#this is what the yenralts want right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bambirex · 1 year ago

Text

Maybe Loving Is Sharing: Chapter 9

Pairings: Geraskefer, Geraskier, Yenralt, Yennskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold, Vesemir, Lambert, Eskel, Coen

Additional tags: genderbending, alternate universe- modern setting, polyamory, matchmaking, pining, mutual pining, unrequited love, or is it?, friends to lovers, awkwardness, fem!Geralt, fem!Jaskier, bunch of helpless sapphics, everyone is confused, crushes, disability, emotionally constipated yennefer of vengerberg, oblivious geralt of rivia, oblivious yennefer of vengerberg, oblivious jaskier, everyone is fucking oblivious, insecurity, misunderstandings, lack of communication

Rating: mature

Full word count: 15,300 words

Chapter word count: 1,971 words

Chapters: 9/16

Summary: The plan is simple: help your best friend get together with the girl of her dreams. What could go wrong?

Well, when everyone is confused and pining but also very oblivious, pretty much everything.

Chapter summary: Jaskier and Geraldine have a conversation, which takes an unexpected turn. Yennefer attempts to move on.

Author's notes: Yeah I did not forget about this either! There's plenty more confusion and idiocy in store.

Read on Ao3

It was during her last class when Jaskier heard the familiar sound of Geraldine's motorbike outside. Jaskier peered out the window, and indeed, there she was, unmounting her bike. Jaskier swallowed heavily at the sight of Geraldine's leather pants pulling tight over her firm, shapely bum. Geraldine took off her helmet and shook out her unruly silver hair. Jaskier stared at her, transfixed.

"Miss Pankratz?"

Blinking rapidly, Jaskier returned from her Geraldine-induced bleary state and turned back to her students, who stared at her in confusion, clarinets still in hand.

"Ah, sorry," Jaskier mumbled. "Got a little distracted. Eh, we still have like ten minutes left, right? How about I let you go earlier today?"

Naturally, her students didn't seem to mind. Jaskier would have yelled at them to treat their instruments with a bit more respect instead of shoving them in their bags so carelessly any other time, but her brain was too occupied with Geraldine. Which was a problem, since she's just told herself she would stop looking at her that way- as something she could never be.

Geraldine waited until the last student left the classroom then stepped inside with a small, cautious smile. The sight of her shifting from one foot to the other, teeth pulling on her lower lip nervously reminded Jaskier so much of the day she came there to ask Jaskier to play matchmaker. Jaskier sighed at the memory.

"Hey," Geraldine greeted her softly. "You're done for today?"

"Yeah. Had to send them home a little earlier, you know how fidgety kids can get."

Geraldine hummed. She stared down at her shoes as she crossed her arms over her chest. The frown between her brows deepened. Jaskier resisted the urge to kiss it off her face.

"Is something wrong?" Jaskier asked softly. "Did you... speak to Yennefer?"

"Not much," Geraldine admitted. "She's being a little distant, again."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Look," Geraldine finally lifted her head to look into Jaskier's eyes, "can we talk?"

"This sounds alarming," Jaskier admitted with a chuckle. "Did someone actually die this time?"

"What?"

"Forget it," Jaskier waved a dismissive hand. "How about we meet up at my place? I don't feel like having a clearly distressing conversation in my classroom, again."

Geraldine nodded. She raised a helmet, and Jaskier couldn't help but grin when she realized it was the helmet that Geraldine always lent her when she whined to her about wanting to ride her motorcycle. It was pink with tiny kittens on it, and Geraldine bought it specifically for her.

"I was gonna take you, anyway," Geraldine told her. She reached for Jaskier's hand. When their fingers touched, Jaskier's heart jumped inside her chest, filled with unnecessary, stupid hope. Her cheeks felt warm as Geraldine led her outside by the hand.

Having to sit behind Geraldine on her bike and wrapping her arms around her firm middle certainly wasn't helping Jaskier on her mission of forgetting about her feelings for her friend. Yet, she couldn't resist putting her chin up on her shoulder as they rode away.

Once they were inside Jaskier's flat, Geraldine's nerves seemed to return. She sat stiffly on Jaskier's couch, fiddling with one of Jaskier's stuffed animals. She twisted the soft little turtle in her hands, her knees bouncing nervously all the while. Jaskier dreaded the talk that was ahead of them.

"What is it?" She asked as she sat next to Geraldine. "You're scaring me."

"I don't know how to tell you," Geraldine admitted. She petted the plush turtle's head with a sigh. "I wish I was like you."

"Like me?"

"More communicative. You always say what's on your mind."

"Not always," Jaskier whispered. If that were true, she would have confessed her feelings to Geraldine already, but she was too chickenshit to do that.

"Still. You're better at things like that than I am."

"It's okay, Geraldine. Take your time."

Geraldine took a deep breath. She only looked at Jaskier from the corner of her eye as she said, "I'm in love with Yennefer."

It wasn't a surprise, obviously. Geraldine has been head over heels for that woman since she's first laid eyes on her, but somehow, Jaskier's chest still tightened like someone just stepped on her ribcage. It was one thing to draw conclusions from looking at her behavior, and another one to actually hear the words leave her mouth. And while this was exactly why Jaskier decided she would try and accept her place as only a friend, it still broke her heart, just a little bit.

And as messed up as it was, she didn't only hate hearing this because this meant she officially lost Geraldine, but because she lost Yennefer, too.

She forced a smile onto her face as she patted Geraldine's knee.

"I know that, you big sap. And I'm pretty sure she feels the same way. Seems like my matchmaking is paying off, eh?"

She was utterly confused by the wounded look Geraldine gave her.

"I don't know," she said quietly, "I don't know if she feels the same. She's acting weird again. Like, since our last date. Or whatever it even was."

"Yeah, she has a tendency to do that. But, since you managed to say the magic words out loud to me, now you just have to say them to her as well, and I'm sure the ice will break."

"Maybe," Geraldine bit her lip. She looked at Jaskier, and was that a blush on her cheeks?

"My family said I should be more honest about my feelings. That communication is the key."

"Yeah, well, you're getting there," Jaskier smiled. "Look at you, Miss I never want a relationship. You're ready to marry Yennefer already!"

"This isn't just about Yennefer."

Jaskier raised an eyebrow in question. "What do you mean this isn't just about her?"

Geraldine was never quite good with eye contact - it was rare she held it up for more than a few seconds. But now, she looked deeply into Jaskier's eyes, so deeply in fact, that it suddenly felt like she was staring right into her soul. The air was heavy around them. Jaskier felt short of oxygen.

"I don't want to lose you," Geraldine told her, her voice honest, pained. "I wouldn't survive if I did."

"Hey," Jaskier said softly as she reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "You could never lose me. Not in this lifetime, that's for sure."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Okay, now you're really scaring me," Jaskier admitted, her heart hammering inside her chest nervously. "Geraldine, please, tell me what's wrong."

Geraldine swallowed audibly. She stared at Jaskier again, before her eyes flickered to her lips - and stayed there. Jaskier was about to ask what was wrong, again, but she never had the chance as Geraldine moved towards her, and pressed her lips against Jaskier's.

For a second, Jaskier was certain she died and went to Heaven, or at least was experiencing a beautiful dream. Because this couldn't have been real, that Geraldine's slightly chapped but still so soft lips were on hers, that her strong hands where on her thighs. There was no way she tasted coffee on Geraldine's breath, and she felt her hair tickling her face.

The memories of that one kiss from all those years ago flooded Jaskier's brain. She never would have thought she would ever experience it again, that their sloppy, drunk make-out session would repeat itself. But here they were, kissing on her couch with Jaskier's stupid plush turtle trapped between them, and they were sober this time.

Jaskier's hands flew up to tangle in Geraldine's hair, pulling her closer, holding on desperately. She may have whimpered into the kiss when Geraldine gently squeezed her leg. This was everything Jaskier wanted, what she's been craving for years, and she got it. Her dream came true.

So why did she suddenly pull away then, breaking the kiss with a horrified gasp?

It was because that dreamy teenage-like crush was smothered by logic, at last. Because Jaskier did promise herself she would extract herself from the Geraldine-Yennefer equation, and now here she was, kissing Geraldine back. That kiss... as good as it was, it couldn't be real. Because Geraldine just confessed to her that she was in love with Yennefer, so the only reason she kissed Jaskier was because she was looking for a stand-in. Geraldine even said it herself that she wasn't sure of Yennefer's intentions since she was acting so distant again, so she must have kissed Jaskier because her highly-strung emotions made her react irrationally.

"This is a mistake," Jaskier whispered, her voice choked up as frustrated tears started welling in her eyes. "I should not come between you two."

"Jaskier," Geraldine's voice was full of pain, and if Jaskier dared to look into her eyes, she would have probably seen they were too. "I don't think you understand..."

"No, no, I understand just right," Jaskier sniffled. "You're not sure Yennefer feels the same way, so you need something to take your mind off of her."

"What? That's not why I..."

"We promised each other we wouldn't repeat last time," Jaskier continued quietly, "that kiss. It was good. And this was good, too, but... you and Yennefer, you belong together. I don't fit into that picture."

She stood abruptly from the couch, knocking the plush turtle off. It rolled on the floor, staring up at her with a grin that now seemed mocking. Jaskier suddenly wanted to kick it.

"Jaskier," Geraldine whispered, "please, I'm trying to..."

"Get over Yennefer, I know. But you don't have to. I'm sure she feels the same way. Go, tell her. It's time for you to be honest."

"Jaskier..."

"Actually," Jaskier bit down on her lip hard, trying to will the ugly sobs to stay inside, "can you leave now? I forgot I have this, uh, important stuff to do. I'll text you later."

She barely saw Geraldine leaving through the tears. She heard her muttering something under her breath, then the door closing.

Jaskier looked down on the plush turtle on the floor. Tears streamed down her face as she gave in to the urge and kicked it as hard as she could, sending it flying over to the other side of the room.

Then, she sat down on the floor and started sobbing harder than she's ever done before.

She was such a pretty girl, and very eager, too. Her name was Chiara, if Yennefer remembered right. She smelled like vanilla and her hair was soft beneath Yennefer's fingers. Her sighs against Yennefer's lips sounded so lovely.

Her body was gorgeous, too, and she looked so good crawling over her on the bed with that teasing smirk. It was even more perfect when she dipped between Yennefer's spread legs, at last.

She was also very good with her tongue.

Yet, it was somehow all wrong. When Yennefer looked down on Chiara moving between her legs, she imagined silver hair, then brown. She imagined Geraldine's soft grunts and Jaskier's needy whimpers. Somehow, that way, the whole experience was a lot better. Yennefer closed her eyes and let the fantasy take her away, into Geraldine and Jaskier's arms, where her heart kept pushing her to.

She swore under her breath, hands fisted in the sheets. Not from the pleasure like she hoped, but from the sheer irritation she felt.

Yennefer was a strong-willed woman. If she put her mind to something, she would go through with it, no matter what.

So why couldn't she forget about those two morons? Why did they consume her every thought, why didn't they let her move on?

She looked down on Chiara again, and sighed.

Maybe she didn't have the ability to move on, but she could at least try and pretend to.

#geraskefer #geraskier #yenralt #yennskier #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #genderbending #fem!geraskefer #fem!geralt #fem!jaskier #maybe loving is sharing

8 notes · View notes

phvntom-limbs · 1 year ago

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @scary-monsters <3 ty ily

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 6! One for The Witcher and 5 for JJBA.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 6,498 <3 So few!!! For now <3

3. What fandoms do you write for? JJBA, One Piece and maybe a few others in future. Buuut mostly those two right now. Even if the OP shit is unreleased. And Resident Evil!!! Hopefully soon.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Well this is sorta easy with only 6 works in total. BUT. His Sweet Kiss (Geraskier fluff), Letters from a lover (compilation of short letters from characters), If I could be with you tonight (Gyro angst), Ties that Bind (Dio fic...... that I uhhh,,, haven't continued. Whoops) and Phantom Pains / Fleurs Captives (Diabeth angst) !!!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I do try to! I don't get them very often, mostly because I'm only recently getting back onto writing platforms. But I do try to. I like people who enjoy my works to know the support is appreciated.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Definitely Phantom Pains. Out-of-the-blue Diabeth angst ending in grief and regret... I do love writing angst and I don't shy away from sad endings either! Although I do love a good happy end too <3

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Speaking of.... His Sweet Kiss is definitely the happiest one, at least so far. My lost-to-time fics from the Wattpad era weren't exactly happy, so I think a fluffy mess like HSK is the best right now.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not yet. Yet. It'll happen eventually I'm sure.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do! I have yet to publish any of it, though. Mostly because I am incredibly picky when it comes to smut, and by extension incredibly finicky with my own smutty works. As for what kind? Ah... a mix.

10. Do you write crossovers? I don't. I don't even think I'd necessarily consider it for anything other than a crackfic.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I have not! But I have had people copy my writing suspiciously closely.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I have not, but I would be honoured if someone offered to, and I hope that at some point I'm fluent enough in another language to do so myself.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have not. I'm semi-open to the idea of it, but also... kind of sounds stressful.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Ahhhh..... Geraskier held my heart for a very long time. I'm also a YenRalt truther, though. I struggle a little to compute ships nowadays but I think Dinopants is really fun. and Satosugu.

15. What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Oh god, the Dio fic I started and then never continued. It was meant to be a look into Diabeth over the years but I changed a lot of things since I started it, so I may have to scrap the whole thing and restart.

16. What are your writing strengths? Description. I love describing things and spaces and people more than anything and I think that love has lead to a lot of practice. I can be a little flowery at times but I don't particularly mind it. It's not for everyone, though.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Dialogue. I never know how much to have people say or not say. It's something I need to practice. On the flipside, sometimes I have characters say too much and then I completely neglect action. I just need to get better with it all-round.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I do it! And I respect other writers who have the balls to do it (and potentially cock it up). I tend to check, and double/triple check it.

