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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 2 years

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Knot On My Watch

My second fic for @witchersummercamp! You can either read it below the cut or on AO3.

Prompt: Heat

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: E

Words: 2K

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics; a lot of mercenaries dying violently

Summary: When a band of trained killers think they can get the best of Geralt while he’s holed up in Jaskier’s Oxenfurt townhouse for his heat, they’re in for a rude surprise. So is Jaskier, who—knotted deep inside his lover—has no choice but to cling onto Geralt’s back and hold on for dear life once the swords come out.

There are only four places on the Continent where Geralt can let his guard down enough to be knotted—Kaer Morhen, the Temple of Melitele’s heat rooms, Yennefer’s cottage in Vengerberg, and Jaskier’s faculty lodgings in Oxenfurt.

Before Jaskier—and later Yennefer—came into his life, his summer heats were miserable affairs. Lambert, the only other Wolf School omega there’s been in Geralt’s lifetime, has a winter heat, the lucky bastard. He spends his heats warm and safe in Kaer Morhen, knotted by Eskel or Coën.

But for Geralt, heats were once spent holed up in abandoned shacks or caves and hoping that his hands wouldn’t be too slippery to grab his sword if something hungry—be it man or monster—was drawn by the scent of an omega in heat. Eventually, he made a deal with Nenneke that he could hole up in one of the Temple of Melitele’s heat rooms, sometimes with the company of a whore from the local brothel or a willing priestess, but usually with nothing but a wooden knot to satisfy him.

But he hasn’t spent a heat alone in nearly twenty years, not since that first summer traveling with Jaskier when his heat hit nearly a month early and he had no choice but to hole up in a cabin with the irritating, overeager alpha bard that had been stuck to him like a wyvern’s barbed tail for months.

Jaskier’s technique has improved significantly after twenty years spent together. For one, he almost always manages to make it inside Geralt before he pops a knot.

Right now, Geralt can feel the knot swelling inside him as Jaskier fucks into him, his chest hair tickling Geralt’s sweat-slicked back. They’re about twelve hours into Geralt’s heat, long enough that they’re both sticky and sweaty. It’s a hot, muggy night in Oxenfurt and the room is oppressively warm, despite the window they’ve cracked open to let in a nonexistent breeze. But Geralt is too drunk on the pleasure of having Jaskier deep inside him, his lover’s lips on his neck and one hand stroking through his hair, to give a damn right now.

“Geralt,” Jaskier gasps. “Oh, love, you feel so fucking perfect. Gods.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. Even after all these years, Jaskier still acts like he’s never been inside an omega before every time they fuck.

“Don’t laugh at me.” But there’s no real ire in Jaskier’s words. “You wouldn’t laugh if you could feel what it’s like to be inside you.”

Geralt clenches down on Jaskier and is rewarded by a throaty moan as Jaskier comes. His knot swells inside Geralt, anchoring him as he starts to feel his own pleasure build in his lower belly. Despite reaching his own satisfaction, Jaskier continues to thrust, his knot rubbing deliciously against that sensitive spot inside Geralt. Jaskier’s hand wraps around Geralt’s cock as his lips find the long-healed mating bite over Geralt’s pulse point and Geralt groans as he grinds into the tight circle of Jaskier’s fist.

The creak of a floorboard in the hallway stops him mid-thrust.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s voice is hazy with pleasure. “You alright, love?”

Geralt’s witcher senses are muddled from heat, but he forces himself to listen. Shani has stopped by a few times with food, pitchers of water, and cool cloths, but that’s not Shani’s heartbeat in the hallway. Nor would Shani show up with six friends.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asks again, and this time there’s real concern there. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Jaskier’s knot won’t go down for at least another ten minutes. If there are seven intruders inside the house, then they don’t have another ten minutes. They didn’t even bother locking the door; there didn’t seem to be a need. This close to Oxenfurt’s campus, they thought they were safe. They always have been here.

“Wrap your legs around my waist.” Geralt keeps his voice low. “And hang on.”

“Hang on?” Jaskier hisses. “What do you—”

The door flies open, ricocheting off the wall. Geralt rolls to avoid the crossbow bolt fired at them, taking a shrieking Jaskier with him. The bolt embeds itself in the headboard right behind where Jaskier’s head just was. Jaskier curses colorfully, his arms and legs wrapping around Geralt and clinging for dear life, as Geralt snatches his steel sword from where it’s leaning against the wall. Geralt dodges another crossbow bolt, whirling to face their attackers.

There are seven of them, mostly alphas with a couple of betas scattered among their ranks, all armed to the teeth. Trained mercenaries, Geralt can tell from a glance. This isn’t an angry group of townspeople with a grudge against witchers or a ranting group of Eternal Fire acolytes. These are trained killers who probably thought that Geralt would be less dangerous in the midst of his heat.

“Geralt!” Jaskier shrieks as the mercenary with the crossbow fires again. Geralt knocks the bolt from the air with a flick of his sword.

“Hold on tight, Jask,” Geralt says and moves.

A man holding an enormous ax rushes at him, weapon held aloft. Geralt parries the blow and runs him through with a sickening squelch.

“Geralt, this is a Metinnan rug!” Jaskier moans.

Geralt ignores him, sending a blast of Aard at the archer. The man’s crossbow releases as he sails backwards against the wall, hitting one of his fellows in the throat. His unfortunate victim falls with a gurgle.

“On your left!” Jaskier shrieks, his fingers digging into Geralt’s too-sensitive chest painfully.

Geralt grimaces as he sidesteps the tiny, wicked-looking dagger one of the mercenaries throws at him. “Watch what you’re grabbing onto.”

“Ah, sorry.” Jaskier pats him apologetically, then cries out. “Sword! Lots of swords!”

Two men with swords, both burly alphas, come rushing at Jaskier and Geralt. One aims for Geralt’s belly. The other has his eyes fixed on Jaskier. Geralt leaps back, out of the way of the sword aiming for him, and decapitates the mercenary focused on Jaskier. The other attacker shouts with rage, throwing himself at Geralt. He’s a big man, even taller and broader than Geralt and without the haze of heat dulling his senses—and without a bard clinging to his back like a barnacle.

“Geralt!” Up until now, Jaskier’s scent has been mostly shock and a little anger. For the first time, it fills with the bitter scent of fear. “Crossbow!”

Geralt looks over to see that the archer has regained his footing and has his crossbow pointed squarely at them. Seizing the big alpha by the beard, he yanks the man towards him. The bolt hits the alpha in the shoulder and he howls with pain. Geralt slits his throat, holding him like a shield as another bolt whistles through the air. Jaskier lets out a cry.

“What’s wrong?” Frantically, Geralt twists to see Jaskier the best he can. The scent of blood and pain is so heavy in the air that he can’t tell if any is Jaskier’s. The archer shouldn’t have been able to hit Jaskier at that angle, but if he missed a second crossbow—

“He shot my curtains!” Jaskier moans. “Geralt, they were brand new. I had them imported from—”

“Jaskier, I do not give a fuck about your curtains.”

The archer shoots another bolt and a vase shatters. Jaskier makes a noise like he was the one shot.

“That was my grandmother’s!”

Geralt doesn’t mention that Jaskier was so pleased when he learned that his grandmother died that he nearly bankrupted them buying drinks for an entire tavern. Instead, he drops the corpse in his arms and rushes at the archer. It’s a risky move, but the crossbow is the most dangerous in the room; he needs to neutralize it. At the sight of an angry witcher rushing at him, the archer fumbles reloading his crossbow. It’s that fumble that gives Geralt the time he needs to bring his sword down on the weapon, splintering it and severing the man’s hand. As the archer howls in pain, Geralt decapitates him.

