#they all hate the bit about the witch ALL MY HOMIES HATE THE BIT ABOUT THE WITCH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mansionofmuses · 4 years ago

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Alright fuck it I figured it's time to put my nuts in the ring when it comes to writing up rwde reviews about shiddy writing.

I already made a post about how closure doesn't exist in rwby, so that SHOULD trim this a bit. Hopefully.

These last two of seasons of rwby have been ASS and idk even know where to start. So lemme do some character progressions instead of jumping all over the place. Let's start with my fav: Neo. And I'll be as unbiased as possible.

Starting from v6, she came back and teamed up with Cinder. Cool? Cool. Fair enough. V7 onwards she's been treated like a BITCH by Cinder and has visibly shown her disdain for that on screen. And yet she still chooses to hang with her? Why? Like... Genuinely why? Is Neo not like the stealth queen? And the driver of a thousand vehicles? Why does she even need Cinder? Could she not have just jacked an airship herself, flown to Atlas after getting the info from Cinder, and began her hunt there? Instead she's just some minion to her now? Okay fine so let's say their team up makes sense in some odd world. Why the fuck would Neo agree to go to Cinder in the Satan Whale? Why? Why the fuck is she there? After being denied multiple times to get to Ruby and even being treated like shit with visible disdain, she should have absolutely left with a middle finger to Cinder. But nope. We get to see her be visibly uncomfortable in this cult and clearly wants out. Which she does, so good shit. She snatches the lamp and heads out. Fair enough, I guess? I don't know why the fuck she trusts Cinder to go back to her after being treated like shit. After Cinder's doodoo attitude towards her, Neo should be like "wow maybe she's lying to me about roman lemme check with this genie bitch" but no. And don't say "oh well she can't talk so jinn wouldn't be able to answer her." Fuck that. 1. I should hope that the password wouldn't be so ableist against mute people. 2. Neo's resourceful as hell. Text to speech and boom. There ya go. Instead she goes back to Cinder like a lost puppy after being shown multiple times how much she hates her. Why the fuck does she need Cinder to get to Ruby? I have no fucking idea! And then everyone's favorite scene. I know I know she killed Blake's hip atta-- I mean character devel-- I mean Yang. That scene. Was doodoo. And I'll get into more intricacies about it much later. But for now, why the hell was Neo so sloppy in that assassination? Like gurl you revealed yourself so early from, apparently so far away? Pretend to be a passerby with everything disguised (I saw that lamp) impale her and boom. Done. Not sure why she went for a slash either when a thrusting weapons like that would be best for a quicker impale. It would have made any on screen death so much more confirmed instead of up in the air bullshit.

Next we have Ironwood. Oh James. How far you've fallen. I don't really understand what the hell they're doing with this character any more. Like... At all. I fully expect him to turn into the joker and join salem at this point lmfao. At first he was complex, but cool, right? Ok a stern leader who still wants to help people and see team rwby in beacon grow and be successful. Fair enough. Then came v4 and he was like "hey yang. Heard about the arm. Here ya go homie." That was pretty cool to give to a young veteran. Fair enough. But good god once v7 hit, everything just went haywire. He started making the dumbest decisions. Kind of. I understand how he's like "aite let's sack mantle to ensure atlas lives cause otherwise both parties will be dead." except idk why he didn't just make a plan to evacuate everyone to mantle first but whatever. I mean team rwby did it like... In a day? Shouldn't have been hard. Then he started losing his fucking mind. There was an entire thing about trust issues and plans (ngl I didn't care enough to pay much attention) and he ends up wanting to arrest the kids more than actually stopping Salem. Like homie. Why. You have a gang of strong ass hunters on your side, don't just throw that away. They could say "acab fuck the police anarchy reigns" and you should still keep them just to fight literal satan on your doorstep. But he fucking drops everything and resources and materials on arresting them. Like why???? And then he just shoots a child just because? And he goes around full fascist mode and his character is just gone at that point. He literally actively wants to kill the people of Mantle now instead of stopping Salem and I don't fucking get it. He could literally plot with salem about how to nuke mantle and I'd be like "shoulda seen it coming". And then when he gets outta jail he kills Jacques... Just cause? Like why? I understand Jacques let Salem's forces in and eventually led to this shit show, but like... Atlas was falling. Just leave. I don't understand. But I guess it's to show how hateful he is towards those who oppose him, so whatever. Idk I'm so done with him. This man is just so boring I just can't wait for him to get killed off so we can be done with him. I'm sure I missed a fuckload of intricacies about Ironwood but I really don't care at all about this schmuck.

Next on the shitlist is the entirety of team rwby. Just to compact it all into one. Ruby has been getting on my nerves SO much. She is so holier than thou and always right. If she had just openly talked with Ironwood about all these secrets and shit, none of this would be happening. Yeah there would be panic, but homie what's the alternative? Fight in secrecy against the police and Salem?

"hey Ruby I noticed that lamp you keep hanging around. What is that?"

"oh uhhhh definitely not a grimm magnet HAHAHAHAH"

Like no shit everyone's gonna be pissed when you lie to them and keep these secrets. Also these plans are dogshit. "We gotta get a message out." To who??? The rest of the world is gonna see some lil kid be like "hey Ironwood's gone crazy and some evil witch bitch is here tryna kill us all." Like who are they gonna believe? A random girl or the fact that ironwood is the head of the largest military state in the world? For all they know it's just some prank and it's totally unbelievable.

Team RWBY sippin team for v8 and doing nothing all volume? Nice. "But they needed to protect Nora." You mean to tell me Ruby, May, Blake, and Weiss all had to be there to protect someone. The Grimm attacked once and that was it. You guys have no medical history. At all. All you did was wrap her up and drink tea during the volume where there's a literal war happening outside. You don't just "wait for help" you ARE THE HELP you're hunters you fucks! Go out and get shit done. Have like one person stay behind just in case shit goes wrong. Preferably Weiss so she can have those meaningful conversations with her family members she never fucking had. But whatever. Ruby and Yang get into... A fight? That lasts for five seconds when they leave and then when they see each other again it just doesn't matter so I'm not sure why the fuck it was brought up at all. It had no impact whatsoever. And there's a ton more I'm sure I'm just burning out at this point. But let's just talk about the big shit. Yang's death. Everyone's saying she'll come back because plot armor but I'm in the "I genuinely think she's dead" group. She turned to Dust as she fell. I mean who knows maybe Deus Ex machina rears it's convenient head. I hate hate hate how that scene was done. That was such an unbelievable death. Weiss, Ruby, and even Blake all have ways of catching her. Easily. Weiss has like fifty ways of catching someone between summons and semblance. Ruby can teleport around the world. And Blake can just shadow clone jutsu her way there but WHATEVER. I guess everyone was too busy being nerfed and sucking ass. Again. And the reactions? Dog shit. Even when she sacrifices herself for Ruby, it's still all about the bees. It's so genuinely annoying. Ruby just whispers her sisters name and that's pretty much it aside from a >:( face here and there. Weiss doesn't even grieve she just comforts Blake who's losing her shit. And I don't know why Weiss doesn't grieve cause SHE WAS HER HOMIE TOO LIKE C'MON RT LET'S SEE SOME UGLY SOBBING DAMN so now everyone's gone feral (except Weiss who just doesn't give a shit about Yang apparently.) And despite Blake saying "yo let's not kill people aite Yang?" She's gonna say fuck that and have it out for Neo and Cinder out of revenge. Alright I guess. That's fair honestly. Challenging ones own morals based on emotions. Good enough. But god I just wished we could see more from Ruby and Weiss during that. Also I'm so sick of the "oh this character fell are they dead are they not?" Thing that rt keeps doing. Just have Neo impale her and go. Easy as that. On screen confirmation. I'm sure team RWBY has a fuckload more to crit but I'm done with this topic.

Winter. Bootlicking to the extreme that she casts aside her own sister and doesn't care if her friends die. Nice. No closure at all after she turns back to being a good guy I guess. I'm done with her. Not a whole lot to say.

The aceops are just so dumb. I'm done with them. Everytime they talk about genocide for the good of atlas I'm just rolling my eyes. Just say you're fascists and move on. And idk why the fuck harriet is gonna bomb an empty mantle. Atlas is already falling on it, you literally have no reason to do this. And this plot point is stupid as hell. Next.

Cinder. I'm not sure why they decided to randomly drop her background story into the mix. Like I don't think anyone gives a shit after all the crap she's done. I'm so sick of rt trying to make her some "uwu woe is me" woobie after doing so much shit and killing so many people. Her uwu crying moments are just stupid. Honestly watts is one of my fav characters just for telling her how crappy she is. Next

Hazel. Homie is dumb as hell. He hates Ozpin because his sister died in a mission. Fair enough. Why the fuck would you ever join Grimm Hitler when Grimm are what killed her in the first place??? Like??? Just hate him on your own time dude, jesus. And he is consistently hypocritical and it's so stupidly funny how bad this character is.

"HOW MANY MORE CHILDREN WILL YOU HURT OZPIN" as he beats the piss outta Nora, Ren, RWBY, Oscar, and probably some random five year old on the street while shouting OZPIIIIN to the skies. It also didn't take a whole lot to convince him how stupid he was thank god. His character was so cool in design and in theory but good god he got executed soooo fucking poorly. Kinda glad he's dead just so we don't have to deal with his stupidity. Next.

Emerald. This bitch. I can't. I LOVE how easily rwby just forgave her. It was so stupidly funny. "oh but yang was ready to fight her at first and snatched her weapons" yeah for five fucking minutes. Then came the part where she helped stabilize Penny and gave a half assed speech about switching sides. Meanwhile everyone's just magically forgiving of her like OH THAT EMERALD AHAHAH like she didn't help orchestrate the fall of Beacon, the death of many, including Penny, and all the terrible shit that's gone down. No resentment from RWBY except for my favorite line delivered this volume. It was Weiss's ever so beautiful "SHUT UP" LOL (I play Smite and I love how her VVGQ Quiet voice line sounds the same. So when I heard this line, I thought of Smite and immediately laughed. Kudos to you Weiss.)

Salem. The hound attacked Penny in the mansion... Why? You already established connection with Watts in jail. Did he not tell her "ay she cool with us." And in turn did she not tell him "ay she cool with us don't hit her"? I guess not? Cause the hound and penny shoulda bounced together the second they met up lmao. Other than that, salem's done nothing this volume except try to be scary and get her ass beat by hazel. She could easily just go out in the field with her grimm and blasts some people or SOMETHING GOD so far our main villain is just so boring and unimposing that literally every other villain, including her subordinates, feel more like threats than her.

Now I'll just talk about scenes.

The scene with ambrosius was COATED IN CONVENIENCE. Apparently Ozpin didn't tell the gang about the WinMore button they could just fucking walk to until now because??? Idk. I LOVE how team rwby just assumed that penny would be okay when they took her robot parts out. Realistically she should just be a floating husk of aura and nothingness. Like she never had organs. I don't understand how she's a real person now? Which, by the way, I'm pretty fucking insulted about how they handled that. Why make Penny human? She was already a real girl and accepted by her loved ones. Like shit, she was a character that a LOT of transgirls, myself included, could relate to on a personal level and we LOVED how Ruby handled it in v2. It was cute! It was sweet! She said she was a real girl back then and it made all of our collective kokoros go doki doki. Fun stuff!

