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cosmos-coma · 2 years

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A Gift from Above - Part 7

A/N: Part 7!!!! We’re almost done,and I think there's just one more chapter left! This was..... extremely hard for me to write for various reasons, but hopefully it’s as okay for you all as it is for me.

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: implied sex (It’s kinda let off to you to decide), bodily scars/wounds, unbeta’d

Word count: 3.3 K

Summary: You wake up in Kaer Morhen with Eskel watching over you. Though you’re a mix of emotions you reflect a bit on your life and your relationship with your beloved Witcher. but it feels like something is missing...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

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Your surroundings were warm and soft as you woke, eyes still closed as you refused to fully step into the waking world. You were laying on your side, your face resting on what felt like soft furs and you could feel the blanket slip off your shoulders as you shifted to get more comfortable. As you made to move, the spotty pains on your back and the ache deep in your chest pulled you back to the present. You opened your eyes now and glanced down at yourself. Your torso was completely wrapped with bandages with a few extending over your shoulders. A soft blush colored your cheeks and you couldn’t help but imagine Eskel lovingly tending to your bare form.

You craned your neck to look at your surroundings, taking in the stone walls standing tall around you and the rolling flames in the fireplace. There was only a single bed, which you occupied, that was piled with furs and a couple of blankets. The room was obviously lived in as small personal items were scattered about here and there and a mirror leaned against the far corner.

As you fully stepped into consciousness your head spun with all the memories of the General and his plan as they came rushing back to you. However, they faded just as fast as you saw a single chair beside you, occupied by your sleeping Witcher with his trademark red and black tunic and deep scars cradling his cheek. Your anxiety ebbed as you remembered the comforting flash of Eskel’s golden eyes before you had fallen unconscious that day.

Flexing your stiff fingers, you reached out slowly and touched his arm. “My dearest Witcher…” you spoke hoarsely.

Eskel jumped a bit, startled by the sudden touch, but his face quickly broke into a wide smile when he laid eyes on you. “Y/n…” he said, quickly moving to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “You’re finally awake. I thought… after everything…” he started, but couldn't bring himself to finish. You shook your head and took his hand, bringing it to your chest so he could feel your steady heartbeat.

“I thought so too… But I’m still here…” You lifted his hand to your lips, still moving lazily as the ache residing in your bones hadn’t let up yet.

You two had been moving slowly in your relationship as of late, both of you feeling hesitation as you were faced with the new feelings you brought out in each other, but now you saw no reason to hold back. You had almost been lost to this world, to your Witcher, and you didn’t want to waste time any longer.

Holding his arm, you carefully moved yourself to sit upright, the blankets falling away from you. “Speaking of… where is ‘here’ exactly?” You asked as Eskel moved to sit more behind you, propping you up gently against his chest.

You could hear the smile in his voice as he tugged the blankets over your lap, making sure you were warm. “I guess I didn't do the descriptions justice then. We’re at Kaer Morhen…” he explained “Ciri brought us back here. She’s gotten a confidence boost in using her magic lately and thankfully it’s well-founded.”

He brought me back to Kaer Morhen…? To his home and family? You couldn't help but grin at the thought and lean your head back against his shoulder. “You brought me back to the keep..?”

He let out a small short chuckle and leaned in, brushing his nose against your temple as he took in your scent. “Of course, Y/n. I… admit I was a bit unsure at first…” he said as he shifted his weight around awkwardly. “... but after losing you once. I don't ever want to lose you again ....” He said quietly and pressed his forehead against yours, lips just brushing your temple as he also no longer felt the overwhelming hesitations from before.

The corners of your lips upturned softly at the contact he made. “You won't… never again…” you said as you turned to him, heart softening at the warm honey-like eyes staring back at you.

With seemingly perfect timing, the rumbling of your stomach interrupted the moment and you both let out a laugh. “Let’s go get you some food, my Dear….” he said as he helped you up, hands careful against you as he touched your back.

He grabbed one of the spare dresses from your bag, loose enough that it wouldn’t restrict you, and slipped it over your head. Carefully, you tugged it down over your bandages and took his hand once more.

“How are you feeling?” Eskel asked and led you towards the kitchens, slowing his pace to match yours and putting a hand around your waist.

“Besides my back, It feels like my insides have a third-degree sunburn…” You sighed wearily and furrowed your brows together. “But I think I just need time.”

Eskel nodded and went into the kitchen with you, never leaving your side as he went about the kitchen pulling a quick meal together. You tried to help here and there, but mostly used this time to familiarize yourself with where everything was.

The two of you sat in the large hall to eat as Eskel went over how to find your way around when rushing feet came into the hall.

“Y/N!” Ciri’s voice rang out, as she rushed in to plop down beside you, followed by Geralt who came in much slower than the rushing girl, but still with a small warm smile.

You grinned as Ciri came into view “Hello, Ciri…” you said and nudged her with your elbow. “Did I hear the rumors correctly? Did you bring us back here?” You couldn’t help but feel proud of your good friend, as you had come to see her.

Ciri grinned proudly in front of you, no longer bothered with putting on her serious facade as Geralt spoke up. “It's true… even got it the second time around…” he said with a smirk, trying not to laugh. “Accidentally took a detour to the coast before we came up.”

“I prefer to think of it as the scenic route,” Ciri said, gently hitting his elbow as she tried to put a good spin on it.

“Alright, what’s all the noise about, didn’t I give you all chores to finish?” Said a voice from down the hall, soon followed by a rather hardened-looking older Witcher with hair of a whitish-gray hue.

The older Witcher’s outward composure barely changed as he came closer to the table and saw you, but he did regard you with a gentler voice. “I see Eskel’s guest has finally woken up. How are your wounds fairing?” he asked you. “You had some pretty nasty marks when you came in...”

This must be Vesemir. You smiled a bit as you thought. Eskel’s descriptions were spot on; Vesemir always sounded annoyed and perturbed, but he softens up a bit when his boys bring around someone new.

“Getting better, I think… You must Be Vesemir,” you said and introduced yourself, putting out your hand to shake.

The old Witcher smiled a little down at you and shook your hand. “It’s not often that my reputation precedes me. I can only hope Eskel was telling you the good things,” he said with a gravelly voice that you felt only added to his seemingly surly disposition

“More or less…” you said, fighting back a bit of a grin as the older man joined the group at the table.

He nodded in satisfaction and then turned to address the whole group “Now that we have the whole party on their feet…” he started. “Why the hell are you all so early and beaten up at that? You all easily have half a week- maybe double, before you usually show…” He said looking around at all the faces before him.

Ciri fiddled with her armor needlessly and looked at Geralt to answer, but Geralt had already looked at Eskel expectantly. Eskel however, was looking at you, as you were the only one who really knew what happened or why that day.

You played with your food a bit as the tingling nervousness of being in the hot seat crept up your spine. “Right… well I guess from my perspective it went along the lines of this…” you started and began to relay what you remembered after you were taken. You recounted in detail to Vesemir your magic and its origins, the path of life you had taken, and the things you could do. However, as you got to the topic of the General you began glossing over your tale a bit, feeling Eskel’s anger getting riled up again at your retelling. Under the table, you rested your hand over Eskel’s and continued explaining what the General wanted, something of which you couldn't provide, and the aftermath of his “persuasion”.

Vesemir stayed quiet and listened, nodding as you told your story, and then turned to Geralt and Eskel. “Do we have reason to believe Nilfgaard will come knocking at the loss of their general?” He asked with the safety of the keep and its inhabitants in mind.

Geralt shook his head. “No. If I understand the situation, the General had been acting outside of, and against the emperor’s orders to pull back their efforts. He may send scouts to investigate Menders, but there shouldn't be anything to tie back to anyone here” he said and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Vesemir nodded in satisfaction once again and thought for another moment. “You know… There have been instances recorded like this one, with someone reportedly being blessed with magic by their gods. Many got used for political purposes or even tried to overthrow empires themselves, but if I recall, they also didn’t live very long either.”

“Their hubris would get the better of them, and they’d use more magic than their bodies knew what to do with. Others claimed that it was their gods putting an end to them for straying too far from their path and their destiny. No one can say for certain…” He continued and looked to you, not necessarily in warning or judgment, but in something more guiding. “But it seems someone wanted you to stay alive. Consider yourself lucky… and perhaps that your job is not over yet.”

A quiet shiver went down your spine at Vesemir's words and prophecy, and all you could do was nod in response.

“Leave it to Vesemir to give a foreboding lesson to someone in the first hour of meeting them…” Ciri quipped, lightening the mood despite Vesemir giving her a light shove.

“Ah… it sounds like you’d prefer to read all of Brother Adalbert’s entries on types of trolls tomorrow rather than run the wall in training,” Vesemir said to the youngling with a raised eyebrow.

You all laughed and smiled as Ciri tried to take back her playful antics without much success, quickly resigning as Vesemir threatened to tack on various types of golems to her lesson list for the following day.

Soon enough, everyone had grabbed food for dinner and sat down to eat, jest, and recount a few tales of their past year, though they saved the most exciting ones for the arrival of their last brother who they expected in, at most, a few days' time.

When you had finished eating and talking you stood and excused yourself to retire back to your shared room. Though when Eskel went to follow you Vesemir held him back, telling the young Witcher that it was his night to clean up since he had been free of chores while he waited for you to wake. Eskel’s face flashed mild disappointment as he gathered the dishes, but you assured him you would find your way back safely and be waiting for him when he was done.

As the light started to wane from the sky you made your way back over to Eskel’s room on your own, though it took you a few guesses before you found it right. You came in and relit the dead fire, bringing its glowing embers back to life and casting the room in its glow once more. The light of the fire lit up your skin and warmed you gently when you stood close. You took a second to warm your fingers before unlacing your dress and letting it fall to your feet ungracefully.

With skilled fingers you unwrapped the bandages from your torso, rolling them into a ball before tossing them onto the bed. You turned your back to the mirror and looked over your shoulder to see the spotty and twisted burns over the length of your back and sides, creeping up your shoulders. The burns were still soft and weeping as they healed, though someone had taken care to put some healing balm over them before wrapping you up.

Gazing at them now, you knew you would never truly be rid of these burns. Their scars would live forever on your skin as a reminder of mankind's lust for power. You stretched your arm around you, reaching over to touch one gently, and channeled your magic into your fingers to heal yourself.

Only… the warmth of your magic did not come. Nothing did, and your wound stayed as open as it was before. Drawing your brows together, you tried again and again, but nothing ever healed.

‘Your magic can be taken back at any time’ your gods had warned you in the beginning and now it was coming back to you.

Your heart fell and your chest became cold and vacant like the void of night. The magic you had learned to live with and love had been ripped from under you and left you falling to the ground below. You had left your temple, followed your own path, and now you were left wondering what exactly you were going to do.

You saw worry and a touch of frustration flash across your face as you watched yourself in the mirror. You brought your hand to your chest, fingers barely brushing your thrumming skin as you made sure the open void wasn't really there. A relieved sigh broke through your lips and into the chilly autumn air that still inhabited the room as you found yourself still physically whole.

Lost in the noise of your thoughts you barely heard the door open, but quickly scrambled to lift your dress as soon as you registered it. Looking over to see who it was you saw Eskel’s reddened face and his eyes darting away as you looked over.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have knocked ....” he said, darting his eyes over you quickly, taking a second to get up to your eyes and focus again. “But I came because we should clean your wounds” he finally explained, holding up the large bucket of water as if to prove to you he wasn't lying.

You felt the void in your chest fade slightly as you watched your beloved Witcher and you couldn't help but smile and wave your hand as a small laugh bubbled from your lips. “It’s still your room, Eskel. There's no need to knock” you smiled softly and came over to him. “Besides, it’s nothing you wouldn’t have seen when you bandaged me up, right?” you said as you poked his side teasingly. “Will you help me get my back?”

He turned to you with a smile, still a soft touch of residual pink on his face “Of course, my dear.”

Eskel set up a warm shallow bath as you gathered some soap and washcloths from your bag. Ever the gentleman, he looked away as you dropped your dress again and sank into the water.

“It's okay... I don't mind so long as it's you.” You smiled softly as you sank in, looking at him as he knelt down beside you, washcloth in hand.

Eskel let his eyes now dance down your body openly, taking you in completely. You felt a little nervous under another's gaze, but as you watched his eyes look over you without a look of disgust or pity at your new and old marks you relaxed. In fact, it looked as though his eyes held the same love and affection you yourself felt when you looked at him.

You hummed happily as he washed down your back, his large calloused hands showing tender love and care as he grazed over each warped wound. You let out a soft and pleased moan as his hand moved down your lower back, eliciting a quick inhale from your Witcher.

You twisted your body and leaned against the side of the tub to watch his focused hands work. His eyes shimmered with a warmth that rivaled the heat coming off the crackling fire. The light of the flames flickered in contrast to that of the dying light of the evening, illuminating every valley and arch of his subtle features. Watching your beloved Witcher work like this now made one thing evident to you.

I love him. The full phrase had never crossed your mind before now, just the jumbled and abstract feelings you couldn’t finish piecing together. But now you had the words. I love, I love, I love him.

As you took in these thoughts of yours you leaned back and reached your hand out to gently grasp his chin. Urging him in closer, you captured his lips in a slow but passionate kiss. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit into it a bit as you felt his soapy fingers come up to touch your cheek gently. Pulling back just enough you murmured against his lips “Join me...?”

“Y/n… you need to be resting…” he argued, though he made no move to pull back from you or your light grasp on him.