19. First fandom you wrote for? If I'm being honest it was probably Skullduggery Pleasant, back before I even knew Fanfiction was a thing. And I read it out in front of my class at the time. I think I was about 10.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Honestly? Every since I wrote Phantom Pains it's been my pride and joy. I really love my use of description and imagery and tone in that one specifically. I just really love it.

I don't have anyone to tag.... that Kat didn't already tag. So take this as a free ticket to join in should you wish to <3

#honey bats extended universe #not writing #I love tag gamesss AAAA #ty Kat for tagging me I love being included I hope u have fun w my answers ily

3 notes · View notes

livebloggingmydescentintomadness · 2 years ago

Note

henry did all of s3 right? (idk why its being broken up into 2 parts) but first ep in and and i reminded me how much i missed my ciri/geralt moments so much ah :'( have u watched the first ep, what do u think?

oh yes, he's in all of s3, and also did 100% of his stunts and a ton of the fight choreography as well. :) oh i know, aren't they fucking precious?

yes, i just finished ep 1! i would've liked to binge as soon as it came out, but i had a couple busy/insomniac days that delayed me. honestly i'm thrilled with it except for one big sticking point, which is that i just... ugh, i just fucking hate twn yenralt.

like, nothing against the actors or even the characters; individually, and with ciri, they're great. but every time it turns to the romance between them, i hate it. i've hated it since s1, but now they're really pushing it hard, and i hate it more. it feels so inauthentic.

like, they were pretty much fuckbuddies who hated each other in s1, and yen was understandably furious about the djinn wish/geralt betraying her. in s2, geralt was understandably furious about yen betraying him. (and don't get me started on how finding out the supposed love of your life is DEAD should do more than make you look upset for a few seconds, or how you're not that willing to consider killing the love of your life for betraying you.) it's like... where's the foundation for their relationship? the fact that they had great sex and fought a lot? where is yen's sudden adoration and desire for geralt coming from? it just doesn't feel like YEN when she's being so lovey-dovey all of a sudden. yennefer of vengerberg is not lovey-dovey.

i think i'm just a "show, don't tell" person when it comes to romance. i can't buy a relationship where the characters say they want or love each other but we're not shown them actually having something real between them. like, you can't show me s2's yen choosing to betray geralt to get her power back and then expect me to believe she loves him just because of the words she's saying.

ugh, idk. i love love love geralt x ciri, jaskier x ciri, and geralt x jaskier, and yen x ciri is pretty good, the action is great and the story interesting, but the harder they try to make me ship yenralt the more i hate it. >:(

#the witcher #wank for ts #anonymous #ask

5 notes · View notes

supercupcakecollector-love · 2 years ago

Text

Changes/ things in season 3 that I disliked

the positive season 3 post I made if you would like to read that as well or instead I will be adding both to that post and this one when part 2 comes out

no im not going to talk about the goddamn costumes, everybody has, I agree and im sick of seeing it they look cheap and bad, they need more color they need to look somewhat period appropriate, moving on

We got alot of amazing bonding moments with Ciri and Yennefer but I wish they would have kept the scene where she saved Ciri from the Wild Hunt. We already got lots of Geralt Ciri bonding moments, we needed as much stuff with Yen being Ciri`s mother as we could possibly get and that was one of the best scenes,

(side note of the stuff we did get while I appreciated and “ my ugly one” scene it felt very random and out of place especially with how dolled up they made Freya look, she didnt need to have any makeup on I would have liked to see her more tomboyish look from the books)

TWN usually knocks casting out of the park but Robbie Amell as Gallatin felt so out of place with his acting and trying to hide his accent, and much like the problem with blood origin looks nothing like the other elves and his scar is barley noticeable

I knew he was going to die from when I heard they were going to use an original character instead of Isengrim or Iorweth they really did learn from the Eskel incident. while I didn't like his character his death leads to some amazing character stuff with Cahir, grappling with his sense of self and loyalty to Emhyr since they need to have another reason why he changes sides later because of the age gap between him an Ciri in this version

Dijkstra here just doesn't feel like Dijkstra

normally I don't really care if a character doesn't look exactly like their book counterpart, but Dijkstra being a huge imposing pigish man is part of his character, Graham McTavish isn't doing a bad job, there are a few good scenes and he has good chemistry with Cassie`s Philippa but he just doesn't have the right sarcasm, snark and attitude for the character, even their dynamic is off they’re equally stubborn, arrogant, conniving, and equally think they’re the one dominating the other , book and game Dijkstra stole every scene he was in and was one of my favorite characters this version is mostly boring

( sidenote but I didnt mind the whipping scene it was clearly not meant to be sexual or that they are in a sexual bdsm relationship but that Dijkstra is a Flagellant and that its a stress coping mechanism they engage in as they must trust each other in the underground world)

Tissaia and Vilgefortz being lovers and Tissaia`s seemingly ooc behavior

now to be fair with the intrigue aspect of this season I think they might do a bait and switch with this either Tissaia Is acting this way to lead him on and try to stop him, or Vilgefortz has control over Tissaia in some way ( he is arguabley the most powerful mage in the world even if she also is)

either that or they put them together so it makes more sense for her to side with him/ Nilfgaardian since they established her as much more an active in this version and not just someone wanting to remain “neutral” like in the books

I just hope that her “ending” has as much impact as it should considering what an important character they made her

Episode 5 is a mixed bag

while there were definitely things that I loved about this episode like the tender yenralt moments and the use of dialog from the book, as well as the concept of the framing device from the book, but it got way too repetitive in parts, the Valdo song was fun but it overstays its welcome

this episode reminds me of the Leverage episode “ The Rashomon Job“ while that episode changed things things up every time it went back and told the story from another characters point of view this one doesn't do anything all that creative with it, and your stuck watching a bit of the same exact scenes over and over again with slightly more information

I imagine this episode will work better when the full season out and we see what its all building up to

and I said I wouldn't mention the costumes but, the ball was the one time the consumes had to be really stunning, where is all the color, its so dull looking, why do they look like they are doing a red carpet event in the 90s

and I didn't think it was possible to make Anya look anything less than stunning but this is by far Yennefer’s worst look, it bothered me more than any other visual in the season, nothing works about it, shes supposed to be in a gown with her hair down but she look like a cross between a taky 70s Cher impersonator and a low budget bollywood star

( can some one please draw the TWN actresses in what they are described as wearing in the book like Keira in the green tulle top, Sabrina in the black chiffon blouse and a crimson skirt or Philippa dress lined with diamonds and ermine fur, I will commission you )

the casting of Margarita Laux-Antille completely backfires due to how they wrote her character

Casting a plus sized black woman as a character that is described as white, and extremally conventionally attractive, to spite the gamer dudebros, is a move I like to be clear I love the diversity this show has given us incredible actresses like Anya and Anna and Mimi that in past years would have been looked over

but unfortunately they make her character conform to the “ angry black woman stereotype” and hit Ciri despite her character in the books who could be described as “sweet” and “the cool teacher” hopefully we will see her character more like the books with the lodge in the second half of the season

and just general “sins of the father” stuff that is from the books but isn't given proper context for show only fans to understand

like the discussion about aelirenn leaving out that older elves are infertile, or many things about Aplegatt and his role in the story, the “ my ugly one” line feeling really out of place im sure there is more but thats all I can remember for now,

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher spoilers #the witcher season 3 #twn #review #not tagging critical or negitive dont want to actract those 100% negative #people

3 notes · View notes

monsterboyfriend · 2 years ago

Text

Alright! I've finished watching and have had time to sit with it so here's some more notes:

1. Everything related to Jaskier this season has been amazing. All his interactions with Geralt and Ciri have been great as well as with Dijkstra and Philippa. Radskier is such a love letter to Jaskier fans, honestly (and they better wait at least a season before fucking it up). Joey has always been stellar at portraying Jask and it really shines here with his increased prominence in the story. A+ for everyone.

2. Yenralt is good. As always, Henry struggles to really sell it. He has a few good moments where he seems genuine but his performance is overall passable. Anya does much better, but it really takes two when it comes to chemistry and I'll admit, even she seems a bit artificial. The writing for Yenralt, though, is very strong and helps a lot with the chemistry. That and the directing, especially in episode 5 is really good at framing them as a believable couple.

3. I love the monster made out of poor unfortunate test subjects. Genuinely freaky.

4. Ciri feels so relatable. I really understand and appreciate her determination to do the right thing. I hope she never loses that passion. It makes me wonder, if you do the right thing and it backfires, is it still the right thing? She's also clever in a way that doesn't contradict her impulsiveness. She's very fleshed out, and Freya plays her with a lot of courage and, more importantly for me, humor. I just love her.

5. I really wish there was more Fringilla, and that fans would talk about her more. I'm glad she got out of the wine cellar, but I just hate that no one besides Cahir (and maybe Francesca) cares about her. I just want someone to give her a hug.

6. I understand much more now why Cahir is the way he is and I feel really bad for him. Emhyr is all he has. It's fucked up.

7. Please, do not try to sell me on Emhyr being this tragic, misunderstood hero. I DON'T like him. I'm interested in his motivations and backstory, but please keep him as a villain.

8. I still can't believe Francesca and Filavandrel are a couple.

9. I enjoy Dijkstra and Philippa, but their dubious nature makes me unsure if I should be rooting for them (I'm sure this is intentional).

10. I think Triss and Istredd could be a good couple, but the fact that they're both rejected Yenralt love interests makes the potential of their coupling feel incredibly contrived.

11. Sabrina is pretty funny and I like that she's constantly causing trouble and just generally being a dick and at the same time serving cunt. Flawless.

12. Valdo and his troupe are so entertaining. He's so cliche in all the right ways. He's so petty and his tunes are so catchy. I love him and his devious mustache immensely.

13. I like the fresh idea of having Episode 5's story bounce around a bit. The whole episode is framed as an after party discussion between Yen and Geralt which is both cute and unique. It also makes it feel like a mystery, which it kind of is. It also helps break up what would've been a very long, uninteresting oral retread of the episode if the story was written chronologically. Unfortunately, it was like that anyway because of just how many scenes repeat with extra context. I feel like they could have cut down on all of that, especially because I had to constantly check to make sure I didn't accidentally rewind the episode. They could have at least changed the camera pov for a lot of these. I overall enjoyed the episode though and thought it did the most for developing Yenralt. And it was still very fun. I especially like how Geralt loved the shrimp hors d'oeuvres and Yen had to stop him from eating them all!

14. I love Radovid, even though I was cautious at first (and tbh I still am). I wonder what is gonna happen with Radskier and what they'll be like as a couple once the idolization wears off and Redanian politics butts its ugly head at them.

15. Needs more Yennskier.

16. Speaking of Yen, Anya is amazing as always, but...... Idk how to put this. She's got a lot going on for sure. She's a mother now, she's trying to protect Ciri, she's mending her relationship with Geralt, regaining the brotherhood's trust, starting a mage conclave, etc. But I feel like the only thing that really affects her character in ways that are interesting is her relationship with Ciri (I want to see her struggle, learn and grow as a mother) but ALSO whenever she's not in a scene with Ciri, that becomes uninteresting too bc it's either about just protecting Ciri or how she's in love with Geralt. That should be right because she's wanted a family for so long and is fighting to keep it but for some reason it just doesn't fully resonate with me like her arcs in previous seasons did. Can someone explain? Don't I want good things for Yen? Do I just want her to suffer??? Or is just that she feels a bit..... one-dimensional?

Okay, still watching, but... some notes:

1. I'm loving this season so far. So much better than last season!

2. Ciri just gets better in every season. The first season she was meh. The second season was better. But this season, she's really entertaining and I'm actually looking forward to her scenes.

3. I feel so bad for Fringilla and Cahir!

4. Radovid is surprisingly likeable and interesting. Not exactly fascinating but then again he needs time to grow on me.

5. Geralt is, as usual, just okay.

6. Every time Jaskier's on screen I can't help but smile (even though every joke he's ever made in this series has been lame, but then again, that's part of his charm)

7. Just saw Valdo for the first time and immediately I love him

8. Yennefer is as lovely as always but her storyline is kinda boring compared to last season (one of the few things I really liked from S2). Now that she's at Aretuza though I have hope that it'll pick up, especially with the drama between her and Ciri

9. Philippa and Dijkstra.... I don't know how to feel about them yet.

#the witcher #the witcher spoilers

5 notes · View notes

arse-blathanna · 3 years ago

Text

Having Geralt fuck Yen on a table in the longfic so I'm less tempted to have them do it on Vilgefortz's desk later.

It didn't work, I might have to make that happen still.

#mantiswrites #this is what the yenralts want right

9 notes · View notes

dancingwiththefae · 2 years ago

Note

for song prompts, how about bitter water (oh hellos) for yenralt? i hope you’re having a good day, my dear <3

Yes finally a Yenralt prompt and excellent song choice! <3

I got excited when I saw this because honestly that song works for them

Warnings/tags: kissing, drowning as a metaphor

wc: 742

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

It had become some kind of game. This thing between them. They would run into each other – in towns, cities and backwards villages in the middle of nowhere all the same – they would spend the night in each other's arms and the then by morning she was gone. Not always. Sometimes Geralt was the one to leave. Sneaking away under the cover of darkness because he could not bear the thought of waking to an empty bed. The taste of her lips, sweet as honey, became bitter in his memory. He craved it, he regretted it. He couldn't get enough of it.

So when the door to the inn opened and scent of lilac and gooseberries reached him, he already knew how the evening was going to go. He glanced up from his tankard and their eyes met. She offered an arch of her brow as a greeting and then headed to the bar. His head dipped back down, a huff of a laugh escaping his lips. How like her to be so unbothered, so put together. When really he knew that she was just like him. He saw her, he knew her, just as she knew him. And it terrified her just as it terrified him. It was why she fled.

He went back to his drink. The ale here wasn't bad, but no doubt Yennefer would have something to complain about. She didn't come over to him right away. She never did. Lingering at the bar, she took a long, purposeful sip of her ale. She was looking away, but she held herself straight in the way that she did when she knew that eyes were on her.

Geralt went back to staring at the table. Her scent became stronger as her footsteps echoed closer. He already knew what was coming. He didn't look up as she sat herself down opposite him.

“You have a room here?” She asked.