But now? It feels like none of that was validated until she got an actual human body. Like damn I wish I could just get my ideal body within seconds. Shit. I've seen and heard a lot of upset from my fellow tgirls about how doodoo that scene was, because it's implying penny wasn't a real girl until after she got her human body and that's probably how most of the rwby fandom is gonna see it too. "oh wow penny's a real girl now!" And just forget Ruby's cute speech in v2. So annoying. Minor nitpick, if she's got the aura of a black man inside of her (her father), and her robot body is gone, why the fuck isn't she black? Like? Idk minor nitpick I guess. But anyways back to ambrosius scene. I love how rwby had the answers for everything within the hours worth of planning they were given by Ironwood's motive. Totes believable. And yet the "one way ticket to vacuo" thing was the simplest shit they could have avoided lmfao. Like THAT is what you trip up on? Not the portals you're trying to make or the assumption that penny lives without her robot parts? Insane. (side note: how did oscar have a flashback to that scene if he wasn't even there?)

And now everyone's favorite scene. Yangs death. Already covered it early I just wanted to add more on. This scene is insane. Like... If they actually go through with killing her (i don't see how she could have survived turning into dust) then roosterteeth is dumber than I gave them credit for. Like... They have to realize the shitstorm they're gonna receive right? First they kill off clover, an lgbt+ coded character. Next is Yang? A main character who is WIDELY loved by all. Apart of their most pandered ship in existence: bees. (Both the ship and the character make them so much money in merch btw so this was stupid from an objective standpoint.) You can't just kill a main character that is heavily lgbt+ coded in THE most popular ship in the show. Like... How dumb can they be? They're gonna lose so many fans at the very least. Sales? Down. Death threats? Way up. It would be astonishing if they weren't up to their necks in shit in backlash by that decision. Bury Your Gays trope strikes again folks. But this time with everyone's favorite! Like I just... Idk that decision was stupid and that scene hardly was given any real pomp or circumstance it deserved. She's a major title character and that scene lasted like a minute lmao. It's gonna be RWBY without the Y. RWB. As in rt is a bunch of rubes for making that decision. A cynical part of me thinks they did that just because they want an excuse to off Neo, another really loved character. (Well if everyone hates her now we can kill her off cause god knows we don't know what to do with her), but I'm not gonna make this about her. I honestly don't know how to feel about this death tbh. On one hand it's shitty and *points to essay above*. On another it lets Blake be her own character for once. We get to see who she is on our own. And we can finally shift gears from The Bees Show featuring Some Plot to RWBY without the Y. But again that scene was done horribly with doodoo writing already explained up above. They're gonna use this as some edgy excuse to have the heroes start killing again or grieve or whatever bullshit shock value.

(now that I think of it tho, Neo shoulda killed yang in v2. How the fuck did Raven know she was finna die again. Lmao)

Anyways, that's my two cents. I'm sure there's so much more I forgot. Love or hate my ramble idc these are just my thoughts. I'm sure I made doodoo arguments at some points so feel free to call me an idiot and point them out. Imma bounce. My fingers fucking hurt lmfao

#rwde #rwby spoilers

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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... Of the Destiny and the Stars (Geralt x reader, Part 5.1)

CHAPTER STATUS: REVISITED AND REVISIONED - While revisioning and going through it, I realized the scenes I'd like to fit in are much longer than anticipated, so I decided to split the part in two.

Description: Geralt of Rivia, also known as the infamous Butcher of Blaviken or the White Wolf, was traveling the Continent along with idiotic, yet humble and kind bard Jaskier, settling in a small town near the free city of Novigrad. That was when Geralt bumped into an old friend of his - and realized that all the wrongdoings he had committed in the past would eventually return to him.

Summary: The only thing everyone on the Continent wholeheartedly agreed on was that... Destiny was a bitch. You knew it, Geralt knew it and even Yennefer was aware. And even through realizing all of this, Geralt was willing to take the risk of defying it, as well as the horrible consequences coming to him, just so you'd stay by his side. While discovering and deepening your bond, you have a few interesting discoveries about yourself.

Warnings:

➡ Our homie queen Calanthé is making a guest appearance along with her beloved husband Eist. Triss, Philippa, Radovid, and Foltest are name-dropped and Djistra and his handsome face are here. Radovid's character is inspired by the games, however; it's not Jaskier's love interest from the show, but the insane kind of Redania (the timeline's fucked anyway lmao). ➡ Mentions of in-world politics, famine, death, mature themes, and dying children (due to pneumonia). ➡ Mentions of sexual acts and practices, mature language. ➡ A lot of fluff for our favorite grumpy old man (hate to break it to you, but Geralt is like... 80 years old). 🩵 ➡ Jaskier and the reader hit it off, in a sense, a subtle reference to the relationship between Geralt and Jaskier (wink, wink, we stan a bi-con). ➡ We are also having a little bisexual and poly situation rocking up - so if you're not into this, just don't read this. ➡ I'll be alluding to a lighter form of philophobia, aka the fear of love.

A/N: Jaskier's song is 100% Sriracha by Bbno$ and no one is changing my mind on that.

Announcement regarding the timeline:

This isn't your regular story chapter - it's more of a collection of events and memories that unravel through the years. It would be wiser to split it up so it would make sense, but then, I wouldn't have enough content to create interesting story chapters. I pushed through and created two chapters (30-40K words in total) that cover this time period. Sadly, I don't even know when the part takes place because everything is so difficult to map out with the show completely altering the canon. I mean, the books already made it difficult but now, it's fucking impossible, and since the story is a combination of both the book events and show events, as well as a combination of all the characters' traits from both, I just said 'fuck it' and balled. It's sometime before Nilfgaardians attack the kingdom of Sodden and Cintra and Cirilla are still under Calanthé's protection, but Geralt and Yennefer have already fallen in love and she also already left him behind in 'The Shard of Ice'. I'd say it's a bit before the shenanigans in Cintra go down - pinpointing it in the horizon of Cirilla's age, it should be happening when she's around 5 - 11 years of age?

I'm so confused, man, Lauren singlehandedly short-circuited and fried my fucking brain.

Word count: 16K

Tagging: @soleil-dor, @axk111, @nemesisplayboy, @american-duchess

Master list: H E R E | The Witcher playlist: H E R E

The witch's house in the middle of nowhere - the lonely fairytale-like log cabin smelling of mint, honey, and jasmine occupied by a lonely, nice 'witch', according to the folk. She wasn't remotely close to being one, but who was to argue? The door to her modest home was kept three inches open under any circumstance. Didn't really matter who wandered inside, the witch always made sure to give them the utmost warm welcome. Sometimes, wandering travelers, bards, or adventurers knocked on the ajar door, asking for a place to stay, a glass of wine, and a warm dish in exchange for a few stories or items unattainable on the outskirts of Novigrad. Other times, the good folk of nearby villages asked for her advice and medical attention. Once in a blue moon, even one of the most infamous bards known under the name Jaskier stood on her doorstep. The one she was expecting, however, made sure to always come back.

He dear wasn't no ordinary man, oh no. It was a man surrounded by mythical tales and rumors. He'd been known under many names throughout his existence - The White Wolf, Butcher of Blaviken, Gwynbleidd, or the White One.

For you and with you, he was simply Geralt. He had stumbled upon your cabin many times, searching for it in times of loneliness and need. After a bit, you couldn't even call these instances coincidences anymore. It wasn't the Stars bringing you together, it wasn't Destiny threading his path and leading his steps... Geralt was coming back on his own accord, based on his own decisions. Each time you'd hear the familiar gait grazing the dirt road leading to your doorstep, you'd put everything down just to peek out of the window to ensure you're not making things up. Each time you'd see the white-haired man, your body would become uncontrollable as your brain blanked and heart fluttered and before you knew it, you took off to run to Geralt with the brightest smile decorating your face. The moment he'd return the smile (not even attempting to contain the contagious joy and happiness you provided), you'd ensure to erase it with a kiss, taking his belongings off his hands and tugging him inside the cabin the fastest you could. Geralt would never oppose your actions, he'd never object because he was longing for the same emotion you were. Your enthusiasm often tended to ease his own mood, mainly when he stopped after dealing with Dijsktra or goofing up a contract. Your giggling was heavenly to his ears, the sound of your laughter didn't once fail to fill his chest with serenity and warmth. The more Geralt made you laugh, the better he felt.

At the start of your affair, you found it difficult to keep your hands to yourselves - usually, neither of you remained clothed for too long. Only when you sat in your bed intertwined, body and skin pressed against each other as you whispered sweet nothings and stole hasty kisses, was the moment Geralt truly came home. It wasn't so much about the sex itself (not that either of you could complain about the quality of it) - it was the vulnerability and closeness this simple act provided. That did it for the Witcher. In those moments, Geralt not only felt human, happy, and enamored, he finally felt... Home. In those moments, Geralt didn't have to use his words or actions to let you look under the wraps and guess how he felt, there were no social cues he'd have to honor or dull and tedious social dances he'd have to be a part of. It was as simple as holding you in his arms, listening to your fluttering heart, and feeling the gentle tremor on your fingers. You'd giggle breathlessly before kidding him, letting all his thoughts disappear.

No matter how selfish the situation was, Geralt was unwilling to deprive himself of these moments. This led the duo to prolong his stay in Novigrad for longer than anticipated. Jaskier surely wouldn't be caught complaining about staying in the city (as he said - beer, breasts, and banquets) and because it was painfully obvious why are they staying for so long, the bard didn't even have to pry why is Geralt (of all people) willing to stay in the city even though he passionately hated people and their problems concentrated in one place. If Jaskier would have to describe Geralt's stance on big cities, he'd simply say Geralt's one of those who ~is aligned to be one with nature~ and all that other crap.

The first time Geralt would come back to your cabin was a week after everything went down - a few weeks ago, you'd reconnected after 20 long years, spent a whole night saving a striga, he'd apologized for his behavior way back in Cintra and fucked you senseless right after. On his way to your cabin that night, Geralt got worried - what if it'd be awkward? What if the two of you would have trouble starting a conversation? What if... The anxiety disappeared when Geralt saw you doing your laundry in the booking right beside your cabin - dressed in a simple outfit, you were doing your best to carefully wash some linen shirts. When satisfied with the result, you immediately hang the wet clothes over your humble garden filled with herbs and homegrown vegetables. It took Geralt a moment to gather his shit back together and to continue on his way, prompting Roach to ride into your field of vision - taking a moment to watch you performing simple daily chores and mundane activities made it so easy to imagine how things could be.

The two of you would probably grow up alongside one another, brought up in the same village, never leaving outside the boundaries of your region or exploring the Continent. Your universes would be incredibly smaller and emptier, but also much easier to navigate and orient in. He'd fall in love you desperately and court you until your father would agree with your marriage. To ensure you'd be happy, Geralt would find himself a stable, good job - lumberjacking seemed to allure Geralt the most. You'd have the freedom to do as you'd please; you could be a seemstress or a herbalist, anything you'd seem fit. He wouldn't mind. If anything, it would make him sure in his shoes, having a smart and independent woman by his side. The two of you wouldn't be rich, but you wouldn't be in need either; you'd have just enough to live a fulfilling life. In his dreams, you'd lead a simple life away from the big cities, but settle down in one's vicinity - it would be convenient for commuting to the city to buy supplies and food. That way, Geralt wouldn't have to deal with solving people's problems while reaping the benefits cities brought.