“That was for my vase, you son of a whore!” Jaskier shouts. “And my curtains!”

Geralt turns on their remaining two attackers, breathing hard. He’s sure he’s a sight right now, naked as the day he was born, covered in their compatriots’ blood, with a screeching alpha clinging to his back. He smiles his nastiest smile as he takes a step towards them.

“You leave now and you can live,” he tells them. “I’d rather get back to what I was doing.”

The men glance at each other. One is a wiry, balding beta with a dagger in each hand. The other is a burly alpha with a broadsword. “We’re not leaving without your head, witcher whore,” the alpha says as two more men appear in the doorway.

Fuck.

Jaskier’s grip on Geralt tightens as all four attackers rush him at the same time. Geralt meets them with a growl of rage. He dodges and parries, his focus solely on keeping Jaskier out of the range of any blades. The wiry beta catches Geralt on the bicep with one of his daggers and Geralt grunts in pain, driving his sword into the man’s chest.

Jaskier tugs on his hair frantically. “On your left!”

“I’m not a horse, Jaskier.” Geralt jerks his blade from the beta’s chest and turns in time to meet the alpha’s broadsword. He didn’t have time to properly brace himself as he’s driven backwards a step. He’s aware of one of their remaining attackers circling behind him, in range of Jaskier, and he feels his first true surge of fear. He can’t turn around without opening themself both up to a strike from the broadsword-wielding alpha. But if he doesn’t turn around, Jaskier will be easy prey.

There’s the thunk of metal meeting flesh, but the grunt of pain isn’t Jaskier’s.

“Ha! Take that, you pox-ridden jackass!”

Geralt chances a glance over his shoulder to see that Jaskier has grabbed a candelabra and is waving it around wildly. He managed to get his attacker in the nose; the man is clutching his bloody face. He swings wildly as the broadsword-wielding alpha, who ducks back. Geralt takes advantage of the slip in the alpha’s defenses to run him through. He turns in time to see the man whose nose Jaskier broke lunging at him and buries his sword into the man’s eye.

The corpse hasn’t even hit the floor before the surviving mercenary is sprinting for the door. Geralt lets him go. Let the fucker spread word of what happens to those who come after Geralt’s mate. Let him make sure that whoever hired these fuckers is never able to find someone else to take the contract, because they’ll know that Geralt is just as dangerous in heat as any other day.

“Fuck,” Jaskier says, letting the candelabra thunk to the ground.

Geralt grunts an agreement, looking around at the carnage. Jaskier’s bedroom is filled with bodies, the Metinnan rug soaked and the walls splattered with blood.

“Are you hurt?” Jaskier pats his cheek.

“Just a few scratches. You?”

“Not a single scratch.” Jaskier presses a kiss to the shell of his ear. “You took good care of me, love.”

“Don’t I always?”

“You do.” Jaskier sighs. “You know, when I said I’d be open to trying knifeplay someday, this is not what I had in mind. I pictured less brain matter on the curtains.”

“Improves the curtains.”

“You take that back, witcher!”

Geralt feels Jaskier’s cock finally slip out of him, come dribbling down his thigh. It reminds him of the ache of heat inside of him, still not fully satisfied. Now that the adrenaline of the fight is fading, there’s nothing to distract him.

Jaskier slides off Geralt’s back, groaning when his feet hit the blood-soaked carpet. “Well, that was excellent teamwork, Geralt. Honestly, I don’t think you could have done all that without me. Perhaps I should forge some armor for myself and take up witchering.”

Geralt, who remembers the days when Jaskier still fainted at the sight of a blood and is a little surprised he’s not fainting or vomiting right now, makes a noncommittal noise.

Jaskier glances downwards. “Darling, not that I’m not delighted to see it, but how are you still aroused after all of that?”

Geralt also looks down and sees that his cock is still fully hard and his thighs damp with slick. “My heat doesn’t care about armed assassins.”

Jaskier tips his head back and guffaws. “Remind me to incorporate that into my next song. The White Wolf’s mighty sword doesn’t flag in the face of any foe.”

“Bard, I will kill you.”

“Not until your heat is done, you won’t.” With a wink, Jaskier starts to gather up the piles of bedding off the bed.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asks.

“Well, this room is an utter disaster. There’s no fixing that. You’re going to need to buy me a new rug and new curtains. Possibly a new house. But in the meantime, we may as well pick this up in the other room. What kind of alpha would I be if I let my omega’s heat go unsatisfied?”

“Hm.” Geralt glances down at the closest corpse. “We might want to figure out who sent them. Or at least which one of us they were here to kill.”

“That can wait until tomorrow, or maybe the day after. We should probably close the windows though. Don’t want the bodies to attract flies.” With his armful of bedding, Jaskier starts towards the bedroom door, stepping carefully around corpses. “Come on, Geralt, it’s a beautiful night for a life-affirming fuck.”

Geralt thinks about arguing, but he can still feel the need pulsing inside him and he has a perfect view of Jaskier’s cute little ass and strong legs right now, which is more compelling than any point he could make.

“You’re the strangest alpha I’ve ever met,” he says as he goes to close the window.

From the doorway, Jaskier grins over his shoulder. “And you’re the strangest omega I’ve ever met. Isn’t it lucky we found each other?”

Geralt hums in agreement and follows Jaskier from the room, closing the door on the bodies littering the ground. Jaskier is right; they can deal with that in the morning. For now, Geralt has a heat to finish in peace.

***

If you enjoyed, please consider leaving kudos or comments on AO3!

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @mosaicscale @tsukiwolf42 @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #alpha/beta/omega verse #ghost's fic #ghost's writing #witcher summer camp 2022

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unknownmusing · 1 year

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The Witcher Fanstory - Ioroche Fic: 'Fate Never Comes by Accident' - (Part 1 of ?)

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Notes:

Iorveth/Vernon relationship

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Alpha Iorveth and Omega Vernon

1 of ? parts

For @chamotea, @apastandfuturenerd and other Ioroche Shippers out there

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Summary:

For a long time, Vernon Roche - Temerian Commander of the Blue Stripes, Foltest's Hound and right-hand man - has been hiding his status as Un-mated Omega, even though in the past King Foltest ordered for his Scent-gland to be 'Cut' and his Crest Fronds on the nape of his neck to be 'Scarred' so that he didn't send Foltest's men into a rut-filled frenzy - until one day he returns to a place where he first met his long-term enemy - Iorveth.

Complicated issues arise though when Vernon, experiences Heat-sickness; rumours spread that Nilfgaard is spreading it's way across the map and plan to attack Vergen next and Aen Seidhe Alpha finds himself falling for his long-term enemy.

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PART 1 - Prologue - 'Returning to a Place where One First met their Enemy'

"Water's cold as hell. Come on, witcher!" Vernon Roche - Temeria Commander of the Blue Stripes, hidden Omega and Un-Mated - shouts up at the white-haired Witcher, who is taking his sweet time in the large boat bearing on the large sail the crest of the Temerian lilies busy making sure everything is sorted - before joins him and Triss - the female Sorceress, who had decided to accompany them both.

It meant to just be him and Geralt doing some 'Reconnaissance' only for Triss Merigold - a Beta, thankfully and not an Alpha as he didn't need two on the ship it would just cause problems even though he never gone into Heat for quite some ever since Foltest had turn the 'Scent-Gland Cutting' process do him not wanting an Un-Mated Omega sending his men into a Rut-filled frenzy - to decide she was coming with them and she want take them saying 'No' to her about it.

