#yes i had geralt name his baby after the ridiculous ass name he made up for himself

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

could you pretty please write something like... 👉🏻👈🏻

(streamer Geralt au) years later, geralt is playing, suddenly he is killed by an enemy and screams (everyone thinks it's funny how geralt gets so involved when he is playing)

then the baby starts crying and geralt soon gets up in a hurry and grabs him in his arms, laughing a lot and feeling guilty because he forgot that jaskier left their son sleeping next to him before going to take a shower

(I'm sorry if this is confusing, I used the translator)

me: I’m stressed af and probably not going to be posting as much also me: posts ficlets two days in a row me: Never did I promise consistency

Nonie this is a fucking delightful prompt and I'm so glad you sent it to me.

Warnings: swearing and a crying baby that is quickly soothed. its pretty soft if I do say so myself

_____________

“Nah, guys. No new merch yet. I’m still looking for something other than “Hi fuckers” to put on a sweatshirt,” Geralt laughed as he responded to the chat box on his stream, “Shit, you’re right. “I don’t get paid enough for that” could work. Just not sure the merch company would be cool with insinuating porn? I’ll check though.” 

He continued setting up his game and responding to whichever messages caught his eye as he went, throwing a, “I’m too damn old for this,” out to the few trolls before he blocked them. As he started the main quest Jaskier ducked in the room, carrying their three-month-old baby boy. Jask could just barely be seen in the frame but being a regular fixture he was on the channel, Geralt’s fans instantly picked him up. Geralt had reached a difficult section though and was thoroughly ignoring the chat in favor of not dying. 

“Babe, I have to shower. Eric is sleeping, I’m just going to set him in the bassinet for a bit, m’kay?”

Geralt looked over at Jaskier setting the baby down, a disgustingly sweet and fond look on his face, “M’kay. Love you.” 

Jaskier made a little detour to place a kiss on the top of his head before he left, mumbling a little, “Love you too,” that the mic couldn’t pick up. 

Geralt watched him go and was only reminded of his game when a monster came right up and attacked, making his controller vibrate in his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered before getting back to the task at hand. 

Minutes passed and he was completely engrossed in the game, getting grumbly as things got more difficult and his character nearly died twice. When he finally got snuck up on and the screen cut to black he shouted and swore. There was about a two-second delay where Geralt knew he fucked up before the crying started.

Eric made a few confused whimpers before he all-out wailed. 

Geralt tossed his controller onto his desk and launched out of his chair to scoop him up, “Hey buddy, Papa’s sorry. Oh, I know you were sleeping so well too, weren’t you? I’m sorry, baby boy. I’m sorry.”

He walked in little bouncy circles and rubbed Eric’s back until he stopped whimpering and was snoring on Geralt’s shoulder. 

“Hey guys, I gotta go. We’re still trying to get him back on a sleep schedule after the trip to Dad’s. I’ll post on twitter when the make-up stream will be,” he whispered as he settled back into his chair and save & quit his game. Before he signed off he caught a couple comments about playing with the baby on his chest. Something about how cute it would be and how sweet he was, “No, my brother’s a biopsychologist. No screens or video games for the little tyke, even asleep. Eskel would kill me. But he’s pretty fuckin cute isn’t he?” 

Geralt beamed as he turned sideways so the viewers could see Eric’s chubby little cheek squished against Geralt’s collar bone before whispering, “Bye fuckers,” and ending the stream. 

He gingerly stood and picked up the baby blanket out of the bassinet with his foot, a move he learned came in handy with a little one, and bundled Eric up as he walked down the hall to their usual nap spot. Settling into the recliner was a production when he had to move slowly and keep the spring from popping too loud, but he was soon laying back with Eric centered over his breast bone so he wouldn’t fall one way or the other. 

When Jaskier finished with his shower both Eric and Geralt were snoring away. 

[belettewrites]

Some mountains and a dog part 6

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“That was half of my bread, dear, did you give yours to the dog again? You’re going to teach him terrible manners, darling.”

Hand still reaching across the table, Geralt glared at Jaskier – well, tried to. They were sitting in front of each other, just like the day before, and were currently having breakfast with Violet and Lila, bread and milk and jam set in front of them.

It was hard to glare at Jaskier, especially when his friend was batting his eyelashes innocently – it made Geralt want to kiss him, and that was something he tried to avoid thinking about. That path only led to heartbreak and loneliness, better not to follow it.

And he hadn’t given his bread to the dog, thank you very much, even though said dog had put his head on Geralt’s thigh and was looking at him with pleading eyes. It was difficult to resist, but Geralt managed.

“Here,” he said instead, “have my milk.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, and he took the bowl, cheeks pink. Charcoal whined.

“He’s never going to stop now,” Violet giggled.

“I… can see that.”

Jaskier chuckled, and Geralt pet Charcoal. His long fur was shedding all over the place, and Geralt was looking at his black pants knowing that he would have white and gray fur on it by the time they would leave.

“I’ll leave before midday,” Geralt announced, “and I’ll likely be back tonight. Don’t wait for me,” he added for Jaskier, knowing it was useless and that he would come back to a very much awake bard anxiously pacing the room.

