and Jaskier could tell how worried Geralt was under his hardened exterior.

He finished mixing an herb into the potion, setting it to the side while Jaskier spoke.

“She’s endured so much, Geralt.” There was a faraway look in the bard’s eyes. “Everything she’s gone through; all her scars, all her pain… It can’t end here. It can’t be for nothing.”

“It’ll be okay.” Geralt crossed the room, standing in front of you. He knelt down, gently pulling your mouth open and pouring the potion down your throat.

“Is it working?” Jaskier asked when he set the empty bottle down. Nothing had happened yet, but Geralt let it slide seeing how nervous he was.

Still, the witcher said nothing, staring intently while the potion worked its magic. Your veins glowed a faint blue color for a moment before it died down, the silence between the two men was deafening.

But it seems the whole world does I'll stay because

I will be the man my father never was

As he stared down at you, the first person to make him feel comfortable with his emotions, he couldn’t help but think back to a moment between him and his father when he was a child. The tears on his face were long forgotten with the memory playing in the back of his mind.

“Julian!” His father’s booming voice echoed around the room as he looked down at his crying son. “Stop your whining, you need to man up! No child of mine will be caught sniveling like a little girl!”

Jaskier sniffled, wiping the tears from his eyes to no avail. He took a shuddering breath, hiding his face behind his hands. A broken lute sat before him, smashed by his father during an argument about where the boy’s future was going.

“Julian, now!” His father’s voice rang through his ears, and after a couple more moments, he was able to catch his breath, angrily swiping the tears out of his eyes.

He had barely managed to compose himself, long enough that his father lost interest, going off to find something else to be angry about.

Before he left the room, slamming the door on his way out, Jaskier could hear his father muttering about his worthless son. Still, he forced the tears back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep his sobs at bay.

When Jaskier looked at you, he remembered the first time he performed in front of you. The way you looked at him while he danced around the tavern was forever imprinted on his mind. There was so much adoration in your eyes, and you were smiling wider than he’d ever seen. Afterward, you’d told him how much you loved his singing, and he felt such a resurgence in confidence in his music that he hadn’t felt since he was very young.

And what you hear is not silence

It's just the trees waiting to hear what next you'll hum

On a quiet evening on the road, Jaskier had stopped strumming his lute. You noticed his shift in emotion, slowing to walk by his side. The three of you were traveling deep in the woods on your way to the next town with Geralt perched on Roach as per usual while you and Jaskier walked down the dirt path behind him.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked quietly, nudging the bard lightly to get his attention. He seemed lost in his thoughts, staring up at the night sky with a heavy sigh.

“It’s quiet.” He said, dropping his gaze to look around at the expanse of trees. The only other sound around you was Roach’s hooves hitting the ground. “I don’t want to disrupt that.”

“Oh Jask,” You could see a hint of a smile at the use of the nickname, something you picked up after his constant use of pet names towards you. “That’s not just silence.

He turned to you, slowing his walk with a look of confusion on his face.

“It’s the trees waiting to hear your next song.” You grinned, gesturing towards the open woods. “The world just wants to listen to your music.”

Jaskier laughed, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Please,” You persisted when he didn’t move to grab his lute. “I want to hear it.”

With a slight reluctance, Jaskier grabbed the lute he’d maneuvered over his shoulder, adjusting it in his hands. He began strumming the instrument, a soft tune echoing through the trees as he hummed the beginnings of his next ballad.

You couldn’t help the smile gracing your face, hanging on to every note he sang.

And what you see is not the dark

It's just the gods upturning inkpots

'Cause they know what you'll become

Not long after that evening, the three of you had set up camp not long after the sun had set, walking a few minutes off the dirt path to steer clear of other travelers.

Geralt was fast asleep not far from Roach, while you tried to relax in your own bedroll close to Jaskier’s.

It didn’t take long, however, to notice Jaskier sitting upright and staring out at the darkness around him, eyes darting around the woods as if he would miss something that would leap out and attack him. You frowned, scooting closer to him, apologizing quietly when he jumped at your movement. Stopping when your bedroll was touching his, you placed a careful hand on his shoulder, giving him a worried look you were sure he couldn’t see in the dark.

“You alright?”

He didn’t respond, still looking out into the empty night. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped for a moment, listening.

“No?”

He turned to you with a start, eyes wide with fear. “What if there’s something out there?”

“Then Geralt will handle it.” You nodded to the witcher a few feet from you, hand resting on his sword in his sleep.

Jaskier didn’t respond, but you could tell he was still on edge. An idea popped into your head, and you shifted in your seat, preparing to give the storyteller the gift he’d given you so often.

“The dark out there,” You pointed, watching him follow where your hand led. “It’s the gods upturning inkpots just for you.”

His brows furrowed, still looking out where you’d pointed.

“See, they know what an artist you’ll become. They’re giving you the proper materials.” You grinned when you saw him relax slightly, moving closer to you.

“The world, the gods, everyone can see what you’re going to become. I can see it, too.” Your voice was quiet, now, the moment becoming startlingly intimate.

��Can you, now?” Jaskier smirked, trying to ignore his increased heartbeat at the lack of distance between the two of you.

With an overconfident nod, you moved your hand over his shoulders. “Of course I can.”

And to those gods I will speak bluntly

We've an accord

If you ever touch or harm him

Your scream pierced the air when you saw a stray arrow flying through the air, striking Jaskier in the side. When you turned back to the bandit who sat atop his horse, bow still at the ready, your eyes darkened.

It didn’t take long to deal with him, reaching up to slice a dagger into his chest before he could reload his bow, barely paying him any mind as he slid off the horse, rushing to Jaskier’s side.

“Geralt!” Your voice carried through the air, praying it reached the witcher who wasn’t much further down the path.

Cursing under your breath, you ripped the cloth from your sleeve, pressing it onto his wound around the arrow to stop the bleeding.

The sight before you broke your heart into pieces, looking down at the bleeding bard. Someone who was once so vibrant, so loud and eccentric, rendered practically silent.

“Geralt!” You called again, voice cracking. Your hands were covered in blood, seeping through the fabric of your torn sleeve. The thought of it being Jaskier’s blood made you nauseous, but you persisted, shutting your eyes tightly and cursing again.

“I swear to you,” You muttered, opening your eyes just long enough to send a glare to the sky, addressing any god that could hear you. “If you allow him to die you will never know peace for as long as I live. You have to save him. You cannot let him die. You can’t.”

Please rest assured

That you might not fear a man

But to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plea

By the time Geralt reached your side, you were still hovering over Jaskier, the body of the bandit not far from either of you.

“The rest of his group are on their way, I can hear three more bandits.” He said, shifting his focus to Jaskier’s wound. “Deal with them, I’ll handle Jaskier.”

You nodded, standing shakily. “Don’t let him die.”