" Your witcher's arse is going to have to get wet. Jump." He shouts up, seeing Geralt looking down at them then swing himself effortlessly over the side of the boat to splash right beside him with his Alpha scent less dulled - which meant the wee flask he seen the Witcher taking was Pheromone Nuller, to help null the scent of an Alpha or Omega - where soon the three of them head wade out of the water to the riverbank.

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Following the riverbank, the group of three make their way to Flotsam - a small village surrounded by a large tall forest which according to Roche's secret informer was overrun by a group of Scoiateal with very strong Alpha Leader who lead them - with Merigold starting to ask him questions, while the Witcher walks behind them checking stuff on the way - plants, tracks and occasionally placing some in his satchel.

"Any news from your secret informer?" She asks him, forcing him to sigh heavily because what can he tell her - most of it so poetically written it given him countless headaches to figure what his informer was talking about, he blames Thaler for choosing a Bard to be his secret informer for information.

"The port's blocked. Some merchants have been hold up for months…" Roche replies, pinching the bridge of his nose when feels another headache coming on and slight sickness in the stomach - something which even Ves, his second-in-command who felt more like his daughter had noticed commenting he should see a Special Doctor about it in case it were something affecting him - quickly turning to look over his shoulder to see where their wayward Witcher is.

Geralt, looks like he's choosing not to get too close to him but indicates he's alright and that they should keep on moving.

"What about roads through the forest...? Merigold asks him, making him turn his face back to her when the trio continue to walk along the river-bank, shafts of sunlight shining down through the towering canopy of trees above their heads.

Vernon, tries not to think of his first mission to Flotsam, where him and Ves along with the rest of the Blue Stripes had attacked on the road they took to get to the place by Scoia'tael resulting in such a clash he been glad to get away by the fabric of his gambeson seeing the leader - Iorveth - being held back by his men, holding a scrap of it in one gloved hand, mouth bloodied and smirking at him.

"Iorveth rules the forest...." He states in reply, cheeks flooding with heat at the memory of that annoying Scoia'tael grabbing him mid-way through their fight to lick his cheek where he ascertained a cut followed by stealing a kiss from his lips that afterwards he punched his enemy for good measure due to the un-wanted kiss.

"Where are we?" Roche asks suddenly, confused because they way their coming he doesn't remember - had Flotsam outskirts changed so much, he literally couldn't remember his way or was this a different route from the one he first taken during his first mission to the place hearing the Sorcress beside chuckling at his question. That didn't help him at all in hearing it.

"In a forest, Roche. I thought you've been to Flotsam before." She says, seeing how he looks at her with slightly widened eyes then giving shrewd glare - because how would she knew that unless one of his Blue Stripes had let it slip out - at her, finding himself that he's going have to talk to his men about what they say to the female sorceress.

The three of them are just about to go around a corner when a hand touches his arm, stopping him from going further that flicks his gaze to Geralt, who's come up to him tilting his head slightly like he can hear something Roche can't hear at the moment.

"Hear that?"

Listening, Roche, quickly catches only the brief rustling before it moves on than a sudden scent wafts it way towards to wrap around him - his internal ovaries of his Omega body choose at the sametime at the moment to cramp painfully - that he immediately recognises the scent.

There was no mistake on who it was.

"I....smell....an elf..." Roche grits out, forcing himself to concentrate when he makes his way around the corner of the riverbank, his ears picking up the sound of the flute starting to be played that tries to rid himself of the haze which is starting to settle in.

Something which been happening quite a lot when a Alpha with intense scent confronted him or released their scent into the air - to ascertain where it's coming from.

A short distance down the riverbank, the trio finds the player of the flute - an elf, wearing the colours of forest emerald-green with badges stolen from mutiple factions playing a ornately carved wooden flute, the red badanna covering one of their eyes - that Vernon Roche, chokes out "That's......." when recognises precisely who it is.

Iorveth - his long-term enemy, an Elf and also an Alpha - who sensing he's being watched lowers his flute to get up turning on the fallen log he been sitting on - waiting it seems for them to arrive, so had that been what had been watching them from the cliff-face above hidden by the foliage above as him, Geralt and Merigold stood on the riverbank discussing their best course of action - to face them, confronting Roche straight away.

"Vernon Roche! Special Forces Commander for the last four years. Servant of the Temerian king. Responsible for the pacification of the Mahakaman foothills. Hunter of elves, murderer of women and children. Twice decorated for valor on the field of battle.."

Irked so much by hearing this, Roche, lets out snarl baring his Omegan fangs as he tries to shake off the cloying scent wrapping more strongly around now he was in front of the very source of it, he hits back not caring whether it offends or doesn't offend the Alpha elf in front of him.

"Iorveth - a regular son of an Alpha whore." He spits out, seeing Iorveth bristling at the comment his Alpha scent increasing ten-fold that Roche, wonders how's he still trying to stand even as his internal Omegan Ovaries cramp painfully within his body and sweat begins to form on his body.

"I've long awaited our next meeting. You left me with this parting gift, last time, you came here." Iorveth smirks out, bringing up the piece of gambeson - Temerian blue-coloured, even though faded - to show off to Roche, who balks at the sight of it feeling behind Merigold and Geralt stepping closer to him . "Laid down plans, set many traps... And now you appear in my forest of your own volition."

"SHUT UP!!" Roche shouts, stepping closer to the where Iorveth, stands looking down at them so irked and annoyed that he's just gonna to bear the Alpha scent wrapping around it's way around - like a caress slipping all over him and getting under his skin to saturate him in it. "You aided the man who slew my King....."

"Alpha or Beta King or Beggar - What's the difference? One dhi'one less." Iorveth barks back at him, baring his own Alphan fangs down at Roche - part of his mind wondering what would like biting down into his Crest Fronds on the back of his nape and Scent glands on the side of his neck if had them - who wills himself not rush into literally attacking the elf, he needed to make time for Merigold and Geralt do their thing so continues in berating his long-term enemy.

"Triss, we need to take him alive. Know any useful spells?" Geralt whispers over to Triss.

Seeing how the situation between Vernon Roche and the very tall, Alpha elf called Iorveth is going.

One who's scent was definately potent, Iorveth, would have to be what was called an Aen Siedhe Alpha, one who was more powerful than any Alpha elf or even Human Alpha that he's glad he took his Omega Nuller because Geralt, wasn't Alpha at all but an Omega Witcher and the only one who was as far as knew of.

"Get his attention. Divert it from Roche." Triss whispers back in reply, her hands crackling with magical energy that it makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle - 'Fuck' he thinks 'She's serious with it' - up and down due to the atmosphere becoming electrified around them slightly as she calls on the source of her Powers to use it.

"I'll try." He cracks out, shaking of the static shock he's getting to move over to Roche, who's nearly at breaking point that this makes Iorveth, flick a single emerald-green gaze over to him with a look 'Who are you to be interrupting us?'

"Climb down and we'll finish this. I await....." Vernon shouts, before moving to lean against boulder with one hand on it looking like he's going collapse at any moment leaving Geralt to hear Iorveth chuck back a response of. "Hah! You're a man without honor, Vernon Roche. An insect I'll not duel, but one that I will crush after I deal with Vhatt'gern here..."

The glare he receives, forcing him to raise any eyebrow in response, crossing his arms over his chest choosing to say his next words carefully or not too carefully if he actually thought about them.

"Seems you spout the same old Elven drivel." Geralt states up to Iorveth, hearing an indignant splutter in Elvish come from the Alpha elf with the bows of the Elvish archers hiding in the shrubbery tightening coming back to him with a question.