“Yes,” he said into his drink.

“Good.”

He looked up at her then. She wasn't looking at him, instead looking out to the room with an almost bored expression. His eyes lingers, taking her in. A dark travelling cloak rested on her shoulders, held together by a clasp that settled in the hollow of her neck. Her raven hair pulled back in a pin. His eyes traced the delicate curve of her neck and to her shoulder. Down to her wrist and the hand placed on the table, close enough to reach out and touch. He didn't, for fear that she would not take it. Or worse, that she would not let go and drag him into her world of fire and chaos. He wasn't sure he'd survive either.

They sat together and played pretend. They pretended that this was exactly what both of them wanted to do. To make make polite conversation about where they had been and what they had done since they last parted. As if they were any other couple in this place. Like they didn't want to drown in each other's waters.

“So what brings you to town?” Yennefer asked, more out of courtesy than anything.

“Contract. You?”

“Just passing through.”

And that was it. No elaboration, no explanation. He did not ask and she did not offer. It had been long enough anyway. She slipped off her chair and up the stairs. He followed without a word, taking the lead in the hallway to unlock the door. It creaked open and he moved to let her in first. Her eyes glanced around the room with vague intrigue as he closed the door behind him.

“Yen-”

She brought her hand up to pull the pin, letting her hair fall in waves around her. The act made something twist inside him. He wanted to reach out and touch it. To feel her hair flow through his fingers like water. And he wondered how he could ever be allowed to touch something so beautiful. She stepped towards him slowly until they were inches apart. Hands rested on his chest and he felt himself sinking once again into her. His lungs were filling up once again with her.

“I shouldn't love you,” he whispered like a confession, “you'll be the death of me.”

“I know.” The ghost of a smirk played upon her face as she teased him. He continued regardless.

“But I do.”

“I know.”

The distances closed between them and their lips met. The game began anew.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt x yennefer #yenralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #faye writes

33 notes · View notes

dreamofbecoming · 2 years ago

Text

this isn't a breakup, dearheart, it's a season finale

guess who wrote yet another thing that isn't the next chapter of sleep now she pleads? what up demons it's me ya boi

anyway i saw this reddit post and immediately started foaming at the mouth so this happened

enjoy!

geraskier/yentriss (yenralt but not really)

rating: t

wc: 6.3k

ao3

“How dare you ask me that? How can you accuse me of something so low! I have never been unfaithful to Triss, and I never will!”

The world tilted alarmingly. Metaphorically, of course, but Geralt had never understood quite how apt a metaphor it was until just this moment.

“Triss? But you—we—what about us?”

The look of bewilderment that melted the incandescent rage off of Yen’s lovely face might have been gratifying in a less fraught circumstance.

“Wh—us? What do you mean us? We’re fine, aren’t we? I thought you liked Triss!”

“I—but—I thought—” Flustered, and correspondingly out of words, Geralt gave up and fumbled through his pockets, pulling out the little velvet box he’d been carting around all week and thrusting it out in front him, imploring Yen to put the pieces together for herself.

Yennefer, for her part, had gone very still, violet eyes wide and fixed on the ring box in Geralt’s hand. She stared for a long moment, then abruptly nodded her head once and turned on her heel towards the kitchen.

“Right. Wine. I don’t know exactly what’s happening right now, but whatever it is, we need wine. A lot of wine. Maybe all the wine you have.”

That might be excessive, given that they were having this discussion in Geralt’s living room at Corvo Bianco, but under the circumstances, he was inclined to agree with her.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go. This wasn’t how this whole week was supposed to go, frankly.

Things had started to deteriorate not long after he finally caved and bought the ring Yen had been hinting at for months. He hadn’t yet worked out the right time to ask, so he had taken to carrying it around in case of spontaneous inspiration, until The Party.

The Party hadn’t been something he expected to earn Capital Letter Incident status when his girlfriend of six years first mentioned that her new boss was having a cookout for her team and she had been given a plus one. It had hardly registered as meaningful at all, beyond the stress of having to drag himself out of his quarterly reports to—horror of horrors—socialize. With strangers, no less.

(Perhaps Geralt should have considered it a red flag that he had never met most of Yennefer’s coworkers, but the truth was that despite their longterm and—Geralt would have insisted until about five minutes ago—very amicable relationship, they led separate lives in many ways. That was just how they both liked it. They were both dedicated to their careers, and they had very different ideas on things like home décor and family planning and how close to the nearest 24-hour grocery store a house should be and...alright maybe he could see how they weren’t quite as compatible as he had been telling himself they were for the last six years, but he did love her, alright? She was his best friend, and it wasn’t like he was ever going to find anything better than what they had, was it? He wasn’t settling, he was just being...realistic.)

The first issue arose when, upon arriving to Yen’s boss’s home, he was introduced to their hostess as “my cousin, Geralt Rivia.” He had been too startled to correct her; verbal confrontation had never been Geralt’s strong suit, and he was so taken aback that his voice nearly fled him entirely, so he let it go and resolved to ask her as soon as they were alone.

Maybe she wanted Tissaia to think she was single? Lawyers were a notoriously cutthroat bunch, maybe the implication of having someone to come home to might call Yennefer’s dedication to the firm into question. Geralt though that was ridiculous, but he didn’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of office politics. There’s a reason he owned his own business, so he never had to answer to anyone, and if any of his workers or vendors started causing problems he could just stop working with them.

Then again, maybe it was just a joke. Geralt didn’t always understand jokes on the first pass, although Yen had known him long enough to know when to explain something to him ahead of time, usually. Still, when she had continued to introduce him as her cousin to all the lawyers and legal aides scattered around Tissaia’s back garden, he had decided it must be a joke, because what else could it be? He would just have to mention to her once they left that it wasn’t something he understood or was comfortable with, and ask her to please correct the record on Monday. It wouldn’t be the first time they had had a similar chat, having known each other since their university days, and Yen was always gracious and accommodating about Geralt’s social limitations, in her own blunt, sarcastic way. In fact, she was usually the one encouraging him to set boundaries with people, and she was always pleased and proud when he put her lessons into practice, even with her. It was part of what made him love her so much.

So he had bitten his tongue (not difficult, when that was his default state anyway) and suffered through excruciating small talk with most of Yen’s coworkers. (Admittedly he did have a very pleasant conversation with Renfri Creyden from Acquisitions, who, as it turns out, was more than happy to spend a half hour trading insults about Irion Stregobor. The board chair was one of the only people from Yen’s work who Geralt knew personally, having taken his class junior year and nearly been expelled on trumped up charges after calling him out in public for sexually harassing the female students. Apparently he was as universally hated among the staff at the firm as he had been as a professor, which was gratifying.)

In the car on the way back to Geralt’s place, he had tentatively brought up his discomfort, looking for an explanation, and was surprised and concerned to be met with a terse “I didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea,” and a refusal to discuss it further. Her mood had seemed to sour the more he had pushed for a clarification about what exactly “the wrong idea” would have been, and eventually he had given up, troubled and anxious.

He hadn’t seriously considered the possibility of an affair until Eskel brought it up. He had called his brother that same night, unable to sleep out of fear that he had somehow fucked up his relationship without realizing it and needing Eskel’s outside perspective and steady reassurance. Instead, he had been met with reluctant pity, Eskel asking him if he was absolutely sure she wasn’t cheating? Maybe with a colleague, since that would explain her insistence that no one at work be aware of their relationship?

The possibility had occurred to Geralt only very briefly, and since he had called his big brother in the hopes of being told that he was being crazy and he had nothing to worry about, the resignation in Eskel’s voice was a gut punch. He had been cheated on before—part of him wondered sometimes if it was inevitable, being an asexual person in a relationship with someone allosexual. Unfortunately, Yen was usually the one insisting he put those thoughts out of his head, that he deserved to be loved for who he was, by someone who wouldn’t need him to change to be “enough.” The thought that she might not have meant any of those things was shockingly painful.

He knew his family weren’t huge fans of Yen, but then, they’d only met her a handful of times, and never since they’d been dating. Yen’s past made her closed-off and suspicious of strangers, especially family, since her own had been the source of so much pain and betrayal. She often came off aloof and selfish, but Geralt was one of the few allowed beneath the chitinous armor she wore in the face of the outside world, and he knew that she was one of the fiercest, kindest people alive. He would take a bullet for her, and she for him, he was sure. He wished his father and his brothers could see her for who he knew her to be, but he didn’t begrudge them their caution. They lived so far away that they were rarely able to come visit. Geralt usually went home to Kaedwen a few times a year to see them, though Yen had never made the trip with him, despite multiple invitations. They had only met her twice, once at graduation, and again when the whole family—Vesemir and Guxart, Eskel, Lambert, and Aiden—, had all driven down to help Geralt pack up his Novigrad apartment and get everything shipped to the vineyard he’d just purchased in Toussaint. She had been fairly standoffish to them both times—not impolite, just distant, but the impression had been made regardless.

He wished things were different, and admittedly he had hoped maybe a wedding could be another chance to bring them together, but for now he accepted the slightly frosty status quo. If he had the words to communicate his understanding of either party to the other, he might be able to fix it, but as it was, the nuances of their dynamic eluded him. He knew the animosity on both sides was a result of their love for him, which is why he believed the whole thing was more than a bit silly, but since all involved were willing to hold the tentative peace, he decided it was more trouble to wade into the quagmire than it was to just ignore the tension.

This did mean, however, that Eskel was immediately suspicious of Yen’s behavior, and at his urging, Geralt had called his girlfriend over to ask her directly about her fidelity before he popped the question.

Which brought them to now, both of them well past tipsy, sprawled on the couch as they each tried to reconcile reality with the lives they believed they had been leading until today.

“I jus’—the thing is, Geralt, the thing I don’t get is, the thing is this. Ooh, gimme that,” Yen slurred, making grabby hands at the tub of mocha chip he had fished from the freezer a few minutes ago. Geralt handed it over obligingly, nudging her with his socked foot when she didn’t continue immediately.

“The thing is?”

“Right!” She gestured wildly with her heaping spoonful, barely noticing when Geralt lunged forward to hold a napkin underneath with a wobbly hand in an attempt to protect her expensive satin trousers. “The thing! The thing is, I don’ get it! We never even, Geralt, we never even kissed! How’d you think we were dating when we never kissed even once? You love kissing!”

“I mean, we did kiss, t’be fair. ‘M not a total idiot.”

“We kissed in college, sure, but we gave up on that after, like, a week! That was years ago! And I know you’re not an idiot, don’t talk about my best friend like that, shithead.” This last was punctuated with a jab to his kidney from a remarkably sharp knee.

Geralt took another swig of his wine. He was thankfully past the worst of the embarrassment of this evening, but there was still no easy way to be told that the woman you were supposed to have been seriously dating for the better part of a decade had apparently never noticed you were together, or thought of you as more than a friend. Still, he didn’t think all of the responsibility for this colossal miscommunication could be laid at his feet. That hardly seemed fair, considering.

“No, I mean we kissed again. Six years ago, when we were still in Novigrad. ‘S when we—ugh. When I thought we got together.”

Yen tilted her head quizzically, an impressive feat given that she was also attempting to simultaneously fit her ice cream spoon and her wine glass in her mouth. Despite the revelations of today, Geralt was grateful he was still allowed to have this, to be the person trusted to see Yennefer Vengerberg, terror of the Continent, at her least dignified.

“You had that. You know, the thing. That dinner thing. For your job. And Istredd was supposed to take you, but—”

“Oh shit! I forgot about that!”

“Blocked it out, more like. Still think you should have let me hit him.”

“He had moved out of the country, Geralt, I wasn’t gonna let you fly to Nilfgaard just to punch my ex-boyfriend who ghosted me for a job and stood me up for my celebratory promotion dinner.” The well-worn tracks of the familiar argument soothed Geralt’s lingering anxiety, and he rolled his eyes fondly.

“Spoilsport. Anyway, don’t you remember? We went out after? We were at Zoltan’s til last call, you got so fuckin’ pissed that night. You didn’t want to go home with all of Istredd’s stuff gone, so I brought you back to mine, and you. Uh. You kissed me. Nothin’ else happened, obviously, and I guess...now that I think about it, we didn’t talk about it in the morning, but you kissed my cheek again when I dropped you off home, and after that, I thought...you really didn’t notice? I kept taking you out to dinner and things? We had that picnic by the beach, and I asked you to come home to Kaedwen with me for the holidays? I was bummed when you said no, but I jus’ figured you were busy with the promotion. And I didn’t blame you after that year because I could never convince Vesemir you didn’t mean anything by it, I didn’t want you to have to deal with him bein’ a dick. Ah, fuck, everything makes so much more sense now. I’m so stupid!”

Geralt groaned, burying his face in his hands, the embarrassment returning full force. This was the most humiliating thing that had ever happened to him. Maybe to anyone. Fuck, he was going to have to tell his family about this. Lambert was never going to let it go, ever. Maybe he should just leave. Fake his death, move somewhere remote. Poviss, maybe? Nobody would look for him in Poviss.

“Oy! You’re thinking bad thoughts in there, I can tell! Stop it!”

“Augh!” Geralt flailed right off the couch when something cold and wet jabbed him in the ear.

Yen was staring wide-eyed from the couch when he managed to get his bearings, holding the offending ice cream spoon in one manicured hand.

Geralt blinked owlishly at her from the floor. She snorted inelegantly, just once, clearly holding back a giggle. The silence stretched a moment longer.

They burst into hysterical laughter at the same time, leaning forward as they howled until they smacked their foreheads together, which only made them laugh harder. Every time they started to come down, they would catch each other’s eye again and the whole thing would start again from the beginning.

When they could finally breathe again, they were both on their backs on the carpet, heads beside each other and feet pointed at opposite walls, panting as they caught their breaths.

“I meant it about the kissing, though, Geralt. I know you, remember? I know you still want that kind of closeness with your partner. You’re the cuddliest bastard I know, you dick. How could you think I would let you dangle for six years in a relationship where you weren’t fulfilled? That I would do that to you?”