There was a fire in your eyes that stared deep into Geralt’s, and he knew there would be hell to pay if any more harm came to your bard. He unsheathed one of his swords, handing it off to you.

“Go.”

And with his word, you were off.

The three bandits barely stood a chance against you, your blood boiling with the fear of losing Jaskier and the anger of what had been done to him.

You gripped the sword tighter in your hands, seeing one of them approaching. He grinned when he made eye contact with you, unaware of how little life he had left.

By the time you were finished and making your way back to Geralt, the final man left was bleeding out off to the side of the path, propped against a tree with blood pouring from a deep gash on his leg.

“Please,” He begged, looking up at you as you passed. “I beg of you, save me.”

You looked down upon him, grimacing at the sight. His eyes were filled with hope when you approached him, Geralt’s sword still stuck inside the body of a bandit not far off.

It wasn’t until you picked up the axe just out of his reach that the hope faded from his eyes. He didn’t have enough time to beg once more for his life before you brought the axe down over his head, barely flinching when he went limp. You stepped away, pulling the sword out of the corpse that lay bloody in the grass and walking in the direction Geralt had gone.

When you finally found Geralt, who had laid Jaskier onto a bed, handling the wound as fast as he could, he looked up at you.

You gave him a blank stare, letting the sword fall from your hands with a loud clatter, walking to the other side of the room to work on a potion that might help Jaskier. The witcher knew without having to ask that the blood slashed across your face wasn’t your own. Once he gathered you were uninjured, he turned his focus back to the bard before him.

'Cause I'm more than what my mum told me to be

When you thought back to the man pleading for his life, you were reminded of what your mother had always told you when you were younger.

“Y/N,” Your mother sighed when she saw you enter the house covered in dirt, a wide smile on your face that slowly faded at her reaction. “Wash up immediately. It’s not ladylike.”

To avoid an argument, you quickly washed up, wiping the dirt from your face and putting on a clean pair of clothes.

“I wish you wouldn’t play in the woods so often.” She continued once you reappeared, gathering dinner for you and her.

“But it’s fun?” You were truly confused why she had such a problem with it, it’s not like dirt was permanent - you could wash it off any time.

“It’s not ladylike. It’s uncivilized.” Your brows furrowed.

“But then why are the other boys in town allowed to play in the dirt?” When the question left your mouth, the look on your mother’s face made you regret even asking.

“You will never have a respectable life if you continue down this road. You’ll never find a good man, and you’ll just be a hag living alone for the rest of your life.” She didn’t even have to raise her voice to get her point across, the sentence striking deep into your heart.

You sat in silence for a few seconds before you nodded, trying to push away the insecurity burying itself deep within you.

Looking down at Jaskier taking shallow breaths, you blinked back tears, handing Geralt the potion you’d made. With your anxiety steadily increasing, you watched Geralt pour the potion into the gaping wound.

“And now?” You asked, watching the magic cling to Jaskier. It looked similar to a web, pulling at the edges of the wound, working to close it.

“We wait,” Geralt said, leaving the room to give you privacy. He knew you weren’t going to leave Jaskier’s side anytime soon, so he retired to his own room to rest for the night.

He was right - you planted yourself in the seat beside the bed, eyeing the lute that lay on the floor, unscathed.

And I can hear her sing

Jaskier as he lay in bed, felt so far away from the world he was so used to. It was as if he was in a dreamlike state, but he could distantly make out the sound of his own lute. The first few notes caught his attention, strumming carefully.

It wasn’t until he heard your voice singing quietly that he felt some strength return to him. The sound of your singing was so faint and almost distorted that it felt like he was underwater, sinking further and further away from the land of the living. He could barely make out the words you were saying, but it felt so familiar all the same.

With a massive strain of effort, he pushed himself forward, trying with all his might to get back to you.

And I know she's giving up

With you still laying on the bed, the blue glow from Geralt’s potion long gone from your veins, Jaskier couldn’t help the anxiety building in his chest.

“She’s getting weaker,” Geralt said, and Jaskier swore he felt his heart tear into pieces.

Trying to push back his fear, Jaskier knelt by your bedside, taking your hand in his with the utmost care.

“Please, my love.”

You didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

“I need you,” Jaskier’s voice cracked painfully, a tear rolling down his face when he blinked. “Please stay with me.”

And I don't know what to do, how to help her

How to bring her home

Jaskier, stuck in a dreamlike state, pushed through the feeling of being underwater with your voice just beyond his reach. He had used up all his strength and was now floating in limbo with nothing but your soft voice filling his senses.

The pain was too much that he’d begun to panic, worried he wouldn’t be able to make it home to you. He wanted nothing more than to wake up, to see you smile, to hear your laugh, to be able to hold you in his arms.

He wanted to tell you he loved you.

He needed to tell you he loved you.

When your voice broke, he realized you were crying.

It brought a newfound strength to his body, fighting harder than before to get out, to wake up.

To get to you.

And I can hear him break

You knew you weren’t awake, that you weren’t conscious. You could practically feel how close you were teetering on the line between life and death, trapped in a void-like limbo. Your whole body was numb, the feeling of floating disorienting you.

It was so quiet you almost missed it, but you perked up at the sound of Jaskier’s voice echoing around you. It was so faint you had to strain to listen, unable to make out the words he was saying.

Still, it brought you an odd source of comfort. Even so close to death, Jaskier was still right there, waiting for you. It was a reminder of what to fight for. Something - someone you knew you had to fight for.

You could hear the way his voice broke, and you forced yourself to push toward the source of the sound, knowing you needed to get back to Jaskier no matter what.

And he doesn't understand

Jaskier, doing everything he could to get back to you, was strengthened by hearing you muttering soothing words. You’d stopped singing at this point, instead telling him how he was going to be alright. How you’d make sure of it. How you weren’t going to let him die. Anyone listening would’ve thought you were confident in your words, but Jaskier could hear the way your voice shook almost imperceptibly, fighting back the fear in your heart.

He would never understand why you were so scared of the idea of losing him - you’d mentioned it before on other days when he’d had brushes with death and danger. You told him about how much you needed him, and he couldn’t understand why someone like him was so important to someone like you. He had always wondered why you cared so deeply for him, but it wasn’t something he wanted to take for granted.

So, pushing on, he forced himself to move forward, your voice echoing around him louder than ever.

And I wish that I could take his hand

But where I'm going is for me and me alone

Still trapped in limbo, you bit back the pain you felt, forcing yourself to move closer to Jaskier’s distant voice. You had barely started to make out what he was saying; he seemed to be talking to Geralt about your condition.

“Is it working? Geralt, is anything even happening?” He sounded angry, angrier than you’d ever heard him.

Geralt had responded, but he was so far away you could barely hear him.

“I cannot lose her!” You heard him yell. The pain in his voice pulled at your heartstrings.

Continuing forward, you wanted nothing more than to take his hand in yours and tell him everything was alright. That you were alright.