"What do you mean, Vhatt'gern? One who hides his true status. You should be ashamed as Omega for hiding it..." Iorveth argues down at him, outing him straight-away that Roche, who's been listening looks at him with confusion and bewilderment that Geralt, knows there is no use hiding it now he been outed by the Alpha elf who smirks at him because both know he's right about him.

"I have my reasons. But that's not why I'm here or my companions." Geralt reasons out, avoiding even looking at Iorveth, who gives a shrewd glare down at him - whether in disgust he doesn't know as of yet.

"Speak then. Tell me you're reason...I'm waiting." Iorveth says, sitting back down again on the fallen log with Geralt, flicking his gaze over to Roche, who's breathing is slightly laboured and looking like he's been drugged up to eyeballs with fisstech when he knows it's Iorveth's Alpha pheromones affecting the other man - though in a way which is very concerning, so would have to make it quick.

"Fine. Since your so piqued to listen, Squirrel." Geralt grits out, gleefully smirking when Iorveth tenses at being named something which the Scoiateal hating being called giving him a look of pure loathing then continues. "The Kingslayer's among you. We've come for him and only him."

"Are you sure? You do know he's an Alpha, don't you, Vhatt'ghern?" Iorveth asks him, smirking when Geralt curses so loudly in his native langauge associated with where he came from Triss, admonishes him for it by sending static electricity increasing one of the Elvish archers says something oddly like 'Damm, Mosquitos!!?" leaving Iorveth, to look at them both with suspicision.

"Then our interests collide... The Alpha Kingslayer is under my protection and I'll not hand over a guest." the elf continues, when Geralt, is not quick to come back with anything or manage to having been stunned into silence at the new information - the Kingslayer of Foltest was an Alpha, which meant getting close to them was going be very difficult.

"Enough of this!!" Iorveth shouts, startling all three of them at the tone - because it not been shouted normally, but in a Alpha command - forcing Geralt to resist kneeling down on both knees due to it - the last time he did, it been something he never wanted to be forced to do again - with Roche, trying to the same even though his knees are nearly buckling and his body wanting to obey the Alpha above him.

"TRISS NOW!!!" Roche hears Geralt shouting - voice muffled though like he's just submerged underwater - hearing some Elvish being shouted, followed by series of spitting curses and hisses.

Managging to turn his face to look, Vernon sees Iorveth - his long-term enemy - is lying on the ground bound by electric coils which are wrapped tightly around the elf Alpha, who struggles only to give up when he realises he's been caught.

"Bloedhe.....Vhatt'ghern......I'lll.....Gaaa.....kill that Sorceress......Urghhh...." Iorveth snarls out, followed by slumping in exhaustion with a silent command to Ciaran, who's looking down from the hiding spot above to get back to Base.

There is nothing at the moment he could do, seeing Letho, the large Alpha Witcher behind his second-in-command looking at white-haired Vhatt'gern with something like sadness he couldn't tell because soon he's hauled up by the Sorceress, using one of the tendrils of magical coils like a leash or rope.

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#The Witcher Fanstory Collection (1 of ?) - Ioroche Fic: 'Fate Never Comes by Accident' (PART 1 of ?)#iorveth/roche #Set during Assassin of Kings #Omega Vernon #Alpha Iorveth #Omega Geralt #alpha/beta/omega verse #slow-burn romance #Vernon suffers Heat sickness #Betrayal hinted at #Emotional/Hurt/Comfort moments #Emotional Angst Alert #Ao3 Version will also be updated as well #Pictures sourced from various sources #Do not copy and repost elsewhere #The Witcher Fanstory Collection #the witcher

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samstree · 2 years

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new life, new beginnings

Jaskier has never had an Alpha use their mouth on him. Geralt aims to change that. (2.6k, explicit, pregnant sex ☆ AO3)

When Geralt presses their lips together, the moan that escapes Jaskier’s throat goes directly into his core, coiling hot with fervor. Fumbling hands grab at Geralt, making him topple over into bed and almost crush into Jaskier’s pregnant belly.

“Easy, bard,” Geralt huffs. “We don’t want to hurt the little one.”

Jaskier’s eyes are bright in the candlelight, his pupils blown wide with desire, his chest heaving. His warm blush spreads down his neck where the laces of his nightgown are tied messily. The soft tunic slips off one shoulder, exposing the slight swell of his chest, letting his warm scent fill Geralt’s senses.

Gods, that scent is intoxicating. Now with child, Jaskier smells even sweeter, like a lush meadow on a hot summer day, and it’s not even the last stage of his pregnancy yet. Geralt shudders to think how he’ll be able to resist Jaskier when he’s truly plump with life and flowing with hormones.

Luckily, he doesn’t think he will have to.

“Well.” Jaskier swallows hard, cradling his baby bump. “I trust you won’t.”

“Hmm. Trusting Alphas so easily.” Geralt wraps an arm behind Jaskier’s back to support his heavy midriff, before latching onto the skin under his ear. “Is that how you ended up in this situation?”

A chuckle huffs at Geralt’s ear, tickling the stray hair at his temple.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I know enough.” Geralt pulls away, his brows raised. “Like how when I leave you for seven months, you will somehow get yourself pregnant, married, and immediately widowed.”

“Shush, now. That’s not the order known by the public.” Jaskier’s eyes glisten with mischief. “Mind you, I’m still in mourning.”

“Poor you,” Geralt deadpans, looking down at the debauched sight of Jaskier under him, squirming between his arms and breathing hard.

Jaskier only snorts. “And who are you to judge me for trying to have a little fun?”

“A little fun? Is that what we are doing?”

Jaskier pulls Geralt into another filthy kiss, his tongue nimble and teasing. “Not if we keep talking, witcher.”

While Jaskier’s mouth is busy driving Geralt crazy, his hands have tugged off Geralt’s shirt hungrily, now aiming for his trousers.

“Slow down,” Geralt says between frantic kisses. “I have a better idea.”

With that, he places one last kiss on Jaskier’s lips before pulling away, which elicits a displeased whine. Geralt ignores Jaskier’s attempt at chasing for his kiss and moves off the bed. He puts both arms behind Jaskier’s back and knees, and picks him up in one swift motion.

“Oh!” Jaskier hugs Geralt’s neck tightly. “Well, that was rude. Let me down!”

Geralt snorts and carefully sets Jaskier down at the end of the bed, leaving him perched by the edge. Raising his eyebrows, he answers, “you won’t think I’m rude in a minute.”

It takes a moment to arrange the mountain of pillows behind Jaskier’s back so he can recline comfortably.

“Alright?” Geralt asks, adding an extra pillow under Jaskier’s lower back before kneeling before him. A thick rug is tucked into the end of the bed, cushioning Geralt’s knees from the hardwood floor.

“Right,” Jaskier answers skeptically, holding his round belly. Under his sweet scent, there’s a hint of nerves. “You are not going to fuck me right here, are you?”

“Hmm.” Geralt begins unlacing Jaskier’s collar, opening it low, exposing his chest and pert nipples. He gives one of them a little squeeze and feels for Jaskier’s surprised gasp. “Another day, perhaps.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never had an Alpha use their mouth on you.”

Geralt hums, content, as he pulls up the hem of Jaskier’s sleeping gown to show the full expanse of his legs, the skin of his thighs pale and unblemished. He keeps the fabric pooled near Jaskier’s smalls, now soaked with slick.

“Well…”

The hesitation in Jaskier’s voice draws Geralt’s attention. He snaps his gaze back to Jaskier’s face, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

Geralt blinks. “No? Really?”

Jaskier bites his lips. “Really.”