For the first time in this whole convoluted mess, Geralt felt shame. Not embarrassment for having made a fool of himself, but shame for having doubted the ferocity of Yen’s love for him. After fifteen years, he should know better. He turned his head to face the coffee table so he wouldn’t have to look her in the eye.

“I just...I figured it was like before. With the others. That kissing if it wasn’t going to lead to sex wasn’t...fair to you. So you didn’t want to. And I figured, if you don’t want to, no one will. And you’re my best friend anyway, so if no one is ever going to be better, being with you is the best thing I could hope for.” Yen made an affronted noise behind him, and he turned back to her, hurrying to correct himself. “I don’t mean—it wasn’t like I wanted to be with you because I didn’t think I could do better! No one could do better than you, Yen. You’re my favorite person. I just meant, a life without kisses or cuddling would be ok, if it was with you.”

The righteous anger hadn’t left her expression despite the tears glistening in her eyes, but Geralt had known her long enough to recognize her “Geralt is being belittled by someone (including, but not limited to, himself) and I’m going to do some violence about it” face.

“Listen, fuckface, you’re my favorite person too, and that’s why you should shut the fuck up,” Yen snarled, propping herself up on one elbow and punctuating each word with a jab of her finger to Geralt’s sternum. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, you’re worth more than that. Those bitches at school were wrong, plain and simple. They shouldn’t have treated you that way, and one of the greatest regrets of my life is that all I did was put Nair in Sabrina’s conditioner after you broke up, and I didn’t make them all regret ever being born to cross my path.” She glowered at the memory, before her expression changed abruptly, cycling rapidly through concern into alarm.

“Oh, Geralt, shit. I’m so sorry. This is—this is a breakup for you, isn’t it? You’re going through a breakup and I’m being an asshole. Fuck. What—uh. Shit. What can I do? What do you need?”

Despite himself, Geralt laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. Ok, I’m laughing at you a little. But only because, weirdly, I think I’m sort of...relieved?” He paused, trying to sort through his feelings and match them to the right words. The process was easier with Yen, and easier still with alcohol in his system, but it was still painstaking and slow. Yen waited patiently, more than used to Geralt’s need for time and stillness to come up with his words by now. “You know I love you, more than anybody, but now that I’m looking back over the whole thing, I think it felt sort of...forced? Like I wanted so badly to be in love with you that I thought if I just believed it hard enough, it would be true? I think...I think I tried to convince myself that this is what romantic love is supposed to feel like, and even though I knew deep down it isn’t, I told myself it didn’t matter because it was still better than anything else I would ever get, so I should just make the best of it. That’s why—” He waved vaguely in the direction of the ring box, abandoned on one of the end tables somewhere around bottle number three.

“Yeah, why did you get a ring? I mean, why now?”

“You kept talking about marriage and weddings and proposing, and I saw you looking at that one when you came with me to get that watch for Guxart’s Midwinter gift. I thought you were dropping hints.”

One flawless eyebrow arches, her face incredulous. “You thought I was asking you for something by dropping subtle, indirect hints? And it worked? I don’t know if I’m offended or proud, honestly.” Geralt laughed again, because alright, that was fair. She was right, asking indirectly was a terrible way to get Geralt’s attention about anything, and apparently the only reason it worked this time was because she hadn’t actually been dropping anything at all, he was just scavenging for discarded social cues on the side of the road like a raccoon. He tried, and mostly failed, to hold back a giggle at the image.

“Wait! You got the ring I was looking at?”

“...Yes?”

“Shit, I was planning to buy that for Triss!” Well, that certainly explained all the wedding talk. “Fuck, do you think they’ll have another one at the store?”

Now it was Geralt’s turn to lift a brow. “Why would you need another one?”

“For Triss, Geralt, keep up!” She was getting more and more frantic, hands digging into her hair in distress.

“Yen. Look at me.” Panicked eyes met his. “You don’t need another ring. The one you wanted is right there.” He pointed at the box.

Yen’s gaze followed his fingers, and after a moment she seemed to deflate. She looked back at him, somewhat sheepish. “’M drunker’n I thought, I think.” Geralt snorted another laugh.

“You think? Dork.” She whacked him in the chest indignantly, making him chuckle. “Mean it, though. ‘S yours. Bought it for you, after all. Ah fuck, I’m gonna have to apologize to Triss, aren’t I? I bet I’ve been an asshole without noticing, somehow.”

He cringed at the prospect. Maybe he would wait until after Yen proposed. She’d be in a good mood, that way, and would definitely feel secure in the relationship, so that would be better, right? When was the best time to apologize to your best friend’s fiancée for mistakenly believing you were the one dating their partner for the entire time you’ve known each other?

In fairness, Geralt wasn’t sure he could blame the autism for this one; this didn’t seem like the kind of situation a neurotypical person would know how to navigate either.

There was another undignified snort from Yen’s direction. “Maybe not to Triss, but definitely to Jaskier.”

“Who?”

She raised an eyebrow at him from where she’d shifted to prop her back against the leg of the sofa. “Jaskier? The guy Triss and I tried to set you up with, who was devastated when you blew him off completely and never called? Although—oh, shit, that makes sense now! I was so sure you’d like him, I couldn’t figure out what the problem was!”

Geralt had to struggle a little through the wine-haze to figure out what she was talking about. Eventually a foggy memory surfaced of a dinner he and Yen had gone to several months previous. A double-date, she’d called it. Which—oh. Ah. He had assumed that he and Yen were on a date with another couple, but now...well, fuck. That explained why “Triss’s boyfriend” had been so flirty and handsy with him all night, and why he had seemed so disappointed when Geralt insisted on bidding him a firm goodnight outside the restaurant and going home alone. Yen had gone home with Triss, which made a lot of sense in hindsight, but at the time he had written off as women best friends doing women best friends things.

Being flirted with overtly enough for him to notice had made Geralt tremendously uncomfortable, especially from someone who was supposed to be on a date with someone else, right in front of both of their partners. He remembered thinking the man was very attractive, but must be a special kind of sleezy to behave so shamelessly in full view of both of their dates, and wondering why a sweetheart like Triss was with someone like that in the first place.

With the fresh eyes of new information, that night took on a whole new sheen. Jaskier had, evidently, not been sleezy in the slightest, but instead very gratifyingly interested in his date, who spent all night brushing him off and paying attention to another woman, in front of her rightful partner. Fuck, Geralt was the sleeze, wasn’t he?

“Oh, gods, why did you let me act like such a prick? He probably thinks terribly of me now,” Geralt groaned, flopping backwards and focusing intently on the underside of the coffee table. The far corner could use another pass with the sander, probably. He should take it into the workshop soon. Not tomorrow, though. Tomorrow was for lying in the bathtub cursing his decision-making.

Yen let out a thoughtful hum. “I wouldn’t be so sure, actually. Triss said he really liked you, and was disappointed he never heard from you. I don’t know him that well, but I bet if you called him and explained the misunderstanding, he’d probably think it was funny. If you’re interested, that is…?”

He glared at her from his place under the table. She knew damn well what kind of person he was attracted to.

She rolled her eyes in response, their ability to have silent conversations apparently not affected by the radical rearranging of their relationship over the last few hours. “Don’t give me that look, I know he’s your type, that’s why I set you up in the first place. I’m never wrong. I only meant that, for you, you’re getting out of a serious, long-term relationship. Are you sure you want to jump right back in? I might not know him very well, but Triss does, and she adores him—he doesn’t deserve to just be a rebound for you, you know.”

Chagrined, he hauled himself up to sit beside her. He snagged the discarded wine bottle and poured them both another glass.

“I don’t—Hm. I don’t know how to explain it without sounding rude.”

“Like that ever stopped you before, you brute. Out with it.”

“I feel...I feel like this is the biggest, most significant breakup of my life, and also like it isn’t that at all.”

A pause. “You’re right, that’s not a very good explanation.”

He flicked her in the ear, and dodged her retaliating pinching fingernails.

“Shut up, you know I’m bad at this. I just mean—I’m not sure what I mean. But it feels ok. It’s weird that I’ve apparently been single for...Melitele, eight years, but I feel like I want to try something real again, not mourn what I never had.”

“That was damn near poetic, that was.”

“Shut up, Yen.”

“Yes, dear.”

-----

Jaskier, uncharacteristically, was silent for a long moment. He sipped from the glass of (admittedly delicious) rosé Geralt had thrust into his hand practically the moment he walked through the door, apparently a personal favorite of his host.

Jaskier had not expected to ever hear from Geralt Rivia again after the most disappointingly mediocre date of his life. (He wouldn’t dare call it the worst date, not after the time Valdo set his favorite jacket on fire “by accident” after Jaskier won the composition scholarship they had both been gunning for, on their first last date (of, regrettably, several last dates, every time Jaskier got bored enough or lonely enough to give him another shot).)

Despite being incredibly charming in an obviously unintentional way, the absolutely stunning vintner (Vintner! That was his actual job! Owning and operating a vineyard!) had all but ignored him all night, despite Jaskier’s very best attempts at flirting (which he knew from experience were at least 95% effective), and had, instead, been oddly invested in Triss’s girlfriend Yennefer all night. Not in a creepy way, really, but just in a way that felt very much like he didn’t have strong opinions one way or the other about anyone else at the table, and wasn’t interested in forming them. Triss had mentioned that Geralt and Yen had been best friends since college, so he hadn’t thought it was that weird that they were obviously close, necessarily, except that it felt like Yennefer was actually on a date with both of them and no one had bothered to tell poor Jaskier.

Which, given the stumbling but genuinely contrite apology and explanation he had been treated to over the last half hour or so, made a lot of sense, given that apparently Geralt and Triss were both on a date with Yennefer, but apparently only Geralt knew that.

Truth be told, if he had heard this story from any other date, he would have called bullshit immediately and left without looking back. But not only had he really, really wanted to go out with Geralt again (it wasn’t just that he was stupid gorgeous, although Triss had showed him Geralt’s Facebook before the date and Melitele be good no one should look that sexy in overalls, but he also had a sneaky, dry humor that contrasted with Jaskier’s perfectly, and his eyes lit up beautifully when he talked about his brothers or his grapes or his horse (who apparently lives in the?! Stables?!? Behind the farmhouse????) and basically everything about him was perfectly tailored to suit Jaskier’s fantasy of the perfect man), Triss had also promised that while the story wasn’t hers to tell, she swore on the one working printer in the office that it had been a misunderstanding and he should, at the very least, listen to Geralt’s explanation.

Whatever he had expected when he texted Geralt back, agreeing to hear him out, it hadn’t been this.

“So, just so I’m totally clear on the details, you thought you were in a relationship with Yennefer this whole time?”

“Yeah. Since before we moved here from Novigrad.”

“And...forgive me if this is a rude question, but—”

“How did I believe that for so long when it wasn’t true?”

“Yes. That.”

Geralt sighed, looking more sheepish than offended, thankfully. He swirled his own wine glass thoughtfully. “I don’t know if Yen mentioned when she set us up, but I’m asexual. So a lot of the time, a romantic relationship doesn’t look that much different from a strong friendship for me, and when Yen broke up with her ex and kissed me while she was drunk, I guess I just...got my wires crossed. And even though she’s my best friend, our circles don’t really cross that much, so no one realized until now.”

That raised several questions for Jaskier, and he wasn’t sure which one to ask first. He decided to cross his T’s as Triss’s best friend, to get it out of the way. “Do you kiss Yennefer a lot, still? In the last couple years, I mean?”

The wry smile on Geralt’s face told him he hadn’t succeeded at all in being subtle, but that was fine. “You mean since Yen started seeing Triss? Don’t worry, I’m glad she has a friend like you looking out for her. And no, we haven’t kissed again since that first drunken night six years ago, actually. It’s...it’s one of the reasons she was mad at me, to start with.”

“Why on earth would she be mad at you for not kissing her if you weren’t together?”

“She was more upset that I was willing to settle for a relationship without it, and that I never brought it up with her. I guess that would have solved the problem a lot sooner, probably, but I didn’t want to rock the boat. She hates when I don’t stand up for myself.”

Mollified somewhat, Jaskier hummed into his drink. “So you do prefer some level of physical intimacy in a relationship, then?”

To Jaskier’s unmitigated delight, Geralt blushed at this. He mumbled something unintelligible into his wine.

Utterly charmed, Jaskier grinned at him across the coffee table. “Sorry, what was that, darling?”

If anything, Geralt blushed even deeper before replying in a flat voice, “I like cuddling, and pretty much anything that ends with everyone’s pants still on. But mostly kissing.”

Jaskier’s grin grew, and he leaned forward on the couch with his flirtiest expression. “Well, I can work with that, darling, that’s no problem at all.”

Surprisingly, Geralt’s expression became pensive. “Are you sure?”

Taken aback, Jaskier sat back up. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Geralt’s fingers worked anxiously at the stem of his wine glass. “It has been before, is all. A problem, I mean.”

“How could it possibly be a problem to be allowed to hold and kiss someone as lovely as you?”

“It wouldn’t be...unfair to you? To spend time making out and get you worked up, and make you stop every time?”

“Geralt, can you look at me?” Jaskier’s heart broke as Geralt shook his head, staring intently at his wine where it rested on his knee. “Alright, that’s ok. But listen to me, alright? You don’t owe me sex. You don’t owe anyone sex. You don’t owe anyone an orgasm just because you kissed them and they got turned on. That’s a them problem. If anyone has ever told you that them being turned on by you means you owe them something, they’re a prick and I hope they get hit by a truck.”

This, at least, got a startled snort out of Geralt, who looked up tentatively. Jaskier fought the urge to reach for him, so beautiful and so vulnerable, and hold him close. “I guess it’s one of those things that’s easier to know than it is to believe. There are...a number of women I dated in college that Yen still thinks about tracking down and maiming every now and then. It’s still hard to believe her sometimes.”

“Well, if she needs a getaway driver, tell her to call me,” he exclaimed cheerfully, grateful for the opportunity to dispel the somber mood that had descended. “You know, this is not the conversation I thought I’d be having when I promised Triss I’d hear you out.”