Though, you weren’t sure if that was true or not at this point.

Another part of you knew, as well, that this was a journey you had to survive on your own, especially if you wanted to see him again.

And I can hear her sing

Louder than ever now, Jaskier could hear your singing. It was a ballad of his that you always told him you loved. It warmed his heart that you knew it so well. You were strumming along on his lute - he remembered when he taught you how to play when the two of you had spare time, which you often did as Geralt was often alone getting coins for the group.

Every part of his body was in pain, but with every note you played and every word you sang, he knew he had to get back to you.

He continued, fighting his way toward the sound of your voice that echoed around him, trying to ignore the ache in his side with every movement.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier was still talking - he was always good at that. When your limbs felt like jello and every step took every ounce of your energy, you let yourself focus on his calming voice.

For a brief moment, you wondered what would happen if you didn’t make it back. You were so weak you almost let yourself sink back down, falling closer to the line between life and death when Jaskier caught your attention once more.

“Please, Geralt. Please save her. I need her, I can’t-” His voice broke harshly, and you knew nothing would stop you from getting back to the bard that had found himself in your heart.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier’s finger twitched, and he was starting to feel his surroundings once more, bit by bit. The void state he was in began to fill with color. Your voice was unwavering, now moving on to humming random tunes while you plucked the strings of his lute, unaware of how close Jaskier was to waking up.

He was still unable to force his eyes open, but he could feel the world around him a little better by the second.

The warmth of the blanket laid over him, the light wind from the open window beside him, it all started to creep back into his senses.

After all, you’d been trying so hard to bring him back, he might as well try to do his part.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

You made your way closer to where you could hear Jaskier, the desperation in his tone making you more determined than ever.

Ever so faintly, you swore you could feel someone grab your hand, so gently that you instantly knew it was him.

“My heart,” Jaskier whispered, the sound echoing into your soul. “Please wake up.”

The world around you started to fill your senses, so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

Just as you began to come to, lightly squeezing Jaskier’s hand as a silent indication that you were there, the only thought in your mind was how there was no way in hell you were leaving Jaskier again.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier blinked awake, squinting at the sudden amount of light.

He barely had enough time to get his bearings before you wrapped your arms around him. He made a noise of surprise, blinking a couple more times before he realized what was going on. Still weak, he brought his arms up around you to return your embrace, letting himself relax in your arms.

“Y/N,” His voice was quiet, but you heard him clear as day, tightening your hold on him.

You finally pulled away, giving Jaskier a shaky smile, whispering a hello that made him grin. Quickly, you wiped the tears that had spilled from your eyes, his gaze softening.

“You’re alright,” You almost laughed, saying the words mostly for yourself than him.

(Loved you all along)

When you managed to open your eyes, Jaskier’s hand still firmly in yours, his breath hitched. He would later tell you it felt like the world slowed down around him the moment he saw your eyes open.

You tried to sit up in the bed before Jaskier hurriedly ushered you back down, not bothering to swipe at the tears from his eyes, too focused on your presence to even notice.

“Of course you were too stubborn to die.” He muttered with a wet laugh.

You barely nodded, still regaining your strength.

“Never scare me like that again, Y/N.” Jaskier’s voice lowered, suddenly very stern. “I can’t lose you. I really can’t.”

“I know, Jask.” He couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, hearing you say it with so much love that he could practically feel your adoration towards him.

Ever so gently, he pulled you into a warm hug, burying your head in his neck.

“I needed to get back to you.” You explained, voice muffled in Jaskier’s hold. “I wasn’t ready to leave you, not yet.”

Jaskier’s brows furrowed, though you hadn’t seen it.

“Why me?” The words came before he could stop them, and he regretted them for only a second when he felt you pull away only for you to maneuver yourself so your forehead was resting against his.

With Geralt long gone, wanting to give the two of you privacy to talk, you sat with him in the silence, comfortable in his presence in a way you could only be around him.

Breaking through the silence was a whispered confession, only to be heard by the both of you.

“I loved you all along.”

[ihatethis1234]

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ 𝐺𝑒𝑡 𝑇𝑜 𝐾𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑀𝑒♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

You can call me kai, vex or vexian, Kurt my pronouns are he/him, I'm a trans gay guy, my favorite song is in-a-gadda-da-vida by Iron Butterfly my favorite animal is a raccoons I'm a fan of ghost, rammenstien, queen, pink Floyd, the beatles, rob Zombie, alice cooper, misfits, bon jovi, mindless self indulgence, insane clown posse, and system of a down.

My favorite movies include, black christmas, Halloween, friday the 13th, house of a thousand corpses, scream, the boy, and Texas chainsaw massacre 1 and 2.

I am local to the Ohio area so my time zone is est/ eastern Standard time.

My favorite characters are choptop Sawyer, Bubba Sawyer, nubbins sawyer, micheal myers, Jason Voorhees, Billy lenz, Billy Loomis, and brahms heelshire.

My Spotify is 𝓥𝓮𝔁𝓲𝓪𝓷 you can copy it and search it in Spotify

I'm a Satanist

I am learning to speak german

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝐿𝑖𝑠𝑡♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

~{Charaters}~

Alejandro -Cod

Argyle - Stranger Things

Billy Hargrove -Stranger Things

Billy Lenz -Black Christmas

Billy Loomis -Scream

Bo Sinclair - house of wax

Brahms Heelshire -The Boy

Bubba sawyer-Texas chainsaw massacre

Captain Spaulding-House Of A Thousand Corpses

ChopTop Sawyer-Texas chainsaw massacre 2

Corey Cunningham-Halloween Ends

Drayton Sawyer -Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Eddie Munson - Stranger Things

Gaz -Cod

Geralt - The Witcher

Ghost - Cod

Harry Warden - My Bloody Valentine

Jack in the box mascot - it obvious where he's from.

Jareth The Goblin King - Labyrinth

Jason Voorhees -Friday The 13Th

Jhon Price -Cod

könig -Cod

Lester -house of wax

Micheal Myers -Halloween

Nubbins Sawyer -Texas Chainsaw

Massacre

Otis Driftwood -House Of A Thousand Corpses

Secoundo - Ghost

Steve Harrington - Stranger Things

Thomas Hewitt -Texas Chainsaw

Massacre The Beginning

Vincent Sinclair - house of wax

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ 𝑅𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐺𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

. Smut

. Fluff

. Angst

. Comfort

. Horror

{Smut dos}

. The characters on the list above

. Slow build

. Porn with plot

. Sub reader

. Survice Sub reader

. Male reader

. Cis male reader

. Trans male reader (ftm)

{Kinks i absolutely write for}

. Blood kinks

. BDSM

. Bondage

. Choking

. Overstim

. Edging

. Anything rough (minus rape)

. Body worship

. Sex to music (idk what it's called)

. Foreplay

. Knife play (non traumatic)

. Gun play (non traumatic)

. Size kink

. Masochic

. Sadistic

. Crying (non forced way)

. Mutual masturbation

. Soft sex

. Soft Dom characters allowed

. After care

. No after cares allowed to

. NSFW ABCs

. Headcanons

{Smut mabeys}

. Forced (as long as content I'd giving at some point)

. Stalking

(unless it's a slasher that does that)

{Smut donts}

. Piss kinks

. Fences kinks

. Feet kinks

. Pedophila

. pro ships

. Charater x character

. Necrophilia

. Death kinks

. Gun play (traumatic)

. Knife play (traumatic)

. Female reader

. Dom reader

. Asking me to write with a character that isn't on the list (goes for all) unless I reply say I will once I watch the series.