Each time Geralt would come home from the woods, he'd most likely come to this view - you'd be doing the laundry, cleaning the house, organizing your herbs, talk to your friend who'd come over for a visit or taking care of your humble livestock. For some reason, Geralt liked to imagine you'd be fond of owning a goat or perhaps a few hens. After taking care of the essentials, you'd sit in front of the fireplace, resting after a long laborious day. Watching you knit for a bit, his ankle would bump to yours, smoothing its way up your calf as you'd send him one of those lusty, sensual smiles. Over time, it wouldn't be only you waiting for him back home - in one of his recent dreams, there were downright three little, restless devils. First and oldest, there was a girl; her facial features were identical to yours, but her face was framed with locks of brown hair, which she'd get after him. This alone would surely make her the prettiest girl in the village, so the two of you would have to fend off endless courting attempts until the right time and person comes. The other two kids in his dreams were boys, too rowdy to be held in one place, a bit mischievous yet surely growing out to be good men overall. Your home would be filled with everything that comes with building a family - there would be laughter, tears, screaming, long lectures about important life lessons, loving embraces, goodnight kisses, torn clothes, and bumped knees.This is how things could be... If you weren't what you've turned out to be.

Starting with your high age (even though the infused chaos slowed your aging down considerably), to your consistent volatility and a considerable amount of promiscuity (even taking into account Geralt's 'It's complicated with Yenna'), ending with the shared factor of infertility, this simple life was unachievable. Those dreams were never to be fulfilled, but beautiful nonetheless. Watching you doing the chores, however, was making it a bit more believable if Geralt had to be honest. He was sure that in due time, he'd let you take a look at the dreams - after being by your side for only a week, however, Geralt concluded it wouldn't be the wisest to spill the beans. The anxiety of being sent away or the meeting being awkward left him as soon as you stood up, furrowing in the distance to determine who the newcomer was. The moment you waved at him, Geralt knew everything would be alright. The two of you would figure things out together.

After the first night he'd returned, Geralt started seeking your presence every two to three days, staying in your cabin for as long as he could. As expected, this whole treasure-seeking endeavor turned out to be rather pricey - the cost was bumped mainly by their place of stay being none other than Rosemary and Thyme. Since you were the main reason for Geralt hanging around for as long as he had, you announced that you'd pay for their expenses. This caused a series of debates and arguments, to be honest. The men accepted your sponsorship very reluctantly. Jaskier wasn't making too much fuss around it - the bard enjoyed being maintained, kept in luxury like the cream of society he envisioned himself to be, not complaining about anything. Geralt was the one to stir up the waves, actually. It took you endless evenings of sex, arguments, bargaining, and negotiations to make Geralt believe you were, indeed, loaded. A full-on two-month stay at the most expansive inn in the city? You were fully capable of spending the same amount on a shopping spree, it just was change for you. All the money you saved in the bank of Novigrad was past courtesy of Emhyr Var Emreis himself - he paid you a ridiculous sum of Orens for your position, enough to feed a village for a lifetime. In the end, you remained victorious. Geralt accepted the money, sighing and giving you the look.

By the time the summer rolled around, the two had to move on. Dealing with the lifestyle of living in Novigrad was taking a considerable toll on Geralt's mental - not only did he have to deal with Jaskier's constant yapping and romantic endeavors (as well as with their often messy results), but the folk of Novigrad was also starting to get volatile too. On top of that, Dijkstra caught onto Geralt's track and attempted to contact him with the promise of cooperation. Yes. As if. He explained that the contract that kept them around had been solved, and Novigrad didn't have more monsters to be caught. No contracts posted, no nightmares to be silenced, no job propositions for the Witcher - Geralt ran out of excuses to remain in your vicinity.

When mentioning the contract, Geralt also explained that per usual, the contract turned out to be a fluke - the pair of adventurers left the city with much less gold than originally promised because the gold indeed turned out to be courtesy of the Leprechauns. This meant that as soon as the bandits died, the hordes of gold disappeared. That's the life of a Witcher for you, Geralt laughed while explaining. As per usual, Julian hoped to end up loaded at the end of their adventure just to get a load of bullshit in return. Well, at least the two had all the fun and the memories to hold on to, right? ... Right? No gold to be had, the payment was much less than promised and both the bard and the Witcher were treated as clowns. The fun and the memories, Julian mumbled on repeat, the fun and the memories.

The day of their departure fell on the morning after Saint John's Eve. Surely, more nights were to await you, but it will take a long time before Geralt finds his way back to you after he leaves Novigrad the following morning. You both understood what his departure meant - there was no reason to dwell on the topic. It could be weeks, months, or years until he'll kiss you again, until you ghost over his cheek with trembling fingers, whispering sweet nothings in the Elder. Notably, this Saint John's Eve was one of the quietest nights you've ever spent in each other's presence. Every word and look had an underlying weight that neither of you wanted to take into account, each action and talk was enhanced with the prospect of a separation that can take any sort of time frame. The emotions felt more intense as if they would burn a hole in your chest if you'd faced them head-on. Therefore, everything was subdued and kept to a minimum, as if nothing was going to happen early in the morning. Geralt wouldn't leave on Roach's back and you wouldn't be commuting to Novigrad to meet Dijkstra in his bathhouse.

Realizing the incoming separation, Geralt made sure he was holding you in his arms no matter what. It was impractical as you tried to put something to eat together, but his clinginess made you laugh. Whenever he couldn't put his arms around you, he made sure he was hovering behind you, ghosting over each move you made. His nose would tangle in your hair so he could breathe in your scent, kissing his favorite spot on the nape of your neck whenever he had the opportunity. When the night finally came, both of you stood in front of the window and watched the dusk settling in. The woods were quiet and the waves of the lake were crashing into the shore, nicely lining up with crickets buzzing. Geralt's brain was sure to memorize everything as you stood in an opened window, letting the humid air caress both your bodies. A storm was coming.

Since you've just got out of bed (because you were adamant about his being the best view of the year), you were only lazily covered in a linen bedsheet. Geralt didn't even bother with putting on any clothes. Neither of you said a word as you watched the view slowly changing - the sun slowly setting down, the sky starting to glow with orange and pink, fireflies flying around in clusters, local folk throwing a celebration in the nearby village. Props to you, Geralt hadn't seen prettier scenery in a long time. "Come back to bed with me." - He whispered, his voice breaking with each word. It was a plea from a lover to a lover, the first sign of incoming departure. Geralt hummed as he kissed the sweet spot on your neck, feeling how soft and warm your skin was. - "Please." "I'll be there in a moment." - You promised, smoothing his arm loosely thrown around your shoulder. - "This is my favorite night of the year. No chance I'd miss my yearly tradition of staring out of the window instead of joining the folk in their celebrations." "I'll miss your warmth in the meantime, darling." - The Witcher hummed, smoothing the curve of your lovely bottom before he left you. All the various pet names still made you look at Geralt funny, leaving an amused grin on your lips. Both of you were having a troublesome time getting accustomed to Geralt using terms of endearment unironically. He likely wouldn't use any pet names by his own initiative, but upon discovering how undone you became in bed after calling you his dove, Geralt started to warm up to the idea. Notably, some pet names didn't land in the slightest, giving you a fit of laughter - he still had a long way to go, but you were getting somewhere.

The morn was bittersweet and saying goodbyes was hard. The chilly morning air was smoothing your body as you stood in the opened door, watching Geralt disappear in the distance on Roach's back. The crickets were still buzzing between the blades of grass, and morning dew was irrigating your small garden. The ground was soaked from yesterday's rainstorm. On that morning, you could feel your heart growing heavy in your chest. As you said, it was all fucking bittersweet. Before Geralt, the pure thought of being in love was unimaginable, horrifying even. While he showed you how beautiful resonating with another human could be, you had to swallow the pill of dealing with loneliness coming along with your lover's departure. You were passionate about your past lovers, and you even took a liking to a few of them back in the past... But letting go of the reigns was making your skin crawl. With Geralt, though, it felt like the right thing to do. So you trusted the process, remaining incredibly anxious about it. You noted asking Jaskier about dealing with being enamored the next time you meet him.

As expected, you wished Geralt the best of luck on his journey, praying to the Stars to see him safely return to your arms before kissing him for the last time. The man dried the tears rolling down your cheeks before drowning them in gentle pecks, begging you not to cry - seeing you miserable would make his heart grow heavy in his chest, ensuring his departure would torture him on his following journey. Trying to make it easier for the both of you, you did your best to take control of your emotions (Geralt was holding his in a tight fist of iron, not letting a sign of weakness seep through into his expression). Gathering your composure, you nodded and gently pushed him over the doorstep in jest. While you had his spare shirt on (Geralt brought you one just so you could wear it in case you'd miss him), your own spare shirt was tucked away, safely hidden in his leather bag like some precious cargo. You gave it to Geralt for the same reason - you knew that Geralt was able to smell your scent long after it was gone for everyone else, reminiscing of you when he'd play with the silky fabric. Just a piece of memorabilia, you thought when you exchanged the pieces of clothing. For Geralt, the shirt meant much more. It was a small reminder of your lonely log cabin hidden away, a reminder of the sense of home you found in each other. It was to serve as an anchor after he'd lost all his reason to Yenna.

Saying you were a damsel in distress during Geralt's absence, however, would be plainly wrong. Sure, being in a new situation, you took a few days to ponder about the right course of action - should you give into the drama, wearing only black until he comes back? Bollocks, you didn't have enough clothes to pull that off. Were you supposed to keep your hands to yourself, not having a lustful thought about anyone else? Yeah, as if - Geralt knew you well enough to not try to tie you down. Just as he'd be with Yenna, you could be with anyone you wished to - he ensured his mind would be with you the entire time, but he couldn't promise what course of action his body would take - he expected nothing less from you. Pushing on with your daily life came on top of your priorities - it eased your mind and let you deal with petty bullshit, ensuring you wouldn't be drowning yourself in tears over the man you loved.

Shortly after deciding not to be dramatic (much to Jaskier's dismay), you decided not to spend more time sitting on your doorstep, despairing for the one you love - quite the opposite, actually. While having the Butcher of Blaviken on your mind all the time, you simply continued on. First, you took Novigrad's gambling scene by storm. Bumping into Jaskier during his visit to Nobigrad one late summer night, he swayed you into enrolling in one of the most high-stakes tournaments in Passiflora (both of you were almost blackout drunk, holding hands and giggling like little kids when signing the enrollment form)... And to your surprise, you managed to win. It were the most satisfactory games of Gwent you've played in a long time, and there also were moments you thought you were fucked, but you kept your head in the game, ensuring a ridiculous sum of Orens to your name. You took some of the money to yourself, just out of politeness, ensuring the rest will fund the modernization of Novigrad's hospital - when comparing the quality of health care in Wyzima and Novigrad, it couldn't differ more. No wonder Temeria had more than three times less healthcare mortality rate, my oh my. The rest of the prize money was given towards buying new equipment for Novigrad's rather humble school and the mimics of 'schools' in nearby villages. It wasn't much, but the knowledge of making at least a bit of a difference warmed your soul.