“Then just lay with me....”

```

Eskel drained the tub and undressed as you got out to dry yourself and put on your underclothes. He climbed into bed, laying back as he watched you add another log into the fire before coming back over.

Opening his arms for you, you climbed right in, straddling his lap and leaning forward to lay your head over his collarbone. A warm buzz ran over his skin as your chest pressed against his and your breath came out hot against his neck. Fighting with his better judgment, he reminded himself that you needed rest. You two would have all winter to grow intimate and warm each other on the coldest of nights.

The fireplace crackled in the background as Eskel hummed out a contented sigh at your touch. Your fingers traced lightly over the mountains and valleys of his skin, swirling past his medallion and down the length of his arm. Smiling, he tucked his nose into your hair, breathing in the comforting scent of lily of the valley and damp forest as his arms wrapped snugly around your hips.

To Eskel, the world felt right at this moment. You were back at his side, safely tucked against his chest, the walls of the keep surrounding you both in safety. His family was either here or on their way and you seemed to get along with the old Witcher he grew to see as a father.

His mind was torn away from these thoughts as his skin prickled with a rousing heat. You had pressed a few lazy kisses to his chest and neck and your fingers traced lower and lower down his front. And though he knew you needed rest he began to think that maybe the two of you could stand to indulge while you recovered.

Just this once.

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Tag list: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight

#if i missed a warning let me know #soft and melancholy are what i do best #im just glad i ended up getting this one out #it took me a lot longer to write this up than I wanted it to but hey its done!!!#a gift from above #game!eskel #Eskel #witcher eskel #the Witcher #eskel x reader #eskel x you #eskel x y/n #geralt of rivia #ciri witcher

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 4 years

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Downward Goat (Part 1/?)

“What kind of yoga?” Eskel looks in dismay at his employee, Deidre, who is normally a sensible young woman with great ideas, except for when she suggests things like…

“Goat yoga,” Deidre says briskly. “It’s the latest yoga trend.”

“Is it like hot yoga?”

She gives him an exasperated look. “No, hot yoga is hot. Goat yoga has goats.”

“But why?”

“Because people love goats. Especially baby ones, which we’re going to have plenty of in the next couple of weeks.” Deidre nods towards the pregnant does grazing in the paddock.

“But goats are loud. And they smell.”

“I think that adds to the charm,” Deidre says. “Look, it’s been a rough year.”

“Well aware.” Kaer Morhen Farms is struggling and if Eskel doesn’t have a profitable season, he’ll have to close down the farm he inherited from his foster father, Vesemir. The thought of having to break that news to Vesemir fills him with shame.

“But I think this could be good for us! Bellbrooke Farms charges twenty crowns per person, obviously split between them and the instructor. They get about fifteen people per class. If we hold classes three times a week— I’m thinking a weekend, a morning, and an evening class just to hit all our bases—”

Eskel holds up his hand. “Wait, an instructor?”

“Well, were you planning to teach it?” she asks dryly.

Eskel snorts at the idea of trying to twist his burly form into graceful yoga poses. “Unlikely.”

“Don’t worry.” Deidre waves a dismissive hand. “I know a guy.”

***

It only takes twenty minutes after Deidre posts about goat yoga on social media for Eskel to get a call from Lambert. “Goat yoga?” his little brother asks through peals of laughter.

Eskel sits on his front porch with a cup of coffee tea in hand, watching as the sun sets over the Blue Mountains in the distance. “It’s apparently the new yoga trend.”

“Yoga has trends?”

“According to Deidre.”

“Are the goats going to do yoga?”

“No, they’re just there for ambiance.”

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit.”

“Lucrative bullshit, allegedly.”

“Was it your idea to call it Downward Goat Yoga?”

Eskel grimaces. “No, that was all Deidre.”

There’s the murmur of a male voice in the background and Lambert groans. “Aiden says to sign him up.”

Eskel grins. Since there’s no one but the goats around, he doesn’t have to worry about his scars stretching. “Tell him he gets a discount for staying married to your cranky ass.”

“He thinks my ass is my best—”

Eskel hangs up on him.

***

Eskel forgets all about goat yoga over the next few weeks. He has four does give birth, farmer market season starts so he’s traveling around Kaedwen constantly to sell his wares, and his niece, Ciri, turns twelve. There’s so much to do that he barely pays attention to Deidre’s updates on how many people are signed up for Downward Goat Yoga and how the preparations are going. He mostly puts it out of his mind until he’s fixing a collapsed fence one morning and hears a warm, smooth voice behind him say, “You must be Eskel.”

Eskel brushes sweaty hair out of his face and turns around. He nearly drops his hammer when he sees the man standing behind him. He’s probably in his early-to-mid-twenties, tall and broad-shouldered with startlingly blue eyes and a brilliant smile. A generous amount of chest hair peeks out from under his bright pink tank top.

“I’m Jaskier.” The man holds out his hand to shake. “Deidre’s told me so much about you.”

Eskel hurriedly wipes some of the sweat and dirt off his palm and shakes Jaskier’s hand. He’s acutely aware that after a morning of physical labor in the hot sun, he’s a complete mess.

“Thanks for putting this together,” Jaskier says.

Eskel manages to find his voice. “Deidre did most of the work.” He lets his gaze drop and notices that Jaskier is wearing electric purple leggings decorated with cartoon images of goats.

Jaskier looks down with a self-deprecating smile. “Too on the nose?”

“No.” Eskel clears his throat. The leggings are skin tight and leave nothing to the imagination— not the swell of his ass, the muscled thickness of his thighs, the graceful curve of his calves, or the generous bulge in the front of his pants. “They’re, um… they’re nice.”

“Thanks.” Jaskier does a little wiggle that should look ridiculous on a grown man. Eskel’s mouth goes dry. “I mean, what’s the point of a job like this if I can’t wear fun pants?”

Eskel aims to say something witty, charming, and maybe a little flirty. What comes out is, “Hngh.”

Jaskier’s smile widens. “A pleasure to meet you, Eskel. You should join the class sometime.”

Eskel shakes his head. “Yoga’s not my thing. I’m not flexible at all.”

“Oh, I think you might surprise yourself.” Jaskier’s gaze flickers up and down Eskel’s body. “I offer private lessons, if that’s more your thing.”

“Jaskier!” Deidre calls before Eskel can figure out what the hell he’s supposed to say to that. “Come on, you were supposed to be set up five minutes ago!”

“Ah, duty calls.” Jaskier grins. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Eskel can feel his face turning red. “Yeah, you too.”

As Jaskier walks away, Eskel does his best not to stare at the other man’s ass. He fails spectacularly. Maybe goat yoga wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. He may need to give Deidre a raise.

Next time: Eskel gets to know Jaskier a little better and Jaskier makes a new four-legged friend.

#the witcher #jaskel #jeskel #eskel x jaskier #eskel/jaskier #jaskier #eskel #modern au #my fic #my writing

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ethereaiin · 3 years

Note

pspsps a2 waltzing would be pretty snazzy of you

features; you and a2

[au]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Ever since you were young your mother has always been strict, especially when it came to how you presented yourself. You were the daughter of the only grand duke in the kingdom and she thought it was imperative that you appear as perfect as your title suggested.

Being the sole heiress to the grand duchy held many benefits but forced just as many responsibilities onto you, which your mother oversaw with a keen eye. While you were given the best education in the country and excelled in various aspects of etiquette, there was only one subject you had trouble mastering.

Dancing.

You weren’t sure what it was about it that caused you so much trouble. You had the best instructors around, the top dancers handpicked by your meticulous mother, yet even they were still not enough to instill the precise movements of a basic waltz into your head. You couldn’t even count the number of hours you spent watching them elegantly sail across the ballroom floor, spinning and stepping in sync with the music before one of them offered their hand out for you to put all you saw into practice. Yet it would only end with you stepping on your instructor’s toes or dancing the wrong part altogether.

Your instructors never once told you what exactly you were doing wrong. They merely smiled lightly, shifting uncomfortably on their bruised toes as they spoke insincere assurances that you definitely improved from the previous session. But you knew it all to be lies. You danced nothing like them. Not as graceful, nor as nimble.

Compared to them, you were akin to a newborn fawn who just learned to use their legs. At this rate, there was no way you were going to be able to dance at your coming-of-age celebration without embarrassing yourself completely. Your mother would never let you see the light of day if you managed to step on the toes of your partner and you can’t even imagine the disappointment from your father.

You were the grand duke’s heir, after all, there was no room for mistakes. Even for something so minor as dancing. Already, you can imagine the face your mother would make when she witnesses your terrible dancing tomorrow during practice.

“She’s gonna kill me when she finds out.” You sighed as you sunk deeper in your seat, a plate of cookies placed before you alone with a steaming cup of tea. Many thoughts clouded you, many of them pertaining to your mother and some of them belonging to your beloved. “There’s no way I’m going to give him that promised dance. . .”

By him, you meant your unofficial fiance, Cirian Lacan. While you two were not yet formally engaged, you’ve been promised to each other since birth. It was an age-old agreement that had yet to be fulfilled due to the fact that both of your respective families had never produced children of opposite genders. Well, until now at least. You and Cirian were on great terms and you considered him to be a very precious childhood friend you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with.

To say he was excited about your coming of age ceremony was an understatement. He had his own the year prior and was determined to be your first dance and you, being ignorant to the true difficulties of a simple waltz, wholeheartedly agreed. You wanted to make him happy but at this rate, you’d only give him several bruised toes and a terrible experience.

“My lady, you must sit up properly.”

Came the stern voice of your appointed personal maid and guard. You glanced up towards the left side of your chair where A2 stood, her face pulled into a small disapproving frown at your slumped form. Your lips formed a small pout, but you chose wisely to do as she said. You were a firsthand witness to her monster strength and you did not want to see what she would do if you refused.

Your maid was an odd person, one whose origins you were never fully informed of and was often shrouded in mystery. Your mother appointed her to you shortly after you were named heir to the duchy for ‘protection’ but the woman currently standing next to you looked as if she couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone wield a sword. She was tall and delicately lean, but under that maid’s dress, you weren’t sure if there was even an ounce of muscle to be seen. Not to mention her name. It was strange and sounded more like a pseudonym than anything else.

The only thing you had learned of her so far apart from her no-nonsense personality, was that she and two others like her were ‘gifts’ from the royal family. Your father would only relent that much to you and the other two that supposedly came along to your residence with her were nowhere to be seen.

“They are doing their work, my dear.” Your father said from his seat at his desk. His eyes never once lifted from the stack of papers in his hand to address you, yet you could still feel the warmth in his tone. This was how he displayed his affection and patience for you. Never once raising his voice in your presence or running you off when you so obviously intruded on his work. And then, under his breath, “Out of sight, out of mind.”

You never did understand what he meant by that and you were pretty sure you were never meant to hear it. Yet whatever the other two did, it was much more secretive than what A2 did for you. All you could do for now was hope that your father would explain more once you’re declared head of the family.

“A2, can’t you see I’m in a crisis right now?” You huffed, twisting yourself in your seat towards her and sitting in an even more improper fashion than you were moments before. Your new positioning seemed to noticeably peeve A2 who furrowed her brow. “If I can’t get this dance down, mother will kill me. . . and Ciri,” Your avert your gaze, your eyes softening as your mouth quivers into a frown. “oh I can’t even imagine what he’d do.”

“Cry, probably.” A2 remarks and you throw a light glare in her direction yet she shrugs it off with an indifferent bow of her head as if she were apologizing, but you knew she wasn’t. “I tell only the truth, my lady.”

As much as you wished to defend your fiance’s honor, you were well aware of his meek nature. A2 was right. He was more likely to cry if you ended up making your first public dance together a complete disaster. You only had one shot at this and if you failed, not only would you break the promise you had with Cirian but those nasty nobles who’d been attempting to gather as much dirt on you as possible would jump on this opportunity. They would use any flaw you had to their advantage, anything to keep you from getting the grand duchess title.

“There must be something I can do. . .” You nibbled at the nail of your thumb, a habit you accidentally picked up and one both A2 and your mother hated. While you were a normally composed person, the thought of your nearing coming-of-age ceremony and your lack of knowing a relatively simple dance seemed to have driven your nerves up the wall. “If I can’t dance, I should just avoid doing it shouldn’t I?”

Your gaze, which had fallen to the ground in thought, rose only to meet A2’s for approval. You wouldn’t say you and her were close, but the fact that she spent the most time with you out of all your servants, made her feel something akin to a friend. But with her, there was always a line in the sand she purposely drew. She never once made the effort to get closer to you and often discreetly blocked your advances from getting to know her. You respected her decision and despite her reluctance to open up, you still very much liked her.

She was pragmatic in nature and voiced her opinion often enough that you thought of her as honest. Her indifference towards you and the rest of the world was somewhat refreshing. Unlike other servants, she didn’t try currying favor with you and if there was a noble that bothered you for a little too long, she always made sure to tell them off in your stead. She didn’t care much for social standing and if she wasn’t the personal maid to the second most powerful family in the Leiden kingdom, you were sure she would have been hanged for how impartial she truly was with people. Her mouth would one day get her into trouble, you were sure of it.

When she gently smacked your hand away from your mouth, you could see the glint of resignation in her silver eyes. “Do you really want to learn that useless dance?”

“Hey,” You started, your hand settling back into your lap as you watched her move to stand right in front of you. “I won’t deny that dancing is useless. . . in fact, I couldn’t agree more.” You nodded to yourself with certainty and a satisfied smile. If only your mother and Cirian thought that way. You could be saved a hell of a lot of trouble.

“But this is what’s expected of me.” Your smile dropped at the thought of your father and all he had to sacrifice to get where he stood. “I really shouldn’t neglect this just because I hate it.”

“For a girl your age, you think too deeply.” You glanced up at her surprisingly soft tone. She presents her pale hand for you to take and you do so without much thought. Throughout the few years she’s been by your side, you definitely trusted her a little more than anyone else. “Being terrible at one thing won’t kill you, nor would it make your father think any less of you. No one expects you to be perfect, [name].”

She pulls you off towards the large open clearing of your room and it’s only when she has her hand on your waist that you realize what she’s doing. “While I can’t help you with much of anything in regards to your studies, this is something I can assist you in.”

Before you’re given the chance to process her earlier words or even the fact that she was helping you with dancing, she spins the two of you around; gliding effortlessly across the floor. With your hand caressed gently within her own. You stare at her with widened eyes. Everything about her in this moment had taken you by surprise, but you didn’t find yourself hating it.

A2 could be a kind person if given the chance and while most people had never minded how hard you exerted yourself to even resemble a bit of your father, she was the first person to ever realize the high expectations you set up for yourself. Your mother called your ambition and strive to be the makings of a true leader, but you sometimes found them to be nothing but burdensome. More than anything, you just wanted someone to tell you it was okay to mess up. Even just a little. Her sentiment warmed your heart in ways you could never truly convey into words.

So, with a cheerful grin, you swayed along with her. Though, your eyes stayed trained on your feet if only to avoid ruining the nice moment.

Dancing in silence may have seemed odd to an onlooker, but you swore you could hear the melodic beat in your head. You hummed along to the non-existent song, momentarily glancing up from your feet to meet A2’s curious stare with a grin. At first, you had trouble keeping up with her graceful steps, and more often than naught, you stepped on her toes. Each time, you apologized with reddened cheeks, yet she shrugged them off with a light smile and a shake of her head.

She was a much more diligent teacher than you initially expected. For every mistake, she told you exactly what you had done wrong and where you needed to improve. Yet, she was also so very patient. She went over countless parts of the dance, repeating the moves you had trouble on and never once expressing anger when you didn’t seem to get it.

This repeated for hours on end and well into the night before you finally called it quits. While you were exhausted with your chest heaving and small beads of sweat rolling down the side of your face, A2 looked as if she were not tired at all. You shambled over towards your bed, plopping down before looking to A2 who seemed to have read your mind and was fetching you a towel.

“Thank you,” You said with a sigh as you took the towel from her before patting the softened cloth against your cheek.

