#they have one brain cell and it belongs to Roach

[bluewritinghood]

Witcher! Watch out for that tree!

“You didn’t have to throw that guy through a table you know.” Jaskier says absentmindedly plucking at his lute as he walks beside Geralt down the dusty path.

“He was being an ass.” Geralt reminds him.

“Yes, well it did get us kicked out of the inn though so maybe not worth it?” Jaskier says still plucking at his lute more than likely trying to subconsciously perfect a tune that would soon make an appearance in one of his latest songs.

“He called you a cocksucking bastard.” Geralt reminds him gruffly. “I wasn’t going to let it go.”

“I mean it’s not the worst thing I’ve ever been called I could give you a whole list of insults a mile long that’s been hurled at me this year alone and never repeat the same one twice.” Jaskier laughs at his own expense.

Geralt offers an irritated grunt by way of reply.

“I mean it wasn’t even really an insult since it’s true, I mean half of it at least.” Jaskier says tuning his lute slightly.

“You were an illegitimate child?” Geralt asks surprised.

“Oh gods no. No matter how much my father would like to claim otherwise, I meant the first part. You didn’t know I was Bisexual?” Jaskier asks sounding genuinely surprised.

Geralt doesn’t answer, doesn’t say anything at all, doesn’t look away from Jaskier even as they approach an enormous tree in the road. But surely Geralt couldn’t miss it, its trunk was wider than his shoulders for heaven’s sake.

Geralt runs smack into the tree with a dull ‘Thunk’ stumbling backward.

“Good gods Geralt are you alright?!” Jaskier says jogging the few steps he had fallen behind Geralt to catch up with him and check on him. “How in the world did you miss that tree?”

“You’re into men?” Geralt asks instead of answering the question.

“Yes, I thought that was painfully obvious. Don’t tell me that’s why you ran into the tree it’s honestly not that surprising. I mean I’m kinda fruity.” Jaskier says with a laugh.

Geralt just stares at Jaskier until his smile fades.

“You’re not opposed to that sort of thing are you?” Jaskier asks suddenly a little worried that this of all the things might be what ends their friendship.

Geralt is a silent as a stone for a few minutes leaving Jaskier to wonder what exactly he would say if he ever said anything at all.

“No.” Geralt finally grunts out relieving Jaskier of his fears.

“Well that’s a relief.” Jaskier says with a nervous chuckle.

Geralt continues to stare at him until Jaskier finally asks. “What exactly is the problem then?”

Geralt finally stops looking at him only to start looking anywhere but at him. “I’m in love with you.” He mumbles.

“I’m sorry come again?” Jaskier guffaws. “Because I thought a certain sorceress occupied that stony heart of yours.”

Geralt shakes his head reverting back to his normal taciturn state.

“You’re telling me I’ve had a chance with you all this time and you’re just telling me now?” Jaskier asks voice raising an octave.

Geralt finally seems to get the message that his feelings are reciprocated because the next thing Jaskier knows he’s being pushed up against the tree and Geralt is kissing him.

Ao3 link to this story.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45596839

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 11

“Don’t speak for me, Duarte,” Cardan says.

“Don’t boss me around.”

Previous

Read chapter 11 on AO3 or read below:

“But, just, if I had the choice,” I say, “I would rather be apart from society.”

We’ve gone around and around a few different points by now. The latest one is the Ghost reminding me that, since betas are one in a thousand, there are only three hundred thousand in the United States, which is less than the population of Wyoming, and I don’t know anyone from Wyoming. They can and do seek each other out, but in a lot of ways, chemical and social, they’re separated from everyone else.

“Would you?” asks the Ghost.

“Well…” I trail off, thinking of the Bomb and the Roach and how they, very possibly, endured de-designation one way or another. I don’t think that’s something I want for myself, not seriously. Sure, I could do without all the complications of heat, but would I like to go through life with dulled senses, knowing most of the population was experiencing something I never would?

The problem isn’t really that I hate being an omega, it’s that I spent my whole life watching alphas, surviving alphas. Wishing I had what they had.

I look at Cardan, who’s been preoccupied with picking at dirt under his fingernails this entire time. He wears a mask of boredom. I know he’s listening, though. He’s good at playing dumb.

“I want to be like them,” I hear myself say. “No, I want to be better than them. That’s all. That’s what it is. And how am I supposed to be better when I’m—” I gesture at myself. I know I look better now than I did before, but I am far from my peak.

Regarding me steadily, the Ghost says, “There’s power in what you are right now, you know. There’s power in driving people crazy for you. A well-placed omega can ruin a political negotiation, a business merger, a marriage. Start wars.”

“Helen of Troy,” I interject. We all know how that went. “That’s soft power. But I don’t want—want…”

I shiver in my chair and hug my arms to my chest. Cardan’s voice is dark and low when he says, “I don’t think she’s up for this discussion.”