Geralt barked a laugh, and smiled a little shyly. It should be illegal for him to make expressions like that, honestly. “You’re easy to talk to. It’s hard, with most people. Can talk with Yen, and my family, but that’s usually it. ‘s nice.”

Jaskier reined in the impulse to squeal into one of the throw pillows on the couch. “That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me, dearheart. Even if this is certainly not my usual fare for a second date!”

Geralt lifted one lovely silver eyebrow. “This is our second date?”

“Well, just because you didn’t know we were on the first one, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t get to count it, don’t you think? That’s hardly fair,” Jaskier joked back, before a thought occurred to him and he sobered again. “Geralt, are you—is this what you want? I mean, you just ended what was, for all intents and purposes, a relationship that lasted the better part of a decade, and nearly became an engagement—what exactly are you looking for? Because I should warn you, I’ve done the casual thing, and I’m interested in something more serious, but the last thing I want is to take advantage of you.”

There was that wry little smile again. Jaskier wanted to kiss it off his face so much.

“Yen said the same. She threatened me if I used you as a rebound, which is pretty much as good as a declaration of everlasting friendship from her. I promise, this isn’t that. I talked to my therapist and everything before I texted you. I’m still not sure why you would want to date someone like me, but Yen and Triss were very insistent that I apologize and ask for another chance if I wanted one, and I do, so…”

Goodness, there was a lot to unpack in there. Jaskier had no idea he’d made such a favorable impression on Triss’s terrifying fiancée, but that was nice to know, at least. And he was glad Geralt had a therapist already, or he would have asked Borch for a recommendation at his appointment next week to pass along. But the rest...well, that just wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all.

“Someone like you? You mean gorgeous and funny and interesting and successful? Someone like that? Because I can’t think of anyone I’d like to date more, to be honest with you.” Oh, there was that lovely blush again. Excellent.

“I meant more autistic, asexual, and enough of an idiot not to notice I was single for six years, actually.”

“Other than the part where you called yourself an idiot, which is obviously a lie, I don’t see a single red flag in that sentence. What about me? I’m a washed-up musician with ADHD who talks too much and has fucked too many people, getting paid barely minimum wage, living in a shitty flat in a city I moved to to escape my toxic ex. Am I not worth dating?”

The look of horrified outrage on Geralt’s face was flattering, at least. “No! Of course not! You’re beautiful, and funny, and kind, and you do amazing work helping refugee families, and your music is incredible! Anyone would be lucky to have you!”

Well, fuck, now it was Jaskier’s turn to blush. “You’ve heard my music?”

The obvious embarrassment on Geralt’s face was, frankly, unfairly endearing. “Yen showed me your Youtube before the double date. It’s. Nice,” he mumbled into his wine glass. Jaskier was absolutely sure he had cartoon hearts floating around his head by now.

“Alright, up.”

“What?”

“Up! Come on! Take my hands, darling.” Jaskier rose from the couch and bounced over to Geralt’s seat in the armchair, holding out his hands and making grabbing motions. Geralt stood more slowly, looking bemused, but grasped Jaskier’s hands gently in his own larger ones without complaint.

“Geralt Bartholomew Rivia, will you go on a romantic date, which will hopefully lead to a romantic relationship, with me, Julian Alfred Pankratz, called Jaskier?”

Geralt laughed, despite his obvious confusion. “My middle name isn’t Bartholomew.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Immaterial. Answer the question, Geralt. I want to make sure there is absolutely no confusion, and we are both on the same page.”

Geralt’s lovely eyes twinkled like firelight and he smiled, small and genuine and gorgeous. “Yes, Jaskier, I will go on a romantic date with you.”

Jaskier grinned back, rocking forward to plant a kiss on the lovely blush still staining Geralt’s cheeks. “I’m thrilled to hear it, dearheart.”

#the witcher #twn #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #yenralt #yentriss #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #modern au #my writing #yall chapter 2 (jaskier pov) hasn't been edited at all #i didn't even do a readthrough for parts of it #sorry if it doesn't make sense lmao i'm sleeby

63 notes · View notes

limerental · 3 years ago

Text

ficletvember 2021 - day 20

yenralt with background geraskefer, geralt goes to yen for help with a deaged child jaskier

The Witcher appears on her doorstep with a babe in his arms.

"Er," says Geralt, looking more constipated than usual. "There was an accident."

The babe is a freckled and blue-eyed, doll-faced thing, perhaps not quite a babe and more a child but Yennefer is a horribly poor judge of children's ages. He wears one of the Witcher's black shirts belted tight to make some feeble attempt at taming its billow over his tiny bidy.

He also smells like piss.

"More than one accident, it seems," says Yennefer as she steps back to invite the Witcher to come inside her rooms. She can only assume the boy's parents are no longer in the picture, no doubt a victim of one of Geralt's monsters. How typical that the Witcher would immediately make said orphan her problem rather than dropping him off at the nearest temple. "Did you rescue him? Does this look like an orphanage to you, Geralt?"

Geralt's constipated look only intensifies as he follows her to a back bedroom which connects to the luxurious bath. The wealthy merchant who owns this summer home does not have to know how much she appreciates the depth of the tub.

"No, Yen, this is--" He clears his throat. "This is Jaskier."

Yennefer turns on her heel and stares. Looking more closely, she can see some features shared by their lover. The child could easily pass for Jaskier's bastard spawn. He blinks his round, blue eyes at her, his hand fisted in Geralt's shirt.

"Right," says Yennefer. "I assume he angered the wrong person again."

"A mage," says Geralt. "She called him a simpering man child."

Yennefer snorts.

"Well, she's not wrong there."

"Yen, this isn't very funny."

"Mmmm, no, it's hilarious."

"He… when he saw me," says Geralt, a vein beating in his tightening jaw. "He pissed himself scared. He was terrified."

The distress in her Witcher's voice is subtle, but she knows him well enough now to understand that he is floundering under a familiar weight of self loathing and doubt. Yennefer rarely knows how to comfort him and wishes she did. Jaskier always knows the right words to say but presently he is--

"He seems to be alright with you now."

The tiny child who is apparently Jaskier now has his face smashed down against Geralt's side, wiping snot onto his shirt.

"I promised him a sweet roll."

"I don't have sweet rolls."

"You're a mage, Yen."

She scoffs.

"One does not simply waggle their fingers and summon sweet rolls by magic, Geralt."

She is not going to let on that she does know such a spell. Not specifically for sweet rolls, but for swiping a morsel or two from the closest occupied pantry.

"Can we get on with this?" grunts Geralt. "Is there a reason we're in your bathroom?"

"The boy reeks. I don't know how long curing him will take, so he may as well be clean and comfortable."

"You just don't want to smell his piss."

"He's the one clinging to you. I thought to do you a favor. Forgive me for offering some hospitality. Forgive me for graciously opening my home to you in your time of need."

"This isn't your house, Yen."

She huffs and stalks forward to look more closely at the boy in Geralt's arms, scent of piss be damned. He stares mutely back at her.

"Shouldn't he be talking?" asks Yennefer. "Are we sure this is your bard?"

"It's him," says Geralt. "He didn't speak until the age of five."

"He told you this?"

"He tells me most things. All of the time actually."

"Yes, but I wasn't sure that you listened," says Yennefer, and Geralt hums. The boy's eerie stare follows her as she places her fingers against his temples. His head seems frail and delicate, like a bird's egg. Her hands too large, too clumsy. "How old is he now?"

Geralt looks down at him.

"How am I meant to know that?"

"What I mean is has he changed at all? He seems to be--" A little more mature than he was in her doorway. It may be a trick of the light, but his baby fat seems diminished, his legs longer where they dangle against the Witcher's sides.

"Growing," says Geralt.

"You didn't notice?"

"I haven't exactly watched a child grow before my eyes before."

Satisfied, Yennefer steps away again.

"Well there you have it," she says. "Problem solved."

"Yen, you didn't do anything."

"I used the scientific method. Deduced the problem. He will likely continue to grow, slowly, until returning to the proper age, which judging by the current rate should take a reasonable… fuck, how old is Jaskier?"

Geralt stares blankly at her.

Yennefer sighs. A hopeless case, her Witcher. She carefully ignores that she too has been intimately involved with the man-child before her for several years without asking him his age. He hasn't asked her age either, you know. She is a firm believer in reciprocity.

"Perhaps by this evening then," she says. The boy sniffs loudly, and Yennefer decides she has had quite enough snot for one day and turns to take her leave.

"Wait, Yen, the sweet roll," says the Witcher, and she makes the mistake of turning back around to look at him, all pitiful and forlorn. She is weak to it, unfortunately. His pathetic little mope. He must know it too.

In a moment of said weakness, she leads them to the sitting room and waggles her fingers to summon several plates of sweet rolls and a glass of warmed milk. Geralt smiles his crooked little smile at her, the one that is so delightfully imperfect and genuine that it gives her a touch of heartburn, and Yennefer cannot regret the decision.

That is, of course, until the bard ages up past five and begins to speak.

#my fic #the witcher #geraskefer

315 notes · View notes

jaskierswolf · 3 years ago

Text

A Love He Once Knew

A Modern with Witchers AU feat. Reincarnation.

Pairing: Geraskier, Past Gerlion and Yenralt.

CW: Jaskier was Dandelion in a former life so minor MCD with Dandelion, Memory Loss (Geralt has lived too long to remember everything), touch-starved Geralt, canon-typical violence.

Geralt had lived a long time; too long, some might say. He’d seen the fall of Kingdoms, the rise of science and more wars than he could count. Sometimes, he even struggled to remember what the cold and crumbling walls of Kaer Morhen looked like. It was just a name that fell from his lips in dreams, a vision of a life long past. Friends and family had come and gone, the sorceresses his only constant companion in life. Their shared experience had bonded the witchers and mages more than Geralt would have ever anticipated, and as a result, Yennefer had led a series of experiments to help bring the witchers the same immortality as the mages had. She’d stood in front of- of the lodge, if Geralt recalled correctly, and stated that if they could no longer make new witchers, then they needed to preserve the ones they had.

The monsters, after all, weren’t going away any time soon.

Somewhere in his memory, Geralt remembered a pair of cornflower blue eyes, framed by soft golden curls. He couldn’t quite remember the man’s name - if they were a man. Geralt couldn't always be sure, “she-elf” his mind supplied on occasion, but ‘he’ felt right…

If only he could place the name.

Dandelion

He sometimes heard on a whisper of the wind, but he always shook his head with a quiet scoff. After all, who named themself after a fucking flower?

“I’m Jaskier,” the brunet slurred in his lap, spilling an orange cocktail over Geralt’s shirt and trousers. “And you… you are very pretty.”

“I’m here to drink alone,” Geralt grumbled for not the first time, trying to push the musician onto the floor.

He’d been howling some gods awful tune at the start of the evening, until he’d eventually been booed off the stage and pulled away from the mic. The idiot had then proceeded to get absolutely wasted, as if there wasn’t a bruxa roaming the streets of Oxenfurt at night, favouring those who were drunk as skunks. The worst part was he seemed to be very attached to Geralt.

The man, Jaskier, had no concept of personal space. He seemed to have absolutely no fear of witchers, despite the still lingering rumours of the death and destruction that followed them. Jaskier clung to Geralt, hands resting on his arms, legs, cheeks. The touch burned, and Geralt wasn’t sure if he wanted to hold Jaskier closer or push him to the floor.

“Oh well, darling, that’s just no fun!” Jaskier giggled… not for the first time.

Melitele’s tits… he was a mess.

And yet Geralt’s arms were wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, holding him steady so he didn’t slip to the floor and injure himself. Everyone would surely blame Geralt if he did, which was the only logical reason, of course. It had nothing to do with the strange comfort found in a stranger's touch after so long of being alone and feared in the world.

It certainly had nothing to do with the strange familiarity found in the cornflower blue of Jaskier’s eyes, the curve of his smile, the melodic peal of his laughter.

A loud screech tore through the air, and all the doors and windows burst open around them, an icy breeze catching on Geralt’s skin. The rest of the crowd started to scream and pandemonium broke out around them, everyone trying to escape it whatever way they could. Glasses shattered to the ground, and there was a clatter of wood against stone as the pool cues fell to the floor, all games abandoned.

And then there was Jaskier.

“Oooh cool!” Jaskier giggled, completely unaware of the danger.

Geralt let out a low growl as black eyes scanned the room beneath a mess of long dark hair. Her gaze landed on Jaskier and then she disappeared, blurring from view and leaving Geralt and Jaskier alone in the room.

“Not good,” Geralt hummed, sliding Jaskier to one knee so he could get at his potions. The black blood was bitter on his tongue but it was a familiar sensation as the poison burned through his veins.

“Oh my gods, your eyes!” Jaskier giggled, “Gorgeous, stunning, amazing… just,” the man paused, his words cut off with a hiccup. “Ethereal”

“Shut up, Jaskier!”

“Oh, ho, ho! Scary witcher!”

The bruxa shrieked as she landed almost in Jaskier’s lap, but Geralt was faster. He pushed the musician to the floor and pulled his sword from its sheath on the floor. “Get down!”

Thankfully, the idiot finally seemed to grasp the danger he was in, and scrambled to hide under the table. The battle ended quickly, Geralt ruthless in his attacks to the detriment of his own safety, and by the time the bruxa lay dead on the floor, he had several wounds bleeding sluggishly through his armour. His energy was seeping from his body quickly but he had something he needed to do-

Something-

Needed…

“Geralt!”

“Fuck.”

When Geralt woke up it was to the sterile scent of a hospital, and he groaned. Hospitals had improved since the days of leeches, but they were less inclined to hire magic users these days which was… not good. Mages were more expensive than nurses, but whilst the healers were talented, there were just some things that couldn’t be helped without the aid of chaos.

Monster bites and other related injuries, for example.

“Shit!” he cursed as he sat up quickly, pulling at the wires that were stuck to his bare chest. He barely registered the sting of his hair being pulled from the follicles, too desperate to be free.

“Woah, there,” a firm hand pressed him down, gripping at his shoulder, and Geralt let out a low snarl, but he was too weak to fight. “You almost died, Geralt. Lie back down until the nurse comes to check up on you, alright?”