There was a few moments of silence between you that you used to compose yourself. Your heart settled into its normal steady rhythm and your exhaustion mellowed into fatigue. A2 stood in front of you, hands folded neatly at her waist and eyes lowered to give you some privacy.

“You’re very good at dancing.” You finally say as you drop the towel to your side. “When did you learn?”

“When you did,” A2 says as she lifts her eyes to meet your own. Within her silvery gaze, you can see obvious amusement. “I learned from watching you.”

A2 was always such a perfect maid. Doing everything to a tee and perfect in all aspects. You were unsurprised to hear she was a quick learner as well as a talented dancer. It was a shame her talents were held back by her class. If she were of noble lineage, you had no doubts that she would have given even the crown prince a run for his money.

Yet, there was something about her that was strayed from her normal indifference. You noticed it the most when the two of you were dancing. Her face looked so serene. With a ghost of a smile on her lips and eyes fluttered shut as she twirled you along to your hummed song. She was undeniably beautiful then and even someone so oblivious as yourself could see that.

You hummed at her reply, leaning back on your hands as you stared at her with a wide grin. "You like dancing, don't you?"

"It's. . . Okay." She says with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing special, really. I don't know why you nobles make such a big deal out of it."

"So then you wouldn't mind helping me out again, would you?" You offer your hand out for her to take and she does before pulling you off your bed. "You're a fine teacher. Better than those 'professionals' mother hired."

When you're up on your feet again, A2 attempts to let you go but you only tighten your grip on her hand. She looks at you, her brows high with a curious expression on her normally stoic features.

"Let's go another round, A2." You grin as you pull her towards the middle of your room once more. "There's a lot more I need to work on if I want to be perfect."

The woman behind you merely smiles, her pale cheeks tinged red as she nods to no one in particular. "As you wish, my lady."

#requests #finished requests #nier a2 #a2 #a2 x reader #x reader #reader insert fanfiction #nier automata #au

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 35

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 3.7k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Just a soft, fluffy chapter for you all after the angst and smut of the last two haha. Please leave comments and reblog it for me so others can read! Send me asks and so forth, we’re getting close to the endgame here so...I really hope you can spur me on.

; Flower Masterpost

“Ahhhh, I’m so excited!” Hoseok is practically vibrating in the passenger seat as you drive carefully, eyes firmly on the road and watching the car ahead of you. There’s nothing ahead of them but they’re still doing about ten miles less than the speed limit, frustrating you.

You don’t complain though, instead just sigh deeply while rolling your eyes at the slow person. It was hard to truly feel too annoyed though because Hoseok’s enthusiasm was so infectious. Which was why you’d been sporting a smile for most of the morning, thoroughly bemused by his excitement.

The reason for his bubbly demeanour today was because you were officially going to pick up your new puppy. You’d known for a long time that Hoseok wanted a dog; he’d loved them a lot and had always wanted one. But he just hadn’t had the time or space to get one, particularly given his old apartment not being pet friendly.

It had taken some convincing for you to say yes to a dog, mainly because you’d worried how Kasumi might be around another pet and also because you weren’t a huge dog fan. You liked them obviously, but they required so much more work than a cat. As much as Hoseok loved Kasumi though, you knew what he wanted.

The convincing had mainly been that he wouldn’t leave all the taking care of the dog to you. You didn’t want to end up being the only one cleaning up the mess in the yard or walking them, etc. He’d promised that he would care for the dog just as much as you did, maybe even a little more.

It wasn’t like he didn’t help out in the house anyway, he did because you wouldn’t let him not help, but you just didn’t want to get stuck doing all the dog duties when he was the one who wanted it the most. You doubted he would do that as he was pretty good with looking after Kasumi, even though she wasn’t even his. Given this was something he wanted, you had faith that he’d be a good doggy daddy.

The two of you had poured over websites that advertise puppies for sale alongside looking over rescue centres to try and find the best dog for you both. It had been hard to narrow down your requirements as there were some breeds that you just didn’t want to have and Hoseok had his own opinion on some as well. Other important things were that they needed to be okay with cats and being left alone during the day while you were both working.

But you also wanted something energetic when necessary and enjoyed walks. Part of the reason that you’d said yes was that you hoped it would get both of you to start going out on walks to just enjoy nature a little more instead of staying cooped up in the house. You always enjoyed when you’d gone out but it was hard to break your habits.

Your problems had been resolved happily when you’d been told by Hoseok’s parents that his aunt had a dog who had had a litter of puppies recently. They’d bought a female puppy and before they’d been able to get her spayed, she’d, unfortunately, got the attention of the neighbour’s dog. Which meant she’d been way too young to breed and they’d ended up with surprise puppies.

The mom was a working Cocker Spaniel breed with the prettiest colouring; a soft lemon tan and white with the most adorable eyes. The dad was a Bichon, a breed you weren’t too familiar with but who looked pretty cute too. What resulted was called a Cock-a-Chon, the most adorable bundle of fluff you’d ever seen.

Each puppy had the cutest curly fur and was the perfect mix of both their parent’s beautiful faces. They wouldn’t be too large when grown which was good for you both, as neither of you wanted a really big dog or anything. The puppy you’d both chosen was a creamy golden colour and you’d both fallen in love with her as soon as she’d fallen over her feet when running over to you.

Well...you say that you’d chosen her. It was more like she’d chosen Hoseok because he’d immediately ended up with a tiny puppy crawling all over his legs while her tail wagged at such speed you were worried she might hurt it. Needless to say, Hoseok had been completely lost to those sweet black eyes.

It had taken one look at you with equally big and cute eyes that had been earnestly begging to get your agreement. And that had been it. You’d officially known you were going to be collecting her a few weeks after that point and you’d let Hoseok name her, choosing Ciri from the Witcher series.

The time spent in-between that visit and going to bring her home had been spent making sure that the house was puppy-proof. You hadn’t known how to do that but the two of you had done a lot of research, hoping that if she was kept entertained enough then you wouldn’t have to worry about chewing or anything.

Given that Hoseok had been the one to want a dog in the first place, you’d let him run wild with all the stuff he wanted to get for her. There wasn’t any room for argument considering the number of things you’d bought Kasumi over the years and it had been heart-warming to watch Hoseok get so excited over a patterned collar and a personalised name tag on it.

So she had a ridiculous amount of dog toys already, alongside what you were convinced was a mountain of puppy food and treats, those mats to help house train her, two dog beds, a collar, a cage and lots of blankets to go inside it to train her for when neither of you was home. You hadn’t particularly liked the idea of caging her but you’d resolved to make it her safe space where she could go when she was feeling tired or just didn’t want to be bothered instead of punishment or anything.

Honestly, you’d warned Hoseok many times to make sure he didn’t go too overboard and spoil a dog neither of you even had yet.

Quite clearly, it hadn’t worked given how much he’d bought the little puppy. But again, you were loath to put a leash on his enthusiasm for it all. Pun not intended.

He never asked for a whole lot from you, even now with your three-year-anniversary approaching in just a few months. It always felt like you were taking a lot from him and not giving much back, so if he wanted to go wild and buy a lot of stuff for the new puppy then you weren’t going to complain too much.

There was a lot worse to spend his money on. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t even paying for Ciri. His aunt didn’t want to be paid for the puppy given she was going to a family member and she hadn’t even been expecting them at all. From what you knew, the other puppies had been sold for only a hundred dollars each. Just to cover their medical expenses up to that point.

It was a fantastic deal really, but you were mostly just pleased that Hoseok was finally going to get the dog he’d always wanted. He spoiled you often enough so you were revelling in the fact that you got to spoil him in turn.

That thought made you snort with laughter, the very idea of you two fighting not because you were angry but because you were trying to one-up each other with affection and love. You don’t get to see the curious look Hoseok gives you, slight confusion on his face before he shrugs to himself.

“I hope Kasumi will be okay with this.” Whispering the words, you frown slightly as you watch the road ahead. There’s only maybe another five minutes before you’ll both be there, reading to pick up Ciri and take her home but you’re a little worried about your other pet.

Ciri would probably be fine with her, being so young that she’d grow up with the cat as her big sister. But Kasumi had spent a long time with it being just her getting all the attention from you, and Hoseok when he’d entered her life. Not to mention the fact that she could hurt Ciri if they didn’t get on, those sharp claws easily causing harm to the tiny puppy.

“We’ll take it slow. The good thing about cats is that they can take themselves away if they’re not happy. She’s used to Ciri’s scent and we’ve got plenty of treats and toys for her too so she doesn’t feel so left out. We just have to make sure that we don’t let Ciri overwhelm her. She’ll be okay Meeps.” Hoseok reaches out and takes your hand, rubbing at your knuckles in reassurance.

His aunt had sent over some blankets and toys that she’d rubbed all over Ciri, soaking them in the puppy’s scent so that you could introduce it to Kasumi. Hopefully, it would mean that while your beloved cat probably wouldn’t appreciate the exuberance of her new sister but she would at least recognise the smell.

“Is it silly that I’m worrying about stuff like that? I mean...your friends are getting married and having babies but I’m here just concerned that my cat might not like our puppy.” That makes Hoseok snort in amusement, slipping his hand beneath yours to link your fingers together before squeezing.

“Hey...that’s their choice. We’ve chosen to have furbabies instead, nothing wrong with that.” Wrinkling your nose, you indicate to turn right and drive slowly down the street his aunt lives on. It’s a nice area with large houses set back from the road, each one having an equally big drive leading to two-car garages. Tall trees, probably decades old at this point, line along the street with luscious green grass between each one and the dips allowing cars to park.

Much like the rest of Hoseok’s family, his aunt is pretty wealthy. She never had any kids though, living in her beautiful house with her wife and a menagerie of animals. Alongside the cocker spaniel that had gotten pregnant; she also had a chocolate labrador, a black cocker spaniel, a parakeet and three cats. It was your idea of a dream in terms of all the animals but the clean up must be terrible.

Pulling into her driveway, you take in the sight of her house once more in awe. You doubt anyone in your family could ever afford something like this and it still leaves you with a sense of imposter syndrome when you realise just how rich Hoseok’s whole family is.

Thankfully though, he’d never made it an issue.

“Oh my god! Come on! Let’s go.” Hoseok practically squeals, his excitement making him look so young and completely at odds with his metalhead appearance. Snorting, you can’t help but smirk as you turn off the engine as he’s already out of the car. Sighing affectionately, you follow him at a much slower pace.

He’s already vanished into the house by the time you get to the door, his aunt, Miyeon, standing with the door held open and an exasperated look on her face. Smiling at her, you take your shoes off and hand her the bag that you’d prepared earlier with an apologetic look on your face.

“Hi, Auntie! How are you? Oh, I’m good thanks Hoseok, and you?” She says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at you. There’s more than a little fondness in her face and voice though so you’re not too worried that she’s genuinely annoyed at him, smiling a little brighter as you greet her.

“Sorry. He’s excited. It’s been like having a toddler in the car rather than an almost 31-year-old man. Thank you so much though, I know you didn’t want anything for her but I couldn’t just..give you nothing. Hoseok said that you collect wine and I don’t know anything about wine because I don’t drink but-” She interrupts you with a hand on your arm, a smile on her face.

“You didn’t have to. But thank you, I appreciate it. Don’t worry, wine is wine. I’ll enjoy drinking it no matter what, I guarantee you that. Anyway, come on. I’ve baked some cookies for you both. Hobi always used to adore eating them when he was younger; peanut butter, hazelnut and chocolate chips.” Leading you through her home, you can already hear the barking of puppies alongside Hoseok’s joyful laughter.

You don’t even realise you’re smiling until you see yourself in a mirror, your expression light and happy. Who’d have thought that just the sound of someone’s laugh could be such a fulfilling experience?

“Ahhh, so that’s why he likes them. He always asks me to bake those if I’m in that kind of mood. Always thought it was a bit odd as he doesn’t eat anything else with peanut butter, just those. Seemed a strange combination for him to love.” Her kitchen is just as big as the rest of the house, tastefully decorated with all the latest appliances.

You were a little envious of her fridge. It was one of those super fancy Samsung ones where you could see inside without even opening the door thanks to a panel on the front alongside what you could only describe as a tablet embedded into the door. Who needed to watch Netflix on their fridge?

But all you can truly focus on is the delicious scent of freshly baked cookies. Inhaling deeply, you hum and can’t help but wiggle in delight. His aunt laughs, handing one to you and you eat it quickly. They’re not your favourite flavour but you’d never turn down a homemade cookie.

Especially when it was still warm and slightly gooey.

“Go on, go take one to Hoseok. If he’s not gone into a puppy coma or something. Bora is working late tonight so she won’t be home,” She mentions her wife, letting you know that you won’t be seeing her today. “And I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Are you sure? Do you need any help?” Shaking her head, Miyeon smiles softly at you before suddenly cupping your cheek. Her hands are soft, likely through years of a careful skincare regime, and warm but there’s nothing strange about it. More like she’s just observing you.

“He’s lucked out with you, does he know that?” Snorting, you grin as you move away towards the sound of happy chaos. Looking back at her, you hold the cookie up with pride.

“I try to make sure he realises that at least once a day. Keep him on his toes, you know?” Her laughter follows you out of the kitchen and you marvel at yourself for how bold you’d just been. Your past self would be shocked to see you now, probably confused as to how you feel confident enough to say something so bold.

“Hey, butthead. You didn’t say hello to your aunt. That was rude,” You say to Hoseok, your tone only slightly playful. “Go say hi. Look, she even made you cookies.”

Handing one to him, you note how he’s laid on the floor and is surrounded by all the puppies in the litter. Ciri was going to be the first one to go so her four brothers and sisters were all still here. Small tails were wagging furiously at your arrival and you couldn’t help but giggle as they ran over to you, jumping and standing on Hoseok’s exposed stomach from where his shirt had twisted up and causing him to groan.

“Hello, puppies! Oh, aren’t you so cute!” Cooing to them, you hand the cookie to Hoseok as he sits up with a slight wince. For a minute or so, he just eats and watches you with the little ones as you play with them all, unable to stop smiling as they practically throw their small, furry bodies against you in an attempt for your attention.

“Go say hi!” Hissing slightly, your eyes narrow at Hoseok until he holds his hands up and gets up, heading out of the room to go properly greet his aunt. Once he’s gone, you look at all the puppies with a gleeful expression and sit cross-legged.

“Good, he’s gone. Let’s play!” The last word is loud and sharp while you reach forward, tickling one of them until they fall onto their back, showing their tummy for scratches and yelping enthusiastically. His siblings are barking too, tails hitting you almost painfully from how hard they’re going.

Glancing over at their mom, who’s currently laid in her dog bed with tired eyes, you smile affectionately before crawling over to her and giving her a loving stroke too. She seems to almost let out a deep sigh and you can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through her soft fur.

“Is it tiring, mama? All these babies wanting your attention all the time. I bet you can’t wait for some alone time. You’ve done well though, look how cute they are!” It must be a law somewhere that everyone should take to animals as if they’re human, especially in that voice that’s reserved for cute things.

But her big eyes are full of warmth and her tail wags lazily against the bed at your words, causing a few pups to try and attack it. You can’t help but marvel at how she just doesn’t seem to notice them, letting them do what they want.

“Not long now, they’ll all be going to their new homes soon. I bet you’ll miss them. We’ll bring Ciri by sometimes so you can see her!” The other dogs in the house had been socialised with the puppies for the last few weeks and Choco, the labrador was currently laid out against the couch. He was watching you carefully but for the most part, didn’t seem to be too bothered by all the noise.

You presumed that Bella, the other spaniel, was with Miyeon in her office.

“Okay, I said hello. And apologised,” Hoseok said, sitting down next to you and immediately welcoming two puppies onto his lap. “Sorry, I was rude, you’re right. They’re even cuter than last time.”

Grabbing one of the toys they had, he played with one of them enthusiastically until the puppy seemed to exhaust itself. There was a brief moment where it tried hard to keep up but then the next thing you knew, it was fast asleep on the floor. Laughing, you pointed at it before grinning at Hoseok.

“Oh my god, it’s you when you’re drunk.”

That gets a playful scowl but he just shrugs, reaching over to rub Choco’s ears to make sure he didn’t feel left out by it all. The labrador’s long tail beats against the floor tiredly, almost like he can’t be bothered to do it and you smirk at the sight. No doubt all the animals in the house are feeling a little tired and overwhelmed with all the excitement that’s been happening.