The Ghost gives him an odd look, and I say, “No, I’m fine. It’s fine.” I quash down panic; the meds shouldn’t be wearing off this soon, but there’s nothing I can do about it. “I don’t want soft power. I want to be taken seriously.”

“Well, you got us to take you pretty seriously,” the Ghost replies. “Cardan takes you seriously.”

I snort. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Don’t speak for me, Duarte,” Cardan says.

“Don’t boss me around.”

“I think that when you get to college, or at least out into the real world, you’ll find it’s very different,” the Ghost continues.

“I live in the real world,” I retort.

“No, you live in a bubble. A rich person bubble. When there aren’t as many expectations—when there are just normal people—alphas and omegas don’t have as much trouble with each other.”

I press my lips together so I can’t remind him that my mom married an alpha and it didn’t exactly end well. “But systems of oppression still exist. How many omega presidents have we had?”

The Ghost holds up a hand. “We’ve been over this. I’m not saying they don’t.” He pauses. “It wasn’t a kind thing Madoc did, sending you to Insmire.”

I blink at him. “How did you know—”

“Well, we did have to do our research on you.” He presses his lips together. “Cardan said you went to school together.”

“Oh, right.” I feel foolish, and also defensive. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan pick up his head. “Well, Madoc isn’t kind. I mean, he can be, but—he isn’t.”

“No,” the Ghost agrees. “If he was kind, he would have sent you to the best multi-designation or omega prep school there was. But he didn’t let you have it easy. From what I know of him, he wanted to teach you to fight, on all fronts. And from where I’m sitting, it worked. I bet your sister isn’t a pushover either. Your twin?”

I almost laugh, thinking about Taryn fistfighting anyone. But I guess we did both learn to lie pretty well. I shrug my shoulders.

“You’ve had the worst of it in high school with entitled rich kids. The real world is more balanced, and you’re more than ready for it.” He pauses. “And there is one more thing, but I don’t think you’ll appreciate me saying it.”

“Go on.”

“Mating.”

Cardan makes a choked sound.

“I don’t mean sex,” the Ghost says, with a glance at him. “I mean finding a mate. It’s something I’ve thought about, as someone who can’t have it. Sure, betas get to fall in love like everyone else, but we don’t get to have that… connection. That belonging.”

Neither Cardan nor I speak for a moment. We are both too busy looking at the ground. “It’s a lot of pressure,” I say slowly. “What if you pick the wrong person? How do you know?”

“You might.” The Ghost sits back in his chair, seeming to retreat back into himself. I have the feeling this is the most he’s spoken in one go for a long time. Then he says, “But what if you pick the right one?”

I open my mouth to reply when I am hit by another full-body shiver, and then my cramps return with a vengeance. I whimper and wrap my arms around my abdomen. “Ow.”

“She’s getting worse.” It’s Cardan who says it. He sounds newly panicked. “You have to help her. I can’t do it.”

The Ghost raises his eyebrows. “It’s okay for me to help her now?”

“Yeah, well, you were doing alright, keeping her distracted, so I guess you’re ready for more responsibility.”

I blink up at the Ghost, who’s already standing from his chair. “You were distracting me? How long has it been?”

“A good couple of hours. You like to argue.” He helps me out of my seat. “He’s not as stupid as he looks, is he?”

“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “No, he isn’t.” Standing takes most of my concentration, but I look back over my shoulder at Cardan, who’s rigid like he’s grown roots. His hands have a white-knuckled grip on the side of the chair. He nods at me, and I nod back at him and let the Ghost lead me away.

The door to our cell-room had been left open while we were talking around the table, so it’s no longer as stuffy. I let out a groan of relief when I sink down onto the mattress. My gross, terrible mattress. My itchy blankets. I am so happy to be back in a visceral way that I don’t quite understand. Because it’s my “nest,” I guess. I want to wrap myself up in the blankets and curl up in a little ball, but the Ghost is still standing here.

“We have to lock Cardan in with you at night,” he says quietly. He sounds apologetic. “Especially if it’s only me on watch. There won’t always be eyes on him.”

I shrug. “He hates me. I’ll be fine.”

The Ghost’s mouth presses into a thin line.

“Oh, what?” I scoff. “You’re taking your eyes off him right now.”

“Yeah, because I can feel his eyes boring holes in my shirt.”

I snicker. I have decided that as far as people who’ve shot me go, the Ghost really isn’t so bad. “Hey,” I begin, wincing through another cramp, determined to keep distracting myself. “Why are you doing this? The Bomb said she’s sticking with whoever you work for because she owes them. Same for you?”

“No,” he says flatly. “I’m too far in to get out.”

“That can’t be true. I mean, if you go to the police, bargain for immunity in exchange for testimony…”

He gives me a dour look that says I’m being incredibly naive. “Ask me whose house this was.”

I blink at him, wondering if the connection should be obvious and the fever is slowing down my brain. “Whose house… was it?”

“It was being built as a weekend home for someone’s mistress. It was never finished.”

“Why? What happened to her?”

He looks me over, withdrawing further into himself. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll get you more medicine. You should rest. The second half is going to be harder than the first.”