. Rape

. Pet play (it makes me uncomfy)

(You can ask me if I will write for a character tho if it's not on the list)

{Fluff/ comfort dos}

. Mental break down comfort

. Cuddling

. Dysphoria comfort

. Motivational

. Nightmare comfort

. After care fic

. Soft head cannons

{Angst dos}

. Readers death (reaction)

. Character death

. Injured

. Fainted

. Arguments

(That's all I can think of rn)

{Horror fics dos}

. Slasher character

. Yandere

. Murder

. Gore

. Kidnapping

. Death

. Killer reader

. Taunting

. Stalking

. 16-30 year old reader (if the reader is 16 there will probably not be smut unless it's like stu or somthing)

. Killer couple

. Ghost reader

I will writer for NonBinary reader 𝑏𝑢𝑡 it may take longer if requested.

Under no circumstances will a write for a female reader I will write ftm but not female

Also all female allied that have a fetish for gay relationships or reader yaoi may NOT  interact with my posts you will be blocked.

Also

DO NOT ASK ME TO WRITE SMUT FOR MINORS!!

-Vexian❤️‍🔥

(Will add new characters as I watch more movies and shows)

[chimcess]

Birdie Shoppe || pjm (V)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 7.1k Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the north and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Birdie, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the 123rd Birdie, a young girl who was given her position too early and asked by the goddess herself to fulfil a task none had ever done before- become the Grand Witch of the Foxglove pack. Now a woman, Y/N is revered as the most loved and powerful Birdie of all time, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Chapter Warnings: Long-hair Jimin (yes, this is a warning), Cursing, Violence, Mentions of blood, Descriptions of blood, Descriptions of gore, Main Character Badly Injured, Did I say long-hair Jimin? (think The Witcher), the feels, ANGST, this is probably the most angst we’ve gotten, fluff, just Jimin being a cinnamon roll (partially edited) A/N: Not me updating within a month. I’ve been writing a ton lately, so I was able to pump this out. Hope you enjoy~

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My heart ached at the sight of Kim Taehyung. It had been little more than a day since he had been chosen and already his life was spiraling out of control. The pack did not accept him as their leader and Sol, while clear in her desires for him, had been barred from seeing him until everything had been sorted out. Namjoon had challenged him and his authority just before four in the morning which led him to my door step.

He looked worse for wear. His unruly hair tangled into matts that would take hours to brush out. Chief Ahn had taken out much of his frustration on the young boy and now Taehyung’s once lovely skin had bruises, welts, and cuts all over it. One look at him and I did not hesitate to allow him sanctuary. It was the least I could do for the man who saved me from heartbreak.

“I’ve got your face,” I mumbled, reaching back into another jar of salve. I had used two on his face and neck alone. “Take off your clothes. I need to make sure nothing is infected.”

Taehyung nodded, still crying. The moment I let him inside he had unleashed all of his emotions and was having a very difficult time getting himself under control. I did not mind. I felt pity for the alpha.

I was not surprised to find his body in just as bad of shape as the rest of him. I took great care not to stare for too long. I was not uncomfortable with his nakedness, but I was still aware that he was a man. Grip harsh, I started with his stomach. I let out a large, frustrated breath through my nose.

“I can’t believe this,” I grunted. “Why would you allow them to do this to you?”

Taehyung hissed in pain as I pressed too hard on a tender spot.

“I did not want to fight,” He replied.

I laughed humorlessly. “So they get to do as they please with you then?”

He did not know what to say.

“If you ever want to be taken seriously-” I opened up another jar of salve and began rubbing it into his chest, “-this will never happen again.”

Taehyung bit his lip and furrowed his eyebrows. He seemed upset by what I had said. He was such a naive boy. I felt my eyes watering with anger. If Kim Namjoon were here right now, I would kill him myself. How dare he allow anybody to do this to a child and feed into it by challenging him? I would be sure he knows just how unhappy I am with him.

“I do not want to rule with violence,” Taehyung said. “I don’t like fighting or shouting. It’s… uncivilized.”

I hummed. While I agreed I would not entertain the idea. Taehyung needs to fight if he wants to be seen. It is the only way to garner respect unless he wants to be compared to the others for the rest of his life. Chief Ahn would never allow that. Again, my anger spiked. That man…

“And yet you can come to my doorstep at the crack of dawn like some kicked puppy?” I spat. “Are you truly that pathetic?”

Taehyung whimpered and I almost felt bad. Harshness was necessary in these circumstances and I wanted him to become fired up. Instead, it only served to back him further into a corner. Taking a deep breath, I willed myself to calm down.

“Alpha,” I said.

“Taehyung,” He corrected weakly.

I sighed. 

“I apologize for my rudeness. I’m sure you’ve gotten enough of a beating for one night and I don’t intend to add to that.”

He laughed without humor. It was scary how much my temper flared at the sight of him. All I wanted to do was march down to the village and give every single one of them a piece of my mind. A certain fair haired man came to mind, and I saw red. How could he allow this to ever happen?

“However,” I continued, “You’re Sol’s mate. She needs you to be strong right now. Think about her.”

For the first time tonight, I saw something light up in his eyes. I knew it was torture for the both of them to be away from one another. Sol was probably raging a storm back in Foxglove and I knew she expected the same from her alpha. She would be dreaded to know where he was instead. Taehyung seemed to have picked up on that idea as well.

“I have been!” He snarled. “It’s the only reason I didn’t want to fight back! The chief is her father and she wouldn’t forgive me for that.”

I bit my tongue. As much as I wanted to throw him out for yelling at me, I was glad to see some spark in him. It made sense why he would allow Chief Ahn to get away with just about anything. The pack would kill him if he had laid a hand on the old man. However, the rest of the wolves should have been given no mercy. Again, I thought of Jimin and seethed.

I wiped my hands on my nightgown and stood. Taehyung was covered from head to toe in the salve, and already the marks were going away. It would take more than that to heal his bruised ribs. So, I went to the kitchen and looked around for a healing potion. I did not feel like making one at this hour.

“Why did you come here?” I asked, gently.

Taehyung sighed. “Because I knew you would help me.”