Finally, though, the puppies all seem to lose their energy and start to fall asleep wherever they are. Soon enough, you’re surrounded by bundles of fluff that are all twitching in their sleep, the silence pleasant after all their noise.

Hoseok carefully, and slowly, lifts Ciri into his lap. Her colouring was more cream than the rest of them, the others skewing more towards an almost golden tan. It had been part of the reason he’d named her Ciri. Her character in the show, video game and book series was infamous for her ash-blonde hair.

She doesn’t wake up, even as he takes off the coloured collar that had indicated whose puppy she was and replaces it with the one you’d both bought. The tag clunks loudly against the metal ring, causing you both to pause in fear that you’ve woken the others up but none of them stirs.

Finally, he shuffles back until he’s resting against the couch next to you, Ciri sleeping soundly in his arms and looks at you with a bright grin. The sheer amount of affection and happiness in that expression makes your heart physically ache, causing you to press a hand to it without realising.

“Ahh, we have a dog!” He whispers, eyes dancing as he tilts until he’s leaning heavily against you. His head rests on your shoulder and you smile, kissing his hair and just inhaling deeply. The smell of him always makes you feel content and relaxed, but even more so right now after all the chaos of the puppies for the last fifteen minutes.

“We do. Happy?” Nodding, he looks up at you before carefully reaching and cupping your cheek. His hands are rougher than his aunts, but you lean into the touch happily. There’s a brief pause before he kisses you, the movement soft and gentle with no real pressure. It’s more of an ‘I’m-happy’ kiss than anything else and you reciprocate it with ease.

The two of you stay in comfortable silence after that, just stroking and admiring Ciri for a while with no inclination to move just yet. You didn’t want to take her from her family so soon, even if you were her new family now. She should get to play with them all one last time before she goes.

“God, if you told college Hoseok that in a decade he’d been in a long-term relationship with a job, a house, a car, a dog and a cat...well let’s just say that laughing would have been the politest thing he could have done.”

“You know, I was thinking something like that earlier. I don’t think my old me would even recognise me now. But I think that’s for the better. I like who I am now, where I am now.” Stroking Ciri’s velvet-soft ears, you don’t see the fond smile on Hoseok’s face.

“I love you.” Smiling shyly, you take the chance to lean against him now and rest your head. Gently, you poke at his arm in your silent language, letting him know that you reciprocate before sighing contentedly.

For once, you finally felt completely at ease.

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clevermonkey93 · 3 years

Text

Mr Frilly part 2

Part 1

Jaskier makes pizza with Geralt and Ciri. It’s cute and fluffy. Oh and they flirt.

also on ao3

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Jaskier wasn’t nervous. He absolutely wasn’t nervous. Except he was. He totally was because he had a dinner date – was it even a date? It’s just dinner, come on Jask – with a gorgeous hunk of a complete dork of a dad that was utterly besotted with his angelic little gremlin. And Jaskier had just met him. Just met Geralt and Ciri and already he was determined not to blow it. Frankly, Jaskier didn’t care if Geralt wasn’t interested – he's probably ten years older than me, he’s got a kid, he might be straight-straight not just kinda straight – but he so desperately wanted to spend more time with them both and get to know them.

God knows he could use some more friends. Valdo seemed to have left their relationship with all their mutual friends, but I suppose that’s what happens when you date a guy from university for four years and just make friends with all his music friends and –

Jaskier wanted so badly to get this right.

Which is why he stood outside the Rivia house – a beautiful old tall town house which Jaskier would have bet has one of those gorgeous long winding gardens – with a distinctly not-rubbish film and some flowers. A simple but beautiful bunch of wildflowers that Jaskier had stared at for at least fifteen minutes at the shop after he’d left Geralt and Ciri in confectionary. He’d decided to risk it but they’re white and delicate so if he's read the vibe completely wrong they’re obviously for Ciri.

He knocked. Geralt said not to ring the doorbell because next door has a baby.

Oh God I should have changed. Why am I still wearing my shopping clothes and this dumb scarf –

“Hey, Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked up to see Geralt at the doorway, long white hair tied up now and an apron at his waist – oh man why is that sexy?

He had a flour smudge on his cheek and his shirt was covered in flecks. Jaskier was about to tease him and ask why he’s only got a tiny apron when he's wearing a black shirt when he heard footsteps behind the man.

“Mr Frilly!” Ciri cheered as she joined them in the doorway. She was wearing a full-size apron which on a child should look utterly ridiculous but she was also wearing an expression that said she was in charge.

“Already started on dinner I see!” Jaskier said with a grin.

Geralt looked down at his shirt and gave a very sweet shrug before standing to the side and gesturing for Jaskier to join them inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he offered. Ciri had already bounded back down the hallway so Jaskier shuffled in and started to wiggle his shoes off with his feet. This inadvertently drew attention to the flowers in his hand.

“Uh, I brought these,” Jaskier started, studying Geralt’s face carefully. Beneath the white smudge of flour there was a distinct pink blush. He didn’t think Geralt looked uncomfortable but oh God it’s so hard to tell. “I brought these.” He repeated quietly.

Jaskier inched the flowers forward to Geralt and thank God he took them. Geralt smiled. No doubt there, that was a proper nice smile.

“Thank you, Jaskier,” he said softly. Jaskier felt Geralt's hand on his shoulder and he was about to say something when –

“Daddy, the dough has gotten SO big!”

Jaskier and Geralt shared a little laugh before Geralt lead him further into the house.

The kitchen was in surprising order considering the state of the chefs, and Jaskier and Geralt walked in to find Ciri proudly holding up a bowl of proofing dough.

“I’ll show you how to make a base,” Ciri said excitedly.

“Wash your hands, Ciri,” Geralt reminded her and Jaskier also took his turn at the sink. As he dried his hands, we watched Geralt dig around a cupboard for a vase, as though he hadn’t used one in a long time, before carefully arranging the flowers to sit in the middle of the kitchen table.

It was a wonderfully sweet evening. Jaskier and Ciri both managed to get covered in flour as they tried to shape pizza crusts while Geralt seemed to be able to do it blind and helping them at the same time.

Jaskier had figured they’d be using tomato puree (he won’t admit to how many years at university he’d lived on pasta and tomato puree) but Geralt brought over a pan of homemade tomato sauce that smelled so good. Even better was the proud little smile he made when Jaskier told him how good it smelled. Best yet was the blush and sudden inhale Geralt didn’t manage to hide when Jaskier couldn’t resist sticking a finger in to try a lick.

“Toppings!” Ciri exclaimed as she carried what Jaskier assumed was a stack of everything from the fridge. Cheese quickly went absolutely everywhere as they each assembled a pizza and it turned out the pair had a tradition of making an extra Frankenstein pizza with every topping.

They loaded them into the oven – “Daddy's going to build a pizza oven in the garden next spring,” Ciri excitedly informed Jaskier. “But they’re still good in the oven.”

Geralt started to clear up while the pizzas cooked, and Ciri immediately vanished. Jaskier stood next to him at the sink to dry things up.

“Thank you for asking me over,” Jaskier said, even though it was clearly Ciri that asked. “I'm really glad I’m here.”

Geralt Hmmed at that, and Jaskier had started to notice it might be his default setting but it sounded like a happy Hmm at least. “What would your Saturday night have been otherwise?” Geralt asked.

“Oh, um,” Jaskier hesitated and dammit he knew he was blushing but he’s going to think I'm so naive and just struggling and – “Well, I’m usually performing at some venue or another, if I’ve managed to get any bookings.” He looked over at Geralt and he seemed interested, not like he suddenly regretted inviting a hipster over, so, “I sing and, uh, play guitar. Among other things.”

Geralt nodded, and definitely didn’t look at Jaskier's mouth when he bit his lip nervously, except Jaskier definitely saw his eyes dart down.

Jaskier shrugged. “But nobody knows me around here. Not yet anyway,” Jaskier laughed quietly. “I’m on at the open mic night this week at Posada's –”

“The live night at The Mandrake is pretty good,” Geralt cut in. Jaskier couldn’t have contained his smile even if he’d tried. Honestly, so many people laughed at him for still trying and –

Breathe, Jask.

“Yeah? What kind of music do they usually have? I mean, well, a lot of my covers usually go down really well, but I also play a lot of my own songs,” Jaskier asked as he dried up the last bowl. Damn it, he was starting to ramble. But he looked over again at Geralt and the man was nodding, and Jaskier thought he might have Hmmed again. Silently though. Jaskier got a little distracted again watching Geralt dry his hands on Jaskier's dish towel and then start to put things away.

“Hmm? What sort of things do you write?” Geralt finally asked, and he definitely stood closer than he needed to as he reached around Jaskier to pick crockery up from the counter.

Jaskier was absolutely not about to reply something like meeting hot dads at the supermarket when the oven timer beeped loudly.

“Pizza!!”

Jaskier jumped a little at Ciri's sudden – immediate – reappearance and although he had no real reason to blush, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Geralt laughed ever so quietly. Jaskier eyed him carefully as the man's mouth turned up in the slightest smirk. Oh, Geralt was teasing him.

Jaskier flicked the dish towel at Geralt before joining Ciri at the oven, taking the mitts from her before she could try to hurt herself carrying too many hot pizzas. They took the pizzas to the lounge and before Jaskier could worry about where he should sit, Ciri sat him in the middle of the sofa because that’s where guests sit, Mr. Frilly.

“What film are we watching?” Ciri asked, sat on the floor in front of the telly to get to the DVD player.

“Oh!” Jaskier popped up again and went to his bag. “Have you guys seen The Princess Bride?”

Ciri had not and Gert agreed it was a not-rubbish film. Not that Jaskier would have judged him too harshly if he didn’t liked his favourite film.

He sat between Geralt and Ciri as they ate pizza, and Jaskier definitely agreed it was at least the best pizza in town and quite frankly until he tried ‘Papa Vesemir's’ pizza, he was willing to say best ever. They watched the film, Geralt and Jaskier both half watching Ciri watch it for the first time. When Geralt took his hair out from its bun, Jaskier couldn’t help but reach over to tuck a stray lock behind his ear before Geralt tied half of it back anyway.

Away from the warm kitchen, it cooled down quickly in the lounge so Geralt pulled the throw blanket over them from the back of the sofa. He laughed softly when Jaskier stole the opportunity to tuck in closer as his arms were raised, and then laughed properly when Ciri used Jaskier's distraction to steal his frilly scarf.

Jaskier must have dozed off towards the end of the film because he woke up to Geralt carefully easing him up from leaning against his chest as the credits rolled. “Just putting Ciri to bed.”

Ah, yes, parenting to be done. Jaskier blinked himself awake somewhat while Geralt followed Ciri upstairs. As he listened to muffled arguments about whether she'd brushed her teeth for long enough and how many stories she needed before sleep, Jaskier took their cleared plates back to the kitchen.

He was putting the last of the clean dishes away when Geralt reappeared.

“The princess sleeps?” Jaskier asked softly. Geralt Hmmed at him, leaning against the door frame in a way that looked far too good for him to not be aware.

“Are you awake now?” Geralt teased, and Jaskier admirably resisted sticking his tongue out. Really though, he only resisted because he finally closed the distance between them and leaned up, hopeful, towards Geralt. He was pretty sure, but Oh god what if he really had misread things –

Geralt kissed him. He kissed him softly, steadily and with a firm hand holding Jaskier's hip to his waist.

Jaskier sighed, only loud enough for Geralt to just hear. “Yeah, I'm awake.”

#I wrote a thing #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #witcher fanfic #geraskier modern au #single dad geralt #jaskier has the hots for single dad geralt #geraskier being cute #geraskier snuggles #ciri is the sweetest angel gremlin #all fluff no plot

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devendrasbeard · 3 years

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The Goat Is Part Of The Family

Prompt: Meet The Family Relationships: Ciri/Cahir Rating: T Content warnings: Just a slice of life, oh and Lambert being Lambert Summary: Ciri and Cahir are newly engaged, so it's time for the guy to meet her family. He quickly learns Ciri's family is unlike any other. And there's also a goat.

Also on ao3!

My final prompt! I DID IT FOLKS!

"Hey mom," Ciri put her phone on speaker as they drove through the interstate.

"Hey daughter, grandpa wants to know how far away you are - he and Eskel are too eager to start grilling but they don't want the food to grow cold before you arrive."

Ciri shot Cahir a questioning look and he quickly checked his watch. "Thirty minutes," he whispered.

"Yeah, we should arrive within half an hour," Ciri smiled at her phone, even though Yennefer couldn't see her. She listened for a moment to the background noises coming through the speaker. "Is there... Did you really invite the whole family over?" she huffed.

"You know that if it were for me, I wouldn't even invite your father," Ciri could exactly imagine that evil grin and raised eyebrow on her mom's face and she was damn sure she's heard Geralt's groan in the background. "Your family has invited themselves over, as soon as they've heard the big news. You better prepare your lover for the goat." With that she hung up.

Cahir gave Ciri a suspicious and only slightly scared look. "Is 'the goat' like your family's code for something?"

"No, unfortunately," Ciri laughed. "It's a literal goat. My uncle owns it."

"I'm both intrigued and scared," Cahir admitted. "I thought I was only going to meet your parents first... As in mom and dad."

"Yeah, I thought so too," Ciri looked out the window. "But alas! You're gonna meet everyone," she slapped her knees, her palms tightening around her thighs for just a second.

"Then walk me through it, is there anything I need to know about anybody before we arrive?"

Ciri looked out the window, worrying her lip between her teeth. A smirk was dancing at the corner of her lips and Cahir noticed that little spark in her eye that always showed up when she was deeply amused but didn't want to admit it. She turned to him after a while and exhaled.

"The only thing you really need to know is that my mom hates hugs and kisses, so don't try that with her. My uncles on the other hand are extremely huggable people, so expect to become a part of a hugging pile as soon as they feel comfortable around you."

Cahir hummed. "I think I can work with this," he smiled.

"Oh, and of course don't put any valuables on the floor or the goat will eat it," Ciri said with an absolutely serious expression. "Last time I was home and Eskel brought her over, she ate my brand new pair of Converse, and I've only put the box on the stairs for a moment to hug Dad!"

Cahir couldn't help but laugh, which earned him a smack on the shoulder. "Okay, It seems that we're here!"

They parked the car and got out, Ciri leading the way to the house. A white haired man, clearly Ciri's dad, leaned out of the kitchen window and waved at them with a slight smile on his lips. "Get in the backyard, everyone's waiting for you there!" he shouted at them.

"Ready?" Ciri asked, grabbing Cahir's hand reassuringly.

"I guess I never will be, so let's just do it."

Ciri opened the little gate to the backyard and they stepped into the garden.

"I swear to god, I'm gonna kill that fucking goat!" A red-haired man, equally red in the face was screaming at a taller, bulkier man.

"That goat is part of the family, so watch your tongue, you bastard!"

"I'm gonna kill it and I'm gonna cook it! Next week we're gonna eat goat shish-kebabs!"

"Don't you fucking dare!"

Ciri and Cahir stopped in their way and stood dumbfounded in the middle of the garden, watching the two men, Ciri's uncles, fight. The goat's bleating was heard above the men's raised voices. Cahir squeezed Ciri's hand just a little bit tighter.

A man materialised suddenly at Cahir's side, moving smoothly and quietly like a cat, and patted his shoulder. "Welcome to the family, boy. I hope you don't mind people being loud."

Ciri rolled her eyes and turned to the man, hugging him. Cahir watched him discreetly, noticing his tall muscular physique and the long dark hair and beard, and the tattoos.

"I was hoping that Mom and Dad would be the first ones to introduce themselves to you, but as you have probably noticed, my family is unlike any other," Ciri smiled and introduced the man to Cahir. "This is Aiden. He's married to my uncle - the shorter but definitely louder one."

Aiden shook Cahir's hand and raised a brow at Ciri. "Since I'm married to Lambert, your uncle, this makes me your uncle too, kiddo. Time to call me that too," he pointed finger guns at her and started walking backwards to the garden table. "C'mon kids, let's get you something to drink, you must be thirsty after the trip, and then we can introduce Cahir to the rest of the family."

As they took the first sips of their cider, a man, seemingly in his late twenties, came out of the house, carrying a big plate of various cakes. His jeans were ridiculously tight and he wore a flowery shirt that had already half of the buttons open.

"Ah kids, finally! I couldn't wait to meet you, Cahir!" the man stretched out his arms to hug both Ciri and Cahir and then he placed kisses on both their foreheads.

"That's uncle Jaskier - definitely the most affectionate one," Ciri winked at Cahir.

"Hey! I hear you call him 'uncle' and he's also only married to your dad's brother," Aiden shouted at them from the snacks table and frowned theatrically.

"Ugh, that's because uncle Jaskier has been around since I was a child," Ciri replied sheepishly. "And you're," she gestured towards Aiden. "Well, you're pretty fresh!"

"He's fresh meat!" The shorter of the quarrelling men shouted to their group, loudly. "As in his meat is-" he got cut off by the other man's big hand on his lips.

"Jaskier, can you please tell your idiot husband to stop fighting with my idiot husband while we're having guests over?" Aiden sighed.

"Excuse me, but in my marriage, I am the idiot husband," Jaskier flicked his hand. "And also, what is today's fight about?"

"Lambert wants to grill Lil' Bleater again," Aiden replied deadpan.