“You were married. You are with child.” Geralt huffs. “What about your husband?”

“He was not the adventurous type.”

As if an act as simple as using one’s mouth counts as adventurous. A pang of unnamed annoyance hits Geralt.

“And before? All your lovers?”

Geralt frowns at the memory of all Jaskier’s dalliances—all alphas with considerable build, and even bigger egos. He never liked any of them, and now he has more reasons not to.

“You know I’ve only been with Alphas,” Jaskier answers, “and they…well, they tend to enjoy one thing.”

Geralt would be offended if he wasn’t too familiar with how Alphas treat their Omegas, thinking their mate is either made for their own pleasure or simply a vessel for bearing pups. He soothes Jaskier by massaging his knee gently.

“There are more enjoyable things than popping a knot,” Geralt reassures. “I pity them for missing out. They all should have spoiled you when they had the chance.”

Because Jaskier deserves to be spoiled, with an Alpha on his knees, lavishing him with selfless attention, worshipped for the wonders of his body.

The lack of it is such an unfairness. It must be corrected immediately.

So Geralt gets to work.

He tugs at Jaskier’s smalls, looking up through his lashes as the doubt in Jaskier’s eyes morphs into anticipation. Jaskier helps him, peeling off the soaked thing and throwing it aside. His cocklet is perking up already, his hole dripping with slick, his scent overwhelming. Geralt has to pause just to keep himself from reeling.

“Like what you are seeing?” Jaskier smiles, his fingers threading into the hair at Geralt’s nape.

“Hmm.” Geralt’s voice breaks, deep and hoarse. “Like it more when my tongue is inside you.”

With Geralt kneeling on the rug, there’s a height difference between them. Luckily, Jaskier meets him halfway so they sink into another deep, filthy kiss. The moans against Geralt’s lips are heavenly, making his cock swell in his trousers.

Geralt eases Jaskier back onto the soft pillows, his mouth trailing down. He laps at the sensitive spot over Jaskier’s pulse point, his palm cupping Jaskier’s chest, his thumb running small circles there.

“Are you…” Geralt breathes in the subtle milky scent at Jaskier’s neck, his Alpha singing with the satisfaction of an Omega bred full. “Are you with milk yet?”

His callused fingers play with Jaskier’s chest hair, brushing across his nipple, raising goosebumps on the sensitive skin there.

“Not yet.” Jaskier clutches tightly at Geralt’s hair. “Soon, the healer told me. Very soon.”

“Hmm. Tell me when you are.” Geralt massages Jaskier’s chest, feeling the swell of it in his hand, small but firm. Jaskier is responsive to his touch like this, his back arching to let Geralt bury his face lower. He obliges, mouth traveling down to tease the other nipple, not wanting to neglect either of them. “We shall do this again. Differently.”

A shiver runs down Jaskier’s spine as Geralt’s tongue moves away from his nipple, his kisses landing on top of Jaskier’s round belly.

“Geralt,” Jaskier exhales.

Jaskier is creating life, an unbidden thought intrudes the moment. Geralt can never do this. He can never put a pup in Jaskier, not like other Alphas.

All he has is now.

“Jaskier,” he answers, cradling Jaskier’s belly, meeting his eyes. “You are beautiful.”

“Geralt…”

“More beautiful than I deserve.”

Lips parted, hair mussed, Jaskier is delectable. Geralt moves closer, his chest bumping against the edge of the mattress. He holds eye contact with Jaskier while nuzzling his round belly, his mouth trailing down until the tangled fabric of Jaskier’s nightgown gets in the way.

“You should see yourself.” Jaskier’s whisper shudders. “Kneeling between my legs… an Alpha, offering yourself up. Tell me, how do I deserve you?”

“I’m all yours,” Geralt promises.

He turns to kiss Jaskier’s knee, and then all the way up his inner thigh, lingering at a small birthmark there. Jaskier’s strong muscles are softened because of the pregnancy, and it’s a nice place to sink his teeth in, so he does. The gentle bite gets him another broken gasp.

“Ah—” Jaskier’s arms stretch behind himself, his legs lifted off the ground. With the momentum, Geralt hikes up both of Jaskier’s legs over his shoulders, letting the weight settle himself. “Geralt, you are going to kill me like this.”

Geralt chuckles. “I haven’t even begun.”

Jaskier’s hole is gushing slick, staining the bedsheet beneath him, and Geralt finally buries his face there, giving the fluttering muscles an open-mouthed kiss before adding his tongue.

“Oh…I—Geralt! That’s too…”

The muscles in Jaskier’s legs tighten, his breaths coming out wrecked and desperate. Geralt relents, for now, running a hand up and down Jaskier’s side. “Too much?” he asks.

All the answer he gets is a small nod. Jaskier’s eyes are wide and hazy, his expression absent.

“Alright.” Geralt tastes the sweetness of Jaskier on his lips. “I got you.”

He then begins with a few kisses on Jaskier’s cocklet, easing him into the sensation before taking him all in. With a few sucks, Jaskier’s whimpers go from subdued to high-pitched. There’s a tug at Geralt’s hair when Jaskier pulls with his fingers.

“Oh, you are right.” Jaskier laughs. “I have been missing out.”

“Hmm.”

Gently, Geralt latches onto Jaskier’s hole, teasing the folds at first, spreading his slick with the movement of his tongue. He holds onto Jaskier’s thighs securely so they don’t slip, and so he can feel every tremble going down to Jaskier’s toes.

Jaskier sings beautifully as Geralt works with single-minded focus, keeping his inexperienced Omega writhing with pleasure. The shock that seems to overwhelm Jaskier in the beginning quiets, until impatience grows in those whimpers.

“Geralt… Fuck, you are so good. So good to me.”

His tongue drives in, hitting the particularly sensitive spot.

“Oh, Geralt!” Jaskier keens, his fingers spasming against Geralt’s neck. “I’m going to come like this.”

Geralt only hums, the timbre of his voice reverberating against Jaskier. He strokes Jaskier’s cocklet as his tongue continues to work, speeding up, spreading the tight, swollen muscles of Jaskier’s hole.

It’s heady, having Jaskier above him, head thrown back, overcome with pleasure.

“Geralt, I’m…”

Jaskier doesn’t get to finish the sentence before coming around Geralt’s tongue, his body held taut, his slick gushing freely.

“Oh, fuck. I…I’ve never known…” Another whimper interrupts Jaskier. His hole flutters as if trying to trap Geralt there, so he stays gladly, easing Jaskier through the climax.

But he doesn’t pull away.

“Geralt?” Jaskier says weakly, his voice ruined. “Geralt, what are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Geralt doubles down his effort when Jaskier is the most oversensitive. His hole trembles against Geralt’s lips, soaked from the last orgasm.

“But I only just—” Jaskier’s moan is desperate. “I’ve only just come, but it’s…Geralt, it’s happening agai—ah.”

“Good,” Geralt answers in the briefest moment when he pulls away.

He keeps his hand around Jaskier’s legs this time, soothing him, reassuring him. Jaskier must know he’s in safe hands because he relaxes in time, his weight dropping back onto the pillows, and lets himself be washed over by the intensity of another climax.

“Oh, fuck…”

When Jaskier comes again, his cocklet spurts weakly without being touched. A rush of pride rises in Geralt’s chest. Heat gathers in his lower stomach, his trousers growing unreasonably tight, but he’s busy making sure his Omega is thoroughly taken care of.

Jaskier’s thighs are shaking. His whole body is shaking.

Geralt pulls away, easing Jaskier’s legs off of his shoulders, wiping the slick on his chin carelessly on a sleeve.