Geralt blinked, wiping the sleep from his eyes with a sigh, and then glanced up at his captor. Blue eyes met his and he groaned, falling back against the pillow. “Not you.”

“Oi! I saved your life, witcher.”

“Saved yours first,” he muttered back.

“Yes, yes, and I’m very grateful,” Jaskier cooed, his hand drifting from Geralt’s shoulder down his arm until he gripped Geralt’s hand tightly in his own. The touch burned and he wanted to tear away. Nobody came near witchers like this, and he had no doubt that there was some kind of ulterior motive. “I was worried about you, love.”

“Love?”

Jaskier shrugged. “Pet names are a terrible habit of mine, although you know it’s special if I-”

“Don’t care.”

“You’re grumpy.”

“I almost died.”

With a laugh and a blinding smile that made Geralt’s heart trip a little… something he really didn’t want to think about so he blamed it on the after effect of the potions. “Oh, my darling, I almost died too. No excuses.”

Geralt hummed, ready to fall back asleep again when he suddenly noticed Jaskier’s clothes. They were stained with orange juice… or more accurately Sex on the Beach, and crumpled; the same clothes he’d been wearing at the club. He frowned, turning to the window, wincing at the bright light that shone through the glass- daylight.

Which meant that Jaskier had stayed overnight with him… at least.

“How long have I been here?”

A dark blush bloomed on Jaskier’s cheeks, and he fiddled with the dirt under his nails, very obviously avoiding Geralt’s gaze. “Three days?”

“Fuck.”

“What?” Jaskier pouted.

“My dog.”

The horror that crossed over Jaskier’s face was endearing. Without even knowing Roach, Jaskier immediately was concerned for her safety, and that warmed something inside Geralt that he’d not thought about in centuries.

Not since-

Blue eyes, blond hair…

No.

That wasn’t, he didn’t. He would never forget someone so special. He couldn’t. Geralt refused to believe that once upon a time he’d love someone in the way that all the fairy tales spoke of, only to forget their name, the sound of their voice.

He shook his head and re-focussed on the brunet in front of him, noting the differences between Jaskier and the man from his dreams. He was broader, not quite as tall or elf-like, short, messy brown hair in place of long, golden locks… but still beautiful, and those eyes…

Geralt knew those eyes.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, cupping his cheek with calloused fingers, and it was only then that Geralt realised the man had been talking whilst he’d been lost in thought.

“Hmm?”

“I asked where you live, I’ll see to your dog until you’re discharged.” Jaskier's eyes were focussed on him with such intensity, and his hand never strayed from Geralt’s cheek. The touch was warm, firm, and Geralt wanted to lean into it, forget about the pain in his chest or the burning stench of the hospital. He could get lost in Jaskier’s eyes and never have to worry about the world again.

But Jaskier was just being kind because Geralt had saved his life. The drunken flirting had meant nothing to him, probably just curious about what it was like to fuck a witcher more than anything, and Geralt knew he couldn’t get attached… shouldn’t get attached, so he pulled away from the touch with a snarl and shook the bard- no… the musician- away from him. The hospital was too small, enclosed, sterile, suffocating. He had to get away, get home. Pushing back the lure of sleep, he pulled out the rest of the wires and stood up. The world spun a little and his knees buckled underneath him, but Jaskier was there, an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I really think you should-”

“I’m leaving.”

“Right, right, yes, okay then… Let me help you?”

Geralt growled, turning to Jaskier with more anger than he felt. “I don’t need your help.”

The idiot just shrugged and smiled softly, never taking his hands from Geralt’s waist. “Perhaps not, but I’d still like to, Geralt. Please?”

“Fine, but then you will leave me alone.”

Jaskier just laughed, that bright and beautiful, musical laugh that made Geralt feel… feel something. “Oh, ho, ho! Witcher, you’ll have to try harder than that darling. I think you’ll find that I’m rather like velcro… or superglue? Nah, velcro is better. Makes a nice sound too, like me, get it? Because I’m a singer and-”

“Jaskier!”

“Shutting up.”

He didn’t shut up, not really. Less than a minute later, Jaskier was rambling on about something again, something he’d seen outside the window, or commenting on a nurse's hair or smile… anything and everything, and yet Geralt got the sense that no matter how much Jaskier talked, he never said anything. Beyond the fact that the man was a musician and had no apparent sense of self-preservation… Geralt knew nothing about him. For all the words that he spoke… none of them really held any meaning. It was infuriating. Geralt himself only spoke when he had something meaningful to say, and this mindless drivel that was spouting from Jaskier’s lips was just… it was too much.

And yet not enough.

Geralt wanted to know more, despite the lies he told himself. If this idiot kept latching onto Geralt with easy touches and not even a whiff of fear in his scent, then Geralt wanted to know why. Everyone was afraid of witchers, they were rare and dangerous and it was human instinct to fear them. Witchers were, after all, often the most dangerous creature in whatever room they occupied. That was their entire reason for existing- to fight and kill the monsters that destroyed everyone else.

“We’re here,” Geralt grumbled as they hobbled up to his front door.

He watched Jaskier’s face carefully as he pulled the key from his pocket, surprised to find it was still there. His clothes were torn to shreds under the armour but they’d been the only clothes he’d had to change into at the hospital. He’d half expected the pockets to be useless but luckily the bruxa’s attacks seemed to have left at least one of his them unscathed and his key and mobile remained safely nestled inside. Jaskier’s nose wrinkled as he looked at the worn down block of flats that Geralt called home. The walls were rotten in places, and half the windows were boarded up to protect the residents from the broken shards of glass. The paint on the main door was peeling off and thick with mould.

It was not a pleasant place to live.

But Geralt was not a wealthy man. Monster hunting had never been a lucrative profession and even with Yennefer’s help over the years… he couldn’t afford much. Any profits he made went back into his armour, swords and potions. His only luxury was his dog and taking care of her wasn’t exactly cheap. It was less expensive than a horse, but food and vet bills were still an expense he didn’t exactly need. He’d found Roach at a shelter, days away from being put down, and despite his better judgement, he’d not been able to leave her behind.

With a heavy sigh, he opened the door and gestured for Jaskier to go in. The man scurried in wordlessly, but clearly looked around in distaste, and Geralt couldn’t blame him. Of course, he could have lived with Yennefer, or asked her for more help financially, but owing Yen favours was a tricky business and Geralt preferred to be as independent as he could. It was simpler this way.

“Not what I expected,” Jaskier mused as Geralt led him up the stairs, right to the top of the building.

“Hmm?”

“I thought maybe… oh I don’t know, some kind of old castle, a training yard or- or… something?”

Geralt chuckled, unlocking the door to his flat. “Kaer Morhen is long gone. We had to move on.”

“Kaer Morhen?”

“Our home… Once upon a time.” Geralt didn’t add that the only reason he remembered the name was because of the fairytales about witchers from long ago.

“Huh… neat.”

That was all Jaskier managed to say before Roach barrelled through the door and knocked the man off his feet. She pinned him down and licked at his face with happy barks. Geralt just watched, stunned by the rare display of affection from his dog.

“Weird, she normally hates strangers.”

Jaskier giggled and made a fuss over Roach, “She knows that I’m no stranger. Isn’t that right, darling? You know I’m going to be your dad’s best friend in the whole wide world? Yeah? Aww you are such a good girl. The bestest girl!” Jaskier cooed with a blinding smile. “Oh can I give her a treat?”

Rolling his eyes, Geralt stepped over the pair of them and wandered into the kitchen to grab the jar of dog biscuits from the counter. He rattled the pot and Roach came flying towards him, swiftly followed by Jaskier, red-faced and bright-eyed.

“Make sure she earns it.”

Jaskier nodded and eagerly grabbed the treat from Geralt. “Sit?” Geralt hummed. “Sit, Roach, Oh there’s a good girl, you are aren’t you! Ow!” Stuffing his fingers into his mouth, Jaskier glared at Roach who was quite happily crunching at the gravy bone he’d given her. “She bit me!”

“She’s just excited,” Geralt explained with a shrug.

That didn’t appear to be good enough for Jaskier though. He continued to pout until a mischievous smirk bloomed on his face, and that was the only warning Geralt got before Jaskier’s hands flung around his neck. “Kiss it better!”

“No.”

“Oh come on, please,” Jaskier whined, pouting up at him and leaning all his weight against Geralt so that he needed to be held up. It was very tempting to let him drop to the floor, but Geralt couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the weight of Jaskier in his arms.

“Urgh, fine,” Geralt grumbled, taking Jaskier’s not really injured hand into his and pressing a light kiss to his fingertips. “Better?”

Blushing furiously, Jaskier nodded. “Yup, yeah… yes. Good. All good. Thank you, dear heart.”

After that, Geralt appeared to be stuck with Jaskier. It was like the man had said, he was like superglue. Jaskier visited him almost everyday, bringing food, wine, and dog biscuits for his two new favourite people in the whole wide world (his words, not Geralt’s), and quite often Jaskier would join Geralt on dog walks, and later on hunts whenever Geralt had a contract. The two of them became… inseparable? And Geralt was confused by Jaskier’s presence on a daily basis. The easy touches never stopped, in fact they only seemed to get worse- no… not worse; better… more. More and more, Jaskier would be there for Geralt when he got injured, tending to his injuries or dragging him to a hospital when it was too bad for him to help.

Slowly, but surely, Geralt got used to Jaskier’s warmth, his glow. The touches hurt less as he got used to them and he began to almost seek them out, not really asking for them but Jaskier always seemed to know what Geralt needed and when. It became part of his routine as much as breathing and eating, and whenever he didn’t see Jaskier for a few days then he noticed that he started to curl up more in his sleep, hugging the pillow towards him, or wrapping his arms around his own chest in a desperate need to fill the gap that Jaskier had carved out for himself in Geralt’s life.

It was overwhelming on the best of days and downright terrifying on others.

But Jaskier stayed, despite the harsh words Geralt sometimes threw his way in a panic, Jaskier would lightly tease him about being grumpy and move on. They’d end up in some restaurant or other for dinner, or Jaskier would insist they go out to a museum or zoo, because that’s what friends do. Geralt wasn’t so sure, he’d never been to a zoo with Yennefer before.

He’d never done any of this with Yennefer before, or Triss, or even any of his fellow witchers. Trailing around Jaskier watching animals was… well, Geralt wasn’t sure what to think. He’d spent a lifetime in the wilderness before the mass urbanisation and it still felt strange to see the animals caged, but they were happy, and most importantly, they were alive; safe from hunters who stole their lives and their lands.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked one day whilst he was helping to pull monster guts from Geralt’s hair, with a little more force than Geralt thought was strictly necessary.

“Hmm?”

“Did you- umm, did you want to get dinner with me tonight?” The musician sounded nervous, and Geralt turned round with a puzzled expression on his face, only to see Jaskier scraping at the dirt under his nails and tugging his hair. What was even stranger, was that Jaskier wouldn’t meet his gaze, preferring to stare at the floor or at a loose thread on his clothes from where he’d worried the sleeve with his thumb.

“Sure?” Geralt grunted. He didn’t have much food left in his fridge, even with Jaskier pulling him out on bi-weekly grocery shops. There just hadn’t been much time between hunts recently and he ate more than Jaskier realised.

Dinner out would be better than tinned tuna.

That really didn’t explain the way Jaskier completely lit up, and threw his arms around Geralt’s neck, pressing his lips to Geralt’s cheek and then laughing almost manically. “Brilliant! I was sure you would say no, Gods… wow. Good. Brilliant, great-”

“Jaskier!”

“Yes, fine. Thank you, dear heart. I- I will see you tonight?”

“Yeah.”

About two weeks after their dinner, Geralt came to the startling realisation that he was now dating Jaskier, and the even more startling realisation that he wanted to, but he also wasn’t sure why Jaskier wanted to date him? What if they weren’t dating? Jaskier was flirtatious by nature, throwing charming smiles to their servers as often as he did to Geralt on their maybe dates. He hugged and touched and winked at almost everyone they met… so Geralt’s wasn’t really all that special. Not that that was a problem. Geralt had survived for centuries without Jaskier, so he was sure he could do it again. He didn’t need anyone, certainly not a twinky musician with a habit of getting into trouble.

“Geralt, love,” Jaskier said softly, his fingers lightly brushing Geralt’s cheek. “What’s going on up there?”

“Nothing.”

“Sure, sure…” Jaskier scoffed and rolled his eyes before pressing his lips to Geralt’s in a chaste kiss, swiftly followed by a kiss to his forehead.

It was nice. He liked when Jaskier kissed him. It was different from Yennefer. Those kisses were burning bright fireworks, desperate to get out before the spark died once more. Jaskier kissed him as if they had all the time in the world.

The irony did not escape Geralt.

But… what if Jaskier kissed his friends like that too? Men were starting to do that again… right? Fuck. Gods, he was so confused. So he just whined and pressed into Jaskier’s side, melting against him and snuggling up into his side. It was easier not to question it. No matter what the reason, Jaskier seemed to like him and Geralt would enjoy it whilst it lasted.

Four months later, Jaskier was still plastered to his side and Geralt had finally just about come to terms with his new friend, or boyfriend really he supposed. They had become an unstoppable force together. Jaskier told the stories of Geralt’s adventures via his music and short stories, and in turn Geralt protected him from gods knows how many monsters.

So many fucking monsters.

It felt like every week Jaskier was being trailed by something or other, if not twice a week. Geralt was sure his boyfriend was cursed. He’d never met anyone who was quite as prone to trouble as Jaskier.

Dandelion

The thought drifted through his mind unbidden, and he snarled, even after all this time his brain kept trying to find connections between Jaskier and the unknown man that still lingered in his dreams. He’d even spoken to Yen, but she’d just smiled enigmatically and said something about souls always finding each other eventually.

Fucking mages. They never spoke plainly and it drove him mad.

Geralt’s phone rang, snapping him from his thoughts. He would usually ignore it, but it was Jaskier’s special ringtone, and that only ever meant trouble, so he pulled the device from his pocket and jabbed at the screen.

“G-geralt?” Jaskier’s voice hissed through the tiny speaker.