After you were done with Gwent for a bit (realizing you weren't to find such opponents for some time) and watched Jaskier leave the city in good health, you concentrated on cooperation with Dijsktra and his other ratty friends. As much as you couldn't trust the guy an inch, you found common ground and soon enough, you were considered allies of sorts. The spy invited you to accompany him to various public events as his plus-one and guest of honor, taking you out to royal balls and celebrations to introduce you to the political leaders of neighboring kingdoms. This didn't mean you'd be introduced to the kings specifically - you spent more time with their counselors and counseling witches. To be frank, the counselors tended to be more fun anyway. Nilfgaardian forces were close to being unstoppable, especially with allowing their mages to use all sorts of magic forbidden by the council... But the Northern Realms consisted of vast kingdoms and landmasses - the mass of land was practically impossible to contest on foot and maneuvering and strategizing was therefore very difficult (via army battalions and war machines, that was). Until the moment Cintra, Sodden, and Temeria hadn't fallen in flames, there were still choices to be made and hope of defeating them.

To your luck, King Foltest, while undoubtedly being a sister-fucker (that's what Geralt told you), was also wise enough to listen to both you and the council - you spent a considerable amount of with Triss Merigold, his consoling witch. Queen Calanthé and her husband, Eist Tuirseach of Skellige, were a tougher nut to crack - thanks to Mousesack's (Calanthé's good friend and advisor) calming presence, the four of you were able to come to a pact. You were sure that Calanthé would love to see you dead, just like the bigger half of the council. It was when she started inviting you to her infamous Cintran balls and celebrations, having you seated at her table while complaining about men in general and not having the opportunity of meeting you sooner (because you slipped up and mentioned you were supposed to be part of Pavetta's ball), you decided it was quite the opposite. The two of you found unlikely friendship in one another, exchanging letters and small, meaningless gifts. That's a good sign, Dijkstra assumed after you informed him of your ongoing correspondence, surely, it's strengthening the alliance.

To even more relief, the councils (both the witches and the spies simultaneously) decided that sending you back to Nilfgaard just so you could woo Emhyr Var Emris under your spell would be more or less reasonlessly suicidal, illogical, and extremely time-consuming. Don't take it the wrong way, many of those people hated you. They wanted you dead, but your mind-reading and mind-altering abilities were more valuable than just having you headless on a whim. The council didn't even force you to participate in negotiations with the Black Ones - the risk of Emhyr realizing it was you pulling the strings, revealing the inner workings and power schemes of Nilfgaard to the others was too great. Your consulting was highly appreciated by the Northern Realms but also paid handsomely, so you had nothing to complain about. Even though you didn't admit it, it felt good to be back, meddling with politics. They sure as hell didn't get more fun, but for the first time in a long time, you were a highly regarded member of political scheming and affairs, oftentimes balancing the fragile alliances between various kingdoms on the tips of your fingers (and yes, there were moments when it came to using Axii too). You weren't just that lonely puny priestess living in that cabin in the woods anymore, you had the power to make people's lives better and on top of that, save them. There were instances when the spy syndicate took you for travels around Redania, having you complete odd jobs and negotiations with the mad king Radovid himself. You've been one of the few who came back to Novigrad alive.

Rumor had it that Dijskra himself admitted that you were one of the best strategists and most valuable sources of help they could have, mainly due to your extensive knowledge. Whether Dijkstra said it or not and if he was sober when making the admission was up for debate, but he never complimented you directly.

While being busy with all these politics, there still were nights when missing Geralt got harder than ever. Sometimes, you'd listen to Jaskier talking about their recent meeting - that was when you bumped into the bard in Oxenfurt and as per usual, decided it would be much more fun to spend the night getting hammered in his presence than whatever other shit you were doing. Once, Calanthé brought him up - you've been watching the court dancing, the night was deep and the drinks were plenty when the talk came to the Law of Surprise. The queen was tipping on the line of being blackout drunk by that point, telling you about Pavetta, Duny, and how it all came to be - that was when she dropped the bomb on you. Ensuring no uncalled ears were in the radius, she drunkenly admitted that Geralt claimed Ciri in such a law. Calanté realized the Witcher did it out of the ridiculousness of it all, for shits and giggles as she eloquently he put it - what none of them was expecting, however, was Pavetta being with a child. Rest assured, Calanthé hated Geralt's guts. You had a hard time computing the information before accepting that Geralt is a deadbeat godfather to the poor, little blonde girl running around the table. Other times, it was the small details reminding you of him - smoothing a wolf hide between your fingers, smelling something that reminded you of him, or having a shot of his favorite spirits.

Holding a grudge against Geralt leaving wouldn't make much sense. It wouldn't do you no good either, of which you were aware - it was much better to occupy yourself with all the boring schemes and politics, as you kept on telling Dijkstra. The spy knew even the things he wasn't supposed to, so he asked about your white-haired friend every now and then. Each time Dijsktra said his name, a small jolt of pain spread through your chest - each time, you had to put your best mask on just so Disjtra wouldn't see tears cumulating in your eyes. No matter how much you missed Geralt, you understood Destiny was a tickle power. With each night Geralt spent in your bed, the two of you were just asking to be punished for being defiant; however, nothing in the whole wide Continent could make you feel better.

However, no matter your small acts of rebellion, Destiny swayed the Witcher away from you continuously. Each time, it was different - sometimes, Geralt announced that he'd accepted a contract that would take a few days at most, coming back home to you as soon as he's done... Disappearing for months. Other times, Julian dragged Geralt into deep shit that almost every time incomprehensibly connected to some sort of political mumbo-jumbo. On a few occasions, you had to even pull a few strings just so the two idiots wouldn't get thrown into jail. Explaining to Eist that Jaskier truly didn't mean to call his aunt 'interesting as a withered apple tree' during his and Geralt's field trip to Skellige was one of the most humiliating situations you've got yourself in. Calanthé, on the other hand, almost lost his shit when you told her during the dinner, laughing so gutturally and genuinely she started crying. Mind you, she was almost sober, so it really had to be funny. Lastly, there was her. Yennefer of Vengerberg, Yenna, or simply Yen, had the worst luck when it came to Geralt. He'd always appear suddenly and uninvited, shaking up her world and whatever she had going on. The wish fulfilled by the genie had their fates intertwined, ensuring they wouldn't be able to shake the other off their back or escape the relationship unscathed. As you've discovered, the relationship was rather toxic - hate and love, untamable passion was the prominent trifecta accompanying the two lovers and no matter how much Geralt wanted to come back to you, as soon as he'd seen Yenna, his senses were clouded until the moment they had an argument and... Again. Geralt, no matter how much he'd like to, couldn't avoid these instances just because. Just like the ball of Cintra, it was bound to happen. It wouldn't be wise to defy Destiny much more than you already did.

This didn't mean you could keep yourself from pondering - when the loneliness and separation got through to you, you'd ask the Stars to show you where Geralt was, even if for a moment. Each of these instances cost you a small amount of your blood that had to be spread on your humble altar in the backyard. It was one of the reasons you'd chosen this particular cabin back when searching for a place to settle in. The thing that convinced you was the place of raw power and chaos humming in your backyard. Your palm was covered in scars soon enough. You've been good with covering them and getting them to heal well enough to remain almost invisible (much better than Geralt anyway), but Geralt scolded you each time he noticed a new addition to the collection. No matter the Witcher's whining, you kept performing the ritual just to satiate the need to know Geralt was safe and alive.

On some nights, you'd see him on his toes, potions coursing through his veins, holding a silver sword in his palms, fending off monsters. Those visions made you worried sick from the stomach, uneasy until Roach and Geralt rolled into the road leading to your cabin. Sometimes, the visions got cryptic. A flock of ravens cut your field of vision short, their annoying shrieking filling your ears. Soon, the scent of lilacs and gooseberries filled your nose, and then, for a glimpse, you'd see someone kissing each other just to hush the want and heat in their groins. These visions made you sigh as you sluggishly dragged yourself back to your cabin, opening the strongest bottle of Temerian wine you found lying around. Fucking hell, not that you'd be the jealous type, but Yennefer was leaving a sour taste in your mouth - if he was bound to anyone else but her, you'd reconcile with the fact much easier, surely. The problem was that you knew her, you knew her ways and how she acted, and for that, you hated her to bits. What was worse, Yenna's ways reminded you of yours, and that was making you hate her even more. The visions you loved the most were as clear as the summer sky. No blood or shrieking, no dangerous monsters, and no death - just Geralt sitting on Roach's back, his fingers playing with the silky fabric of your shirt as the inseparable duo (him and Jaskier) pressed on forward. Seeing him reminiscing about you as much as you did of him made you smile, heart fluttering in your chest. The buffoon, the moron, the idiot... You loved him so much.

So much so that no person could match him in your eyes. Rest assured, you tried. As mentioned, Geralt knew you well enough to be naïve and think you wouldn't be fucking anyone else. It was obvious to him that you wouldn't just you wouldn't just sit on your ass all day, saving yourself for him. If anything, it wouldn't be anything like you. Geralt wasn't the one to throw childish tantrums of jealousy either. You both talked about your other lovers frequently, actually, sharing your escapades and mishaps. At first, you seduced both men and women, didn't really matter, in search of that spark that would set you ablaze.

Soon enough, you realized it wasn't worth your time. No matter how handsome, beautiful, witty, or funny the people were, none of them had anything which would satisfy you. The sex was fine, truly - there was little that could go wrong in this regard. What was not fine were all the missing emotions - the endless, almost overwhelming love in their eyes, witty remarks, and inside jokes someone would mutter only after spending a lot of time together. Before him, it was unimaginable you'd get vulnerable enough with someone to let emotions and feeling seep into fucking - now, it was unimaginable to fuck someone without catching feelings first. No matter how horrified you were of love, it intensified everything, heightened every small emotion, and made you feel alive - as if you were asleep until that night. Even though you thought you were in love with someone before (back when you were in Emhyr's services), only now you realized how stupid that assumption was. You weren't stupid either - you knew the people you've slept with couldn't know as much information about you if you weren't giving them the time and space... But the cycle of seduction and one-night stands wasn't doing you any good. Honestly, it all started getting tiresome and boring soon.

Sure, it was pleasant to have some sort of company in your solitude now and then, but as time went by, you became uninterested. If anything, it left you unsatisfied and hollow - searching for something more. When you so desired to imitate having an actual life, you'd preferably swing by Rosemary and Thyme. This inn ensured you'd bump into an acquaintance of yours, someone who knew you and liked spending time with you... These pub tours left you more satisfied than sex itself.

While on the topic of sex, sex with Gearlt was getting better and better each time. It was always great, but as time went by, you started bringing toys and inventions purposed for lovemaking, introducing each other to unfamiliar concepts and ideas. As you built up trust in one another, you'd occasionally let him tie you up - sometimes, the Witcher would eat you out like the most delicious dish drowning in the sight of you fighting against the silky ropes, other times he'd fuck you senseless, letting you hang in the air like an art piece that he admired. Just as Geralt reaped the rewards of your trust, he was trying his best to trust right back. He'd reluctantly let you blindfold him, stripping him off his most important sense just so you could do as you pleased. It was unfamiliar and potentially frightening at first, so much so that you had to slowly coax him into trying it because Jaskier swore it was so much fun during your last drinking diversion. Geralt had to admit these were the most intense orgasms of his life. Besides the ropes and silky blindfolds, there were many more toys you got creative with. When you didn't feel adventurous or decided not to complicate things much, Geralt would let you hypnotize him, stimulating his mind with the sweetest and sultriest scenarios. Usually, you'd suck his dick while projecting the imagery, panting excitedly each time he'd come undone.