And Jaskier… Oh, Jaskier is a sight.

His head is lolling to one side, his brows covered in sweat, his cheeks dusted with a pink blush. His chest heaves violently, now fully exposed with his shirt pooling around his elbows.

“Hey,” Geralt murmurs. “It’s alright.”

Jaskier’s eyes are dark, fixed on Geralt’s face, glistening in the candlelight. “Mmph,” he answers intelligently.

Geralt pushes himself up and sits next to Jaskier. When he tries to carry Jaskier again, it’s more of a clumsy push and pull, but Jaskier doesn’t seem to mind. They end up in the middle of the bed, with Jaskier lying on his side and curled around his pregnant belly, his neck supported by a pillow.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asks, now slightly concerned. He reaches behind Jaskier’s lower back and massages away the potential soreness there. A tear trails down the corner of Jaskier’s eyes but there’s no sadness. “Oh, Jask. Don’t cry.”

“Not crying.” Jaskier sniffs. “You just changed my view of the world, is all.”

Geralt rumbles a quiet laugh.

“That good, huh?”

“And we haven’t even taken care of you yet.” When Jaskier tries to reach for Geralt’s trousers, his hand is unsteady.

“Hey, don’t you worry.” Geralt places Jaskier’s hand back on his belly and unfastens his trousers himself and reaches down. “Just… stay here. Let me look at you.”

Jaskier watches as Geralt works through his own pleasure, his blue eyes full of wonder. It doesn’t take long, with the memory of Jaskier coming apart on his mouth still fresh in his mind.

Geralt touches his lips with the other hand, and Jaskier’s breath hitches. The Omega lurches forward and kisses Geralt, chasing the taste of himself on Geralt’s tongue.

Geralt’s world goes blank when Jaskier bites down on his lower lip, just hard enough to send him over the edge. Geralt comes with a grunt, smiling against Jaskier’s soft kisses.

He wipes himself clean quickly and lies down again, nuzzling in the crook of Jaskier’s neck.

“You bastard,” Geralt whispers.

“It’s payback.”

Jaskier lets out a string of giggles. Their limbs tangle around Jaskier’s belly protectively. The scent of sex and lust dissipates, replaced by sated contentment.

“Should have known better than to bite you.” Geralt lets out an exhale, placing his palm just below Jaskier’s navel. “You haven’t answered me. Are you alright?”

“Hmm?” Jaskier blinks. “Of course. More than.”

“The baby?”

“Sleeping. Not giving me trouble for once.” Jaskier bites his lips before continuing. “I meant it, when I said you changed my world. It was a very… selfless thing you did.”

Geralt frowns. “If this counts as selfless, your husband did not perform his husbandly duties well.”

“Well, it’s true. He was quite inadequate in many ways.” Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Especially when it comes to matters of our marital bed.”

“Is that why you are widowed?” Geralt hazards a guess, and Jaskier only makes the most offended noise.

“Such a cruel accusation, witcher. You believe I’d leave my child fatherless?”

“Who said he was the father?”

Jaskier splutters, his finger pointing at Geralt’s nose. “You! Stop being so smart!”

Geralt laughs.

“Wouldn’t dare accuse you of anything. I will only aim to be adequate in your bed. Can’t leave a pregnant Omega wanting, especially now that your standards have been raised. Who knows what trouble you will get yourself into just for another… serviceable Alpha?”

The blush reappears on Jaskier’s face.

“Guess you’ll have to stay. Wait on me hand and foot, satisfy my every whim. For me and my little one.”

The smugness on Jaskier’s face is equal parts adorable and exasperating, so Geralt decides on kissing it away. Jaskier moans lazily, melting into Geralt’s arms.

“Guess I will,” Geralt says, gathering his Omega close. “For you two, I will stay.”

#geraskier #geraskier fic #pwp #inexperienced jaskier #first time oral sex #pregnant jaskier #mpreg #alpha beta omega #alpha geralt #omega jaskier #yes i'm starting yet another mpreg au #be the change in the pregnancy kind tag you want to see and such

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hegorys · 1 year

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Geraskier Idea Fica A/B/O

Okay, I can't sleep with this idea in my head so I posted it here after being gone for months, hahahahaha

a universe with alpha/beta/omega dynamics where Geralt has a twin brother, both become witchers who mutate twice, both are alpha, Geralt remains the serious grumpy yet protective and possessive character, Geralt's twin, Gerard, has a better and more accessible humor, thinks about Geralt being the same from the series on Netflix and Gerard being the Geralt from the games, they walk the path together, sometimes separately, but both start to follow the path together when they find Jaskier in Posada.

Dandelion falls in love with the two, in this universe the male omegas are intersex, they are born with both male and female genitals, but the penis is not much, something like a micro penis, he is a size queen and will catch these two wolves whites.

Geralt and Gerard never felt anything sexual between them, but that changes after they meet the omega Jaskier, Gerad is versatile, Geralt is a top and Jaskier is a bottom.

at some point when Gerard ties omega Jaskier in the knot, Geralt will use Jaskier's natural lube to open up Gerard's ass and fuck him while still attached by the knot to Jaskier, pretty rough and make him moan like a bitch and see stars when Geralt knots your ass.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha beta omega #witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic Idea #geralt de rivia #jaskier dandelion

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mothpiercings · 1 year

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would anyone wanna beta a new fic im writing?

#geraskier #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #beta #looking for beta readers #looking for a beta reader

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hold-me-witcher · 1 year

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Anyone want to beta a Geraskier T rated oneshot for me? Less than 2k words. Pretty please?

#the witcher #netflix the witcher #twn #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #witcher fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #beta reader #beta needed #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfiction

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geralthurtssopretty · 1 year

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Kaer Meow-rons

Warnings: None Rating: E

Summary:

Jaskier is a stressed PhD student with a pile of student papers to mark, when drunk he decides that what he really needs is to play with some kittens. After a quick google search, he comes across 'Kaer Meow-rons' and immediately books a time slot the next day.

Here on Ao3

A gift for the lovely @karolincki as part of a Secret Santa <3 Under cut are some image refs for character clothes, look after reading.

So here is Sim Geralt wearing something close to what he wears in the fic, as the clothing is female CC it doesn’t look good on men really so we have both male and female Geralt modelling it for us

What a pretty boy and girl they are!!!

#My writing #My fic #the witcher #geralt/jaskier #alpha/omega #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #modern au

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vampiredaydream · 1 year

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My first piece for The Witcher, something short and sweet.

Description:

Geralt isn’t quite prepared when people start noticing his mating bite.

Tags:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Mating Bites, Alpha Jaskier | Dandelion, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia

Word Count:

2,007

Language:

English

#the witcher #jaskier x geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #alpha beta omega

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eggcompany · 21 days

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Maybe It's All 50/50 Part 2

“Mr. Pankratz you’ve just had a very serious surgery. You need assistance. You can get fourteen hours a week. Two hours everyday.” The woman said as she sat beside the hospital bed. She kept coming to see him, to try and get him to acknowledge what had happened.

It had been four days and Jaskier had still refused everything. Food, visitors, assistance, anything.

“I don’t want anyone in my home. Go away.” Jaskier growled out, and kept his eyes on the window beside the bed. It was dim out, the sky rolling with clouds so dark it turned the day to night. He imagined the clouds could come through the unopening windows to come swallow him whole.

He was barren now. The only thing he’d ever wanted, ripped from his reach. The only thing he ever truly wanted from life, stripped away before it was vindicated.

A disease he’d had since birth, apparently. Something from his mother. It had all been spoiled inside of him, killing him from his gentlest places. “ Radical ” surgery. “Radical” was something he never wanted to hear again. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be- be more broken than he already was. He didn’t want to be considered… empty.