He didn’t use to do that, before; Geralt could leave and Jaskier seemed to not give a single fuck, happy to see him coming back but not worried like he was now, not to the point of not being able to fall asleep without knowing if Geralt had come back safe and uninjured.

Geralt didn’t know what he was going to face, but he wasn’t worried; whatever it was, it was only taking a few sheep – if it had truly been that dangerous, it would have gone after the two wives at that point. And it hadn’t killed the dog, so it likely took the sheep only to eat them. Much to think about.

“I’ll need help today.” Lila said to Jaskier, likely to stop him from worrying about Geralt.

“I’ll be happy to assist you,” Jaskier replied seriously, and Geralt half smiled, knowing that Jaskier wouldn’t be alone while he was away, even if it only was for an afternoon and an evening. He knew how dark thoughts could plague someone, and didn’t wish for Jaskier to suffer through that.

They ate in silence for a while, Geralt having given up all pretenses and petting the dog with one hand while awkwardly trying to eat with the other, under Jaskier’s amused glances.

The sun was passing through the windows and warming Geralt’s back. It was nice, very different from breakfasts at Kaer Morhen which were always punctuated by Lambert’s taunts and Vesemir’s warnings. Here they were eating in a companionable silence; but it still felt a bit like home, like every time he ate somewhere and Jaskier was there.

As if he had felt that Geralt was thinking about him, Jaskier glanced up and smiled at him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes – he really was that worried, then. Geralt nodded and slightly frowned at him, hoping that it would convey the reassurance that his friend needed. It seemed to be enough, because Jaskier’s smile became less painful and a little bit more sincere.

“So,” the bard started, “Why is your dog named Charcoal?”

“Because he was mostly black when he was a baby,” Lila sighed, “and my dear Violet thought it was just the perfect name.”

“Isn’t it?” Violet smiled. “He’s black, white and gray – just like charcoal!”

The dog, having heard his name, was looking at them with hope, thinking he would get something to eat.

“Yes, we’re talking about you, you idiot,” Lila chuckled, “now go back to bothering Geralt, will you?”

Geralt had asked them to stop calling him Sir the day before. Jaskier had said that it made him sound like a knight, which was a ridiculous idea if Geralt had ever heard one.

“Don’t worry,” Jaskier said, his eyes shining with mischief, “my- Geralt here named his horse Roach of all names, so we won’t judge you. He keeps on insisting that she’s named after the fish, but you know.”

Lila raised an eyebrow at Jaskier.

“So you understand my pain.”

“Yes I do,” Jaskier faux sighed, shooting a smile at Geralt, “yes I do.”

***

After breakfast, Geralt went upstairs to make sure he had everything for his hunt before leaving, while Jaskier stayed and helped Lila to wash the dishes they had used. They had gathered them in a large bucket, and Jaskier had watched with fascination as Lila poured water into it. It was cold water, but it would do. They had settled in front of the house, on the table that was there, left to the door. Jaskier had no doubt that Violet and Lila sometimes ate outside. The morning sun was warming them up, shining in a bright blue sky that promised an even warmer afternoon.

Soap in hand, towels ready, they started working in silence, Jaskier lost in thoughts about his witcher and the danger he would face that night. Surely it wasn’t something serious, right? And Jaskier would have to change some details to make the ballad worthy of being listened to. Yes, that was what would happen. Geralt would come back, uninjured, grumpy but relieved because the beast had turned out to be not much of a threat in the end.

“Is it always like this?” Lila asked as she passed a plate to Jaskier, who proceeded to dry it out with a towel. She didn’t need to specify what was the thing she was asking about for Jaskier to understand.

“Yes,” he sighed, “but sometimes I get to go with him. And when I can’t, I still follow him – I used to do that a lot, when we first met, partly because I was worried that he would leave without me, and partly because Geralt is shit at telling me what happened. He’d go ‘there was a wyvern, I killed it’ and not add anything else,” he added as Lila giggled, “so a bard must do what he has to do.”

“Doesn’t seem like he’d abandon you now,” Lila remarked.

“No,” Jaskier smiled, eyes turning to the windows of their room then back to his task, “We’ve been through a lot since that, and I like to believe that he would at least warn me before leaving. Though he’s still shit at telling what happens on his hunts, let me tell you,” he chuckled.

They finished to clean and dry the dishes, Jaskier humming and Lila trying to sing along. It was nice, and it reminded Jaskier of when he and Essi had to do the chores in their room at Oxenfurt. He wondered how she was doing, hoping that she had managed to escape Nilfgaard as the army had made its way through the continent. She had to be fine, though – Essi always was, even surviving to a sickness that had killed thousands.

“So, what will we do now?” Jaskier asked once the dishes had been put away.

“We’ll go to the sheep shed, check on them. Violet will be out with Charcoal until mid-afternoon.”

“Let’s go, then!” he replied, trying to sound as cheerful as he could to keep his worry at bay, and they made their way to the wooden cabin that was located near the house.