It took years before you fully committed to expanding on the fragile fundaments you've built. While not being exclusive, you were finally ready to proclaim your situation as 'being in a relationship' after the infamous Witcher started courting you. Saying the sentence out loud was fantastical in itself, let alone realizing it was actually happening. Since you could afford anything you wanted or needed, Geralt assumed that a materialistic approach to courting you wouldn't bring much success. Instead, the man concentrated on sharing memorable moments with you, making memories, and trying to build at least the illusion of the simple life he'd dreamt of for the two of you.

It started out slowly. One night, Geralt asked if you'd be interested in spending the evening riding your horses - soon, you realized it wasn't just any ride, not like the hundreds of other rides you've gone on before; the folk were celebrating the first of May, the day of love and lovers. It was wonderful to partake in the celebration instead of quietly watching it from afar. That night, you felt like you belonged in the local community for possibly... First time ever. Folk liked you, sure, but never invited you over. This celebration changed it all. Local girls made you a flower crown, gushing over local boys and the latest events as if you were friends forever. Even though you were reluctant in the beginning, the locals asked you to dance with them and drink up, telling you all the hottest rumors and fables going around. The folk even ignored and carefully accepted Geralt's presence, which was almost unheard of. You loved to sit aside and watch him play games with the children - the Witcher even agreed to perform cheap magic tricks for their pleasure, sharing some of his less gruesome stories. The elders weren't overjoyed with having a Witcher (whose eyes glowed in the dark) taking part in such celebrations, but since he was your plus one, they tolerated him.

The courting continued throughout the following year, making you giddy each time Geralt asked you if you 'had some time'. It took a lot of courage for him to finally choke the words out and ask if you'd become his lady. It wasn't a marriage proposal by any means, but it finally made things feel a bit official.

From that point on, his stays in your cabin started to feel... Different. Sure, you still fucked like your life depended on it, but that wasn't all. Suddenly, there was much more to discover and experience, even though you didn't deem it possible. You started to do all the lovey-dovey things you've read about in your romantic novels, just like other couples did. You'd bake and cook together (Geralt loved to bake and he was actually good at it), read books while cuddling under one blanket on rainy days, and bask in the sunlight on warm, sunny ones. If the weather got too hot and unbearable, you'd go for a swim in the lake. In the fall, you'd go forage and hunt in the woods, occasionally spending hours in silence as you sneaked behind the trees or sat on the shore, fishing. When you felt the need for company, you'd ride to Novigrad to either visit the theatre Julian showed you or spend nights in taverns, either indulging in gambling or listening to bards and other performers while sipping on ale. Geralt still wasn't the biggest fan of the latter, but you were teaching him to appreciate art, step by step.

Both of you remained the same as before, which you appreciated endlessly. While you were all lovey-dovey, Geralt wasn't afraid of getting broody and you weren't afraid to call him out on his bullshit. His dry sense of humor remained unchanged and his rants about the evil and moral compasses still made you roll your eyes. You still didn't see eye-to-eye regarding politics or his rather free style of bringing Cirilla up (especially the fucking part when he was being a deadbeat). Sometimes, Geralt would even do or say something so uncalled for that you'd just pick yourself up to leave. This was foreplay, generally leading to a very heated argument. These ended the way they always did - you spat insults at each other (some of which were very creative, Geralt had to admit) until you sat down, fuming for a bit.

"Better?" - He'd ask silently, the corners of his mouth slowly forming a smile. "Much better." - You'd agree, sighing. "Sorry for being a cunt-bitten coward." - Geralt would then say, making you look at him with a small smile. To that day, the Witcher choked when it came to apologies, especially when Geralt had no doubt about being in the right. However, he also discovered the hard way that admitting and owning up being a dick (as you oh so eloquently put it) was a first step when it came to rectifying the spoils of said arguments. "Sorry for being... How did you even call me?" "... Dismal-eyed and anused." "Gotta admit... That's a new one, Geralt... And a good one." "Learned it from the children when passing through the village earlier today. Glad you like it."

Everything remained the same but evolved ever so slightly. Included in this everything was also your relationship with Geralt's best friend in the whole wide world... At least according to the bard himself - knowing Jaskier, Geralt surely had little to no say in this matter. You were talking, of course, about none other than the renowned and infamous bard Julian Alfred Pankratz... Commonly going under the alias Jaskier. Geralt, however, preferred to call him a jester... Or even better, an idiot.

Ever since you've met this chaos walking on legs, you liked him. Jaskier was the polar opposite of Geralt's broody, keep-it-short-and-simple personality - the bard lived for all the drama and mythical, fantastical stories. You were positive that he was breathing for heartbreak, excitement, love, and life in general - he found inspiration in anything around him (mostly in women, though). Theatrics and excessive ballads were right up his alley. With his jolly, talkative nature, however, came a plethora of problems. The biggest one you could think of was his inability to keep his cock in his pants, having at least one man chasing after his throat at any place he showed. Sometimes, Julian could be a bit naïve and even though he was one of the smartest and wisest people you've met (in his own regard), he could suffer with momentary verbosity - saying the most unnecessary shit at the most inappropriate time.

Julian shared his most scandalous escapades with you in person, others and more recent moments usually made it to you in the form of stories - Dijkstra didn't waste a second before sharing them as soon as he heard them. The depth or nature of your relationship towards Jaskier wasn't known to Dijkstra - the spy, however, knew you were both friends of Geralt's. In Djikstra's book, this translated into the two of you surely meeting at least once. Your favorite story covered a ball in Redania. There, Jaskier unknowingly, however continuously, insulted one of the crown princes to Redania's throne simply because the prince said Julian's singing is 'about as delightful as a roast burnt to crisp'. This almost resulted in Julian's head being cut off. If Philippa Eilhart wouldn't have stepped in, he'd surely be dead by now.

You could recall the first night Jaskier searched for you in the time of need - it was during deep winter, one of the harshest ones you've lived through. The sun was nowhere to be seen for weeks, nights coming as soon as early afternoon. The weather was cold, and the blizzards didn't stop coming. The folk required your assistance and herbal hooches and conjunctions almost daily. At the end of December, you've even decided it would be better to set out to nearby villages and knock on each door yourself, instead of risking the folk getting lost or freezing to death. So, you've committed - every other day, you'd set out on the road to see if the folk needed your help and to what extent they needed it. On the worst of nights, you rode from village to village in your territory until morning came. It was the busiest winter in the last decade - the types of illnesses and ailments varied greatly, making you worried about your impressive herb supply... Which was significantly getting smaller every time you opened it. At this rate, you were getting worried about where in the fuck were you gonna get more herbs.

Nightmares and depressions were simple enough to deal with - passionfruit or peppermint teas usually did the trick if used in combination with lemon balm for a good night's rest. When the bad dreams and other demons got too out of hand, you'd offer to use Axii to ease their minds. Colds and flu were giving you a run for your money, but they were easy enough to deal with - pepper or garlic soup and ginger teas brewed with a spoon of wild honey tended to do wonders. If the folk mixed just the right amount, they were back on their feet in no time. Sometimes, you had to deal with frostbite, which was not that hard - to your surprise and horror, you've become something of a midwife during the upcoming month. The snow was blocking the paths and there were not enough druids and certified healers to take care of every case. Not that you'd be requested by the folk for this purpose - you usually had bad fucking timing, coming at the right place at the wrong time. Rest assured, during your fifth labor, you already knew what to do and how things should be progressing - if there was something off, you were enough experienced of a healer to make a concoction to help get the mother on the right track. Pneumonia, however, horrified you deeply. There was no certainty if the infected folk would make it to see the following morn, let alone be cured successfully. You spent night after night mixing peppermint concussions at local taverns, praying to the Stars for saving at least one of them. Some slowly started getting better under your care... But.. The images and memories of watching children passing away with high fevers, their bodies trembling ever so gently, sweaty and pale as snow, their lips dark blue due to asphyxiation were sure to haunt you for the rest of your day.

Even worse than that all the ailments were monsters and wild animals. All these creatures were also becoming desperate for a morsel of food and a place of shelter that would offer at least some degree of warmth and cover. Attacks were becoming more frequent when it came to wolves and wild dogs. Wolves were usually timid and ran way before humans could spot them - if these animals were desperate enough to tear an arm off a man's shoulder, how long would it take for bears and other predators to endanger the folk? Your question, thankfully, wasn't answered. The 'arm incident' was the worst that animal attack got. Monster nests found around the fields and farms were frozen - the creatures who used to inhabit those nests lay around the remnants of their creation lifelessly. Rigor mortis was slowly setting in as ice and snow covered them, hiding the horrifying view out of sight. That was, possibly, the only good thing this winter brought. How would the balance be restored in the spring? You didn't have the energy to ponder such things during those trying times.

The folk didn't exactly blame you for being unsuccessful, mainly because the success rate was 50-50; they were grateful knowing someone was working hard to keep them safe and in good health. Even though the hate wasn't coming and likely wasn't ever going to come, you had trouble living with yourself. Looking at your own reflection was proving to be a tedious, dreadful task. Taking care of yourself wasn't simple, something like a proper sleeping schedule, let alone a drinking and eating schedule was becoming alien to you. You could barely recall the last time you took a proper bath. Anytime you'd arrive home, you'd break down in tears, thinking about what you could do differently - to maybe say one or two more poor souls. Were your mixtures too weak? Were your concoctions brewed wrong? Did you pick out the wrong herbs or add the wrong amount of ingredients? You've done everything you could... But it wasn't enough.

On top of illnesses galore, the overall quality of your life was also slowly going down. The snow drifts blocked paths and roads, complicating the transportation of supplies, exclusive goods, and food from the south. You hadn't seen fruit, such as grape wine or lemons, for a month by that point. Good news? There was enough alcohol in Novigrad to supply you until the spring rolls around. Sure, you realized you had the luxury and affluence to eat potatoes and miserable vegetables bought in the city. You also hung and portioned a deer hunted down, ensuring you'd have enough for at least two weeks. Your horse wasn't overjoyed with sharing his stable with a skinned venison, but you didn't spend time arguing with him. No matter, eating the same dish every night wasn't fulfilling. It was fine and kept you on your feet, but nothing to get too excited about... Thankfully, that was the night the bard came and shook up your entire world.

It happened in the deep of the night. The wind was howling, and your fireplace was filled to the brim with logs just so you could rest safely, assuming you'll have all your fingers by the morn. The ice-cold wind was bumping into the walls of your cabin, seeping through the small cracks. It was also loud. It could've been shortly past midnight when you decided to call it a night, put your book away, and blew the candles out so you could dive into darkness. As you found the right position for sleeping after half an hour of rolling over, someone frantically knocked on the cabin's door. The sense of urgency was unmissable. You reacted immediately, got out of bed, and threw a heavy coat of fur over your shoulders in case you'd have to leave immediately. Thankfully, you were tasked to stay on hand. The wife of one of the local farmers, Martička, was due to go into labor any day now, but the midwife needed to stock up on some herbs and medicine in Novigrad. Naturally, you offered the farmer to seek you out in case of need.

Instead of Janek, however, there was someone you didn't recognize at first. The moment the door opened, his knees gave out. The stranger, seemingly unable to control his freezing body, collapsed into your arms, making you falter to the ground. After kicking the door closed with your foot, you started to inspect the newcomer... Just to realize it was Julian lying in front of you. His eyes were cold, the tip of his nose dark red, his skin turned ashen pale. His cheeks were frozen, his lips dry. "Oh, Melitelé." - You mumbled, smoothing and gently pinching various spots on his face just to get a reaction. When nothing happened, you started to snap your fingers next to his ear, finally making his eyes flutter open. Knowing he was at least alive made you let out a peal of relieved laughter as you leaned your forehead to his chest. - "Thank the Stars, thank to Melitelé, you're alive. You're looking fucking tarnished, dearest bard." "My apologies, m'lady, I'll make sure I look my best the next time you lay your eyes on me." - the bard chuckled dryly, patting your shoulder. As soon as he did that, he started hissing - the pain in his fingers just multiplied. - "I don't know if it's the fever, but you're looking lovelier than the last time we met." - Julian got out with trouble, choking on his cough.