“It is?” I ask, my voice sounding small and pathetic, but he has already left.

---

I don’t remember much about the next twenty-four hours. Just flashes, impressions, snippets of conversation. People are in and out of the room, making sure my water bottle is full, replacing it if it isn’t, giving me pills, for all the good they do. At first it’s the Ghost, but eventually it’s the Bomb, which means she’s come back. My ears, straining to pick out Cardan’s voice through the closed door, hear the Roach’s laugh, so he’s returned too.

It’s a bad day. It doesn’t take me long to sweat right through my dress, and it takes even less time for my shorts to soak through. The medicine can’t keep my temperature in check anymore, only drive it down to a balmy one hundred. I am miserable, and I am bored. There is nothing for me to do but stare at the wall, and even if there were, I probably couldn’t focus on it. My head feels like it’s being weighed down by a bag of rocks. The only thing that seems fully awake and alive is my libido, spiky and insistent. I didn’t know it was possible to feel this sick and this aroused. Masturbation doesn’t help. Nothing helps.

I am aware of Cardan coming back into the room, hours later. I am aware of his footsteps on the floor, the sound of him sitting heavily on the floor. I get a fresh waft of lavender; he showered again before coming in. Even though I had been dozing and wish again to be unconscious, I do pick up my head to look at him.

“Hi,” I say.

He raises one hand in greeting. “Hey.” He looks less like himself than ever, pale and drawn and wilting, and his brows are drawn. But he’s still handsome. Even the paleness benefits him, setting off his dark hair. Like a vampire. I have the urge to press my mouth to the column of his neck again.

Instead, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Aside from everything?” Cardan sighs. “I don’t know. The Bomb and the Roach came back, but something is weird. They wouldn’t talk about it in front of me.”

“Oh,” I say. That should mean something to me, but it doesn’t right now. I can’t fit the pieces together.

He sighs again, a longer sigh this time. “And I’m feeling like a pretty shitty alpha,” he says.

“Why?” I ask, drawing my knees in tighter to my chest. “Because you haven’t boned me yet?”

Another strangled noise escapes him. I’m getting used to those little squawks. “One, never say ‘boned’ again. And two, no.” He sounds sullen. He rakes his hand through his hair. “Because I’m not taking care of you.”

My brain short-circuits. “What?”

“I talked to the Roach about it.” He pauses. “I mean… if we were paired up, if we were doing this on purpose, it should be me. I should be helping you. Instead I have to let other people do it.”

“But we’re not paired up, and that is taking care of me. In these circumstances…”

I trail off, and he shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It sucks,” I say, as if agreeing with him. “And it’s—I’m just scared.”

He tsks, tossing his hair out of his face. “Nothing scares you.”

I pull the blankets tighter around my shoulders. “That’s not true. I’m scared all the time. It’s why I’m so angry at everything, everyone. At myself.”

Cardan is quiet for a moment, then says, “I guess I get that.”

I wonder if he does. There is a lot I still don’t know about Cardan. “If the last year has shown me anything, it’s that I can’t control anybody else’s behavior. Locke. Taryn. Valerian.” I shift. “Just me. It’s just me. I’m the only thing in my control.”

He smiles, weakly. “Slow down, Hamilton.”

“It’s Burr. And that’s not the lyric.”

“Whatever. Nerd.”

My own smile is transient. “Anyway, now I’m not even in my control. Now I have to be afraid of myself. So that… it just sucks.”

“Yeah.” After another stretch of silence, Cardan asks, “Are you afraid of me?”

I don’t answer him right away. Because the answer, of course, is yes. Yes, I have been afraid of him for such a long time. Yes, I am afraid of what he represents, the power and the system set against me. Yes, I am afraid of the way he affects me, the things I want to do, the vulnerability in me.

But the answer, in some strange way, as we have languished in our cell, has also become no.

“I,” I begin, but then there is another urgent cramp, another painful jolt of arousal on its heels, and I groan. “Oh, god.”

Cardan’s eyes widen in alarm. “You don’t have to answer that,” he says quickly. “Just… just relax. Just chill. I’ll stay over here.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” I manage through gritted teeth, clutching my stomach. It is, of course, worse.

Trying to get comfortable, I toss and turn for ages, but I must fall asleep through the pain because the next thing I know, Cardan is gone again, and I am holding a scrap of soft cloth in my arms. On instinct, I bring it to my nose. It smells like Cardan, that musky smell he’s taken on in the last couple of days. Warmth bursts in my chests like a firework. It’s his shirt. He left his shirt with me. What is he wearing now?

It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I nuzzle the fabric. It is not exactly soft, a little grimy from lack of washing, but saturated with his scent. I am amazed at how my brain calms just from this one, simple thing. My horniness problem is not solved, though, so I slide my hand into my shorts to take care of it, my face still pressed to Cardan’s shirt. It muffles my cries when I come, but I’m honestly too far gone to care if I am heard. After I am finished, I wriggle out of my dress, pull the shirt over my head, and promptly fall back asleep.