Again, my pity returned. While my blood boiled, my heart hurt for the alpha as well. I could imagine him hurt and abandoned, nowhere to turn to, and not being able to trust the local doctor. I found an old potion in the back of a cupboard.

“You can sleep here tonight,” I offered, handing him the potion. “Any wolf idiotic enough to poke at me is a dead man.”

Taehyung seemed at ease with this. Downing the potion, he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes.

“Thank you, Birdie,” He grinned.

I did not reply. Instead, I used my magic to bring him a few blankets and struck up the fireplace. He was weak and may not be able to regulate his body temperature as easily. It got cold in the living room at night. Seemingly satisfied with his place on my small, uncomfortable couch, Taehyung fell asleep within seconds. 

I had never seen anything like it in all my life. Stifling my laughs, I began blowing out the candles around my house, and put away all the used tubs of salve. I would need to make more soon. Exhausted and still recovering from the ceremony, I drug myself back to bed. Shiloh was waiting for me when I arrived.

“How many times do I have to tell you to take your bedrest seriously?” The barn owl nagged.

I groaned and rolled into my bed. It was warm and soft. Shiloh flapped to her nest.

“It was Taehyung,” I argued.

“I don’t care if it was Lilith herself, you better stay your-”

“Shiloh,” I warned, “Shut up.”

The bird grumbled to herself, but I was too far gone to pay attention.

I awoke to loud pounding on my front door. I could hear voices outside, none of them sounding too happy, but all I caught was the name of a pack alpha. Angry and still sore, I used magic to lift myself out of bed and threw on my robe. I saw Taehyung curled up in a ball in front of the sofa. He did not notice me until I was standing in front of the door. 

Shiloh was shouting at me to get back in bed, to let the wolves handle their own business, but I ignored her. When they decide to take their anger to my doorstep I have every right to give them a piece of my mind. Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath before forcing my arms forward.

My front door flew off its hinges and into whoever was standing behind it. Namjoon was unfazed by this and slapped the thick wood out of his way. I could see the shock in his eyes but I was not finished with my assault. I began to sing, a whirlwind of objects floating around the room. Namjoon backed away but this only pissed me off more. Shiloh shouted as a large, hot, blue flame sprouted from the palm of my hand and flew at the wolf.

“How dare you?” I shouted, everything dropped once my singing stopped. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Hoseok and Jimin stood on either side of their brother. I knew I would regret attacking them eventually, possibly the moment they left, but I would not let myself falter. No one was going to come here and intimidate me. I don’t give a damn who they are attempting to fight with. 

“Birdie-” Hoseok pled.

Ignoring him, I kept my gaze perfectly trained on Namjoon. He stared at the large, ashen spot at his feet as I stared at him. My face burned with anger and I felt another surge of magic rush through my body. A dull ache began to form in my back and I knew I was bleeding again. I had used too much magic and my body was having a hard time healing. 

“Who do you think you are to challenge him, Namjoon?” I roared, eyes burning. “Sol chose him. The Goddess chose him! Do you think you know better than Lilith now?”

Namjoon swallowed thickly before finally looking at me.

“Of course not. I-”

“You listen to me,” I sneered. “If you ever get the gull to come bang on my door again, I swear to you, I will not show you the same mercy.”

Namjoon scoffed, “Mercy? You had better watch your tone, little girl. Especially with a limp like that.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but a voice from behind me beat me to it. 

“Don’t speak to her like that,” Taehyung said.

Namjoon seemed to darken. I felt my muscles clench as I readied myself to defend the boy. No one was going to hurt him. I promised to protect the Luna with my life, Sol was my good friend, and I refused to let harm come to her mate. I was as good as dead if I had. 

“There you are,” Namjoon taunted. “Been looking everywhere for you, infans.”

Taehyung growled. I steadied my racing heart. I would have to protect him inside. Namjoon would have the advantage of leaving, and I was vulnerable to the sun’s rays if he decided to extort that. Still, I positioned my hands defensively.

Suddenly, Shiloh flew out of the house and screeched loudly. Everything happened quickly. First, Shiloh was barreling towards Namjoon and then a wolf was standing in his place. I knew it was an accident. Taehyung was only trying to protect me, however, his massive frame surged me forward. I was in the sun before I could save myself, and soon my face slammed into my front steps and the sun beamed on my back.

My skin burned immediately and I could not help the tortured screams that flew out of my mouth. Unfocused eyes trained on Shiloh saw her turn towards me before a large, russet wolf shoved her out of the way with his nose. I felt many hands on me and I was dragged back inside.

My body trembled as I screamed. Every inch of my skin was on fire and I closed my eyes only to see white. It felt like someone was tearing me apart. All around me I heard screaming and shouting.

“What the fuck do we do?” Hoseok shouted.

“I don’t know,” It sounded like Taehyung was crying.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I could not think straight. The pain was numbing. Opening my eyes again, I saw my ceiling and raised one of my shaking hands. Black feathers had pierced through the skin and I cried out once more.

“Get away from her!” Someone screamed but I could not make out who.

“Is she alright?” 

I knew something was happening a few feet away but all I could focus on was the fire in my body. I knew this would subside eventually on its own, but I had something that could help. I just needed to gather the strength to get it. I opened my mouth to speak but could only scream.

“It burns,” I managed to grunt, convulsing.

I could feel hands on me but I could not get my eyes to focus. Sleep would be impossible now and I knew my body was in the worst shape it had ever been. Between the ceremony, the small amount of magic I used, and the sun I would be out of service for an entire week at this rate. Possibly even more.

“Move,” I heard Shiloh’s voice through the rest of the nonsense going on around me.

Looking through my lashes, instead of an owl there was a beautiful woman before me. Her fiery hair glistened in the sun and looked like it was underwater. Her skin had a dim glow to it and sparkled brightly. She looked like diamonds and I reached out to touch her. The spirit had tears in her eyes, the water shining brilliantly, before she caressed my hand.

“Sanitatem,” She whispered, fingers grazing my arm.

Instantly, I felt the relief I had been begging for wash over me. Sighing in relief, I closed my eyes and curled closely to Shiloh. I felt her fingers running through my hair and felt extremely tired.

“I’m going to put you to bed,” She whispered. “Where you belong.”

When I woke, I could smell food cooking. I was in my bed, my memory faded and hard to recall, but I knew Shiloh had been in her true form. Rubbing my eyes, I thought about Taehyung and my mood darkened. I could not remember the alphas leaving. My body screamed in protest as I sat up but I pushed forward. No one was going to harm him- not while I still had air in my lungs.

Upon entering the kitchen, I had to grasp my door frame for support. The stove was lit, I could smell the applewood, and one of my large pots was on top of it. The rest of the room was clean. Far cleaner than I ever left it. Someone had mopped and swept by hand. I could smell the lemons they used on the wood. Taking a large breath, I began taking a step forward.

“You should be in bed.”