"Same shit different day," Jaskier sighed and turned to Cahir. "Okay, since you've already met the cutest members of the family, besides Ciri of course. Are we doing mom and dad, or dad's crazy brothers?"

Cahir looked even more dumbfounded than in the moment they'd arrived, so he gave Ciri a questioning look. Or maybe a desperate plea for help, since his pupils were unnaturally wide and his eyebrows were almost at his hairline.

Ciri grabbed his hand and moved her lips in a silent "I'm sorry" and then dragged him into the house.

They made their way straight into the kitchen, lured in by delicious smells and the sounds of quiet chatter. The first people Cahir noticed were the two completely different women, who were chopping vegetables for some salads. One of them had deep black hair and was wearing black skinny jeans and a simple white t-shirt, her only jewelry being a thin choker with a purple stone. The other woman had fiery red hair, freckled skin and was wearing a maxi dress with a flowery print and a lot of bracelets.

"Hi everyone!" Ciri shouted, pulling Cahir to her side.

The woman in black nodded at them with a delicate smile from her spot over the kitchen counter. The other one left her stuff immediately and approached them, pulling Cahir into another hug this afternoon. "Ciri has probably told you that her mom hates hugging, but luckily I'm quite the opposite," she laughed.

Ciri rubbed the back of her neck, sending her mom a faint smile and getting a nod of approval in return. "So, this is my mom, Yennefer, and her wife, Triss, and these two grumpy snowmen in the back, these are my Dad and Gramps."

"Hey, I might be old, but I can still hear ya," the older white-haired man pointed his fork at Ciri. "Hello, boy."

The younger of the men stepped closer to them, wiping his hands in a towel. "Hi, Cahir, I'm Geralt. Nice meeting you in person and not seeing you sneak out of Ciri's room while we Face Time," he laughed, stretching his hand out to shake Cahir's.

Ciri suppressed a groan. "For gods' sake, Dad, just once could you not embarrass me on the spot?"

"Not possible." Geralt replied with a grin and returned to his station at the kitchen counter. "Cahir, care to help me and Vesemir with the steaks?"

Cahir felt his cheeks turning redd and he smiled sheepishly at the men. "Guess it's not the right time to tell you I'm a vegetarian?" he said quietly.

"There's room for everyone in the family," he heard a low, rumbling voice coming from the back door. One of the men who were quarreling earlier entered the kitchen, taking up almost all the free space. He was tall, bulky and would've looked threatening if it wasn't for the soft eyes and the baby goat cradled in his arms. "I hope you like goat cheese, though, 'cause we have a lot of that," he laughed.

Ciri gave up on trying to pretend that any of her family members were normal, letting her arms drop to the sides. She motioned towards the man with a smile and he approached her and hugged her awkwardly while also trying not to drop the goat. "Yes, this is my uncle Eskel and his baby goat, Lil' Bleater. He, obviously, owns a goat farm and is married to Jaskier."

"Hi," Cahir waved at him, laughing at the way the goat stayed cradled in Eskel's arms like a baby, but also silently admiring the man's strength and posture. "I love the goat," he added.

"Great, you're already one of my favourite family members." Eskel smiled.

"Okay, get that dirty baby out of the kitchen," Yennefer let out an annoyed huff and ushered them all out into the backyard. "I don't want her eating up all the apple pie again."

"Yeah, bring her back here, you fucking coward!" the red-haired man shouted at Eskel, clicking theatrically with the grilling pliers. "Asshole ate up all my bacon and broke half a dozen of my beer bottles," he complained while approaching Ciri and Cahir. "And this bastard still keeps defending her, can you believe?"

Ciri threw her head back in laughter and turned to Cahir with a theatrical whisper, "Final family member to introduce - uncle Lambert. He taught me all the cuss words I know," she added with a grin.

"And did a fucking good job while at it," Lambert laughed, shaking Cahir's hand firmly. "Alright, let's start eating, before the fucking omnivore wreaks even more havoc. C'mon, kids!"

Later that evening, with their bellies full of delicious food and eyes still prickling from tears of mirth, Ciri and Cahir snuck out to her room upstairs. They sat on her bed - or rather Cahir did, while Ciri plopped on her back with a resigned huff.

"Okay, so this is my crazy family. You sure you still wanna marry me?" she asked with a cocky smile. She tried to play it cool, but a flicker of doubt was seen in her eyes.

Cahir cradled her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "Of course, stupid. What you have is so different from what I had, being just me and my mom for the most of our lives... So this is totally new but so exciting. I can see your family loves you and they all have each other's backs. Even the uncles that have different views on the goat issue."

Ciri laughed and sat up. "So we're doing this?"

"We're definitely doing this. But I will have to think of a way to keep the goat out of our house. Don't tell Eskel."

------

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

#final prompt!#witcher rarepair summer bingo #ciri x cahir #cirilla fiona elen riannon #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #ciri / cahir #the witcher fic #slice of life

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billyspotato · 4 years

Text

Welcome Back - Geralt of Rivia

Words: 2.160 words

Type: Angst & Fluff

Summary: After Geralt finds Cirilla, he goes to your house looking for a place to stay for a while, but you haven’t seen each other for over a year.

Warning: English is not my first language. Sorry if I misspelled something.

Yennefer, even though she’s not mentioned, and Geralt didn’t have any kind of relationship in this imagine’s universe!

Btw, Azana is a character I created when writing, she’s not actually a character in the books, show or games.

Part 1 Part 2

A/n: Gif’s not mine :)

You look over at your now clean kitchen and sigh in relief. Now you can finally go to the market. You change clothes quickly and put on your boots before grabbing your basket and stepping out of your small house.

Like any other day, the sky is colored grey and the wind is cold. You pull the hood of your cloak over your head, making your face is now covered from the sides and shielded from the cold.

As you stepped in the busy market, some locals looked at your cloaked self and looked elsewhere right away, scared to be caught. Everyone still has the idea of your ‘friend’, Geralt, fresh on their minds. Even though he left more than a year ago and you have never seen him again.

People are still intimated by Witchers, and that also applies to the people that surround them. And it looks like it always will.

While looking at the various loafs of bread displayed in front of you, your mind was occupied with something else, or someone else. Geralt, and his well-being.

Could he be hunting right now? Getting payed well, you hoped.

Could he be happy? That can be discussed.

Could have he found love?

That thought sent a sharp pain through your chest. You don’t even know if he’s alive, how can you even think about him being in love with someone else?

You looked up at the seller and gave him a small smile before extending your hand with the coins. The man took it welcoming your smile and you grabbed the loaf out of the wooden table and putting it into your basket.

You moved on to the vegetables displayed by other sellers and while taking a look good at everything, so you wouldn’t take a rotten one by accident home, you hear someone call out your name.

“Y/N, my sweetheart” Azana, an old sweet woman from the village and seller from the market, calls out while extending her arms and looking at you.

“Hi” You say welcoming the smile and the daily hug.

“How has your day been?” She asks with an adoring smile on her face.

“Pretty tiring, decided to clean the house today” You say with a sigh, “Not the best idea. How about you?”

“Oh, I’m alright. The fruit is selling like crazy today for some unknown reason”

You laughed at her confused look and she then lifts her eyebrows and opens her mouth as if she remembered something.

“I’ve heard the Witcher came back to the village today” She states, and you give a sad smile.

“Azana, Geralt’s not coming back”

“Don’t say those things, my sweet. You know he is, he wouldn’t just leave you” She says before walking back to her table, which is filled with customers, “Here take this, for you and just in case he’s back, for him as well” She offers while starting to put various fruits and vegetables in your basket.

Azana always had the hope that Geralt would come back. She said that she had never seen you happier like the way you were when he was doing business in town. Azana would even offer food to Geralt after his work would be done as a ‘thank you’ for him to come back to you alive.

She was your neighbor when you were younger, ended up taking care of you many times as well, so a certain friendship grew, and now she just wants to see you happy. And Geralt made you happy. So that made her love him for it and be forever thankful.

That was until Geralt had to leave town to continue his work. Unfortunately, he can’t just stop and live a good life with the woman that he loves in a small cozy home with 7 kids, he is a Witcher after all. You understood that and you let him go, after making him promise to come back once in a few months.

But, you haven’t seen him since.

Now, people in the small village would like to make, listen and spread rumors since nothing exciting happens in this place. The most exciting thing that has ever happened was the Witcher’s appearance. So, they would just spread rumors about his whereabouts, making you (the first 3 times) and Azana (even today) hopeful.

After thanking Azana for the food and getting another bear hug, you decided to walk back home. She kissed your cheek before you turned around and the smile plastered on your face warmed the woman’s heart, while looking at you like a proud mother.

As you walked out of the market and into the streets on your home, Geralt pulled Roach’s reins slightly, making her move slower, as they made their way in the village. Ciri’s eyes looked around what surrounded her, not alarmed by anything, just curious.

“What are we doing here?” Ciri whispers to Geralt, who is sitting behind her on the saddle.

“This is where we’re going to stay for some time” He explains while pulling the hood of Ciri’s cloak over her head, hiding her face from strangers.

Geralt pulls Roach’s reins once more, coming to a full stop, as they got into the barns of the village. He gets himself down the brown horse and helps Ciri next.

“Witcher, it’s been a while” A man states from behind him.

Geralt looks up at the man and nods, acknowledging his presence. The two men knew each other, you would sometimes visit the barn and take a look at the sleeping horses and somewhat sick/injured animals, in love with the idea of helping them. That’s when Geralt met the man, making him in some way trustworthy.

“I’ll take her” The man says once more, taking a hold of Roach’s reins.

Geralt’s amber eyes followed the man as he took Roach into the stables while in complete silence. Ciri looks up at the Witcher confused at how he handed his dear beloved horse to a stranger.

“Do you know him?” She asks and Geralt looks at her.

“Somewhat” He says before adjusting the swords on his back. “Let’s go get you something to eat”

They walked out of the barn, Ciri’s mind now occupied with what she will eat since they’re not in the middle of the hoods anymore (making the list of possible foods grow), as people shared looks and even whispered to each other, some in excitement and others in pure shock, with the sight of the white haired man.

The both of them stepped in the busy market and Ciri pulled Geralt by his leather sleeve to the table various vegetables were displayed right when her eyes laid on it. Geralt kept being, obviously, willingly dragged by the young girl while she gasped at the amount of food.

After buying bread from a very scared man, Geralt gives it to Ciri, who welcomed and started eating right away.

“Can we get apples as well?” Ciri asked as her eyes focused on the pile of red and green apples displayed in front of a lady.

Geralt nods before following the girl, who right away started the conversation with the lady behind the fruit. The lady, being Azana herself, smiled at the blonde beautiful girl before a tall man stood behind her, making her eyes go up to his face.

“Geralt?” Azana asks in shock as the amber eyes of the Witcher looked at her as well.

“Azana” Geralt says while biting off his small smile, which is begging to appear.

“Oh, my dear” She says before going to him and pulling the broad shouldered and strong man into a hug like she did to you seconds ago.

“Still a hugger?” Geralt comments making the woman laugh while pulling away.

“I will always be one” She says with a big smile, “Have you seen Y/N yet?”

“No, not yet” He says, “We will after Cirilla gets her food”

“Do you miss her?” Azana asks, wanting to know right away if his feelings are the same as the ones she told you, so you wouldn’t lose hope.

Geralt only nods while Ciri looks up curious at the conversation and with who you are.

“Do you still love her?”

The question made Ciri’s eyes widen and look up at Geralt in shock. The loner white haired man has someone, and he didn’t tell her?

Geralt, feeling Ciri’s gaze on him, doesn’t use words to answer Azana, he only gives her a small smile making the old woman almost cheer in happiness.

“And who are you?” Azana asks. Ciri looks up at the woman, giving her a small smile.

“His child of surprise” She simply answers.

Azana’s eyes widen at her words and she looks up at Geralt.

“Long story” Geralt simply says, probably slightly annoyed with how blunt Cirilla was. “I’ll tell you later”

“Alright, then” Azana says while Geralt grabs coins to give it as a payment for the apples Ciri picked. “No need, you’re apart of this family Witcher” She says, while walking back to behind her table, “And get going, don’t make her wait any longer”

Geralt nods at the old lady and Ciri looks between them entertained with the conversation. Both of them walk out of the market and Ciri starts her questions.

“Who’s Y/N?” She asks and Geralt doesn’t answer, “Your friend? No, it must be your lover”

Geralt slightly nodded, even questioning if Ciri even saw it. “How come you never talk about her?”

“I tried to forget about her”

“Why? If you love her, why forget her?”

“I didn’t keep my promise. I was supposed to come back in a space of months, but I was too far in the continent and too busy to come back”

“How long as it been?”

“A year and a half” He says almost is a whisper, sounding like he is disappointed in himself.

“Why are we walking so slow then?”

(…)

You turn the page on the book that you are reading almost drifting off to sleep until a knock on your front door is heard. You sigh frustrated, thinking of your neighbors that might need something (like always), but you look confused once you open the front door.

“Can I help you?” You ask the young blonde girl in front of you.

As Ciri looked up at you, Geralt appeared next to her. Your breathing came to a stop as your body went in complete shock. It’s not possible, right?

You let the girl in your house when taking a step back but your eyes don’t leave him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice cracking as you hold in your tears.

“I came back”

“Yeah, a year and 7 months later” You tell him as your heart started beating faster and faster.

Silence was the barrier that separated the two of you. Neither of you wanted to talk or knew what to say, making the air around you thicken up.

Your eyes welcomed his familiar face and so did his. Your heart just couldn’t really feel anger towards the person that you so deeply love, and your mind just reminded that ‘he came back for you’.

“I’m sorry. I really am” He states, not really knowing what to say. “A lot of things happened, -and I know that isn’t an excuse- But I came back here to tell you that I’m so sorry”

You sighed as your eyes filled with tears and you pulled him into your arms. The tears, being them of relief, start falling down your cheeks and a sob escapes your mouth. Geralt’s arms go around you and pull you up and closer to him, your familiar scent filling his lungs and your soft hair moving under his callused hand, relaxing him completely.

“I thought you were dead” You tell him as you pull away.

“And I thought you were going to kill me” Geralt jokes, trying to lift the air of tension that had been building up in these last minutes.

“I hate you” You say while smiling at his stupid attempt. Geralt wipes the tears off your wet face with his thumbs and pulls you in for a kiss. You lean in making your lips touch and your body exploded with emotions you haven’t felt in so long.

As you two keep evolving the kiss, Ciri has her half-eaten apple up to her mouth as if she was getting ready to take a bite but stopped mid-way; her face held a disgusted look and it slowly intensifies as you two kept going.

“Hello? I’m still here!” Ciri says, making you two pull away.

“Who is she again?” You ask Geralt but Ciri opens her mouth to answer for him.

“Shut it!” Geralt says while holding up his finger in Ciri’s direction, before looking at you once again, “I’ll tell you after lunch” He says as Ciri smiled and took a bite of her tasty red apple.

- - - -

This is probably awful but it’s not my fault! I swear! My family just kept talking super loud when I was proof-reading, and I couldn’t really do much!

Anyways, I never thought I was going to write for Geralt, but here we are. Hope you liked it.

Part 2? Maybe?

- - - - -

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey✨🌸

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #netflix #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia imagines #the witcher imagine #the witcher imagines #henry cavill imagine #cirilla of vengerberg

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belettewrites · 3 years

Text

Some mountains and a dog part 4

previous | next | masterpost | AO3

cw: animal death mentioned

It was just before midday; they had been on the road for three yours, Jaskier on Roach and Geralt leading him. He had started doing that more, after the mountain. To show Jaskier that he was cared for; that Geralt hadn’t meant it, but did mean what he had said about wanting to apologize. And it was nice to see Jaskier on Roach, next to his and Geralt’s bags, as if he belonged with him.

Geralt had no doubt about Jaskier belonging with anyone; the bard was a mage, after all, and his own person, and was as free as a bird. He felt blessed to have Jaskier by his side – that Jaskier had been by his side for twenty years, and had chosen to stay there even when things had become shitty. Well, shittier. He had stayed when Geralt ran to find Ciri, he had stayed when it turned out that Ciri had powers, he had stayed to wait for Yennefer when it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to help much.

He had stayed and was still there, by Geralt’s side, cheeks sun-kissed and hair ruffled by the wind, laughing a laugh that was only meant for Geralt.

“Geralt!,” Jaskier suddenly gasped, turning him away from his thoughts, “Look, a dog!”

He smiled. Jaskier did this every time they came across a dog. “Geralt! Look at its tiny paws!” he would say, and Geralt would hum; “Geralt! Look at how soft it looks!” he would cry out in delight, and Geralt would hum. “Jaskier, look over there, the dog,” Geralt had said once, and Jaskier had taken his hand and squeezed it briefly before letting it go, a smile brightening his face.