I doze fitfully. Someone comes to replace the water bottle, which briefly wakes me long enough that I roll around for a few minutes before I’m out again. I don’t mind that the mattress is lumpy or that the blankets scratch my skin; whenever something begins to bother me too much, I stick my nose in the collar of Cardan’s shirt and breathe in, which is usually enough to soothe me.

I’m not sure whether I’m dreaming or awake when I feel someone press the bottle to my lips and say, “Drink, Jude.” It sounds like the Roach, or maybe Madoc. I open my mouth and manage a couple of swallows of water before putting my head back down and dragging the blankets up over my shoulders.

“Is she still asleep?” I hear Cardan ask. His voice is hushed. The smell of him doesn’t bother me so much now that I have his shirt, but I do scent him and groan softly, pressing my face into the pillow.

“Mostly,” says probably-the-Roach.

There’s a pause, then Cardan asks, “Can I do it?”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I know, but I want to help.” Something shuffles, like he’s kicked at the floor. “She’s only like this because of me.”

The Roach sighs, then says, “All right. Come over, but be careful.”

I hear Cardan’s footsteps on the floor, and then a hand pushes some of my hair off of my sweaty face, dragging down to skim my cheek. I lean into his hand. It feels so good to be touched.

“Jude, hey,” he says quietly. “Can you pick your head up a little higher for me?”

There’s something beneath his voice, a dark undertow that pulls me down. I find that I want to do what he says, which isn’t a remotely comforting thought. But I pick up my head, and he keeps one hand against my jaw as he tips the jug against my mouth. A little water trickles down my neck, wetting the shirt he lent me, but I swallow most of it down.

“That’s good.” He takes the jug away and sets it back down on the floor. I can hear the strain in his words, like he’s fighting with himself. “Really good.”

His hand finds my hair again, and I would do anything for him to just keep running his fingers through it, but then the Roach says, “I think that’s enough.”

Cardan disentangles his fingers from my hair and stands; I hear him step back. “It’s just so weird,” he says. “It’s weird to see her like this. She hates—she never asks for help. I’ve never seen her vulnerable.”

“Well, her body’s treating it like a sickness,” the Roach says. “But we’re looking out for her. Another, what, day or so? Less than a day? And she should be free and clear. And hopefully by then this will all be over and we can let you guys out.”

“Yeah.” There’s a pause, and then, “Thanks.”

The Roach chuckles. “Don’t thank me, kid. We kidnapped you.”

“I know, but.” Cardan hesitates. “Is it weird that in some ways I’d rather be here than home?”

“Pretty weird, yeah.”

“Yeah.” Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he asks, “Jude?”

I say nothing, do nothing. I want to keep eavesdropping. He wouldn’t be saying half of this if he thought I was awake. So I keep my breathing low and even, and let him say what he wants.

But he says nothing, and for a second I think he’s getting ready to leave me alone again. Then I hear him take a step—toward me—and his hand is briefly back in my hair. I feel warm lips against my forehead, soft and fleeting like the brush of a butterfly’s wings. I have to fight my every instinct not to lean up into the kiss and give myself away, but then his hand and lips are both gone. I hear the quick retreat of his footsteps, the closing of the door.

“It’s not fair,” I whisper to the empty cell. “You can’t just leave me with that.”

But he can, and he did, because he assumed I was asleep. He left me with the memory of a forehead kiss, with a whispered conversation to dissect, and a tingling feeling throughout my entire body.

“I hate you so much,” I say, curling closer around his shirt. There is no answer but my erratic heartbeat, drumming out a truth I am almost, but not quite, ready to hear.

Next

[aspiring-ginger]

Forget-Me-Not Ch. 2 (Jaskier x Reader)

Summary: (Y/n) finds herself coming to terms with being thrown into another world. Geralt and Jaskier learn how to take pictures.

Warnings: Actually I don’t think there’s any for this chapter

Word count: 1,622

Pairing(s): Jaskier x fem!reader, platonic Geralt x fem!reader (The Witcher)

A/N: This one’s a short and sweet at around 1.5k. I promise the next one will be a bit more exciting!!

Comments and feedback are always appreciated!

Taglist: @thunderdog8  @dreaming-about-starfleet  @dandelionwitcher @msmimimerton  @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​ @platinum-meadow33​ @le--petit--croissant​ @radicalcannoliqueen​ @emiwrites3reads​ @wackiekebab​ @sassyfandomwriter​ @whatawildone​ @belll29​ @scream-kiwi79​ @redsacrament​ @illegalplayer​ 

Masterlist I Previous I

You couldn't believe your eyes as you gaped at Geralt's hand. Fire flickered in Geralt's palm. Actual fire.

"Wow that's uh, wow… that's actual fire," You stated, staring dumbly at the flames.