Hearing how Jaskier coughed, you could feel the panic rising in your chest. No. Not this. Not him. Not your drinking buddy. Not a person you were actually attached to. This didn't sound good at all, the sound of his cough was reminiscing of the sick children... The way they choked. You ordered Jaskier to get into bed, starting to heat up a whole cauldron of water so you could use it for preparing warm and other herbal wraps. You had to work quickly. The moment you started taking his clothes off you realized... The clothes didn't match the outside weather at all.

"What in Vesemir's name were you thinking?!" - Now, you were full-on scolding him like a little boy, hanging his summery jacker over the fireplace to warm it up and make all the snow and crystals of ice unfreeze. The clothes Jaskier wore were paper thin, no wonder he looked the way he looked. - "You go out in this fucking weather in this clothing? What were you thinking, you darned artless, beef-witted barnacle?! That you're going for a summer stroll by the lake?!" "Your hands..." - The man whispered weakly, ignoring your screaming altogether, looking at you with his eyes glassy. His cheeks were reddening, his body was starting to burn up. Fever was coming. You had to get on brewing hooch and tea right away. - "They're... Burning hot, Y/N. Do you have a fever?" "You're the one who has a fever." - You answered, chuckling dryly. Yelling at him in this state would be as useful as trying to shut him up. - "Lift your legs for me, come on now, let me take the trousers off." "No." - Jaskier protested, shaking his head as he weakly tried to preserve the last remnants of his dignity. - "If it's supposed to happen, it surely won't happen like this. I've imagined this night many times before and this is certainly not the way it goes down." "You've imagined... Julian Alfred Pankratz." - There was a clear warning in your voice accompanied by a hint of amusement as you started taking his boots off, making sure you were able to cover most of his body with a thick blanket. The way he thought about having sex even on his deathbed, however, was making you laugh. - "I'm not about to fuck you. I'm about to heal you." "Yeah... That makes more sense." - The bard agreed, helping you slip his trousers down so you could hang them over the fireplace too.

"Fancy answering my question now, bard?" - You asked as you sat next to the cauldron, letting Jaskier sprawl all over your bed. He was huddled in thick blankets and various hides and furs; you made sure he didn't have any frostbite before you put a heating pan under his ankles and made him sip on peppermint tea with honey and jasmine mixed in. "What would you like to know?" "Why aren't you reasonably clothed?" "I didn't have much time to pack my bags before he threw me out." - Julian admitted silently. You've turned your head to him, furrowing at him. Who threw him out? Geralt? No, he might've found Julian annoying and yappy but he also loved him dearly - you've heard Geralt admitting it a few times after drinking all night. What happened, then?

"Who threw you out, Julian?" - The tone of your voice was now gentle, it was silent and patient. When was Geralt when Jaskier got his ass in deep trouble? Long gone, obviously. - "Were you attacked? Are there people after you?" "I was..." - The man started answering, yet as soon as you heard the tone of his voice, you realized where was this fucking ordeal heading. "Again? Seriously? Come on, bard!" - You exclaimed, clicking your tongue in disappointment. You were almost about to get mad at Geralt for letting Julian die somewhere in the wilderness. "It's not pleasant to watch a husband struggling to approach his very own wife, trust me. And for the record, I wasn't seducing her - I was nudging him to flirt with her... And he took it the wrong way." - Jaskier explained as if it was as simple as that. "If you hadn't done your damnest to fuck the poor lass, Jaskier, you might as well call me fucking Foltest of Temeria. You need to learn how to keep your cock in your pants, seriously." - By that point, you were handing him roasted potatoes and venison you'd just warmed up on the stove. The hooch was almost finished by that point - it was sure to knock Jaskier out cold.

"Thank you, dearest friend. The dish looks delicious." "Eat up, bard. Hopefully, it will taste as well as it looks. To be honest, there's something on my mind... How did you find my house? You've never been here, we mostly bump into one another in Oxenfurt... Or Novigrad." - You asked, sitting on the bed beside the man, leaning into the wooden wall behind you. Jaskier put the plate down for a bit, chewing on the food absentmindedly - even before Jaskier figured out how to put it, you already knew what he was about to say. "He... He sent me here. He was just leaving the city when I caught up to him, begging for help." - Jaskier explained silently, still chewing on the same mouthful. - "Said you'd understand and that he was sure you'd be willing to help me. Also asked me to pass his best regards." "Oh." - Was all you said, picking yourself up so you could check on the hooch.

So... Geralt was in Novigrad, just a few kilometers away from you. Yet he didn't pull up at your doorstep. There was only one possible explanation - he was with Yenna. Trying to keep your head in the moment, you let out a long exhale. "I'm... Sorry, Y/N." - Jaskier apologized tenderly, an unhappy expression on his face. He knew about your relationship, of course he did. Neither you nor Geralt talked openly about it in front of Jaskier, but it was more than fucking obvious that things were going great between the two of you. It was just earlier that year when Geralt started courting you - now, their paths collided again. She was under his spell as much as he was under hers.

"There's nothing to apologize for, friend, it was all accounted for the moment I voluntarily kissed him. This is the grudge I chose, this is my path to trudge." - You smiled, pouring the hooch into a porcelain mug so you could serve it to Jaskier later. - "I brought it on myself." After he was done with his meal, you were there to hold the mug next to him. - "I'll be by your side for the night, don't worry. This will help. You'll be better by the morn, I promise." - You promised when you noticed that Jaskier was eyeing the liquid with rising suspicion. Nodding, Julian accepted the medicine and drank all of it, not mouthing a word against its strong, herbal, dreadful taste. As Jaskier's lids got heavy, his breathing started to steady itself. The fever was slowly going away, you noted with a smile. It was nothing but flu, thankfully. "For the record, Y/N..." - Julian managed to get out half-asleep, his tongue struggling greatly with those simple words. - "You've always been my favorite... Out... Out of the two of you." "Thanks." - You whispered, smoothing his hair and mindlessly playing with his locks. This act prompted Jaskier to put his head on your thighs, hugging them with his forearm. As he did that, deep slumber finally overtook him, leaving you stuck in this position for the rest of the night. Honestly, you appreciated it - knowing Geralt was so close yet so far away gave you a heartache, especially knowing he won't be making it to you anytime soon. Jaskier was an unexpected company, surely, but not spending the night on your own felt... Nice. Given how much shit was going down lately. For the first time in a long time, someone else gave you the feeling of home and serenity you couldn't find anywhere.

Just like you promised, Jaskier felt much better in the morning. Jaskier was walking around the cabin, stretched his limbs, and checked if he still possessed all of his fingers. You, on the other hand, were bound to be cranky. You were sleeping while sitting, the muscles on your back were tightened and in pain. You were lying down when you woke up only thanks to Jaskier waking up before you, carefully laying you down himself. That said, your mood was abysmal when you opened your eyes. The man was thoughtful enough to make tea and prepared the last piece of bread for breakfast - presumably, Jaskier also found the last bits of blueberry marmalade you've hidden in the far corner of your pantry. Clearly, it wasn't hidden well enough.

"I'll buy you a new jar, my promises, m'lady." - The bard swore, putting down a mug and plate on the edge of the bed, letting you take your time to wake up. - "Don't know what herbs you've put into that hellish concoction, but I'm feeling like a brand new man. Even better, my lute made it out unharmed. All is fine and well." "Glad to hear that." "Anyway, what you've planned for the day, dearest friend?" "Gotta do my routine check-up on the village down south - promised I'd stop by yesterday. Couldn't, because I needed to be ready to assist during labor. Anka, the midwife, should be back around noon today, so I'm free to go today." "That sounds wonderful!" - The man laughed, clapping his hands together. - "Or... You could come help me get my bags back and in return, I'll assist you with... Whatever stuff you herbalists do." "How would you assist me?" "Trust me, I'd find a way." - Jaskier winked at you. Even though you were very inclined to stick your boot up his arse, you sighed and nodded, taking a bite from the bread. You'd rather get done with Julian's shit first, so he wouldn't pester and yap about it later. Melitelé, Julian was fucking lucky that the blueberry marmalade was as good as it was, the sweet goo alone made your mood significantly better.

Later that day, you handled haggling with the disgraced husband in hopes of Jaskier not getting his ass manhandled by the 6'2 man, no matter how hilarious the thought itself was. After ensuring Jaskier had all of his stuff back, the bard did everything he promised in return. First, Jaskier caught your hand and dragged you all the way to the slums of Novigrad, introducing you to an elven bootlegger, who, funnily enough, had a ridiculous sweet tooth. Anytime you'd have a craving for something sweet, it was worth a shot to ask this guy. As promised, you were gifted seven jars of various types of marmalade. Ensuring you'd swing by soon, the elderly elven rascal even gave you an extra jar of marmalade.

Since you've also mentioned running low on herbs sometime during the morning, Jaskier also introduced you to yet another friend of his. This time, it was a sweet elderly lady, whose shop was right next to Passiflora. You've never noticed it, but she had everything you required and promised that if you'd ordered herbs right there and then, they'd be delivered to her later that week. Julian unintentionally rescued you out of a deep shithole. Keeping all of his promises, the chatty bard also accompanied you during check-ups on the folk. You were mentally prepared to apologize for his verbosity and ensured you could cover his mouth fast enough. The prospect of Jasker running his mouth horrified you, but... It wasn't half bad, actually. No matter the ailment, Julian was sure to bring a good mood and peals of laughter into each home. When asked, Jaskier didn't waste a second before telling the children unbelievable whimsical stories or chatting with the adults, helping him to come to other thoughts. There were a few times when people even asked him to sing. Sure, under any different circumstances, he'd be perceived as yappy, annoying, and unbelievably unpleasant - yet during this winter, the folk took every chance to ease their minds and brighten up their mood.

You dozed off during your ride home; your last night's sleep sucked shit, your body hurt and your brain was fucking exhausted, turned into mush. Julian, naturally sitting right behind you, took the reigns out of your palms and assured you were huddled into your furry coat tightly, cuddling you in a more comfortable position before prompting your horse to continue. Since you saved his ass last night, Jasker promised himself he'd take care of everything for the night - first in order, he carefully put you in bed, taking your shoes. Cleaning the fireplace and starting a fire was simple enough, just like feeding your horse, and ensuring the stable was warm enough for the animal. The duo even shared a measly carrot Jaskier found in the pantry before it was time to cook dinner. That was when the trouble started. He wasn't the best cook... Well, he probably wasn't even a good cook to begin with. With enough nerve and confidence, however, he found spices and got to preparing roasted potatoes and some venison. It was your grumbling stomach and the smell of tasty food and warm tea that woke you up later.

As you sat inside your cabin in utter silence later that night, both paying attention to your separate activities, Jaskier asked if you'd like him to stick around for a bit. Jaskier explained it would be beneficial for both of you. He needed to have a place to stay (had to take part in some scholastic nonsense at the university) over the following month and you desperately needed some help. When you woke up the next morning, first, you rode to Novigrad to commission a sleeping hammock for him - you asked if he'd prefer his own bed, but the idea of a hammock was more alluring to the bard.