He wanted to just disappear. He didn’t wanna even exist. He’d never find a mate. Never find joy of puppies in life. This was his final straw. His loving heart, his soul even, it felt broken, the light blown out, the curtains pulled.

~-~-~-~

Days later, being told he would heal the rest of the way at home, a trip back to his apartment, and slamming the door before the nurse could help him to bed, he was home.

A knock on the door woke Jaskier up from where he was laying in bed. A knock at the door stirred Jaskier from where he’d resigned himself to stay.

“Go away.” He yelled at the door, his voice cracking through his throat like a plank of wood snapping. Heat of anger didn’t even well up in him anymore. He was just… too tired. He was too tired to be.

“Jaskier, come open this door.” He heard in the most familiar voice. A voice that was low and growling, one that shook him down to his heart. He had heard Yennefer’s quiet reassurance and her yelling demands, Valdo’s teasing edged with concern, case workers' dull attempts at coaxing. He’d yet to hear the rolling voice that had him on his trembling legs for the first time in so long.

Geralt.

Geralt who’d brought him to the hospital in the first place, who’d soothed his aches so many times before, who’d always been there with one little phone call.

“Geralt please go away. I-I-I can’t be seen. I’m too… it’s so awful.” Jaskier answered even as he was opening the door and allowing the alpha to see him. Geralt pushed past him, uncaring whether or not Jaskier was ‘indecent’ or whatever he thought. He wanted to see the omega, he wanted to lick his wounds, fluff his nest, feed him well, and- Geralt let his face scrunch up. He’d been feeling ‘moody’ and he just wanted to find his omega, fix him, make him happy, and take a nap. God a nap…

Jaskier’s own eyes fluttered as Geralt made his way through the mess of a home. That scent. Jaskier chased it with his nose. He caught that scent that always just got away from him. That real scent of the alpha. The one that was dampened by coats of neutralizers. The one that he’d gulped down he was now starving for more of. Something sweet yet smokey like cookies and campfire smoke…. Warm honey and ash. He followed mindlessly behind Geralt as he busied himself with several large bags he’d brought.

“Jask, I'm gonna check you out, put you in a chair, and then I’m gonna start cleaning. When I'm done with the bed, if you wanna go back to bed that’s fine. But I’m gonna look you over, I’m gonna clean, and I’m gonna make you eat. Understand that?” Geralt announced and set his bags on the kitchen counter. He opened a few just to not have to look at the omega before he was done speaking. Jaskier would look at him with those eyes and he’d be at those blue eyes’ mercy.

However it was a crack to Jaskier’s system. He’d been so numb, too deep in his depression to even register that there could ever possibly be a way out. It’d been too dark for too long. The tears were like a flood down his face as he looked around. His stupid god damn apartment was such a fucking disaster and he couldn’t even remeber the last time he’d changed his clothes or brushed his teeth.

“Can- can you help me Geralt? It’s horrible ” Jaskier asked, sobbing into his hands that came to cover his face in shame. He felt like less than a poor excuse for an omega. He couldn’t even keep house anymore.

But those worries were rushing out with his tears as soon as Geralt had him wrapped in his arms. Big warm arms holding Jaskier together as he fell apart. Geralt hugged the other man as tightly as he let himself given he was still healing. He held him close, making sure to pull his hips away from rubbing against the stitches that stretched across the omega’s belly.

“It’s alright” Geralt said into the greasy, sour smelling mop of hair on Jaskier’s head. He’d seen far worse, greasy hair and surgery yuck was nowhere near enough to turn him away.

“I-I need to get clean. I smell awful, I need the house to not stink of- of failure.” Jaskier begged quietly into the shoulder he buried his face into. His hands laid open against Geralt’s warm shoulder blades, keeping the other man near. He may fall to pieces if Geralt pulled back too soon.

But the alpha wasn’t going anywhere. He held up most of Jaskier’s weight. He wasn’t wearing his thick scratchy uniform, solid body offered up under a soft thin cotton t-shirt and plain worn in black jeans. Jaskier was lavishing in it too, feeling the warmth and ripple of his muscles, sniffing him without shame without a dash of neutralizer to be seen. Each nuzzling sniff breathing new air into the omega’s lungs.

“I’m gonna check you out and then we can cover your stitches with special tape and I can put you in the bath. By the time you get out the bedroom will be better. Deal?” Geralt offered and pulled back to look at Jaskier’s face.

He was gross, dirty and yucky, and so broken. Rubbed raw and stripped of his flourishes.

So Jaskier. So… Geralt wasn’t good with words but whatever the word was for the feeling he got taking care of this omega, Jaskier was very “that”. Whatever that hungry kind of warm feeling deep in his chest was, Jaskier was it. Whatever that feeling that he wanted to be near and never leave, that he wanted to burrow deep and never leave again was, Jaskier was that.

“Am I a failure?” Jaskier asked blue eyes begging and desperately looking up at Geralt like the answer would kill him either way. Like anything the alpha said would send him crashing through the floors. Geralt knew nothing he could say would ever turn that look into a better gaze. It was a death sentence no matter the words.

“You were sick, Jaskier. I’ve never thought you were a bad omega. You’re better now, a healthy omega is a good omega. No matter what.” Geralt said softly and Jaskier’s crying renewed, his arms hugging around Geralt tightly, his face buried in the warm smelling part of Geralt's neck, sobs wracking through his body.

He held on tightly, the bit of strength left in his body going toward holding onto the only anchor he’d had in so long. He let his sobs work their way out of his system, the pity finally getting let out, until his mouth pulled itself into a sad smile, glad his friend was there to put him back together. Geralt, stone cold nurse Geralt, putting him together like a bear putting a porcelain doll back together.

“Oh thank you Geralt. Thank you dear. I-I-I need someone now, I don’t wanna be alone.” Jaskier admitted into Geralt’s shoulder as he shook with the last of his sobs. Geralt rubbed up and down his back, hand big and warm and reassuring as Jaskier’s own hands loosened their hold.

“I’ll be here Jask. I’ll be here.” Geralt said and just held the omega. His friend. His… his something. His omega, his mind kept pushing. Geralt let himself indulge, called Jaskier his omega in his own mind was perfectly fine.

“Geralt I-I-I, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” Jaskier whispered and wiped his face across the warm cotton shirt that held him up.

Geralt simply held him and rubbed his back, wanting nothing more than to take all the pain away, make it all better. Maybe it was the feeling he kept having in his chest but he felt rather… protective. Angry at the world for ever even picking at his omega.

“You’re still a good omega. Precious, special, soft, beautiful, omega” Geralt grumbled, his heart behind the words. He’d always felt that way about Jaskier. He was soft and pretty and strong and sang such pretty songs

Jaskier hiccupped and whined. He shook his head. He couldn’t let Geralt just lie like that even if the alpha’s grumblings did make his heart feel all sparky.

“I’m a shell. I’m just parts.” Jaskier said, sadness so heavy it made the statement barely audible. Geralt had to think about it for a minute before he pulled Jaskier away from himself so they were eye to eye. It hurt him to think his omega thought of himself in such a… hateful way. If the omega thought that what would he think of Geralt himself, his lacking parts.

“Jaskier, you’re a whole, full, perfect omega. I know you’re having a very, very, hard time right now. I know you’re hurting. I’m right here. We just need to get your feet back under you. Alright? One step at a time.” Geralt explained and kept his eyes on Jaskier’s watery blue ones, trying to get the message into his head. Jaskier pushed his tears away with the backs of his hands, sniffled once before closing his eyes to breathe. He took a minute just to take a few calming breaths before giving a resolute nod.