Jaskier cleared his throat, "Alright Geralt, here's what we'll do. Hello! My name is Jaskier, bard and troubadour extraordinaire, and this is my wonderfully broody friend and your local witcher, Geralt of Rivia. See? Let's just start over fresh," Geralt nodded and closed his hand, extinguishing the flame. "Now just tell us who you are and where you're from, and we can get you on your way back home in a tick,"

"Um, I already told you. I'm (y/n) from (hometown). It's in the country of (country)....but if you just actually used Igni then I guess we're not even on earth anymore. It's the Continent, right?" You pulled your coat closer to you, getting chills as you slowly came to terms with being in a strange new land.

"I've never heard of the Kingdom of (country), but I'm sure it's not too far, right Geralt? Maybe it's way out east? Or south of Nilfgaard?"

Geralt shook his head, "No. She's not from the Continent. She's human, but not a mage. There's no way she could have gotten here on her own. Someone or something brought her here." He narrowed his eyes at you, looking you up and down for any sign of, well, anything.

"Where I come from, there's no such thing as magic. There's only humans, no mutated ones either. We don't have any monsters, just some dangerous animals. Elves, dwarves, magic, monsters- all that stuff is fantasy, like out of a fairytale."

"So you don't know of anything from your home that could have brought you here?" Jaskier asked.

"Um, no. We do have science. I guess it's closest to alchemy? But we don't have anything advanced enough for portals. We have all sorts of technology, though. Actually!" You fished around in your pockets for your phone, "Here I have this! It's my cell phone. It's like a… oh shoot what was that called... A xenovox? Xenogloss? And I guess also a megascope because it can let you talk to other people and see them too," You held your phone up and pressed the lock button to show your lock screen.

Geralt and Jaskier leaned in to get a closer look at your phone. "Here, see?" You unplugged your headphones and held your phone out to them, which Geralt gingerly took from your hands. Jaskier peeked over his shoulder. He turned it back and forth, examining the foreign object. He blinked in surprise when the screen went dark, flipping it over to see if he had broken something.

"Oh, it just does that. The screen turns off when it's not being used to save battery." The men in front of you furrowed their brows so you continued, “It runs off of electricity that’s stored inside the battery. Once the battery gets low, it needs to be recharged. There’s no magic involved.”

“So it’s used to communicate with others? Could we use it to get you back home?” Jaskier snatched your phone out of Geralt’s hands.

“Well...no. To contact someone they have to have a phone, too. And there’s no network here anyway, so it wouldn’t work. Umm..back home they have huge signal towers built that help pass the message across huge distances. Since there’s nothing like that here, I can’t use it. But it does more stuff, too! It can play music, take pictures, go on the internet, lots of other stuff?”

“Pictures?”

“Music?” Geralt and Jaskier asked at the same time.

“Uh yeah. Here, Geralt first.” You held out your hand and the bard gave your phone back to you. “See? Look.”

You held your phone out facing them and opened up your camera from your lock screen. The camera was facing out and only showed your shoulder, so you switched it to the front. Geralt and Jaskier stared at it.

“So, it’s just like a mirror?” Jaskier asked, waving a hand in front of your screen.

You held up a finger and flipped your phone back to you. You made sure your flash was off and held up your phone.

“Smile!”

Geralt furrowed his brows and Jaskier gave a nervous grin. You snapped the photo and showed them.

“See? It’s like having your portrait painted, but this is done instantly.”

Jaskier snorted, “Look, Geralt. Now you can see just how broody you are!” Geralt only nodded in response and continued to examine their picture.

You then went on to explain cameras and videos, giving examples and simple details where you could. Jaskier found it very silly when you attempted to explain snapchat to them, he thought it was strange to send pictures to communicate when writing or typing words was easy enough. Geralt saw the practicality in it. Sometimes, a picture is best when you can’t come up with the right words. After sprouting this wisdom, Geralt stood abruptly and began tearing down their makeshift camp. You kept Jaskier’s attention, continuing to mess around with your camera. Thankfully, your phone started out at 100% battery so at least you had some time with it before it became a useless brick. Once everything was away, Geralt cleared his throat.

“Oh, right!” said Jaskier, “We have to get going...but where exactly are we going now with (Y/n) here?”

“East.” Geralt replied.

“Wha- East? I thought we were making our way west?”

Geralt shrugged. “If we go east, we’re more likely to run into her.” He motioned for you to come closer as he held Roach’s reins.

“Her? As in the crazy witch Yennefer her? Geralt, come on! Surely you know of other sorcerers or sorceresses who haven’t completely lost their minds?” Jaskier sputtered.

Geralt ignored the Bard’s protests. Instead, he gestured at Roach once you were closer. You weren’t sure what he was getting at. Was he showing you his horse? You knew he was awfully protective of her.

“Get on.”

“Wait what?” You and Jaskier called at the same time.

“I said, get on. You’re likely still weak from your journey here and unused to the magic of my signs. You’ll slow us down, so get on.”

“I’ve been your friend for years now and you haven’t let me ride your horse once. A mysterious woman shows up out of thin air and you offer it to her like it’s nothing? Unbelievable.” Jaskier scoffed, half joking.