The two of you were friends for quite some time by that point; he had known you for a long time and seen you at both your best and worst (usually hammered under the table in Rosemary and Thyme, that was). Jaskier would've to be blind not to notice how torn down and exhausted you were. The bard gladly offered to run errands for you and help you with chores around the cabin - he'd gladly travel to Novigrad to get you the herbs you'd need (only if you'd write him a list, that was) or vegetables, wine, pastry, and other good, so you could ease up a bit and have more time to rest. That offer... Sounded fucking heavenly. With a grateful smile and not much thought to it, you accepted. A week turned into two weeks, two turned into three, and before you knew it, March came around the corner, spring following closely. The blizzards stopped. The snow melted as the temperature rose. The morning you spotted the first daffodil poking its bright yellow bloom through the remnants of snow, a wave of relief crashed over your chest. Everything was going to turn around. Everything was going to be alright.

It brought new hope and signaled things were changing ever so slightly. Life was coming back to frozen woods, lakes, rivers, and fields. If you and Jaskier were lucky and very quiet, you could watch hinds and baby deer walking through the surrounding meadows or hear the distant buzzing of bees waking up from slumber. The air smelled sweet, humid, and heavy with pollen. Nature had a lot of work cut out for that spring, so it wasted no time - you've noticed a whole bunch of early bloomers. Farmers wasted no time with planting the upcoming year's harvest. Trade was starting to stabilize in no time. The goods were even a bit cheaper before the economy stabilized once more. It took a bit before the value of crowns went up, so Oren was in a very good position. It didn't take long, but it was nice to buy your morning bread for one fucking Oren. As you've said, everything was going to be okay now.

Sadly, Geralt was nowhere to be seen... But things weren't as bad and dark when you had Julian around. Mainly because the two of you got along very well, you liked to think. It was calming to come home after a long day to find Jaskier attempting his best to cook dinner (the poor soul was doing his best with doing the chores, but he wasn't cut out for it) while bumbling about his newest scholastic finding. The longer his stay, the more new things you found out about him - you've always known Julian was very intelligent... In his own regard. Bards had the memory of a library, remembering every little silly story and fact they learned. That was why Jaskier was able to tell you about every Gwent card you owned. As he was explaining his scholastic discoveries to you, however, you realized Jakier was very fucking intelligent in general. He was just unable to take things seriously and concentrate for one damned day of his life... And also cursed with easily falling in love.

Your friendship worked well, the best it ever had in fact. The man knew how to make you laugh, complimented you on each chance he got, and even did his best not to involve himself with married women during his stay so you wouldn't have to deal with the ruckus these affairs tended to end in. Admittedly, Jaskier failed once or twice during your visits to Rosemary and Thyme and other inns of Novigrad, but overall, it was a great success. You, on the other hand, knew how to handle his moods and insecurities, and didn't scrutinize every little step or decision he made (as others tended to), no matter how senseless and idiotic it might've seemed. Even though you laughed at his actions or choices of words, you never laughed at Julian. That quality of yours was so fucking refreshing for Julian because he felt like he was not taken as the butt of the joke for once.

It wasn't easy to pinpoint what caused it... But... Something started to shift. It was a few days before he was set to leave when you finally took notice. You were both preparing for the following morning in your own regard - you've been reading through a formal request you've received from Triss Merigold and Jaskier was putting together his best outfit, asking you if he's looking presentable enough. He was supposed to be debating over whether his thesis was good enough to be accepted by the scholastic community... Whatever that was about. As he walked around the cabin mumbling to himself, you caught yourself staring at him, unable to look away. His hair was disheveled, too long for your taste, his stubble was getting a bit too stretchy and visible, and he was furrowing at something regarding those damned jackets. "I was asking... What is it?" - Jaskier asked, seemingly repeating the question. Furrowing at him, you shook your head. "What... Is... What, precisely?" "That's what I am asking you... You've been staring at me for the last ten minutes, you haven't moved a bit. Can I help you with anything? Are you perhaps searching for a specific word again?" "I wasn't... Staring. You're being delusional, I think. The jackets got to you." - You mumbled, your face flushing in reaction to his accusation. Not the accusation about being unable to remember a word, you've been over that before... But the accusation. Were you staring? Surely... No, according to the shit-eating grin, you definitely were staring.

You caught yourself staring and daydreaming over more occasions. The alarming part was that you weren't daydreaming about Geralt. You even got these... Impulses and small, selfish thoughts running through your head. For example, you were fucking itching for Jaskier to finally take you by your hand - each time his fingers would brush over yours, you could feel a giddy spark of electricity shooting up your arm. At first, you thought Jaskier wasn't even aware; you never shied away from being touchy-feely... Bumping his hand to yours... No big fucking deal. That was until you noticed he stumbled on his words and had to cough whenever it happened. Sometimes, he'd be yapping away over dinner... Telling you a story that happened earlier or something like that. What were you doing instead of listening? Staring at his lips in hopes you could just... Lean in and kiss him. Whenever nightmares got to you, Jaskier would sit by the bed and sing you the loveliest of tales and lullabies to lull you back to sleep; he'd remain there until being sure that you were truly asleep, nothing frightening you to death. Before, it wasn't hard not to stare at him when he took his clothes off when taking a bath - your eyes never gravitated towards him even though Jaskier's vain attempts at making you look. Now, all you wanted to was stare at him as he let the expansive, fancy shirts slip off his forearm and fall to the ground... It was hard as fuck to control yourself enough to close the door leading to the cabin, letting him get some privacy. You were becoming... Confused, to say the least. No matter the approach, you couldn't grasp the situation.

You've been in love with Geralt - that much was a given. Despite this 'given' in particular, Jaskier was excellent at making you flustered and speechless. For whatever fucking reason, he could make your heart flutter as if it were a bird trying to break free of its cage. The rest... Started slowly coming on its own.

You fought the urge to address the confusion for the longest time, secretly hoping it would all stop if you waited long enough for the situation to fizzle out. At first, you were sure the emotions and love you felt for the bard were strictly platonic, that it was all inside your head. However, as the first signs of Julian possibly developing identical feelings started to show, the whole 'platonic' part was out of the window. But before you mustered enough courage to ask him if it's real and whether he'd be interested in giving it a shot... It was his time to leave Novigrad.

It was utterly gutwrenching to watch him leave after two whole months - he informed you, however, that he'd be back in Novigrad in early summer. You made him promise he'd surely come to visit his favorite priestess in his whole wide world. That was the first time this man smoothed your chin to turn your head a bit, placing a soft, sweet kiss on your cheek. After pulling away, Julian seemingly waited for something (anything) to happen - whatever it was, you just smoothed the palm that held your chin, smiling at him. "The summer can't come fast enough." "Indeed, m'lady... Indeed."

What was the moment you realized you were fucked? As Jaskier waved at you for the last time before disappearing into the woods, the gaping hole inside your chest opened up again - bigger than before. This time around, there wasn't anyone drying your tears, so you allowed yourself to slide down the doorframe in tears. This time, it wasn't just missing him that you had to worry about - how in Bruxa's were you going to explain this? 'Listen, haha, Geralt, the funniest thing had happened - I got this sudden urge to kiss and fuck Jaskier... Also, I've fallen in love with him I think, what's your take on it?' Fucking no. 'So, Jaskier hanged at my place for the last two months, and remember how I always joked he'd never get under my fucking skirt? Yeah, well, about that...' Well, that sounded like the start of a bad anecdote. Funnily enough, you got too caught up in your own head to realize Geralt was one of the very few people who'd understand your situation.

As promised, Jaskier arrived in Novigrad in late June - as soon as he managed to sort out his future concert arrangements, he set out on the long walk to your cabin. Just as you spent the last few months overworking yourself and worrying over what you're gonna go when you slip up (yes - not 'if' you slip up but 'when' you slip up), the bard, surprisingly, spent a lot of time thinking of you. Jaskier wasn't entirely oblivious and noticed some signs of attraction here and there... The depth of the emotions he felt, however, wasn't clear to him at first (mainly thanks to his ability to be enamored by every living, breathing humanoid creature, constantly being interested in anything else other than reminiscing), but he worked towards the realization over time. During his travels in Toussaint, Jaskier often missed the smell of your perfume lingering in the air after you'd leave to deal with those boring fucking politics. He missed helping with the small things - fastening your necklaces or buttoning up the parts on your back you couldn't reach with your hands. He'd look up from his lyrics in search of you, to get your opinion... Realizing you were hundreds of kilometers away.

Well... Fuck, was all Jaskier concluded. On his way to your cabin, he did his best to create an acceptable bouquet of wildflowers to give to you. He hoped it would soften you so you'd listen to the confession he planned for the last two weeks. Jaskier tried scribing his thoughts and emotions into a letter he'd send you, but that didn't feel personal enough. He wished to look you in the eyes when confiding and confessing something so intimate and important. That was how he found himself stumbling through the meadows, mumbling nonsense under his breath. He was probably seeing things that weren't real, signs that were never there and if anything, Jaskier was getting ready to be rejected. However, he was willing to give it a shot, being a fool in love. The excitement of seeing you after months of being apart, the nervousness, all the heightened emotions overtook him... He could feel his stomach tingling, his palms tingling and his breath was short as if he walked a hundred miles.

Until his heart dropped in his chest, his skin turning ashen pale as he watched two particular people dancing and laughing. His two best friends were the two particular people embracing. The two people he was a fool for (except his petty fallout with Geralt back in Caingorn a few months back, but that was a different story). What... What was Jaskier even thinking? Watching as you fell onto the man's chest, laughing while putting your head on his shoulder just so you'd bring him closer... What was he thinking? No matter how many scenarios Jaskier had imagined, Geralt was never present during his love confession. Of course, Jaskier knew about the two of you (had his idea, anyway) but watching it really happen was otherworldly, agonizing in the worst sense. The sight of you two looking so happy caught Jaskier off-guard.

Suddenly, the meadow didn't feel the same. Jaskier got used to watching early spring slowly approaching beside you, and when looking back, he loved every second he was able to spend in the cabin; you'd set out to pick herbs and flowers, sometimes sat beside the window and watched baby deer wobbling around, and even sat by the fucking lake for the entire afternoon and caught fish, lazily basking in the weak March sunlight. A few times, when neither of you had to deal with papers, you'd take him to the brook and walk in it with your ankles bare, laughing at how cold the water was. All those beautiful, peaceful memories turned increasingly grayer the longer Jaskier watched you. The windows of your cabin were wide open, the smell of honey and mint lingering in the air; even though this remained identical, it didn't bring him comfort this time.

Laughing at his stupidity, Jaskier let out a frustrated scream before forcefully throwing the flower on the ground, turning on his heels, and disappearing back into the woods as fast as he could. The screaming caught Geralt's attention - putting his palms on your waist and holding you in place, he stopped to take a peak out of the window, searching for the source of the ruckus.