“Don't approach it,” Geralt warned, “it's a shepherd dog and its job is to protect the flock. Don't want it to think you're a threat.”

Though Jaskier, even smelling magic like he always had ever since he had revealed his true nature to Geralt, didn't seem like much of a threat. But Jaskier’s safety was not something Geralt wanted to play with, so he looked over at the dog to make sure he wasn’t being threatening.

The dog had seen them and was watching them distrustfully. Especially Geralt; he was used to it, cats always hissing at him, but dogs usually were nicer. Though this one had to protect something, and there was nothing more dangerous than a dog with instincts telling him to protect something.

Geralt had once seen a dog turning on his own owner because the man was yelling quite angrily at his child, who looked close to tears. The dog, a big dog with long black fur, had growled, stepping between them. The child, unaware of what was happening, had hugged it, but their father had turned pale and after glancing down, had gone away quickly. Seemingly satisfied, the dog had licked the child’s hands, and Geralt had turned away, not forgetting how far the dog was ready to go to protect what was under its care.

So he was more than relieved when a voice called out:

“Charcoal! What are you looking at, you doof- oh!”

Jaskier dismounted Roach and straightened up, ready to defend Geralt against any prejudices.

But there was no need; the woman, when she saw them, smiled and waved her hand to say hello, the dog staying close to her, almost making her trip over it. It was almost weird, seeing another person here, when it had only been him and Jaskier for the last few days; how easy it had been, to forget about the rest of the world.

Jaskier waved back, seemingly unbothered by the sight of another human here, and Geralt relaxed as the dog turned its attention away from them. It was a big dog. "Fluffy" Jaskier would say, fur white and gray and black, its head bigger than Geralt's hand. It looked young; still in training, then.

The woman walked closer to them. She wasn't tall, but wasn't small either; red hair falling on her shoulders, freckles on her cheeks and nose. She looked – pretty, the kind of person Jaskier would have spent the night with years ago. Though he had stopped doing that well before Ciri; after his performances he would always come back to Geralt, smiling softly at him and stealing his ale. It warmed Geralt more than he could say.

“Excuse him,” the woman said, still smiling, “he thinks anyone that isn't me or my wife is a threat, but he’s a sweetheart.”

“It's nothing,” Jaskier replied, “I had a dog a bit like him when I was younger. Great with children, though you should've seen how he reacted when someone that wasn't us walked by.”

The woman laughed.

“Well, let me say, it is nice to meet other souls up here. I'm Violet.” she added with a smile.

Then she hesitated, glancing at Jaskier then turning her attention back to Geralt, and to his swords.

“Say, I don't want to sound rude, but- what are you doing here? I mean, there's no one here but me and my wife, and the occasional traveler. We have a beast that steals the sheep, but apart from that, I don't think it's the kind of place you'd expect to find lots of contracts. Or a court to play in,” she added after glancing at Jaskier's lute case.

“Geralt needed some holidays,” Jaskier replied at the same time Geralt said “Jaskier wanted to see the mountains.”

“What?” Geralt blurted out, freezing.

Jaskier turned to him, a soft look in his eyes. Violet watched them without saying anything, an amused smile on her lips.

“Geralt, you spent the whole winter being a teacher to- Fiona, and before that you spent the whole year hunting monsters and saving humanity. You deserved a break. Though, frankly, I didn't expect you to agree so easily.”

Geralt hummed. Jaskier didn’t know that he would agree to anything he would ask, though he was sure the other man was already aware of that, to some extent. Jaskier laughed, gently took his arm, and faced the woman again.

“See? The things I have to do?”

“My wife’s the same. I swear, she wouldn’t rest if I wasn’t there to remind her,” she smiled before adding, “Lila – my wife – and I are taking care of a sort of refuge for travelers, like you; eat lunch with us, and we'll see if we can ready a room for you, so you won't have to worry about sleeping in the woods tonight.”

“It's fine,” Jaskier started, “we-”

“You shouldn't,” the woman insisted, “there's something lurking around at night – it has killed two sheep already, and our old dog too, it- it wasn't pretty to see. My wife had to put an end to his misery, it was – rough.”

The pain was evident in her eyes, reflecting the loss of a life companion. Geralt saw Jaskier put his hand on Roach’s muzzle.

“So when you said there was no contract here-” Geralt tried to ask.

“Ah, well. It's just that, I'm afraid we don't have much coin to offer you, sir witcher. A beast, but no contracts,” she shrugged, though he could see she was tired.

Jaskier took his hand and squeezed it; Geralt tried very hard not to feel too warm at that, and hummed. His bard smiled knowingly.

“I'll take care of the beast,” Geralt said, “in exchange for lunch, and ale for my bard, if you have some.”

Violet smiled at them, a bit unsure but grateful nonetheless.

“Follow me, it’s not that far.”

She then started walking and they followed, still staying close to each other.

“I think we may have some goat cheese left,” Violet said, still in front of them, expertly avoiding stepping on unsteady rocks. “My wife makes them and they’re delicious – and I swear I’m not biased!”

Jaskier replied something; what, Geralt didn’t know. He let him carry the conversation like he always did, smiling and winking and actually caring about what was being said to him. Geralt was just happy to be there, Jaskier next to him. Happy to be known, too – he did need to take a break, after spending the whole winter teaching Ciri, and the beginning of spring fighting monsters. He would take care of Violet and her wife’s problem, they’d spend the night here, and they would go on the day after, pleased to be in each other's company. Maybe the life of a witcher could be sunny, too, sometimes.

***

“Honey? I found travelers that haven’t tasted your fine goat cheese yet!” Violet called out, a grin on her face as she opened the door of her house, the bells that were hung on it happily tinkling.

They had walked for ten minutes on a dusty road after finding Violet, the dog Charcoal running back and forth around them, always going back to her but lingering around Geralt in hope that he would pet him.

Jaskier knew that Geralt had a sweet spot for animals even if they didn’t always return it; he could think of at least three different occurrences where Geralt had looked absolutely dumbstruck when a dog had made its way to him before standing on his hind legs to beg for pets. On one occasion, a cat had made its way to their table when they were sitting in a tavern, and Jaskier would never forget how Geralt’s face had softened when the cat had allowed him to pet it.

Jaskier hid a smile when Geralt removed one of his gloves to pet the dog, who wagged his tail in obvious joy. Fuck, but bringing Geralt here had been a wonderful idea.

They were now waiting outside an admittedly pretty good-looking house, made out of dark stones that once must have been part of the volcanoes around them. The wood shutters looked old, but it seemed like someone had been carefully treating the wood with oil that would make it last longer, and it was overall obvious that the house was very well cared for – that it was not only a house, but also a home. Small, little violet flowers that Jaskier recognized as crocuses were growing under the windows, and it was absurd how much it made the place look welcoming and happy, as if an artist had put their brush here, adding a soft touch of color to an almost dark painting.

Jaskier was putting weight on his right leg since his left knee was still hurting him a bit – the bruise had gone from deep blue to pale yellow, but he avoided using that leg as much as he could, hoping that Geralt wouldn’t notice – though he had obviously failed at that, as Geralt had forced him to ride Roach earlier. It was something they did, now, Jaskier pretending that he didn’t want to ride and Geralt sighing fondly before helping him climb on the saddle.

“I’m surprised you even agreed to share it, honey,” a woman replied, short brown hair tied back by a black bandanna. She was almost tackled by Charcoal who in his joy to see her again had jumped on her. “Hold on, you doof, we’ve seen each other this morning.”

Violet was laughing again, and Jaskier smiled; it was good, to see people happy. It was good to see them with Geralt by his side, to let Geralt see that you could work but still let yourself be happy.

“Lila, this is Jaskier the bard,” Violet said, “and Sir Geralt. They’re quite famous, did you know? Sir Geralt said he’d take care of the thing that’s taking our sheep if we let him and his bard have lunch with us.”

Lila looked at them, squinting her eyes to see them better. Jaskier smiled at her, and Geralt – well, Geralt did his best, Jaskier assumed.

“Come on in, then,” she finally replied, “we wouldn’t want the stew to grow cold.”

***

The inside of the house was quite simple, but still showed that this place was a safe haven for both Violet and her wife and the travelers that apparently sometimes passed by.

“We’re not officially a refuge,” Lila explained as Jaskier helped her dress the table, “we just welcome people and offer them a room for the night – especially in winter, when it gets particularly cold outside.”

Jaskier nodded without replying anything. Lila seemed surlier than her wife but she still was a kind soul, ready to help. She reminded him of Geralt, in a way.

The room was nice; it was large, the windows letting the sun pour its light inside, brightening the place and making the floating dust look like sparks. There were plants hanging from the ceiling, and Jaskier saw that Geralt took a moment to admire them. It was strange, to see a house where a special thought had been put into the decoration – the places they were staying at usually didn’t care much for that kind of thing, and Kaer Morhen was more about practicality before beauty.

At the center of the room was a wooden table surrounded by two benches, one on which Geralt was sitting, listening to Violet who was animatedly talking, a dish towel in her hands, the dog sitting at her feet. Jaskier let his mind wander as he set down the pitcher full of wine but was brought back by the mention of his name in Violet and Geralt’s conversation.

“Jaskier and you, do I need to prepare two rooms? We have enough of them, it wouldn’t bother us.”

He tensed, but still pretended that he wasn’t listening. It would be weird, not sleeping next to Geralt after all these years – even at Kaer Morhen they had shared a room, Geralt not quite ready to let him go after barely escaping Nilfgaard and Jaskier needing the proximity of his witcher to be able to fall asleep. And they shared all the time on the path, to share warmth and to save coin.

But there were no threats here, no need to save their coin, and so Jaskier prepared himself for a sleepless night. It would be fine, not reading to Geralt, not braiding his hair before going to bed – it would be fine.

“Just one room will be enough,” Geralt replied, and Jaskier almost dropped the glasses he was about to put on the table. Well, that – that was nice. Maybe Geralt needed him close to be able to sleep, too.

Jaskier glanced up and met Lila’s eyes; she raised an eyebrow at him, clearly aware of his inner turmoil.

“Lunch is ready,” she announced instead of saying whatever it was that she had been thinking about Jaskier and his… feelings… for his traveling companion.

They took place on the benches, Jaskier and Geralt facing each other. Lila served the stew, and Geralt took Jaskier’s plate wordlessly, taking the carrots out of it and then giving it back to him. Jaskier smiled at his friend, and Geralt shrugged as if it were normal. Which it was, had been ever since Jaskier had said twenty years ago that he didn’t like carrots.

“So this beast,” Jaskier started, munching on his stew, “what does it do, exactly?”

Violet and Lila exchanged a glance, and Lila put her fork down, drinking a bit of wine before answering. Geralt had not stopped eating, though Jaskier had seen him discreetly hand Charcoal a piece of bread.

“It- takes the sheep,” Lila started, “and nothing else. Happens only at night, though, and Violet wanted to stay up but I told her that I’d rather not lose her to that thing. What are a few sheep next to my wife?”

Violet had blushed a little, but was fondly looking at her wife.

“There were footprints,” Lila went on, “but not ones that I could identify. Like, they look like ones of a wolf, but – they weren’t, not really.”

They all fell into a contemplative silence only broken by Charcoal’s loud breathing. Geralt slipped him another piece of bread, and Jaskier bit his cheek to prevent himself from telling him that he was teaching that dog terrible manners by rewarding him like that.

“How often does it happen?” Geralt asked, acting as if the big dog wasn’t lovingly staring up at him, hoping for more food.

“We don’t know,” Violet replied, her voice soft, “some weeks nothing happens, and then the next we lose two sheep and our dog.”

She looked up at Geralt, and Jaskier was stricken by the acceptance on her face.

“You said you would go and take a look, Sir Geralt, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll find it. But that would be okay – it hasn’t attacked us, and we know better than to go out during the night. And – you being willing to go already is – well, it’s-”

“What my wife is trying to say,” Lila cut in when it became obvious that Violet didn’t know how to end her sentence, “is that we’re already grateful that you would try to take care of it, and that even if you didn’t find anything, we would be okay. We’ve survived so far.”

Geralt nodded, and Jaskier found himself thinking about a song about two lovers, facing what Destiny was making them face, getting hurt and injured but always having each other and always going on –

Then he realized that it sounded a bit too much like him and Geralt, if him and Geralt had been lovers, and his ears grew hot.

“I’ll still go and see what I can do,” Geralt replied. “I’ll go tomorrow night.”

Lila nodded, and Violet smiled again.

“Now,” Violet started, “I was wondering, Jaskier, if you would be okay with playing something tonight?”

It had been a while since he had played for other people- well, okay, maybe not that long, but still. Playing for himself was okay, playing for Geralt was more than nice, but playing for other people? That was what had made Jaskier start to play, first for his sister who loved music but couldn’t sneak out to listen to music she actually liked like he could, then for bigger crowds. It wasn’t about being loved by his public, it was about people loving what they were hearing and forgetting about life for a while.

“Of course,” he smiled, “I’d be more than happy to.”

“He sings well,” Geralt said, and Jaskier blinked at him before feeling his face warming up.

“Why thank you, darling,” he managed to reply before turning to Lila. “Need help with something this afternoon?”

Lila looked at him with the same knowing look in her brown eyes that she had had earlier, and shrugged.

“Not particularly. Tomorrow, though?”

He grinned at her.

“I look forward to it. Now, tell me, I was promised a very fine cheese, made by the most talented cheese maker of the continent – her words,” he added while gesturing towards Violet, “not mine.”

Violet laughed and Lila stood up.

“I’ll go fetch it, it’s good with bread. If you haven’t fed it to the dog,” she added while glancing at Geralt, who froze on the bench. Jaskier burst out laughing, but still took his own piece of bread and broke it in half.

“Here, dear heart, take half of mine,” he managed to say, shoulders still shaken by his laughter.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, which only made Jaskier laugh harder, losing himself in the mirth of Geralt’s golden eyes.

#Geraskier #The Witcher #mine #geralt x jaskier #I love dogs #dogs are the best #cats too #but DOGS

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eldritcharchive · 4 years

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the witcher, heartless, cold

Read on AO3 | @bamf-jaskier 's Witchertober Day 20 - Feral

Witchers didn’t really go feral, despite the rumors circulating around the common folk. At least, most of them didn’t. Lambert never heard of a Bear or a Manticore or, hell, even a fuckin Wolf going feral. No it was always Cats. Something about their mutagens, accounting to Geralt - Kittens going through the Trials came out the other end with a much higher risk of going mad.

‘Madness’ for Wolves looked like kids in a catatonic fugue, like Eskel and Geralt waking up screaming in the middle of the night, like Vesemir asking Ciri to spar with Pups that weren’t there. They were benign madnesses, ones that weighed down the witchers the afflicted, but largely left the world around them unharmed.

Not so for Cats. Witchers from the Cat School were pumped full of poison, more so than the rest of them; it made them feel the world, the pain and the hell of it like the impact of a wyvern tail against your chest, the wind knocked clear out of your lungs doubled over with the sheer fucking shock of it. Aiden told Lambert once, what it felt like just to love him - “Obviously I got used to it, pulled everything back in,” he said, looking down at his hands where they lay on the blanket in his lap. “But, gods, Lambert, sometimes it’s like… like everything in me is boiling up through my throat and tearing out from between my ribs. It overcomes everything else until this… what we have? That first time it became everything and I almost…"

He stopped, then, looking away from Lambert, and Lambert? He was dumb enough to think he understood, and he wrapped his arms around Aiden's waist and pulled him close and the conversation was lost in a haze of desperate fucking.

Lambert didn't understand, would never understand but he did understand the sinking feeling he got in his gut when he woke up a month ago and Aiden was gone. By the time Lambert made it to the main house, Geralt looked grim.

"Aiden grabbed his swords from the barn," he said, infuriatingly calm with his arms crossed. "Took your horse. Looked like he was headed north. I got Elder Roach saddled up for you."

"Good. Thanks," Lambert managed to grunt out, turning toward the barn, but Geralt grabbed his arm. Lambert snarled, "let me go, pretty boy. I have to -"

"You have to go, I know," Geralt said, but his grip on Lambert's bicep remained tight. "And I'm going to let you. But you have to know what you might be walking into."

"What? He got pissed at me for something and left," Lambert snapped, "obviously. It was bound to -"

"Lambert, Eskel and I think he's gone Feral," Geralt said in a rush, undercutting Lambert's self-deprecating tirade. "If you'd said you knew where he was going, or looked… fuck I don't know, less upset? Maybe I wouldn't be telling you this. But as it is -"

Lambert wrenched his arm out of Geralt's grip. "Fuck you, Geralt," he snarled, "that shit's a tall fucking tale used to scare kids before the trials. Witchers don't go Feral." That was the truth of it, but something in Geralt's open and soft expression that keeps Lambert rooted in place. And he lets Geralt explain.

----

Lambert found Aiden in Sodden, in a small, no-name crossroads village, by following the scent of blood.