I jumped up. Whipping my head around, Jimin was sitting in my recliner across the room. Taehyung was staring at me from in front of the fireplace. Neither Hoseok nor Namjoon were there. I could not feel or smell my familiar’s presence either.

“Where’s Shiloh?” I demanded, stumbling forward and grabbing on my island. 

Taehyung stood up and came toward me quickly. 

“Please, don’t push yourself, Birdie,” He said softly.

The alpha led me to my loveseat and helped me to sit down. Jimin sat beside me and covered me with one of my spare blankets. He must have went digging around while I was asleep. Sparing a glance at my hands, all of the feathers were replaced by nasty scars. They were pale white already, like they had been there for years, but I felt sad looking at them. I could only imagine what the rest of my body looked like. Almost sensing my mood, Jimin placed his hand over mine. I looked at him.

“She stepped out for a while,” He finally replied.

I had been angry with him, I remember vividly I thought of our next conversation, but being in front of him now it had all but vanished. There was no way Park Jimin would ever be fine with what had happened. Nor would Hoseok or Namjoon. Even thinking of him I found myself more sad than anything. I could only imagine how he had felt after everything had happened. I did not think anyone could have prepared for that amount of shock. However, gazing at Taehyung, most of my sympathy stopped there. Namjoon was still trying to kill someone else over his own lack of faith. His own ego was blinding him. I just hoped he could see that before he destroyed his own life. Sol would never forgive him and neither would I. 

“Is everyone alright?” I asked.

Jimin hummed, “Everyone but you. Namjoon and I got into a fight before he left but he’ll be fine.”

I scowled at Jimin. “I don’t like the idea of you fighting.”

He grinned, “Don’t worry, amica. I won.”

“Doesn’t change my feelings.” I grumbled and looked at Taehyung.

He seemed confused. While most of his face was perfectly schooled, his eyes told a different story. As they bounced back and forth between Jimin and I, I could see confusion turn into something… other. Almost, acceptance. Strange, I thought. I did not think about it too much. My affection for Jimin was likely apparent, and stronger, than that of the other alphas. The boy was probably trying to get used to it. Then he winked at me and I looked away,

Was it possible that he had caught onto my feelings? Had I sized him up too quickly? I knew he was mischievous and care free, but I also knew he was very aware of others. When he had spoken so passionately about being what a good ruler was, I had gotten that impression as well as his own naivety. However, my troubles were quickly dismissed as I looked into Jimin’s eyes. It was impossible to stress when he was around.

“Do you mind if I stay with you both for a few days?” He asked.

My eyebrows shot up. 

“What for?” I replied.

Jimin hesitated before responding. “I found the letter that your friend sent you in your coat pocket. Your familiar asked me if I would stay.”

Confused, I frowned. What on Earth was he talking about? Racking my brain, I found myself at a loss before the lightbulb went off. 

“Wendy!” I exclaimed. 

Going to stand, Jimin gently grabbed my arm. He looked bashful and unsure of himself. I was just like the last time he had been here, only it felt different. He almost looked… afraid to tell me what he had read. My breath quickening, I pulled my arm out of his grasp.

“What did it say?” I asked, wearily. 

When I got no response, I lifted myself up and ignored the two men. I hobbled to my coat rack. However, strong arms wrapped around me before I made it a foot away from the sofa. 

“Taehyung,” I threatened. “Put me down. Now.”

“Sit,” He pleaded and walked me back over to the living space.

Frustrated and anxious, I turned my head and bit the side of his arm. The wolf yelped before letting go of my wait. I stumbled, wobbled over, before landing on my ass. 

“This is ridiculous,” I complained, slowly lifting myself up. I ignored Taehyung’s outstretched hands. “You come to my home, go through my things, and then not allow me to read my own letter? She’s my friend! If it’s important I ought to know.”

Jimin sighed, frustrated. I refused to back down and continued to stand up. Taehyung had given me some space, which I appreciated, but was close enough to catch me if I fell down again. The older alpha and I had a stare off.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Jimin spoke, “If you had more patience, I could have given it to you. It’s in my pocket.”

“If you,” I countered, limping back to the sofa, “had just said that instead of looking at me like an idiot then I couldn’t have gotten up.”

The alpha glared at me but said nothing more. Snatching the paper from his hands, I made myself comfortable in my spot. Taehyung came closer, a weary look on his face. An apology was in order but I fought with my own pride to give it. He picked me up without consent and so I bit him. End of discussion. Still, the need to tell him I was sorry was strong.

Birdie,

I’m happy to hear you are feeling better. However, I’m sure by the time this reaches you the Luna’s ceremony would have taken place and you’ll be back in bed again. I’ve always marveled at how powerful you are and yet so fragile. My mother thinks it was the way the Gods meant for it to be. You’d be far too much if you had all of your abilities and the same willpower as any other witch. In other words, goodluck and I hope you have a fast recovery.

In other news, my sister has decided to marry Seojun. I am very happy for her and I know Irene will make a good wife. It did, however, make me think of you and I. Will there ever be someone for us? Will you ever get the chance to find them even if they were out there? It’s incredibly mean for the Gods to put you under such horrible conditions. At least you are able to leave in a way Aldara never was. I do hope I can learn of your name before you pass on. I’ve known you for far too long and we’re too close for me not to. Please tell me you will.

Birdie, would you hate me if I told you I was considering staying here? My time in Northorn has opened my world to many possibilities. Then I think of you, Yoongi, and Seokjin and the thought repulses me. Oh, I love him. I love Seokjin. I want him to be with me and yet… my eyes still wander. Is that wrong? I know you understand me more than anyone else. Have you ever thought about telling him how you feel or is it too scary? Because I’m scared, Birdie. I’ve hurt him too much.

I should stay here, right? Spare both him and Yoongi the heart ache. Goddess knows I’ve put too much of a strain on their relationship already. From what I hear, they’re already back to being friends since I’ve kept away. Yes, I think I will stay here.

Please help me. Do something for me. I’m confused and unsure of myself. Irene says I’m overthinking everything, but I know you will be more honest. Sending you all of my heart- at least what is left of it.

Your dearest friend,

Wendy

Rereading the letter over again, I felt my heart sink. Shiloh must have decided to go and see her after finding out. I mentally thanked her and immediately went to fetch a pen and paper. Neither wolf tried to stop me.

It made sense now why Jimin would hesitate to talk with me about the letter. He had never, as far as I know, met Wendy. It must have been confusing to read through. I remembered her line about me understanding her and my stomach sank. That must have been a strange thing to read about, too. I cursed under my breath before I began to write.

Wendy, my darling,

I am fine. There is a lot happening in Bangtan at the moment, most of which I hardly understand, and it has taken its toll on me. Between the ceremony and now I haven’t one moment of peace. I do hope you can help me relax once you return. I know you will. 