"Were you expecting someone?" - The Witcher asked, unable to make out who the stranger walking down the road was. "No, I don't think I was..." - You mumbled, joining Geralt in staring into the night. You couldn't see shit, however, so you weren't that much of a help. - "Wait a moment... Did I lose track of time again? Geralt, what time of the month is it? It's late May, right?" "Late June, actually. Think I've been here for far too long, your pretty head is all messed up." - Geralt remarked with a grin, smoothing your lower back. Usually, you'd jokingly tease him about this comment, so your silence was worrying, to say the least. Well, at least he wasn't wrong - Geralt tended to have this effect on you. Every time he appeared on your doorstep, the greater universe around you shrunk into the size of your cabin, making you ignorant of everything that was going on around you. Five years later, he still affected you like this. Realizing Geralt was living with you for the past few weeks, it wasn't hard to believe your perception of time got all messed up. Fuck, you felt like a dud. As you processed the information, colors faded from your face, your lips whispering one singular word.

"Jaskier?" - Geralt repeated with genuine surprise, letting out a huffy chuckle. - "What does Jaskier, of all people, have to do with all of this?" "Before he left to... God knows where, Jaskier told me he'd be back in Novigrad in early summer." - You admitted, trying to calm your anxiety down - your knuckles were running up and down your ribcage, hoping the dull pain would help a bit. Your breathing got heavy the moment you sat on your bed, almost as if you were about to faint. - "Promised he'd stop by. Fuck, how could I forget?" "Oh, have you two met recently? How's he doing? Mingling with the Novigrad's cream, I'd presume." "Don't play stupid with me, Geralt. We both know well that you smelled him as soon as you opened the door. Came the night you sent him out to look for me, that's when. Poor fool stumbled in dressed in summer clothes, almost froze on his way here." - You clarified, stretching out your neck. - "Why are you acting so weird about it anyway, had the two of you argued again?" "Did Jaskier mention anything?" "Now that I think about it, he didn't talk about you at all... Which is fucking weird." "I'll tell you about Caingorn later, Y/N. Let's just say I couldn't stomach him for a bit back then and... Yes. Almost forgot that happened." "No wonder you can't recall, Yenna had you wrapped around her pretty little finger... No offense." "None taken." "Geralt... I think... There's something we need to talk about." - The moment you opened this genie in a bottle, all the amusement and mischief left Geralt's expression. He followed in your steps, sitting on the bed beside you - carefully, Geralt took the palm you had on your ribcage, holding it in his. "Whatever's on your mind, I'm here to listen."

You spent the night clarifying the mess inside your head, detailing everything that happened, all you felt, and all the other conflicting thoughts and emotions. By the end of the monologue, Geralt was lifelessly staring somewhere next to you and you were in tears, assuring Geralt you loved him, as if it wasn't obvious enough already. His expression was unreadable, but at least he wasn't spiteful or enraged. There was a hint of tenderness in his eyes, but that was it. That was something, you guessed. It wasn't the clarity you were searching for and remotely near to the answers you wanted, but still... Something.

"What have you concluded?" - You whispered, staring at Geralt. His palm tightly held your upper thigh, forcefully drawing small circles into your skin, kneading it like dough. It was starting to hurt quite a bit, to be honest. You did your best to dry your tears, waiting for what Geralt had to say. "Well, isn't it quite obvious?" - His voice gave you goosebumps. It came across as lifeless and animated. You didn't know about Geralt's confusion with how you complicated things. You both knew you were in love, always knew you'd search for each other in the deepest ends of hell, and found each other no matter how many bones would Destiny throw at you. As long as you wouldn't be leaving him behind (the only thing Geralt was truly horrified about), there was no problem. Never in his life would he expect to be your only lover, just as you didn't expect to be his. - "Why don't you just cut the pain and tell him?" "Tell Jaskier what?" "That you're in love with him." - Geralt clarified as if his point couldn't be more comprehensible.

Everything from how he looked at you to the tone of his voice was enraging you, making you grit your teeth together and stand up, doing your best not to scream out loud. Why was he so calm? In all the romantic novels, the lovers would argue and clarify everything, promising undying love - instead, Geralt furrowed at you as if he wasn't fully getting your point. Before stopping yourself to try to understand the point Geralt was trying to get across, you were already screaming at him.

"So, this is how it all ends. The great, forbidden romance between the Witcher and the Priestess? Hm? Why did we defy the Destiny and the Stars for so long? Just for the fun of it? Just so you'd forget how Yenna always tosses you aside like an unwanted pup? We both knew that what we were attempting was hard and took a lot of time and patience, but I'm not willing to give up on it if that's what you think. I told you that I'm clueless because I know my heart's beating for you, moron. Every time you leave, I become restless. Sometimes, I get lonely and confused, wishing someone would be by my side. Every time you leave, a part of me leaves with you. I'm doing my best to fight it, but... I'm weak, my love. Jaskier... He... Showed up when I was going through the worst of it, this winter was slowly making me lose my mind. I held dying children in my arms, Geralt. People were starving, wolves tore people's limbs off, I had to take care of fingers that fucking fell off of someone's hand, and I helped newborn babies come into the world. I was burning out, crying myself to sleep every night, and here and there were even moments when I thought about just ending their suffering mys... Doesn't matter. Then, Jaskier appeared. He made everything better, helped me around, kept an eye on me, and distracted me whenever it was too much. I thought it was nothing - we had been friends for a long, nothing ever happened... I mean, you know how he gets, but that was it. And then, when he was leaving... A part of me left with him too. That was the moment I realized."

"Y/N, stop yourself and take a breath. What are you talking about? You don't have to explain or humiliate yourself because you think you've done something wrong." - Geralt reiterated immediately, standing up to match your actions. - "What kind of an end are you anticipating, wench?" "I just admitted that I've fallen in love with someone else, dim-wit. What else could it mean?" - You squealed back at him, crying again. Upon hearing what you've said, Geralt straightened up and chuckled, almost blowing your fuse off again. Just to be sure, he quickly closed the distance between you, smoothing strands of hair off your sweaty forehead, and drying your tears with his thumps before offering you a gentle, sweet kiss.

"Have I told you that you can be the most hot-headed, headstrong woman I know?" - The man whispered, kissing your cheeks ever so lightly to calm you down. "You've mentioned it here and there." - You nodded with your eyes closed, a relieved grin growing on your face. "Listen. If there was anyone who should apologize, it's me. I knew what kind of relationship I dragged you into, but selfish enough not to let you go. While I'm traveling the world, you're here, alone and..."

"Not true, come on. Haven't you heard I'm consoling Eist and Calanthé? Dijkstra is making me busy..." "That's not the point. You deserve a simple, good life with someone who loves you. If... If we weren't what we turned out to be, I'd do everything in my power to court you and make you the happiest woman on the Continent." - Geralt whispered while kissing your forehead, making your heart crack a bit. "But that's not what I am - it's not who you are either. Look at me." - Holding onto his palms, you looked him in the eyes. Now, Geralt looked truly anxious - his lips pressed together, eyebrows knitted, eyes narrowed, his fingers ghosting over your cheeks as if you were to crumble into dust if he truly touched you. There was the reaction you were looking for - now, it worried you to death. - "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do, Geralt. That's a given." "Then... I'm not in the right to judge you for falling in love with someone else. It's my fault I'm not here and it's not your fault you're alone. As long as you're counting on me, I trust you." - With that, the man brought you close to his chest, slipping his palm into your hair and other on the small of your back. - "If that's what you desire, I want to let you have it. Depends on whether he's feeling the same, but knowing Jaskier... Actually, I'm lucky it's him of all people." "What do you mean by that?" "Imagine you'd tell me you've fallen for Dijsktra. Or worse... Foltest." "Oh dear, can you imagine the travels? Yuck." - You laughed, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

"So, you are really not... Enraged or disappointed?" "If anything, I expected that we'd have this conversation sooner. Enraged? Not in the slightest. Being disappointed is up for debate - you could've fallen for anyone... And from all of the people of Novigrad, you chose this jester." "Come on, he's your best friend, you grumpy bastard. The two of you are so in love it pains me to watch you dancing around the topic instead of addressing it." "I know." - Geralt answered ambiguously, sending you a warm smile. To which part of the sentence the 'I know' belonged was unclear, but you figured it was an answer to all of it. Then, not addressing the admission, Geralt furrowed at you with jitters in his eyes. - "You're still saying that you're sure we're attracted to each other, wench? After all this time?" "The jury's still out... But I'm more or less positive." - There you were; the girl Geralt loved to death. The bright smile, the lusty look in her eyes, the heavenly smell... For a bit, he was worried he might lose you.

"So, you believe me, then?" - You asked, letting go of him so you could pour each of you a glass of wine. Your brain couldn't grasp the topic quite yet, especially since the conversation turned out entirely different than what you'd braced for. "Believe you what, precisely? That that the jury's still out? I know you well enough to believe you never let these things go easily." "Fuck off, you cunt-bitten brood. What I'm asking is if you believe me when I tell you I'm in love with both of you... And him?"

"Fine, let me put it the unpleasant way. For how long am I coming back home to you while still being allured by Yen?" "... A few years now." - You whispered in agreement, finally catching onto his point of view. Truthfully, you never tried looking at the situation from this perspective. The least you expected was for Geralt to either leave the cabin after you confess to him or to ask you not to do it. While going insane over what a horrendous hypocrite you might be, you never stopped yourself for long enough to piece this information together.

"While I know it pains you to hear it, I, of all people, know it's possible to be in love with multiple people at once." - Geralt admitted silently, accepting the glass you offered him. "But why him? That's what confuses me. We both know what an idiotic, restless charmer Jaskier is. I was sure I was making things up, noticing things that weren't real - but he managed to sweep me off my feet." "Can I ask you a personal question?" - Geralt wondered, making you chuckle upon hearing his words. He'd asked you a million personal questions before, why was he now asking for permission. "Of course you can, darling. If you're capable of asking me how I like it when I take your dick so well, why would you stop yourself?"

"Were you in love with anyone before that night? I don't mean fucking, Y/N. I mean feelings you'd describe as truly being in love." Well, you could understand why Geralt asked for permission. You've mentioned your time in Nilfgaard here and there, mainly when Geralt asked how your business with Djikstra and the Nothern Realms was going. You've also indirectly admitted to having a lot of lovers and sex while acting as Emhyr's consort... But he never asked you directly about anything in connection to Nilfgaard or anything you'd been up to during your separation. If there was anything you thought Geralt should know, you simply told him already. To answer his question, you had to think for a bit. There was one person who you were vulnerable around... But the 'L' word never slipped past your lips. As soon as you caught onto what unraveled in your chest, you panicked and cut ties with them. You told a few filthy little lies to see them leave the court, but you ensured he wouldn't hang them. They were just... Discharged.

It wasn't the right time and place - you weren't ready to fall in love back then. Your entire world revolved around war, politics, and ensuring you were one of the most dreaded generals of Emhyr's army and the commander of his private troops. Love and emotions were scary. That's why you never let people under your skin, rather charming everyone than being your genuine self with them. Until these two idiots showed up.

"No. The answer is... No." - You admitted. "And for how long were you seeing the other people? Now and back then?" "Not for too long, honestly. A couple months was the longest 'relationship' I can recall. Now that I think of it, the thought of falling in love and belonging to someone horrified me... Until you happened to me." "We're getting there... How long do you know Jaskier by now?" "Four... Maybe five years? Ever since we've met in the inn." "I think you just answered your question." "What do you mean?" "That's up for you to decipher, my dove." - Geralt sighed, gently kissing your temple before putting the empty glass away. - "I'll come across as a cock with what I'm about to say... But can we go to sleep now? I'm fucking tired and have to leave by dusk tomorrow." "Having a rendezvous at five sounds awfully like Dijsktra. This is what you get from agreeing to go on his little field trips."

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