“Jaskier?”

“I think monsters are attacking my house,” he whined, sounding more scared than Geralt had ever heard him.

Fuck.

“Stay. Put!” Geralt ordered firmly and then gathered his swords and potions. There wasn’t time to work out the specifics, he would have to deal with that when he got to Jaskier’s house.

His boyfriend was in danger, and he refused to lose the best thing that had happened to him in centuries. The streets flew past in a blur, and at least two cars and to emergency break as Geralt drove more recklessly than he had in years. He couldn’t remember the last time Jaskier had been attacked when they weren’t together, but he knew he didn’t like it. There was a horrible helplessness that plagued him with every minute that ticked by on the clock. Jaskier could be dead by the time Geralt made it across town, and he knew that he would blame himself if he didn’t cut every corner or take every shortcut. There had to be absolutely no excuses if he was too late.

In his wing mirror, the speed camera flashed behind him as he went past.

“Fuck,” he sighed but didn’t let up on the accelerator. Jaskier’s house was only another block away and Geralt would not be too late; he couldn’t be, it just wasn’t an option.

The house was already a mess when Geralt pulled up, splintered beams and shards of glass covered the lawn, and there was a billow of smoke coming from inside the broken building.

“Shit! Jaskier!”

“Geralt!” came the reply, and Geralt let out a sigh of relief.

Jaskier was safe...ish. He was still alive at the very least. Focussing his senses, Geralt scanned the wreck of the house, the low snuffling growl was not a good sign. It could have been a wolf if it weren’t for the sheer amount of damage that had been done. So it was something… big rather than magical. Geralt sighed and drew his silver sword, pulling a thunderbolt potion from his satchel and downing it with a grimace. Even after all these years, they’d never figured out who to make it taste better without messing with the potency.

He followed the sounds of the monster through the ruin, snarling as something grabbed his arm. Jaskier whined and fell against him before Geralt could attack.

“Oh thank fuck, I thought I was a goner,” his boyfriend cried, clinging onto Geralt’s arm as if he were the only thing keeping him standing.

“Wait in the car,” Geralt ordered, not bothering to hide his face from the musician. Over the months Jaskier had seen Geralt in all stages of toxicity and Geralt knew that there was very little that scared his boyfriend when it came to witchers. Monsters, however, Jaskier was terrified of this one in particular. The bitter stench of fear almost made Geralt feel nauseous. He wasn’t used to Jaskier’s normally sweet, honied chamomile scent smelling so… putrid.

“But-”

“I said wait in the car!”

“Urgh, fine,” Jaskier pouted and placed a kiss on Geralt’s cheek. “Be safe, love. Come back to me.”

“Hmm.”

And with that Jaskier finally saw sense to flee the house, leaving Geralt to deal with its destroyer. He found the fiend in the garden, asleep but snoring loudly, clearly guarding its new territory. Geralt wasn’t lucky enough to get close enough without waking the beast, and teeth met silver in a fierce battle. Thankfully, the destruction of the house, presumably looking for Jaskier, had left the fiend weak and, as far as fiends went, the fight wasn’t too bad- certainly not deadly. Geralt still received a rather nasty gash to his thigh, but it was worth the sacrifice, on the next blow the fiend was dead, Geralt’s sword driven through its skull.

Grunting, Geralt fell to the floor, rolling onto his back as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, mentally going over where his body hurt and how badly. There was a swallow potion in the car, but he was pretty sure he’d be okay without it. The injury on his leg needed stitches but nothing that he couldn’t do himself and Jaskier was sure to fuss over him until he could walk without limping again. No need to waste precious potion ingredients on it though. They grew less and less in the wild, and he really hated going to Triss to buy more. There was something unbelievably frustrating about spending money on ingredients when he’d been able to find plenty in the fields of the Continent for centuries.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, until a touch to his cheek startled him. Gazing up through a weary haze, he caught sight of soft cornflower blue eyes, framed by long golden curls. The man wore a lilac hat on his head adorned with a feather, and he had a- a lute? Strapped to his back.

“Dandelion?” Geralt murmured, not quite believing his eyes.

The man laughed, the sound more beautiful than any nightingale’s song, and pressed a kiss to Geralt’s forehead. “Oh darling, I haven’t gone by that name in years. How did you even know?”

Geralt groaned and rubbed his eyes, blinking as he gazed up at the cornflower blue eyes, but the blond faded to brunet, and the fine silks were replaced with the jeans and flannel that Jaskier preferred.

“Jaskier…” he breathed.

Luckily, Jaskier only seemed amused by Geralt’s mistake… wait…

“You used to go by Dandelion?”

Jaskier chuckled, lacing their fingers together. “Mhmm, back at Oxenfurt. I didn’t want to go by Julian. I’d always hated it but it’s an old family name I guess, anyway I was looking through the records at Oxenfurt for inspiration, and found about an old bard that used to attend the school back in medieval times. He used to travel with a witcher too, but there’s a bit of a debate about which one and whether he ever survived. He went by Dandelion, and I thought that was really cool, but it never felt quite right, like I was trying to be someone… someone I used to be? It’s hard to explain. Either way, I decided to keep the flower theme and switched to Jaskier after a couple of months.”

Frowning, Geralt sat up, pressing his head against Jaskier’s, he caught the musician’s lips in a chaste kiss. “I think Dandelion would be proud to have inspired you, Jask.”

“Oh really?”

Smiling as he finally saw the man from his dreams clearly for the first time in centuries, Geralt nodded. Yennefer had said that souls often find a way of finding each other, and Geralt had found his Dandelion in Jaskier. They were not the same man, nor did Geralt want them to be, but he found great comfort in knowing that Dandelion had never left him, had just waited for life together to begin again.

“Yeah.”

“You sap,” Jaskier sighed against Geralt’s lips. “I love you, Geralt.”

The words surprised Geralt. They shouldn’t have done, not with the way Jaskier seemed to fall in love with everyone he met, but still they did, melting his heart and easing the ache that he’d lived with for years. His own reply lingered on his tongue, not quite ready to come out yet, but Jaskier didn’t seem to mind, content to keep kissing languidly until Geralt pulled away.

“Move in with me?”

“What?”

“Until…” Geralt gestured to the wreck of Jaskier’s home. “Or longer if you’d like. I should warn you, I only have one bed though.”

Jaskier scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Darling, we’ve been dating for months. I’m hardly going to complain that I get to cuddle up to my boyfriend every night.”

Dating.

Thank fuck. Geralt laughed and pulled Jaskier into another kiss. Gods, he’d really been an idiot all this time, but really it had been the first time Jaskier had said it so plainly.

“My boyfriend,” Geralt echoed, nuzzling into Jaskier’s neck. “I like the sound of that.”

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @damnbert @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire @wherethewordsare @trickstermoose67 @alllthequeenshorses @skai6 @thewitcherbog

#the witcher #geraskier #gerlion #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jaskier pankratz #dandelion #reincarnation #wolfie's witcher writing

246 notes · View notes

geralt-of-vengerberg · 2 years ago

Text

List of fanfics

yennefer-of-rivia on AO3

Modern AUs

Somewhere along the way (Completed): Yennefer is a prosecutor, Geralt is a private detective. They meet on opposite sides, but their next cases might be even more life-changing than their first meeting. (AO3)

Plastic Cups (Completed): Senior college student Geralt finds himself at the Vengerberg Fertility Center for a donation after losing a bet against his brothers. Things do not go as he had expected. (AO3)

Knee Socks (Completed): College students Yennefer and Geralt agree to be friends with benefits, but sometimes you have a change of heart. And sometimes you don't realise what your heart wanted all along, until you can't have it anymore. (AO3)

Terms of Agreement (Completed): Contribution to the Witcher Winter Gift Exhange. Yennefer has always put her career first, but all of that might change when her friends introduce her to a new online dating app and she matches with White Wolf. Too bad he stands her up on their first date, but luckily for her, there's a familiar face working at the bar who saves the day/date. (AO3)

Dancing between darkness and dawn (Completed): Professor Geralt has a one night stand before the start of the semester and while he wishes he could see her again, he should've learnt by now that you always have to be careful what you wish for. (AO3)

the longing never bared, aches to be revealed (WIP): “Geralt, right?” she asks as they cross each other. He’s on his way back in while she seems to be heading out to the festival grounds. His stage name is different from his real one, so he assumes she must’ve either been briefed about the other artists by her agent or googled him herself to figure out his actual name. Either way, she still remembers it and it flatters him, but he tries to play it cool.

Or Geralt and Yennefer are musicians, cross paths and eventually match in an unlikely way. (AO3)

I'll take you to the moon and bring you back (Completed): He tries to apologise more than once, but she brushes him off. Going on about something like muscle memory and natural responses to erotic situations etc. and he doesn’t dare to tell her this wouldn’t have happened with just any co-star or actress. All of it happened because of her and the effect she has on him.(AO3)

Penne for your thoughts? (One-shot): When chef Yennefer of Vengerberg agrees to do an interview with a magazine because her restaurant was recently rewarded with its first Michelin Star, she didn't really know what to expect, but if she'd known the interviewer would've been such a sexist prick, she would've never gone through with this. Luckily for her the photographer makes it a bearable afternoon. (AO3)

(to) the manufacturer of my dreams (One-shot): Yennefer has had an awful day at work and she's in desperate need of some me-time. Having an intruder in her apartment isn't making it any better for her, or is it? (AO3)

Unfinished business: Series of snippets from my WIPs. (AO3)

'Canon' | Fix-it

My Dearest Friend and Enemy (WIP): On her way to Ellander, Yennefer decides to spend the night in Rinde. She meets more than one familiar face in the town that holds so much history for her and Geralt. Fix-it for episode 2x06, more or less. (AO3)

Flowers (One-shot): Post-Season 2. Yennefer, Ciri and Geralt have left Kaer Morhen. Geralt picks some wild flowers for Yennefer while they're taking a small break. (AO3)

Writing events

Yenralt Tropetember 2022

Day 1 - Domesticity: Laundry (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 2 - Bed sharing: Restless nights (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 3 + 4 - Everyone knows but them + Friends with benefits: Do I wanna know? (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 5 - Soulmates: Soup snakes (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 7 - Fake dating: Ultraviolet (Tumblr/AO3)

#list of fanfics #the witcher fanfiction #geralt x yennefer

22 notes · View notes

bambirex · 1 year ago

Text

The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good: Chapter 15

Pairings: Geraskefer, Yennskier, Geraskier, Yenralt

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia, Ciri of Cintra, Lambert, original male characters, Rience, Yarpen Zigrin

Additional tags: implied/referenced abuse, forced pregnancy, mpreg, creature fic, fae Jaskier, creature Jaskier, creature Yennefer, captivity, enemies to friends to lovers, polyamory, found family, hurt/comfort, it starts out angsty but it will get better, completely made-up lore, fertility issues, completely made-up skills and powers, angst, angst with a happy ending, whump, Jaskier whump, Yennefer whump, Geralt whump, Ciri whump, blood, nightmares, injury, wound care, past rape/non-con, trauma, sexually inexperienced Yennefer, sexually inexperienced Jaskier, threesome- f/m/m, mild sexual content, violence

Rating: mature

Chapters: 15/20

Full word count: 46,898 words

Chapter word count: 3,452 words

Summary: Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Chapter summary: Geralt sends Ciri, Jaskier and Yennefer away with an old friend to find a temporary safe place while he looks into the lurking threats. On the way, they run into a terrible surprise.

Author's notes: After about 5 chapters of found family sweetness, love confessions and bonding, it was time I grabbed everyone and sat you back on the angst train. I need to make things worse before they can be better again!

Read on Ao3

Geralt's chest felt heavy as he helped Jaskier, Yennefer and Ciri pack up. It became evident that his safe haven wasn't as safe as it used to be, anymore: Lambert informed him that the dwarves who helped Geralt keep an eye out for anything dangerous in the woods have seen soldiers lurking way too close to the forest around the hut. Ciri's vision also worried him. Maybe it meant that whoever wanted to get their hands on his daughter was coming closer and closer. Ciri was not safe anymore there, neither of them were. Geralt had gone through the possibility of moving somewhere else with Lambert before, but then he decided moving right then would've drawn attention to them. Now, they needed to act quick before Ciri's whereabouts were discovered.

"Where exactly are we going?" Ciri asked him, her eyes terrified. Geralt placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Yarpen can hide you for a bit. We can buy some time before we can head to Kaer Morhen."

"Who's Yarpen?" Yennefer asked. She was pale, her hands shaking badly. Geralt has never seen her so scared.

"An old friend of mine. He has a group of mercenary dwarves out in the woods. He's been helping me from afar. It's okay, you can trust him."

Geralt decided to send Jaskier and Yennefer away with Ciri. He needed his entire family safe. It shattered his heart to think they would be away from him for a while, but that was the safest option they had. Lambert had to go do his own thing, and Yarpen was the second best man Geralt would trust with his loved ones. A dwarf wagon would probably draw less attention than a feral witcher, anyway.

He would stay behind to keep the soldiers at bay. Luckily, he could get rid of them before they managed to track down Ciri and the rest of his family.

"You'll join us soon, right?" Jaskier asked. He peered up at Geralt with worried eyes. "We don't want you to get hurt..."

"I'll be okay. Look, Yarpen is here."

Geralt went ahead to greet him. Yarpen jumped off the wagon, patting the flank of his horse before he shook Geralt's hand. He looked at the rest of them, his eyes narrowing when he saw Jaskier.

"Oi," he drawled, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Not gonna go into labor in my wagon, are ye?"

"Still have some time to go, what a polite greeting," Jaskier scoffed. Yarpen held his hands up.

"Aight, but if you do, don't expect me to help. I'll get you folks to a safe place but I'm not putting my hands between no fae's legs."

"You better not," Geralt told him pointedly. Yarpen chuckled.

"Yeah, that's your job, clearly. Are you fucking the drepima, too?"

"Yarpen!"

"Sorry, mate," Yarpen said, his voice softening. "Just trying to lighten the mood, alright?"