You looked at Geralt sheepishly. “I don’t know how to ride a horse. It’s pretty rare for someone to have one-” You were cut off when Geralt suddenly lifted you up into the saddle. You hadn’t even seen him move behind you. Guess that must be those witcher reflexes.

Geralt lead Roach with you perched on top. Jaskier assured you that should you fall off, he would come rushing to your aid. You travelled this way for quite a few hours. The road you were on was completely empty as you followed it out of the woods and through vast fields. You passed the time answering any questions your new companions came up with to the best of your ability. It took a lot of effort on your part to think of ways to explain the advanced technology of your home to them, especially when you had to keep clarifying and correcting your slang. Your legs and ass were sore and your mouth incredibly dry, yet you still felt...strange.

You still couldn’t believe any of this was real. When silence fell your brain tried to justify everything that had happened with a logical answer. But logic couldn’t explain the monster’s corpse or when Geralt used Igni. A part of you was terrified. Here you were in a foreign world full of monsters and magic that you knew almost nothing about. You didn’t know how to fight, you didn’t have practically any of your belongings with you, and you had no idea how you even got here. The world of the Witcher is incredibly dangerous, and you were thrown in head first. What about school? You still had finals to finish, homework to do. Your friends? Family? They’ll all think you’re dead. There’s no way to tell them that you’re alright, you just vanished! You felt awful knowing you left your loved ones behind. Although, a part of you was excited. It’s not your fault that you were stuck here, and it’s not like you could do anything about it so why not enjoy it? Hadn’t you always dreamed of quests and adventures? You were talking to your favorite characters. They were real, and interested in what you had to say. They were trying to find you a way home. Isn’t this something you could enjoy?

The idea of getting to know Geralt and Jaskier better was comforting. Despite the difficulty of explaining your technology, they had been very easy to talk to. Both were incredibly interested in anything you said, and they shared stories and explanations as well. Hours had passed and you were genuinely enjoying their company. So you decided that you felt excited. Everything good always starts out a little bit frightening, but it’s usually worth it in the end. Geralt and Jaskier were going to help you, and you would get to have an adventure along the way. You  confidently straightened your back and gripped the horn of your saddle a bit tighter. You were going to get through this, and it would be awesome. You just had to make sure you didn’t get killed or eaten by some crazy monster along the way. You were in the Continent, after all.

Taglist is open!

[tarithenurse]

If I succeed - 12

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x fem!Reader Content: Some bickering, holding back feelings, sarcasm and eye-rolling. Also a tad of monsters and violence. A/N: Thanks for the patience and support! I may have to slow my postings down the coming weeks as I’m picking up extra shifts at the ER to assist on the COVID-19 diagnosis and care. I’ll do my best to update on the WiP/master list as well as posting. Want a tag? Send an ask or reblog! I’d love comments and feedback – even if it’s corrections on language or whatever. I’m not picky as long as I know my work brings joy too.

12 – Nightmares in Daytime

...   Geralt   ...

“Hm,” the Witcher tells his horse, conveying all the annoyance saturating his cells, “y’need to keep an eye on them, Roach.”

The animal in question bumps him gently with the head as if to show that she accepts the responsibility and  understands her owners concern. Jaskier has been a fixed part of half of the horse’s life, and more often than not the lad gets himself into some sort of silly situation – though the risk of that is greater in the cities. But now? There are two. This is not to say that [Y/N] is cut from the same cloth as the bard, merely that she too lacks a certain understanding of the world and its darkness.

“Sweet talk vampires, pfft.”

“I heard that!”

At least no sound is created by rolling the eyes. Hmm. The seething tension burning into his back is easily ignored, Geralt’s attention focused on the surroundings as much as the narrow trail created by animals leading upwards.

Rising smoke marks their destination. Black. White. Purple. Each taint indicates a variety of nefarious purposes more than simple cooking fires or for heat or light – even a torch, when ignited properly, has a particular smoke. The smoke for a hot torch is thin and black, rising in silky tendrils to the cave ceiling above where it billowed briefly before dissipating along invisible divots and cracks, leaving a growing layer of soot behind. Their movements had disrupted the momentary remnants of the flame after it had flared as greedily as his own lust. Like a fire, the feverish desire had spurred him on as he found [Y/N] willing, responding perfectly to his every ministration with a simultaneously strong but pliant body. And afterwards...afterwards he had felt her fall asleep, listened to her breathing calm while she was tugged against him safely. An image of a wild flower nestled in a sunny spot by a shielding rock had flashed through his mind – perhaps, he thought for a moment, even someone as hard as him can belong with someone.

He had wanted to ask her in the morning, but he dallied for too long as he lay there inhaling her scent. The quiet moment had come and gone. Not a word was exchanged although it was on the tip of his tongue. More than once, he had thought that [Y/N] was about to say something, her movements halting and mouth opening slightly only to be closed with a sigh. Every minute brought the events of the night further away, making it harder to believe that it could all have been more than a moment of weakness if it indeed had happened at all. A slip where she had given in to the urges of the flesh after the physicality of the sparring.