Forget about those two fools and remember why you have stayed here all this time: your mother, the sisterhood, your coven, and the forest. Whoelse can tame a magindara like you? No one. Who can purify the sea and sing with the shore like you? No one. Do not let petty, childish things stop you from enjoying your life. You will always have me and I will forever be there. I’m happy for Irene! Her engagement is splendid news and I wish I could be there with her. 

However, Lilith has chosen a different path for me just as she has chosen one for you. I am frightened, Wendy. Everyday I am scared of what it will bring, but I do not let that stop me from enjoying the sunshine. I love the flowers, the trees, and the winds that ripple through them. Aldara used to tell me, “Fear reminds us that we’re alive, and without it many would surely be dead.” So, don’t kill yourself off just yet, darling. Keep swimming and come home. Talk to Jin and he will understand. Yoongi has no ill will toward either one of you. Let go of your fantasies and stay rooted in the reality of your heart.

You were meant to be with the most stubborn, loud, obnoxious, lovely, kind-hearted man in all of Lustra. You and I both know that, and have known that, for a long time. So go for it. Even if I am afraid, you do not have to be. See you soon.

Missing you greatly,

Birdie (I’ll tell you someday. I promise.)

My body was beginning to loosen and the pain was becoming bearable. Satisfied with my response, I waved it in the air to make it dry faster as I rummaged through my drawers for an envelope. I could only hope I could muster the strength to send it off. If Shiloh were hare, she would have went off herself or asked one of the boys, but I was on my own now. Alone and in desperate need to get this damn letter to Wendy. Shuffling to my ceremonial bag laying by the front door, I sifted through it until I found my Meteor Powder. 

I knew I was taking a risk with this sort of thing, but I had to be willing to risk it if it meant I could change Wendy’s mind. I was already hours behind. Without a second more to lose, I gathered up a piece of parchment and a pen to begin drawing. Remembering Wendy’s face was simple enough, years of drawing and perfecting using the powder making it almost easy to do, but I still felt uneasy. My heart would not rest until I received word back or the sea witch showed up at my door.

Praying that I got every soft feature right, I contemplated adding color but quickly dismissed the idea. It would not really make any difference and I was not sure if her hair was dark or light anymore. Wendy often went through fazes with that sort of thing. Laying the paper on the floor, I said her name for good measure, and threw the powder on top of it. Less than a second later, the paper was gone and I sighed. 

“Hope she got it,” I mumbled to myself.

It was Taehyung who broke my trance.

“That was so cool!” He exclaimed.

I chuckled, “Not as cool as my own magic, but it’ll have to do. I can hardly feel anything in my body.”

Walking back to the couch, I curled up beside Jimin. He looked worried again and I realized I had messed up. Admitting that I was weak and tired would only make him drag me back to bed. Readily myself for another spat, I squared my shoulders and looked at him.

“She seemed upset,” He said instead. “I had not realized your friends were involved in that way.”

I hid my surprise well. It did make sense for Jimin to worry about others, I had just never imagined he would take my friend’s hardships so seriously. Grinning, I nodded.

“It’s been a thing since we were children. Don’t worry too much, she will come back and they will be together.”

“Why aren’t they now?” It was Taehung who asked.

“Because,” I sighed, “they’re both far too stubborn.”

Taehyung was a nice company to have around. He took good care of his things, cleaned up after himself, and was useful. I had stopped sending supplies to Foxglove, something that neither Taehyung or Jimin agreed with, but it did not change my mind. They did not deserve my help if this is what they were going to do with it. No one had come to collect anything either, so I assumed they were boycotting my services indefinitely. 

Wendy had written to me the following morning confirming she was coming back. She had even written to Seokjin. While I did not know what she had said I could take a few guesses. It was only a matter of time before Seokjin told me all about it. He was the worst at keeping secrets. 

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and stared at my altar. My magic had come back a few days ago and I had been allowing it to rest. Today was the first time I had performed a ritual spell in days. Looking over my shoulder, I smiled gently at Jimin napping on my sofa.

He had not left since he arrived. While we had not spoken much since that night, he was doing his best to help Taehyung make a plan to win over the town. While I thought it was foolish to think he could do such a thing without a fight, I believed in them enough to support it. Jimin was a loved person and having him on Taehyung’s side greatly increased his odds. I knew the pack was feeling his absence.

“What’s a cah-dee-jo?” Taehyung asked, obnoxiously loud.

“A cadejo-” I corrected, rolling my eyes, “-are spirits that help worthy travelers find their way.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And if they’re not worthy?”

“They’ll eat them,” I replied easily.

The alpha had been interested in my books after finding something I had written about the magindara when I was a kid. He was going through them so quickly, I was having to go to the cellar to get new material for him. As naive as he was, Kim Taehyung was a bright young man with a vivid imagination. He always asked questions, never settled for one answer, and listened carefully. 

“Why?” He asked.

“Why not?”

He said nothing after that and went back to reading. I had started growing fonder of the man and hoped he was able to go back home. When he spoke of his siblings his eyes lit up and it broke my heart. His parents must be worried sick. 

Having spent most of my morning sitting, I decided to make lunch. I was expecting Shiloh to be back later today. Wendy said my familiar had gotten to her inn just before she sent off her letter, so I knew the owl was safe. Thinking about her I grew emotional. Exposing her spirit form was extremely dangerous, a risk I would never have asked her to take, and she had done it regardless. 

Going to my kitchen window, I whistled loudly and began pulling out a pot and pan. Tomato soup sounded lovely and I could always make a quick loaf of bread. A few minutes later, Delinah was at my window. Looking up from the onion I was dicing, I grinning at the deer.

“Morning, Dee,” I greeted.

She bowed her head. “Glad to see you moving around. You gave us all a fright.”

I hummed, scooping the onions and throwing them into the pot along with three whole heads of garlic, some fresh herbs, and oil. In the corner of my eye I saw Jimin beginning to stir on the sofa. 

“I’m good as new,” I joked, using a spell to light my stove. “Would you mind fetching some tomatoes from Seokjin’s garden? I’d ask Shiloh but she’s out of the forest for the time being.”

“Where’d she head off to?” Delinah asked, pulling the cloth tote I kept on the windowsill into her mouth.

“Northorn,” I replied.

“Northorn? What’s so important in that miserable place?”

I laughed, placing my knife down to help my friend get the tote around her neck. Delinah nuzzled my hands. Giving her a quick pat on the head, I promised her carrots when she got back.

“And to answer your question,” I walked back to the counter. “Wendy is attempting to run away so she’s bringing her back.”

She laughed, “Oh, that Wendy. You never know what you’re going to get with that one.”

“But we love her.”

Jimin was up and walking around right after Delinah left. Taehyung was still head-first in my magical beasts book. I took over my try of onions and garlic and let them begin roasting over the open flame of the stove. The tomatoes would not take long to char. I could hear the two men talking quietly but decided to play them no mind. It was hard to have privacy in this house as it was.