He reached out and gently patted Ciri's shoulder, offering her the warmest smile he could muster. Ciri smiled back weakly.

"Don't worry, girl. I won't let nothing happen to ye and yer friends."

"My family," Ciri corrected him softly. Geralt smiled at her proudly.

He turned to Yennefer who stared at the wagon in distrust. He took her hand into his gently. Yennefer immediately laced their fingers together, seeking comfort.

"It's gonna be okay," Geralt told her, "we'll get through this together."

"But you're staying behind," Yennefer reminded him with a sigh. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It's what we have to do now. You need to gain some leverage over the soldiers. I'll take care of them."

He let go of Yennefer to pull Ciri into a hug. She buried her face in his chest, her arms tight around Geralt, desperately clinging to him.

"Promise me you won't get hurt," she whispered, her voice muffled with tears. "And that we won't get hurt either."

"I promise. We'll be back together in no time."

He pulled back to kiss Ciri on the forehead. He cupped her cheeks and gently wiped her tears off.

"Jaskier and Yennefer will keep you safe. And you will keep them safe in exchange. I believe in you, Ciri."

He turned back to Yennefer to kiss her on the lips, then kissed Jaskier. The fae made a soft whimper against his mouth.

"I really wanna believe you," Jaskier whispered through his tears, "that everything will be okay, but I'm scared."

"We all are," Geralt admitted. "But we need to take this step if we wanna get through this."

He went to his knees and kissed Jaskier's belly. He smiled when he felt a little kick.

He steeled himself as he watched Yennefer enter the wagon. She sent him one last, weak smile before she helped Jaskier up. Jaskier peered out the little window, his eyes full of tears as he looked at Geralt. Ciri was the last who climbed up. She lingered in the opening of the wagon. Geralt sent her a smile that he hoped was encouraging. Ciri returned it weakly.

Geralt only allowed himself to cry once the wagon was out of his sight and he was sure his family didn't see him. He was just as terrified and uncertain as them, but he needed to be strong for them - he needed to make sure no one he loved would get hurt.

The wagon was not very comfortable, and Yarpen's whistling was very off-key. The other two dwarves that traveled with them kept discussing something in their own language which Ciri didn't understand a word of. The whole situation did not help her nerves, even though she knew this truly was their best chance.

If that man from her visions was looking for her, then it was smarter to disappear from the map a little bit. The last thing she wanted was to put her family in danger. Her entire existence was the reason Cintra fell. She couldn't afford to lose any more people close to her because of her heritage.

She could only hope that Geralt would be alright, that he would manage to hold up that group of soldiers the dwarves saw, and that he would soon join them. Ciri didn't like the idea of her family missing any members.

Jaskier sang to her on the road, calming her nerves with his voice. It worked for a couple of hours, lulled her to a somewhat peaceful sleep right in Yennefer's lap before she woke again, nerves wrecking.

A whole day has passed on the road, and nothing happened. On one hand, it could have meant everything would be okay and they would reach their destination without a hitch, but Ciri also knew that often it was the most quiet before a storm.

They were well into the evening, the darkness descending down on them slowly, when Yennefer made a horrified sound. Ciri jumped. She followed Yennefer's eyes that stared out of the window of the cart, wide and terrified. Jaskier mumbled something under his nose, his voice stifled by the hand he had pressed over his mouth.

"What's wrong?" Ciri asked, scooting closer to them on the seat. Jaskier didn't reply, but Ciri noticed his breathing got quicker until he nearly hyperventilated. Ciri placed a hand on his back, trying to soothe him. Panic rose inside her own chest seeing him in such a state.

Yennefer practically leapt forward to knock on the wall of the driver's area. Yarpen turned back and opened the little window, confused.

"What are we doing here," Yennefer hissed. Her eyes turned from scared to murderous. "Why did you bring us here!?"

"Here? Where here? This is the area we need to get through to get to where we want!"

"There has to be another path!"

Ciri felt more and more at unease. Yennefer sounded about as mad as she did when she discovered Ciri lived with a witcher, back in the day, if not madder. Yarpen tried to explain to her that they couldn't find another path, but Yennefer wouldn't listen to him. She kept growling at him, her hands shaking with anger. Jaskier still breathed too quickly next to her.

"What is going on? Someone tell me, please!" Ciri pleaded. Her heart pounded like a hammer inside her chest.

"This... this is the place..." Jaskier whispered, his voice shaking badly. "The place where we... please, can we hurry up!?"

His voice went hysterical in the end. Ciri looked out the window. She saw a big, rich mansion with a metal fence. She let out a gasp as bits of her visions played in front of her eyes- metal bars, her family getting hurt, Geralt too far away. She saw the face of the man again. Cold chills ran down her spine.

"What is this place," she whispered, her entire body shaking. Yennefer finally looked at her.

"That's where we were kept," she told her, voice full of pain, "where we escaped from."

"Shit," Yarpen mumbled, "I didn't know, folks. Don't worry, they can't see inside the cart."

Ciri gripped onto the edge of her seat, trying to swallow her panic. The thought that the place her loved ones had to go through so much pain at was so close seized her heart. She didn't know what it meant that she's seen this place in her dreams, but she knew they needed to get away as quick as possible.

"Yarpen, we need to hurry!" She yelled. She reached for Jaskier and Yennefer's hands, both for their comfort and their own.

Yarpen opened his mouth to reply something, but he didn't get to finish his sentence as something knocked into the wagon hard enough to shake the entire thing. The horse neighed and bucked in distress, yanking the reins out of Yarpen's hands and running away into the night. Yarpen yelled after it, but the horse already disappeared in the darkness.

"What the fuck was that," Jaskier whispered. He clutched a protective hand over his belly as he tried to peer out the window. "What... Melitele!"

Ciri stifled a scream as she saw something grab one of Yarpen's dwarf friends and tear his head off in one quick movement. Yarpen yelled and jumped at whatever it was, but he was quickly thrown away.

"Stay in the wagon!" Yennefer ordered. Before Jaskier or Ciri could stop her, she jumped out.

"I have to help her!" Ciri yelled. Jaskier grabbed her arm, his eyes wide in panic.

"Ciri, no!"

Ciri shook off his arm and followed Yennefer. She unsheathed her sword. It was lucky she decided to take it with her, as she wasn't sure she would be able to control her powers enough to defend herself.

Her heart rattled inside her chest as she slowly walked around the wagon. She tried not to look at Yarpen's decapitated friend. She stepped on something. When she looked down, she saw the other dwarf, blood steadily oozing from the gash in his neck. His eyes were vacant, with no more life in them. Ciri swore under her breath.

Ciri needed some time to adjust her eyes to the dark, but she noticed Yennefer helping Yarpen sit up against a rock. He was alive, luckily, but his head wound looked terrible. He was unconscious.

"Yennefer, where did that thing go?"

Yennefer looked up at her voice.

"Ciri!" She hissed, "get back in the wagon! You're not safe out here!"

"Where did it go," Ciri repeated, ignoring what Yennefer said. "What the fuck was it!?"

"I don't know."

Yennefer rushed over to Ciri's side. She looked around, searching for whatever attacked them in the dark.

Ciri turned the other way to check their surroundings herself. The blood froze in her veins as she stared into the face of something - she wouldn't have called it a someone.

It looked vaguely human, with half of its face appearing the face of a man. The other side looked like it was burnt off, revealing his flesh, his eye on that side completely black. His mouth curled into a terrifying smirk, revealing sharp teeth.

Before Ciri had the chance to lift her sword, the creature knocked her down. He tore up her arm with sharp claws, making her yelp in pain.

Yennefer jumped into action, sending a burst of flame towards the thing. Instead of screaming in agony or jumping away, the creature opened its mouth and breathed fire towards Yennefer, fighting her back with the exact same weapon. Yennefer only managed to duck away in time before he burnt her face off.

The creature took advantage of Yennefer having her head down and grabbed her, throwing her out of the way. He stepped over Ciri and marched straight towards the wagon, where Jaskier was.

Ciri gasped and quickly jumped to her feet, rushing after him. He was too quick. He tore the door off and threw it away, crawling inside before Ciri managed to stop him.

Jaskier screamed and kicked out at him, but the creature didn't budge. It continued grinning as he sniffed the air, drool and blood dripping from his jaw.

"Pretty," he snarled as he sniffed at Jaskier's neck. The synella kicked at him again, trying to push him off, to no avail.

Ciri swung her sword through the air. She managed to cut the creature across his back. He let out a scream as he turned around and grabbed Ciri's sword. Ciri struggled to wrangle it out of his grasp, but he was too strong. The creature twisted the sword out of her hand and threw it away, rendering her defenseless.

Before he could open his mouth and breathe fire into her face, Yennefer flung herself out of the darkness and tackled him to the ground. The creature bit her hand, causing her blood to pour out. Yennefer took advantage of it and held her injured hand over his head. Her blood dripped into his face. The acidic poison burnt his exposed flesh, making him scream in agony.

Jaskier got out of the wagon and wrapped his arms around Ciri, trying to pull her away. The creature continued to wrestle with Yennefer, and he managed to throw her off. He stood back up, once again revealing his teeth.

He was terrifyingly strong. Ciri knew that Yennefer would have been able to defeat anyone with her powers, but this thing was too quick, too resilient. He always seemed to be one step ahead, already attacking before Yennefer could use her chaos.

Jaskier grabbed a stone and threw it at his head to try and distract him from hurting Yennefer again. The creature growled and moved towards Jaskier. Jaskier shoved Ciri away so she wouldn't get caught up in the attack.

The next few minutes were a blur. The creature knocked Jaskier down on the ground, hand gripping at his chest to keep him down. Jaskier fumbled with his hand on the grass. It started growing under the fae's touch, but the creature tore it away before the plants could twist around his neck. Whatever that thing was, it seemed almost impossible to defeat him.

Ciri crawled around in the grass, trying to find her sword. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Yennefer weakly stand from the ground. She was bruised and bloody all over, but her eyes were flaming when she noticed the creature was pinning Jaskier down.

Ciri couldn't find her sword. She swore under her breath as she stumbled through the mud on all fours, blind and desperate. The only thing she could think of was that she couldn't lose her family.

Yennefer and the creature fought each other again. Their fire scorched the grass as they shot at each other, Yennefer through her fingertips and the creature from its mouth. The flowers died where Yennefer's blood dripped, and crushed beneath both their legs as they did their deadly dance around each other.

Jaskier had trouble getting up from the ground, weighed down by his own stomach and an injury to his leg. The creature must have wounded him when he pinned him down.

Yarpen was still unconscious. Ciri wasn't completely sure he would even survive with that head wound. They were all running out of time, fighting an impossible battle against a mysterious danger.

The second Ciri finally found her sword, the weapon was kicked away again. She looked up and saw a couple men above her. One of them reached down and grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt.

She flailed around in their grasp, but they held her tight. She saw other men jump onto Yennefer, taking advantage of the fact she was too occupied with fighting the creature. They tackled her down and wrangled something around her neck, something that looked suspiciously like a collar. Ciri suddenly remembered the horrific stories Yennefer and Jaskier told her about the power suppressing collars. She realized Yennefer would be too disadvantaged now- and she was already weakened after the blows she suffered from the other creature.

Ciri watched in horror as Jaskier was also grabbed and collared. The strange creature looked battered, but its ugly snarl had a smug edge as he watched his fellow creatures getting captured.

"My, my," Ciri heard a voice, "we meet again."

It was a middle-aged man with hard eyes and a smug smirk. He stepped to Yennefer and hooked a finger under her chin. He lifted her face and tutted. Yennefer growled, but she couldn't do much with the collar dampening her skills, and her body so weakened.

"Not so feisty now, are we?"

The man grabbed a piece of Yennefer's hair and tore it out, causing her to hiss. He put it in his pocket with a chuckle.

"Where have you been wandering, you monster?"

His eyes fell to Jaskier who trembled in the men's grasp. His eyes were thunderous, though, when the man approached him.

"Long time no see, Treasure," he said. Ciri's eyes widened as she heard the nickname Jaskier has mentioned before. It was their old master, the terrible man they thought they would never have to see again.

"I see you two met my new friend, Rience. He's one of a kind, isn't he? He's a driatingex. Very famous for their speed and incredible senses, especially their sense of smell. They're trained specifically to sniff out whatever their owner asks them to. He hasn't exactly had luck tracking you down, Melitele knows where the fuck you disappeared to, but it seems like luck is finally on my side."

He shook his head at his former creatures.

"It was high time you returned to me."

"Leave them alone!"

The yell ripped out of Ciri, loud and angry. She trembled with sheer frustration in the men's grasps. Master blinked at her in surprise.

"And what is a child doing out here with my creatures? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

He laughed, and said something to his men that Ciri didn't hear. Her ears rang as her anger rose and rose. She felt her chaos fizzle under her skin as she watched her weakened, terrified family. She couldn't let them go back again, she couldn't let them be hurt again.

She closed her eyes and sought out the power within her like Yennefer taught her- and she let out a scream.

To her biggest horror, it didn't do a whole lot. Her chaos did come through, but not hard enough. The men around her stumbled, the surge of energy pushing them aside. It caused even Yennefer and Jaskier to lose their balance for a bit. Master also fell back on the ground. It was enough for a bit of distraction, but not enough to cause actual damage. Still, Ciri had to make do with what she had if she wanted to save her family.

Ciri leapt forward to try and free Jaskier and Yennefer, but she was caught by Rience and tackled down. His clawed hand was clamped over her mouth to prevent her from screaming again.

The men were back on their feet in an instant, grabbing Jaskier and Yennefer again. Master approached Ciri who was still struggling under Rience. His eyes had a morbid, disgusting glint of fascination in them.

"You are no ordinary child, it seems. What are you?" he whispered as he leant down. Ciri growled, then bit down on Rience's hand as hard as she could muster. The creature let out a yelp and his grip loosened.

Ciri managed to free her head, but before she could try and bring her chaos forward again, she felt a hard hit against the side of her head.

The pain seared up, and then the world went dark.

#geraskefer #geraskier #yennskier #yenralt #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #ciri #the world is yours if you seek the good

6 notes · View notes