A sound breaks the Witcher’s brooding: “Are we there yet?” Jaskier calls out softly – not out of boredom but worry.

A few hours. “Hm.”

“Hold on then,” the strong-willed woman halts them all, “let’s go over it while there’s time, Geralt.” He does not like the sarcasm in her voice but turns anyways to see her scurry past Roach’s hind. “Tell us, oh Witcher, what your plan is if it isn’t to avoid the people of Toussaint be slaughtered?”

Only Roach seems to react to the low growl coming from the Witcher’s chest, her ears flattening and eyes darting every witch way to find the possible threat. He notices. Stopping the sound, he softly pats the mare’s neck to soothe her, but his gaze is locked in a silent battle with [Y/N].

“When I agreed to let you come along, it wasn’t to have you question everything I say or do,” Geralt bites at her.

“You didn’t let me come along, and you know it.” Shorter than him, the woman stares unwavering up into his face. “Besides...someone’s gotta make sure you don’t just create a fight and get yourself hurt. Again.”

There is a small sound coming from Jaskier, a little chuckle perhaps that he swallows right as it is about to tip over the lip. Hmm.

The silver-haired fighter has always prided himself of fighting smart by using the environment to his advantage and gathering all the information needed before confronting the enemy whenever possible. The incident with the wyvern attack that eventually brought them to the threshold of [Y/N]’s home once more is not a typical example of how his work is done. I’m glad though. Unwilling to share that particular piece of information at this moment, Geralt bites the inside of his cheek.

“I wouldn’t...there’s always a plan!” Geralt sighs, brows pinched. “There’ll be no rushing in or needless fights, and no, I’m going to keep at a safe distance from the wyverns if possible...this time I know they’re there.”

...   Reader   ...

Of course, you sigh inwardly as the shadows condense before you, of course this happens when Geralt is off scouting ahead.

Whatever you had imagined of a vampire, this was not exactly it. Monsters are supposed to be less like humans and more like creatures wrought from pure evil even if there are plenty examples of monstrous people in the history books. This bloodsucker? He would fit right in at the Toussaint court. Perfectly tailored clothes in deep red silk and velvet contrasted by silvered embellishments that strike an echo in his otherwise dark eyes, yes, even his blond hair helps distract from the sallow greyness of the skin. Momentarily, fear is an unknown factor to you as your mind wavers under the spell of his gaze.

“Oh, hello there m-” Jaskier’s greeting somewhere behind you is interrupted a heartbeat before you hear his body hit the ground.

The vampire before you says something in a grating, foreign language, receiving an answer – no, two – that makes a smirk grow enough to reveal a fang. Oh. Not good. A swarm of self-chastising thoughts barrage your brains, battling with the urge to either run or fight the disdainful figure in front of you. Fear might have been slow at presenting itself but now it fills your guts with icy lead in a rush capable of knocking the feet out from under anyone. I gotta get away!

“Please, pretty lady, let me chase you.”

You understand two things then. One is that the vampire’s voice by nature sounds like flint sliding against flint, the other knowledge – which intangibly more dreadful – is that there is nowhere you can flee before he inevitably catches you. Whatever he may have planned now will surely worsen if you try.

Jask? I can’t leave him anyways. Spinning around, you try to find the bard but gentleman monster wraps his cold fingers around your throat. Struggling is futile, the controlled grasp presses expertly against veins and windpipe, making the world spin and blur into darkness. The last thing visible is someone picking up The bard’s lifeless body.

[unknowncitzen]