As he walks toward the village proper, the road becomes choked with red, rancid mud, every step marked in stark, sticky relief. He wasn’t keen on letting Aiden know he was here - not yet. Lambert veers into the treeline and stalks, wolf-like, through the underbrush and behind the inn, looking through the windows and taking horrific stock of the situation.

Villagers and travelers alike, were draped over tables - all had died from precise and brutal cuts to arteries and tendons, each sliced through multiple times. Definitely a Cat School style - quick and efficient - but executed as if A- as if the Witcher had been fighting something much larger, more violent than a human being. Lambert swallowed around the anxiety building in his chest and drew his sword before stalking forward.

Copper and iron, the acrid scent of blood and decay filled the air and made it difficult for Lambert to pinpoint his quarry. Difficult, but not impossible. He caught a whiff of sandalwood and sage, cat grass, and verbena under the oppressive scent of death. And, as he rounded the corner, he saw Aiden, stood in the crossroads, hunched and shaking. Lambert could see the thin, black veins in his face - he was near toxicity poisoning, given the number Lambert could count at this distance. And he was murmuring to himself.

“...not here, please, not here. Not yet.”

Lambert recognized the string of pleas - Aiden had whispered those words in his ear a number of times, and he’d whispered them to Aiden. In every near-death situation, they’d begged one another to stay just one more day. Please stay with me just one more day. Lambert felt his fingers shake, his grip on his sword felt loose and useless.

“A-” Lambert’s voice broke in his throat, the strangled noise startling the witcher in the crossroads. He whirled around, face twisted in a hideous snarl; Lambert dropped his sword. “Aiden, I’m here,” he said, taking a careful step forward, attempting to appear as unthreatening as possible. (Hilarious, given the carnage - how threatening is an elven blacksmith with a cast iron pan?)

For a moment, it seemed like Aiden recognized him - toxic black eyes searched Lambert’s face and Aiden’s expression slackens just a bit. It was luck that Lambert noticed the shift in Aiden’s stance before the Cat lunged at him - Lambert ducked, managed to pull his silver sword, and sliced upward in on practice, nearly automatic motion. Aiden fell, rolled to the side, his own blood mixing with the mud and the grass; he wailed inarticulately, grasping at his side as the wound opened wide across his torso, life leaking from his eyes in stray tears.

Lambert was there, at Aiden’s side as he always was, desperately pulling medical supplies out from his bag, as if salve and bandages would hold his lover, his best friend, together. He murmured to Aiden through heaving sobs, hoping, wishing for a miracle.

“Please, Aiden, please, not now.”

#the witcher #gideon writes #aiden x lambert #lambden #laiden #lamden #violence #blood #graphic depictions of violence #graphic description #mental breakdown #feral witcher

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thewitcherstan · 4 years

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He awakens to the sound of screaming.

Decades of habit have Geralt reaching for his sword, which always stays perched beside his bed. The candle next to him still burns dimly, casting a low glow into the room, and he squints in confusion when he finds neither monster nor man invading his space.

Movement next to him quickly draws his attention, and he frowns when he sees Ciri thrashing in the next bed over. He sets his sword aside, relieved that there’s no imminent danger, and briskly crosses to room to stand next to Ciri’s bed.

Geralt feels an uncharacteristic pang in his chest at the sight of her normally calm face twisted at horrors only she can see. He wishes this was a part of their reality he could spare her from. He sighs heavily.

“Ciri,” he calls, frowning when she flings an arm out, a whimper working its way up her throat. He knows he needs to wake her up quickly—it is when she is vulnerable that her powers are most volatile. “Ciri!” he says again, this time with more urgency.

She kicks violently, feet tangled in the blanket, and seems to panic even more. Geralt wastes no time before reaching a hand out and firmly shaking her shoulder. “Come on, kid, wake up,” he mutters.

The girl simply pushes against him, yelling again, and Geralt’s eyes widen as the glass of water on the nightstand trembles. He curses. She’s had nightmares before, sure, but never one this bad. Already, he’s thinking of what to say if someone approaches him about the noise.

He shakes his head, turning his full attention back to the traumatized girl in front of him. He can think about that later.

“Cirilla! Wake up!” Geralt repeats, shaking her a little and feeling bad for the bite in his voice. It’s worth it, though, because a second later, the girl’s eyes fly open with a gasp.

She reflexively flings an arm out to hit him, not fully awake yet, and Geralt catches her arms, gently holding her down so she doesn’t hurt herself.

“Easy, easy,” Geralt murmurs instinctively, as though trying to calm a spooked Roach. “You’re safe,” he tells her. “You’re at an inn with me, Geralt of Rivia. It was just a nightmare.”

He watches, face tight with concern, as realization seeps back into her eyes, which are brimming with unshed tears. Geralt cautiously releases his hold on her, and she brings her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them protectively. He waits for her breath to slow before he speaks.

“Are you okay?” he asks eventually, inwardly wincing at the stupid question. Obviously she’s not, but no one ever taught him how to calm a distressed teenage girl.

Ciri bites her lip, looking away from Geralt’s gaze. For a moment, Geralt thinks she’s simply going to ignore the question.

“It wasn’t,” she finally says, and Geralt furrows his brow.

“Wasn’t what?” he asks.

“'Just a nightmare',” she answers quietly, staring blankly at a spot in front of her. “It’s real. All of it. And if—if it didn’t happen to me, it happened to someone else.” She looks up at Geralt, then, a haunted look in her eyes that makes his chest ache. “They’re not just nightmares anymore. Not when I wake up and it’s just the same thing here.”

The words don’t sound like they should be coming from the mouth of someone who’s still just a kid. Geralt can see that she’s shaking, and he’s hit with a wave of protectiveness. Accompanying it, like a dissonant chord, is a string of doubt. He is not sure he’ll have the right things to say.

After all, this is their reality. A living nightmare that Geralt desperately wishes he could shield her from.

“Hey,” he says, making sure he has her full attention. She looks at him, and the amount of hope in her eyes scares him, though he’d never admit it. He pitches his voice low and soothing yet firm. “No one is going to hurt you while I’m here. And I won’t be leaving you.”

She gives him a twisted smile. “They all say that,” she says bitterly, and Geralt spares himself a second to remind himself of what Ciri has lost. Her parents. Her grandparents. Her home.

Geralt is all she has left.

“Ciri,” Geralt says firmly. “Look at me. I will not leave you,” he says slowly, letting the words sink in. The words burst from his chest, and he realizes he truly means it; now that she’s here, he can’t imagine ever leaving her again, can’t imagine losing her. He knows with a deep conviction that he’d sooner die than let someone take his child.

Her lower lip trembles then, and Geralt sees her composure start to crumble in front of him. A tear finally spills over, followed by another, and Geralt gently reaches out and places a hand on her cheek, gently swiping the tears away.

Ciri leans into the touch, a hand coming up to hold his hand there, and Geralt can feel how tense her jaw is from biting back her cries, clearly not wanting to appear any weaker in front of the Witcher.

He knows she needs to let this out now, rather than let the chaos of her emotions grow inside of her. “It’s okay,” he tells her.

She tries to keep it together a second longer, but then her body completely crumples, and she falls forward, curling in on herself with a heaving sob. Geralt quickly adjusts himself to catch her, wrapping his arms around her.

Ciri clutches at his shirt desperately as she cries, and Geralt simply holds her, giving her a safe place to let herself grieve all that she’s lost. He wonders if she’s ever let herself do that, if she’s ever had a moment where she felt safe enough to let herself break.

She cries and cries and cries, the force of them shaking her body. And despite his general rule of not pointlessly talking, Geralt finds himself murmuring a litany of nonsensical reassurances into her ear. “It’s okay,” he whispers to her, rocking her gently. “I’ve got you.”

Geralt’s not sure how much time has passed before her cries slow and she collapses against him, utterly exhausted. He carefully maneuvers them so his back is against the headboard and her head in his lap. His hand hovers over her head awkwardly before he brings it down, running a hand through her hair soothingly.

He absentmindedly hums a tune low in his throat, hoping to coax her the rest of the way into sleep. It’s not until later that he realizes the tune he hummed to her is the same one Jaskier always sang when he knew Geralt couldn’t sleep.

He tries not to think too hard about that.

Instead, he focuses on Ciri’s face, which is starting to slacken as she falls asleep, and Geralt is once again struck by just how young she is. It’s sometimes easy to forget. She carries herself tall, voice steady and calm during the day, even after hours and hours of walking and riding.

Even after everything she’s lost.

She shifts in his lap, and he freezes as her eyes open, just barely.

“Thank you,” she says, so quietly he almost doesn’t catch it. Geralt blinks, something inside of him softening.

“Go to sleep,” he tells her fondly, and she offers him the tiniest of smiles before closing her eyes again.

She knows that’s his way of saying, “You’re welcome.”

Geralt breathes a sigh of relief when she finally drifts off again. He’d never admit it, but he was so afraid he’d fuck the moment up, somehow make it all worse for the girl.

But she’s okay for now. They’re both okay.

And despite the heaviness of the night, his chest feels just a bit lighter. He’s good for Ciri, he’s realized. He makes her feel safe.

And Ciri? Well, she’s good for him, too.

Geralt closes his eyes, allowing himself to rest.

#sorry i couldn't help it #i havent read the books or played the game #but i can just tell geralt's gonna turn into a soft dad #the witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #ciri #cirilla #the witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #hope writes #soft dad geralt

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dw-writes · 4 years

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The Witch’s Wood - Preview

SO IM STRUGGLING TO GET THIS END AND KEEP THE PACE GOING!!! So, I decided to put a preview up!! It’ll be the first part, so I hope that you enjoy it!! :D Also, please remember this is an AU. So...yeah.

@imsupernaturalbaby @kingniazx @tranquility-or-chaos for the tags for this preview! :D

If you’d like to be tagged when I post the full piece, let me know!!!!

You knew something was on your street. The wind whispered it, even as it tumbled down a paved road where the streetlights no longer worked. You squinted into the darkness, trying to see just what it was that you knew was there, but couldn't see a thing. The light from your kitchen cast a sickly orange glow against the grass but did nothing to light up the darkness. You reached into the door and flicked on your porch light.

That was how you saw him, standing at the end of your driveway, with a hand on the head of his panting dog, and a yawn splitting his face in two. Geralt, from Rivia, that town somewhere up north? Or was it south? Geography was never your forte. It didn't have to be. He was something of a rumor in your town – a wayward traveler who dealt with the things in the woods and dark alleys that everyone else just pretended didn’t exist.

So, when you saw his hand linger on the head of his dog, and the yawn split his face, and his fingers shove the obviously greasy hair out of his eyes, you thought it best to do your part. “Do I call you Witcher?” you called as you stepped off your porch. You shrugged into your sweater, pulling it tighter around your body. The grass crunched beneath your feet, a testament to the cold that seeped into your bones. “Or is there something else to call you?” you asked.

He eyed you up and down, then stared at the screen door behind you. “Geralt,” he finally said. He shifted his weight, and you finally noticed a bag on his back.

You nodded slowly, and gave him your name, to which he also nodded. “Do you need a place to stay the night?” you asked slowly. The dog at his side perked up, her floppy ears swiveling towards you. You knelt, and the dog – a tall, and long dog, with a snout and fur that made you think of a horse – trotted to you.

“Roach,” came Geralt’s low warning. The dog sat just in front of you, tilting her head back with a whining yawn.

You stared up at the massive man in his dirty and stained clothes. “You named your dog Roach?”

“It’s a fish,” he grunted, “And yes.”

You cupped Roach’s ears and her attention snapped to you. “Yes, you named your dog after a fished called roach, or yes…what?”

He desperately wanted to roll his eyes, he really did, you could see the tight look around them as he tried not to. “We need a place to stay.”

You stood, and pulled your hand from Roach’s ears. “I have dog food. And the couch is comfortable—”

“I have a girl with me.” You arched an eyebrow at the words. Looking around the immediate area, you saw no girl, and thought for a moment that perhaps the Witcher wasn’t in his right mind. He must have saw your apprehension, your curiosity, because he straightened his back and cleared his throat. “Not here, she went to the gas station.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “For food.”

You checked your shoes and released a slow sigh. “The one down the street?” you asked. He nodded. “Okay, um…” You looked back at the screen door. “Make yourself comfortable inside. The dog food is under the kitchen counter.” He passed you close enough to smell the sweat and feel the heat radiating off him.

He grasped your arm before you could get far. “Her name is Ciri,” he mumbled. You looked up to meet his very bright eyes. “Cirilla.” You nodded. He released you and, brow furrowed, motioned to your house. “Do you have a dog?”

You smiled at that and shook your head. “No.” You tightened the sweater around you. “Something told me that I’d need it.”

You heard Geralt heave the heaviest of sighs before he walked inside. You glanced back, watched as the screen shut against his back, before heading off down the road.

The gas station wasn’t far, about two blocks, and was the brightest thing for those two blocks. A radio station played as you approached, and when you opened the door, you heard the tinny, distant sound of someone playing a video on their phone. You waved to the clerk behind the counter and followed the sound to the middle aisle. The girl leaned against the display of crackers with a smile. Her eyes were focused on the phone. You recognized the voice of the man – Jaskier, the insanely popular YouTube singer. She was watching “Toss a Coin” and shaking her head.

You leaned against the display next to her. “He’s good,” you murmured. She glanced up at you. “My sister really likes him.”

“He’s ridiculous,” she replied just as softly. She adjusted herself against the display and pulled her blue coat closer. “He said he’s going to meet us here soon.”

“Here in town?”

“Yeah.” You nodded at that. “Did Geralt send you?”

You nodded again. “Found him falling asleep in my front yard.” You reached up a hand and combed your fingers through her curly blonde locks. They were filthy. “Told him I have a couch. But for princesses, I have a spare bedroom.”

She squinted up at you. “I’m eleven.”

You pulled your hand away from her head. “Yeah, that sounded weird, huh?” She nodded. “Alright, you want anything from here? I’ll buy.”

Four bags of chips and three bags of jerky later, you were finally walking back into your house. The shower was running, and Roach was curled up on the smaller of your two couches. Ciri sat at one of the stools that lined the outer bar of your kitchen and pulled over an opened box of cookies that sat on the counter. “You’re not going to sleep with Geralt, are you?” she asked. You paused as you picked up one of the bags of chips, narrowing your eyes in confused suspicion. “It happens more than you think,” she clarified. She stuffed a whole cookie into her mouth. “Him sleeping with the people with stay with.”

“I don’t plan to?” you tried. You opened the bag.

“Well, I have headphones if you do,” she said. She looked around and helped herself to a glass of milk that sat where the cookies had been. She took a long drink from it. “So…” She nodded.

You watched her while you slowly tried to find your mouth with the chip in your hand. “Uh-huh. You’re eleven.”

“And my dad is the Witcher, and my brother TheTravelingBard on YouTube,” she added for you, “It’s not that weird.”

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bomberqueen17 · 4 years

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incremental progress

oh my god argh. Ancient Sea’s next chapter has been half-written for literally a month at this point, the scene with Lambert and Ciri-- two or three weeks, at least, possibly longer, I have no idea of the passage of time-- but I decided like a fucking fool that obviously the scene that had to happen first was Triss and Eskel finally figuring something out, right, and that is like

pulling

teeth

partly, to be fair, because I’m surrounded by tiny children, and even if they don’t read the text on my screen when they run up and shove their heads between my face and my keyboard, they’re CAPABLE of doing so, and also they’re really really fond of running up and shoving their heads between my face and my keyboard, and even with the reasonable assurance that they’re not going to read my screen, it’s still really really really hard to be in any kind of mindset to work on a sex scene (particularly a m/f one!) while this is ongoing.

but! but I did manage to get somewhat into it, so maybe someday... maybe someday...

Otherwise everything seems fine, nobody here’s got symptoms, but [tw TMI menstruation!] I’ve had PMS this past week I think and this morning I have those annoying theme-from-Jaws cramps, where nothing’s happening but it hurts but nothing’s happening but at any moment, possibly right this moment and possibly in three days, I will unexpectedly and suddenly ruin my underwear, that’s just how this goes. I am forty years old, I have been menstruating for twenty-nine years, and I still can’t fucking predict how it will go. Bleargh.

My BFF, a former math teacher, likes to do Math Tricks with the coffee. She’s got this thing about not drinking full-caffeine coffee, and Dr. Friend doesn’t drink caffeine at all (acid reflux problems), so he’s forever brewing pots of decaf and then we don’t realize, and anyway. She likes to brew it half-strength, and then does extravagant math to determine how strong it really is. Two days ago Dr. F brewed a pot of decaf, and there were two cups left when she brewed the next day’s half-caf on top so it was 2/5th caffeinated, and then there was a bit left of that this morning so at the moment i am drinking coffee that is 22/45ths caffeinated so I’m on my second cup because I can’t do fucking math and this is sort of mean.