***

Geralt was standing in their room, looking at his bag and thinking about what it was that he could have forgotten. He had been doing this for so long that it was extremely unlikely that he had forgotten anything, but a confident witcher was a dead one, and so he always checked twice that everything was ready for his hunt.

He had everything he needed. Potions, swords, everything was ready and he just had to leave. He wasn’t worried, which usually tended to bite him in the ass, but he could feel that this time nothing wrong would happen during his hunt. He had Jaskier to come back to, and a daughter now, he couldn’t afford to be reckless. And not being worried didn’t mean not being careful – worry only overclouded his judgment and made it hard to think practically. It was one of the reasons he didn’t want Jaskier to go on hunts with him – he couldn’t focus if he knew that his bard was in danger. Knowing that Jaskier had powers helped, though only just a bit: they were almost useless in a fight, unless wyverns had an interest for botany that he wasn’t aware of.

He sighed, looking around the room. Jaskier had tidied his things before going downstairs that morning, making sure his doublet was on the chair so as not to wrinkle it. His cloak was draped over the other chair, the three little dandelions that had been sewn on it half hidden by the thick fabric folded over itself.

Geralt made the bed, a habit that had been beaten into him at Kaer Morhen and that he hadn’t shaken off – also because he actually went back to Kaer Morhen every winter and Vesemir would skin him alive if he let his bed like this. That, and Jaskier liked to come back to a nice looking bed, and Geralt liked when Jaskier was happy.

He could hear him and Lila talking outside as they washed the dishes, but did not care enough to listen – it was rude and he had manners, no matter what Jaskier said. And he had no doubt that should his friend need him, he’d scream. But it was peaceful here, and there was no need for him to worry about Jaskier being in danger, because he was the one about to face the most dangerous thing around. Though Geralt doubted that it was that dangerous: Jaskier and him had been sleeping in the woods for a few days and nothing had attacked them, nor did he actually hear that something was out there.

Maybe the sheep had just escaped? But no, it couldn’t be that, it wouldn’t explain how the dog had been attacked and injured so badly.

Geralt sighed, and after glancing at the sun in the sky to see if it was close to midday, decided to meditate before leaving. He vaguely heard the sound of dishes being put away, then nothing at all.

***

He heard nothing but the silence of an empty house when he woke up from his meditative state, and concluded that Jaskier and Lila had left to go see the sheep. Violet, from what he had gathered, was spending her days outside while her wife stayed near the house – he didn’t know why, he would have to ask Jaskier if he remembered to do so. He liked to do that – ask Jaskier about the things going on around them. The bard seemed to always know the latest gossip – though Geralt refused to call them that. It was… intelligence. Nothing else.

Swords on his back, bag with potions at his side, he made his way downstairs, careful not to knock over the plants that had been delicately put on the stairs – why would they do that was beyond him, as it was not practical at all, and he nearly fell by avoiding to crush a succulent that had not been there yesterday. Jaskier’s doing, without any doubt.

It was time for Geralt to leave, but he didn’t want to do so without telling Jaskier, knowing the bard would worry, and somehow unable to go away without saying goodbye to his friend first. He didn’t want to cause Jaskier anguish, had vowed to himself to never be the cause of the bard’s painful thoughts again, at least not willingly.

He found him just like he had guessed, with Lila in the sheep shed. Jaskier had his back turned to Geralt, and was currently holding – something. Lila was facing him but apart from raising her eyebrows, didn’t say anything.

“Jask,” Geralt said, not too loud to avoid scaring him but apparently unexpectedly enough for Jaskier to jump before turning around.

And-

He was holding a lamb.

“Yes, dear?” he said with a little nervous laugh that showed that Geralt had indeed surprised him. “Oh, you’re leaving, isn’t it?”

He was- he was quite adorable, actually. “Cute”, one might even say, one that wasn’t Geralt of course. He still thought it.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying not to be blinded by the picture that Jaskier made at this instant. Ruffled hair, cornflower eyes shining with mirth and a bit of sadness, a dark blue shirt and, held in his arms as if it were the most precious thing ever, a small white lamb which had closed its eyes and put its head on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Geralt finally managed to reply, eyes not leaving Jaskier’s soft smile. He walked closer, and the smile widened.

“Have you seen him? And he’s so soft, Geralt, really, you ought to pet him, look how cute he is!”

“Hmm,” he said, because he didn’t exactly trust his voice at the moment, too focused on not telling Jaskier that he was the picture of innocence and that Geralt loved him so much.

“Of course you’d say that,” Jaskier chuckled before growing serious again. “Be careful, darling. I- be careful.”

“I will,” Geralt promised before leaning in and kissing Jaskier on the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got to go now, can’t wait any longer. Behave,” he added, briefly touching Jaskier’s shoulder, knowing that it was an empty threat.

Nodding to Lila, he walked out of the sheep shed, still haunted by the vision of Jaskier holding the lamb, how carefree he had looked, though a certain melancholy seemed to hang around him.

So haunted by that vision, in fact, that it was only once he was deep in the forest that he realized what he had just done.

“Fuck,” he said to no one in particular, and mostly to himself.

The song of the birds above his head suddenly sounded a little bit more mocking than it had earlier.