Danger by Design Checklist

□ Get in there and meet Minette (and be prepared to duck!) □ Check out the list of chores that Heather left for me on the computer at my work station □ Pick up that envelope from JJ Ling (Metro stop: Place Monge) □ Pick up those fabric photos from Dieter von Schwesterkrank (Metro stop: Rue du Bac) □ Make Minette her tea before her brain cells start misfiring or something □ Go to Square du Vert Galant park and buy four ‘things’ for Minette that have the same basic qualities as the ‘stuff’ she has in the centre of her studio □ Fix the plotter (whatever that is) □ Check out EVERYTHING in the Moulin where Minette works for possible clues as to why she’s receiving those threats □ Give the envelope I picked up from JJ to Heather □ Take a good look around JJ’s place. And remember, you can tell a lot about people by what they read □ Hole up in Dieter’s dark room and get those prints made! □ Take the fabric photos I developed at Dieter’s to Jean Michel Traquenard (Metro stop: Hotel de Ville) □ Go to the computer at my work station, log in as Minette, then beat her highest score on that computer game she’s obsessed with so she’ll get her mind back on designing clothes □ Figure out what name Minette uses to log in on that online computer game she won’t stop playing □ Follow the instructions by the folder on the work table and put together summer, cruise, and fall outfits for Prudence Rutherford □ Go tell JJ to get over to Minette’s, now □ Make those mint chocolate chip cookies for JJ so she’ll report to Minette and Minette can finally get some clothes designed □ Go get some mint for that cookie recipe of JJ’s □ Head to the flea market in the park, buy a stuffed parrot, and give it to Heather □ Ask Dieter about the obituary and that clock thing that fell out of his pocket in the park □ Find all the roaches that are loose in Minette’s studio and put them back in the box they came in without squishing any of them □ Confront Heather about that threatening letter she sent to Minette and see what she says □ Now that you have her phone number, call that historian Lynn Marique, and pump her for information about Noisette Tornade □ Try to find out the meaning of Noisette’s last words: ‘red left… green’ □ Ask Dieter if he’s related to the Hans von Schwesterkrank who was Noisette Tornade’s boyfriend during World War II □ Use Dieter’s camera and take pictures of all the things on his list so he’ll answer some questions! □ Check my desk for any new assignment □ Use that little clock key thing that Dieter dropped to open the panel by the bookshelf □ Open the panel at Dieter’s with that clock key again and try to get all the clock faces to match the one on the key before the timer runs out □ Explore the passageway that opened up at Dieter’s □ See what, if anything, that grid I found in the tunnel off Dieter’s studio is good for □ Figure out what numbers to dial into that lock that’s on the wall at the end of the tunnel off Dieter’s studio □ Check out the book I found in that locked compartment. Odds are it belonged to Noisette Tornade □ Take Deiter’s camera back to him and tell him I took pictures of everything on his list □ Figure out the significance of the card with all the eyes on it that Dieter gave me □ Call Zu, the Parisian spelunker, and see if he knows anything about that nut-like symbol I saw at the end of the secret passageway off of Dieter’s studio □ Somehow get JJ to write, ‘Zu my love Jing’ □ Take the ‘autograph’ I tricked JJ into giving me and put it in that skull in the catacombs like Zu told me to □ Call Zu, tell him I delivered the autograph, and see what he has to say about that symbol I saw □ Get a wetsuit, since Zu said I’d need one in order to reach the place where he saw the ‘noisette’ symbol □ Follow Zu’s directions and head down the secret passage he told me about □ Put on your wetsuit, take a deep breath, and swim underwater until you get to the other side of the flooded tunnel □ Look around on the other side of the flooded tunnel for the ‘noisette’ symbol that Zu saw □ Figure out what numbers will open the compartment at the end of that flooded tunnel that has the inscription about Europe, Pont Neuf, Blanche Neige, Chateau Rouge (I KNOW I’ve seen those words before…) □ The thing with the vanes that you found must be good for something -- find out what! □ Go back to the park and trade Monsieur Marchand that bottle I found underwater for his M380 decoder □ Ask Jean Michel if there’s an uncropped version of the picture of Minette’s studio that was in Glam Glam, one that includes those stone disks before they were splattered with paint □ Set the dials on the M380 decoder to the positions indicated by those big stone disks that I saw in the picture Jean Mi showed me □ Now that I know the grill I found and the card Dieter gave me go together, figure out which eyes are relevant, then see what message they create □ Figure out the significance of ‘Sous Lorraine 4 1 5 4’ □ The secret compartment I opened on the Cross of Lorraine statue must contain clues to something. Figure out what! □ Put the mouths of that statue in the correct positions □ Find a way to keep that pesky squirrel from jumping on the handle of that windmill statue every time my back is turned and undoing everything □ Turn the crank on the windmill statue until the coloured vanes are in the correct positions □ Figure out how that fish statue fits into the grand scheme of things □ Explore the passageway that opened up when I turned on the fish fountain in the park □ Open that chest I found at the end of the tunnel that leads away from the park and see what’s in it □ Figure out what to do with that key I found in the passageway off the park □ Type something that’s been encoded (something in that codebook of Noisette’s I found, maybe?) into the M380 decoder and see what happens □ Noisette went to a lot of trouble to conceal the message that I decoded using the M380, so it must be very important. Figure out what it means! □ Determine what the deal is with those coloured disks that are hidden away in the centre of Minette’s studio □ Explore the passageway that opened up when I arranged those coloured circles in the centre of the moulin □ Figure out how to open that door at the end of the passageway I opened inthe moulin. I’m getting close, I can feel it! □ See what’s in the room at the end of the passageway! □ The bunker lock mentions a ‘cher ami’ or ‘old friend’, which is probably the M380 decoder. Set the dials on the M380 decoder to be the same as on Noisette’s letter, write the numbers 380 below each letter in the phrase ‘UNE DERNIE RE ENIGME CHER AMI’ and repeat until there are no more letters. ‘Shift’ each letter the amount below (e.g., U is shifted 3 characters to be X, N is shifted 8 letters to be V, E is shifted 0 letters to be E, D is shifted 3 letters to be G, etc.), and then type in the resulting string in the M380 decoder □ Get to a phone and tell the authorities about that stained glass