ALSO it is a beautiful December day outside, white fluffy snow falling gently; yesterday it was hail. Someone said something about “the summer” and I genuinely didn’t know if the summer was approaching or departing, and couldn’t really remember what one was anyway. “Is it autumn?” I asked, sincerely. “Is it winter? What season is it? What month is it? What year is it?” I don’t know what day it is either, BFF accidentally made Sunday morning’s breakfast today and had classical music on the radio and was like “oh but it’s... is it Wednesday? I don’t know?”

It’s always a bit nebulous around here, as Dr. Friend doesn’t have weekends off, but the one milestone that never changes is that Thursday is Garbage Day so we were able to determine the day based solely on that.

anyhow here’s Triss being a goof:

“Believe it or not,” Eskel said, “I got a good mouth. Plus, if you sit on my face, you don’t have to look at it.”

“I like your face,” she protested, running a finger along his cheekbone, ignoring the scars. “But. It is an awfully long time since I had anybody--”

“Mm,” Eskel said, rumbling it low in his chest, “that won’t do. Please, let me.”

She laughed, and pushed herself up out of his lap. “Well, if you insist,” she said, and stripped her shift off over her head, which left her wearing only a pair of very tall woollen socks over a pair of even taller silk stockings gartered above her knees, and her slippers, little wool-lined sheepskin ankle boots. Warming charms were all well and good, and insulation charms even better, but Kaer Morhen was fucking cold and she was a delicate fucking flower: the socks were staying on.

#triss merigold #functional bi triss merigold #witcher eskel #my fic #personal updates #who even has boundaries anymore

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resident-beekeeper · 4 years

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This is a continuation of this post, because that was getting far too long so I thought I'd split it up.

When it gets to autumn it's time to get honey and wax.

Early autumn mind, so the bees have plenty of time to build up depleted stores ready for winter.

Geralt puts bee escapes in the hives they're collecting from (basically 1 way gate things that gets all the bees out of a super so they aren't there when you take it away), but obviously not in all of them because not all the colonies are strong enough to give honey.

Of course Jaskier insists upon helping Geralt carry the supers into their house because there are quite a lot of them.

Only it turns out that honey is very heavy and he doesn't have the upper body strength to lift a super and then carry it any distance. So Geralt takes it off his hands.

In his defence he did try very hard to lift a full super. Definitely gets points for effort, if nothing else.

The kitchen then gets covered in cardboard and sheets are hung up to cover the door frames. It is also thoroughly cleaned so the honey is free of bacteria and stuff.

Now it's time for spinning.

Geralt is old fashioned in his beekeeping and so has a hand powered centrifuge. Which means that he needs to spend a while spinning the honey round and round to get it out of the wax. It's pretty hard work and his muscles look very good.

This is the best picture I could find on the internet of a centrifuge. Mine is a little different and has a lid to help avoid spillages but its currently underneath a lot of stuff because I won't need it for several months. Anyway Geralt would spin the handle that's on the side.

Jaskier is on holding the centrifuge steady duty because he's strong enough for that, and not trusted with a knife. It also gives him a chance to look at Geralt's muscles but shhh.

Yennefer for some reason is trusted with a knife, so she's cutting the caps off the cells. (Honey gets little wax lid things put on it by bees to preserve it, called caps. This needs cutting off so that the centrifuge gets it out properly. A hot knife is best to cut through wax because it melts ot a bit.)

Ciri is in charge of giving Yennefer the honeycomb to cut the caps off, removing the wax that had been spun from the centrifuge from its wooden frames and giving hot water to Yennefer to heat up her knife.

Which sound like a lot but it doesn't take much to move around frames, and the hot water only needs replacing every 15 minutes or so. So it's only 1 proper job really.

This makes it sound a lot calmer than it was. It was highly highly chaotic.

For one thing, honey gets fucking everywhere and is very sticky. But it's also surprisingly slippery when theres above a certain amount in 1 place.

Jaskier keeps eating bits of honeycomb with honey in which slowly makes him feel sick from all the sweetness. But also now hes got beeswax in his mouth and nowhere to put it. And if you chew beeswax for long enough it gets all crumbly.

Ciri, Geralt, and Yennefer's hair gets honey and small bits of wax in it even though its tied back. None of them can go outside in case bees or wasps find them and follow them back inside to where all the honey is.

When all of the honey has been spun, and then transferred into a settling bin (a smaller tub that you put honey in to let bits of wax rise to the top so its easier to get them out of the honey) it's time to deal with the sticky wax.

Geralt and Ciri normally make beeswax candles together, but the wax needs to not have any honey in it otherwise it smells of burnt sugar when it burns and smokes a bit.

So they need to separate out the honey and wax by melting it. (Wax is hydrophobic and less dense than honey so it rises to the top and when it solidifies you can take it off in blocks. This often needs to happen twice.)

They all gather up the wax that Ciri got out of the frames and squash it into some metal dishes that Geralt has for wax melting. (I do not have this sort of thing, but I figured Geralt probably would. Instead I use dishes that are also used for food which are always a massive pain to clean.)

They then get put into the oven which is on very low, and left for a while. Geralt takes them out when the wax has melted because it's a lot of hot liquid that really needs to not be spilled especially because wax is very hard to get off stuff.

There's lots of metal wires in the wax that need taking out with great care, so of course Jaskier underestimates how hot the melted wax actually is, reaches into the wax to get the wires out, and promptly burns himself.

Ciri takes out the wire with a fork so that she doesn't burn herself.

She also takes out the wax that hasn't melted, which is bad for making candles with. (I have no idea why there is wax like that but there always is. Its generally a different colour too.)

Once its cooled down, Ciri takes the wax and cleans it. (Theres always gunk inbetween the honey and wax when it separates.)

Every year as a treat, Geralt lets Ciri choose one extra candle mould when she makes candles. At this point she has about 10, because she started off with more than 1 anyway.

This year she decides on a light house because she doesn't have many tall candle moulds.

Jaskier gets wind of this and decides he wants to get Geralt one. So he gets the THORNE catalogue and looks at the candle moulds. (THORNE is a supplier of bee stuff. There's so much stuff you can buy from them, including a bee suit with knee pads built into it. They sell candle moulds too, along with wicks.)

There are a lot of potential candles for Jaskier to choose from.

He's very tempted by the 'lovers' one because he is giving it to Geralt.

But then he turns the page and sees a candle that has been censored for the magazine.

And it is called '50 shades of wax'. So of course Jaskier has to get it because hes almost certain Geralt's reaction will be priceless. (This particular candle is one that I saw in a THORNE catalogue. I have no idea how many people would ever want to buy it, especially because you couldn't see what was going on because it had a red box covering most of it that said '18+' on it.)

He orders it separately from Ciri's though, because it needs to be a surprise and also he doesn't want to explain to Ciri why he got it for her dad.

When it arrives he shows it to Geralt just before they're about to go to bed.

Geralt isn't really aware of books that have come out even slightly recently, unless it's something that Ciri likes.

So when he sees what it's called, and especially without knowing what it looks like (it's a solid mould and a relatively complicated design so it's difficult to see what it is) hes just really confused.

Because of course you can dye wax so that it's different colours, but those aren't really shades?

And beeswax does come in slightly different colours, but that's normally impurities in the wax, rather than the wax itself being a different shade.

So Geralt just looks at it in confusion for a long time.

Jaskier eventually puts him out of his misery by explaining why it's called that, and roughly what it will look like.

But by this point the mood Jaskier was hoping for has well and truly been spoiled.

But at least he got a laugh out of it, if not how he was expecting to.

That's probably enough for now? I'm definitely gonna add more. They still need to feed the bees and actually make candles. Among other stuff.

(@jaskierisanangel because someone wanted to be tagged so they could see more? Which is wild to me but also makes me so happy)

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #yennefer #ciri #geraskier #bees #beekeeping #this was once again mostly a ramble about bees #the witcher au #if anyone want to know about bees #i will talk about them to pretty much anyone

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melasaik · 5 years

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ahh, It’s been a while since I’ve done a tag and this time I got tagged by @slavicafire ❤️

rules: answer 21 questions and tag 21 blogs you’d like to get to know better

nickname: Mela, although my family switches it up a bit by calling me Lissi, Snail, Mouse, Slug and my personal favorite, Moth (I swear all of these don’t sound as bad in german tho)

star sign: Leo sun and Aquarius moon and both are awfully fitting.

height: 170cm but I’m convinced that I was meant to be tinier because I’m always the tall friend but I never feel tall (I say while wearing platforms almost daily that boost me up to 180cm)

last film(s) I saw: Last film I never saw before was Bird Box, the actual last film I saw was the Handmaiden but this was my 5th time watching it Everyone go watch it

favorite musician(s): Emil Bulls, Powerwolf, David Bowie, Lady Gaga, Fleetwood Mac, girl in red, Hayley Kiyoko, Lana Del Rey, Red Velvet, Percival Schuttenbach

song stuck in my head: do NOT ask me why but I’ve got Here’s a Health to the Company from the Assassins Creed Black Flag shanties stuck in my head for weeks now

other blogs: uh boy I’ve actually been on tumblr since 2011, my very first blog even still exists (appaku-remade) and I only moved on this blog because of bad memories connected to the old one, back then I was a hardcore V-Kei fan blog tho it was wild

do i get asks: very rarely unfortunately, I actually love just talking about random stuff

blogs following: 145 and I try to keep it below 200 because I get easily overwhelmed when I see a bunch of different people on my dash and I have no idea who these people even are, not saying I know the first name of every person I’m following but I do know quite a few!

what i’m wearing: sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, winter is not the time of the year to be fashionable

dream job: translator for literature (prayer circle please)

dream trip: honestly? kinda everywhere except for the US but if I had to decide on a country to go to first it’d be Japan because that has been a dream of mine since forever

play any instruments: I used to go to bass lessons for like a year, then the teacher quit and the new one sucked so I stopped going and now I own a pretty bass but have no idea how to play

language(s): german, english and a bit of french, russian, polish, japanese and irish

favorite foods: pizza, fries and pretty much anything fish or sea food related

random facts: I own tarot cards but basically only ever do readings for my mom but all of them turned out to be pretty accurate; I DESPERATELY wanna move out because my flatmate is driving me insane and I don’t know if this qualifies as a random fact but I just needed to say it

favorite songs: I’m melawitch on spotify so knock yourself out if you manage to find the acc, other than that this song is what always comes to my mind first when someone asks me about my favorite song -> link

Not even close to 21 people but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (obviously, if you’ve been tagged already no need to do this again :> )

@tehsammutna @corvo-bianco-lilacs @vengerberg @martyelise @yennefre @edenorisshitposting @ciri-yen-iris @untaintedtea

#about me

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multiplefandomfics · 3 years

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The First

chapter 4

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x OFC!Jemima

Warnings: angst, fighting

Words: 1227

Last time: “She will be trained in sword fighting and reflexes here until spring but we can’t train her in everything she’ll need so we will bring her to Ellander to the Temple of Melitele and let Nenneke teach her.”

Two weeks later Jemima was helping Coën in the kitchen to prepare supper when they heard some ruckus going on in the hall.

“What’s going on?” she yelled alarmed as she came sprinting around the corner.

“Jem, this is Triss. She’s a sorceress who has stayed here before. Triss, this is the legendary Jemima. The only female witcher.” Vesemir introduced.

“Hello, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot of rumors but they all contained the information that you were dead. That must be an interesting story.” Triss beamed brightly extending her hand to shake Jemima’s.

“Indeed it is. It involves two Gryphons, a wicked witch and a coma which lasted 50 years.” Jemima summed up quickly.

“Did you know the witch? Or what she did to you?” Triss asked. Her interest definitely piqued.

“No, I did not know her. She was tall with long reddish- brown hair, light skin color with freckles on her nose and high cheekbones. And she had these creepy purple eyes. I am sorry I can’t give you a more detailed description. And to the other question: I have no clue what she did. She put me to sleep and when I woke up 5 decades had passed and I was alone. No trace of her but the whole town was empty and had been for at least that long.” Jemima finished.

“Hmm that’s- unusual. May I have a look at you?”

“Ehm, yes sure. But be careful I have the feeling that she did not just leave me there on purpose.” Jemima advised.

“I know what I’m doing but thanks anyways.” Triss winked. “Now, would you sit down and concentrate. Think about the day she had you trapped.” Triss had a very calming voice which sank to the back of Jemima’s mind and put her in some kind of trance. The other witchers standing by, watching intently.

Then Jemima could see it. The room with the mirror on the wall. The big fluffy bed. Long drapes over the windows. People on the street chattering. Hooves clattering on the cobblestoned street. And the witch. Standing over her. Speaking in hushed tones. Sounding like spellwork.

It seemed to be the scene which unfolded while Jemima had already been sleeping.

Suddenly a blinding red light filled the room and when the room was finally visible again, the witch was gone. And so was the noise from the street and a deafening silence fell over the scene.

Then the vision broke off. Jemima opened her eyes and gasped for breath.

“What the hell was that?” Geralt’s voice boomed through the hall.

They had obviously all seen the past.

“That was what Jemima’s conscience picked up while she was out. My guess is, that when the sorceress was prying her for abnormalities, some kind of really strong energy wave was emitted from Jemima and it atomized the witch and the whole town with her. I just don’t know where that kind of power came from. Jemima has no magical abilities aside from the normal witcher ones. But now that I know that invading her aura can be fatal I can be more careful than my predecessor.” Triss explained.

“You sure you want to try this? You saw what it did to her. It could kill you.” Geralt looked worried.

It threw Jemima a bit off. It was not normal for the brooding witcher to show emotion like that.

“I can do this Geralt. Stop thinking of me as if I was a child. I can handle myself.” she snapped. Which seemed like an overreaction.

“Geralt, if she wants to do that, let her. We trust her, remember?” Lambert spoke up for the first time.

“Hmm.” Geralt grumbled.

That was the end to this discussion but somehow Jemima had the distinct feeling that there was something they were not telling her. She let it drop for now because there was bigger fish to fry.

“So how do we do this?” Jemima asked into the silence.

“I am going to have to touch your temple and immerse into your subconscious to detect eventual power which could be locked inside of you. But this does not come without a risk. For me it is obvious but also for you. You could again fall into a very long coma or be trapped inside of your own mind forever. Think about this. We have time. And if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. But then you’ll never find out what’s wrong with you.”

“Alright. Thank you Triss. I will think about it. Right now I have a training session with Ciri. I’ll see you guys later.” with that Jemima was out the door.

“So, I guess I figured it out.” Jemima exclaimed in the evening while she was undressing for bed.

“What?” Geralt asked, confused.

“The matter between Triss and you. You two slept together and you have feelings for her, don’t you?”

“No, there is nothing between us. Yes, we shared a bed long ago but that was a mistake.”

“Ahh, that’s why she flipped when you doubted her abilities. That makes sense.”

“I didn’t doubt her. I am worried about you.” he choked almost on his words. “I can’t lose you again.” had Jemima not had advanced hearing she would have likely missed it.

“You are not going to lose me. I am strong, remember?” she snuck her arms around his torso and snuggled her head into his broad chest. “You know I love you Geralt, right?”

“Hmm, I love you, too.” he rested his chin onto the top of her head and stroked her back.

“Do you think I should let Triss do this?” Jemima mumbled.

“It is your decision but…” he thought about his next words.

“But?”

“But I think it is very risky and why would you even need to know this. You are fine the way you are.”

“Don’t you understand? Geralt, I seem to be a living bomb in the right moment and I don’t know how this works. I fucking pulvarized a whole village. And I am damn scared of myself. I need to know what this is and how I can stop it!!” she yelled,tears streaming to her eyes more in anger than in sadness.

“No, I don’t understand you. Nothing has ever happened until that wicked enchantress scrambled your mind. It’s not damn worth it.”

“You are a selfish bastard Geralt! You make all this about you. YOU don’t want to lose me because YOU can’t be alone! But this is MY life, MY decision!! You have no say in this! Understood?”

“Fine! If you want to throw your life away I don’t care anymore. Maybe I should be more like the picture people have of witchers and not feel at all.”

“Good. If that’s what you want! I’ll sleep in my own room.” She grabbed her clothes and stormed out the door in her nightgown.

Needless to say that the night was spent tossing and turning without much sleep on either side.

chapter 5

#thewitcher #netflixshow #GeraltofRivia #ofc #smut #fanfic #angst #magic #TrissMerigold #princess cirilla #ciri

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