Delinah was back quickly and I sent her off with a bundle of carrots. After roasting the tomatoes, I used my pestle and mortar to blend everything together. Working in small batches, I took my time to be sure everything was smooth before throwing it into the pot I had taken out. 

“Birdie,” Taehyung called out. “Can I get your opinion on something?”

I nodded, “Ask away.”

“I want to write a letter to Namjoon but I’m not sure how he’d take that.”

I paused for a moment to think. While it might be a wise idea to test the waters with a note of some kind, I was also not foolish enough to think he would be able to deliver something to the village at this time. People were looking for him and to show his face might lead to more speculation. However, he had to do something before the elders made a decision as to what to do with him. Namjoon had officially challenged him and only revoking that, which would terminate the fight, would be his best option. I had full faith in Taehyung’s ability to defend himself if he truly wanted, but his personality would make it hard for him to commit to a brawl. Namjoon would win just from his determination alone. 

“I don’t think that would help much,” I admitted. “Everyone is committed to seeing you fight at this point, and your runaway stunt has them more on guard. I would seriously begin considering a fight, Taehyung. It’s your only option right now.”

I heard his sigh of defeat and felt saddened. I empathize with the alpha’s situation. I knew it would be a hard thing for him to do. In my younger years, Aldara enjoyed teaching me defensive magic but I could never strike her back. It was not until that night I truly saw what I could be capable of if left to my own devices. I shuddered at the thought. I would not wish that on anybody- especially Kim Taehyung. Mixing the soup, I spoke.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

“Me too,” He replied.

The three of us ate our lunch in silence. Jimin had been more quiet than usual and I knew his brain was on overdrive. He had also been away from his family, his pack, and his home for three days without an end in sight. I knew how hard the silence could be and even then I had been quieter. Still, it must be hard on him. It was a wolf’s nature to be with his family. 

Taehyung did not ask anything after that. The rest of the day, he sat on the floor near the fireplace and read book after book while Jimin looked out of the windows. They never went outside. I managed to do a few chores, practiced some new spells, and wrote in my grimoire, but nothing else had sparked an interest in me. The tension in the house was suffocating. It was not until Shiloh returned at sunset that the house stirred.

In a whirlwind, the barn owl flew through my bedroom window, her loud voice bouncing off the walls. Carelessly I threw my pen down onto my grimoire. Black ink smeared into the pages ruining all of my hard work, but I did not care. She was back and I could breathe a bit easier then. I knew Shiloh would have an answer. She always knew what to do.

“Between those wolves and you witches,” She complained, “I’ll never, ever catch a break.”

“Oh, Shiloh,” I cooed, opening my arms to her.

My familiar raced into my waiting embrace and let herself be babied. I pet her head and smoothed her feathers down gently. The owl leaned into my touches with joy. I could not remember the last time I had smiled so widely since she had gone.

“You’re so strong and mighty, little one. I missed you dearly.”

She laughed, “I’m so happy to see you up and walking around.”

“Where’s Wendy?” I asked, letting her go.

Shiloh flew into the kitchen and I followed behind her. She must be exhausted after the long journey. She pecked at the bread from lunch and made note of the wolves in the living room.

“She’ll be back after her sister’s wedding.”

“Oh, wonderful!” I clapped my hands together in delight. 

“Another pain in my ass,” She mumbled.

And I laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

It was always an adjustment when you first transform, I found. Even after all this time I was slightly disoriented after the whole ordeal. The first night Taehyung had been here, he had almost broken my bedroom door down trying to see if I was alright. If Jimin had not reassured him, I was sure he would have been traumatized by the scene. It was the fourth night now, and Taehyung slept peacefully through my screams. Shiloh had gone to bed extra early. Jimin was the only person still awake when I flew through the kitchen window.

He was still dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing for days. I hand washed everything twice, but he insisted on keeping them. I had made clothes for Taehyung and was a bit upset at Jimin’s rejection. However, I never brought it up again. I simply washed them and used magic to get them dry. 

Tonight, however, he had taken off the long cape he usually wore. His socks and shoes were also somewhere else, and I noticed his belt was also missing. He wore his hair down, the silver strands sitting at his waist, and I saw a simple headband keeping his bangs out of his eyes. He was sitting at the kitchen island staring at whatever he had been writing. I decided to go to him.

“Hello,” He offered, a smile that did not meet his eyes thrown my way.

He looked tired, more so than usual, and worn. Taehyung snored loudly on the floor and rolled over. Jimin did not bat an eyelash and continued looking at the papers. I hopped closer and twisted my head to look at them. The alpha did not try to stop me.

B.

They turn into paste if you mash them. By hand, they keep their nectar, and the flavor is much better.

When they’re whole you need to wait much longer for the flavor to seep through.

No, but it is one that is very dear to me.

I realized it was the paper I had used when I had visited him a few weeks ago. I felt myself growing emotional. He had kept it… something so inconsequential and yet he had kept it. Apparently, he even walked around with it. My heart grew fonder with every encounter we shared, and I found I could not breathe properly.

“It brings me comfort,” Jimin whispered. “Knowing that you’re out there.”

Turning to look at him, I found him crying. The moonlight illuminated his delicate face and the tears that ran down his cheeks. For the first time since I have known Jimin, I felt sure of myself. Drawing near, I gently flapped my wings and landed in his lap. Clicking, I rubbed my face on his stomach and allowed the warmth within me to shine. He had kept it. 

Jimin grabbed me and held me tightly as he wept. What his sorrows were for, I was not sure, but I had to guess it was something to do with this situation. Whatever the case may be, I melted into his touch. He was always so open with me like this. I wished he would hold me tightly as a woman, too. I knew I was beginning to grow greedy but did not care anymore. He had kept that stupid piece of parchment and I was completely done attempting to care about customs. I loved him more than anything else.

“I don’t know what to do,” He whimpered. “I couldn’t live with either of them dying.”

And as mad as I was at Namjoon, as badly as I wanted to throw him against a wall and scream in his face for being such a pig-headed nitwit, I could not say I wanted him dead. We were friends after all. Even after our spat the other morning I could call him that freely. I knew something had to give sooner or later. It killed me to see Jimin torn up.

The alpha only allowed himself two minutes to cry. After that, he apologized to me profusely before gently setting me back down on the island. Wiping his face aggressively, he excused himself before leaving the cottage entirely. I wanted to go after him but thought he might need the space and time to think. Looking down at the paper at my feet, I felt something shift inside of me.

So what if a letter is offensive? They beat Taehyung to a bloody pulp, exiled him, and made his friend think he needed to challenge him in order to keep the pack in order. If a simple letter would be the thing to set them off then I would happily be the bad guy. Knowing that I was more than likely making an awful choice, that the chances of someone else getting their hands on Namjoon’s letter were high, I still had to try. I would never see Jimin cry like that again. My mind made up, I gathered up some paper and an ink jar and began to write.

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