“Just… I’ve not been keeping up with myself. Forgive me.” Jaskier said and shyly walked his way back to his bed. It was a wreck of sheets, blankets, gauze, tissues, and candy wrappers. It smelled horribly, to say the least. But Jaskier had grown used to it and Geralt’s brain blocked out these kinds of smells but now.

“Do you have a sweet tooth? I hear ice cream cures all.” Geralt asked as he started a mental list of things to clean first. He preened a bit internally at the fact he’d brought a bag of powdered doughnuts, omegas like sweets when they’re hurt. And Jaskier loves cheap doughnuts. Loves anything tooth-rotting.

“I wanna eat butter in sugar. Isn’t that a fucking travesty?” Jaskier lamented and laid down on the edge of his bed, flinching and turning to his side when he stretched his stomach too much. He made a pained face before rolling back onto his back, more carefully this time. He pushed his hoodie up to his chest, trying to be a bit modest even though it was obvious that Geralt needed him naked to get a bath.

Geralt shook his head and lifted up Jaskier’s oversized hoodie, pulling it all the way off along with his stained shirt underneath. He looked down and just pulled Jaskier’s plain grey panties off while he was at it.

Geralt knelt down beside Jaskier’s belly to look at his stitches.

“You want oil and glucose. It’s not strange. It’s very normal. It’s why pregnant or sick omegas crave funnel cakes. And fried Oreos. After your bath I’ll fix you something to sate it.” Geralt explained as he carefully ran a hand down Jaskier’s sides, looking for anything off. He was careful as he touched the skin nearest the dark threads.

“Funnel cakes~” Jaskier moaned and whined at the fact he didn’t have any. He looked at Geralt with those eyes. Big, blue, and begging. Like the alpha should have had some for him right then. Geralt shook his head with a small smile as he stood up to check the other side better, where the incision had hooked a bit so the stitches were different.

“Funnel cakes and ice cream and ice cream sandwiches and whiskey.” Jaskier listed off and touched his belly. He was starving and all of that thrown on a plate in front of him would simply be orgasmic at the moment.

“You don’t drink whiskey.” Geralt recalled as he inspected the stitches in total, each dash in the curved line carved under the omega’s bellybutton. He thought back to the few times he’d been drinking with their friends, at the teasing they all gave Jaskier over his drinks. Jaskier didn’t drink any ‘yucky’ alcohol. He liked vanilla vodka and big pink drinks that had so much alcohol it could put down a horse.

Jaskier sighed, defeated in his own tastes.

“But it would feel so good to drink it.” He said and thought about the burning liquid making his belly warm and his head quiet, letting him find dreamless sleep. Geralt finished looking him over, smiling down at him.

“You’d hate it.” he said before offering a hand to help him to the bathroom.

~-~-~-~-~

“Oh Geralt, I'm filthy. I’m so sorry.” Jaskier apologized as his eyes started to tear up again. He’d washed his face with a clean cloth at the sink as Geralt filled the tub but still it was… He felt such shame as the clear clean water turned a dirty yellowed hue. He started to cry as the clean soapy washcloth rubbed across his back.

“Hm” Geralt grunted as he continued to clean off the layers of sweat and dirt from Jaskier’s skin. It wasn’t much to be sad about. He needed a scrub is all. And the double layers of the tape would keep his stitches nice and dry, those had just been wiped down carefully once Jaskier’s face had been washed.

“I’m so sorry. This is so above your pay grade.” Jaskier said and pushed his tears away. He was feeling better. He was feeling so much better as the soapy cloth refreshed and renewed him. Geralt’s strong hands were a steady path, one Jaskier felt so much more safe standing on alongside the alpha. He just needed to get it all washed off him, cried out of him, and filled up with better things like funnel cakes and ice cream.

“Not getting paid” Geralt mumbled and lifted Jaskier’s arm to wash his pit and side. Jaskier sniffled and used his other hand to wipe his tears. Geralt reached across him to clean the other side and work on his neck and collar.

“What?” He asked, confused. He was just confused about what Geralt had mumbled, too focused on the luxurious feeling of his pits being clean.

“I’m here as your friend, not a nurse.” Geralt explained quietly and pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. The affectionate gesture was… Jaskier sat, head tilted toward the warm lips that had just pressed into his temple, for a moment processing before his bottom lip trembled and he shouted.

“You’re an asshole.” Jaskier shouted loudly and turned to hug his friend. Jaskier felt something in his chest crack open and the most awful feeling seeped out but it also felt… euphoric in a way.

He sobbed and sobbed and let out the most terrible sounds. Sounds that made Geralt hold onto him tighter. Sounds that were meant for only those closest, sounds Geralt had heard so many times when he worked in the ER. Sounds that came clawing out of omegas in a way that had any alpha desperate to make stop. Sounds mother’s made when the puppies didn’t make it, Geralt’s head finally pinpointed. That sound. That cry nearly squawking.

And Jaskier was okay with Geralt hearing his heart ache. Which only made Geralt want to hold him closer, crawl into the bath, crawl under his skin, fix everything and anything no matter what. It made him nuzzle into Jaskier’s neck, letting his lips settle on Jaskier’s soft scent gland.

Jaskier let it all out, knowing Geralt could handle it all. Knowing Geralt wanted to handle it all. Wanting to work it all out of his system to his alpha. His alpha. His alpha who was the best ever who still liked him even if he couldn’t have pups, even if he wasn’t whole.

“I know.” Is all Geralt said, repeating it until Jaskier was hanging limp, body and mind too exhausted to do anything more. Till Geralt was okay to let him go, till he himself felt the last of his own heartache dissipate.

He gently laid the omega back in the tub, rolling a washcloth to put behind his neck and head to keep it from the cold tile. He drained the water, watching it go down as he folded a towel for himself and put it under his own knees. He refilled the water, warm and clean and took his time washing his omega.

It was almost meditative. Jaskier soft skin, coarse leg hair, callused hands, few mismatch scars spattered on elbows and knees and one on his ankle. Geralt took his time refilling the water once more before he was just using his hand to run the warm water across the omega’s chest and shoulders. He enjoyed Jaskier’s sleeping face and as much as it pained him he woke him up to wash his hair.

“Peachy” Geralt said after taking a long sniff of the shampoo bottle. Jaskier smiled and nodded, reaching for it but Geralt was already dumping some into his hand. The younger man moaned and sighed in pleasure as Geralt worked the soap into a foamy mess on his head, strong fingers massaging along the way. And the shower head rinsing it all away felt amazing too, a bit less warm but it was refreshing.

Jaskier smiled at Geralt’s soaked front.

“That’s a gaudy look, and I thought you a modest man.” Jaskier teased and ran his finger down the front of Geralt’s shirt, down the lines of abs that showed through the darkened fabric.

“Says the nudist” Geralt added as he bent down to dry off Jaskier who burst out in laughter. The sound breaking the heavy feeling that had hung in the air. Geralt smiled and got the omega nice and dry before throwing another fluffy towel around his shoulders.

Jaskier had a soft look on his face, something between contentment and adoration, as he got dressed. Geralt was careful to pull on a pair of fresh clean underwear, leaving them low on Jaskier’s hips before the omega adjusted them himself. He had a hoodie pulled over his head, slipping his arms through, it had been one of the few things he never nested with since it was too static-y, so it was nice and clean. He was sat on the couch before Geralt slipped a pair of plain black fuzzy socks onto his feet, kneeling in front of him in a way that had Jaskier smiling.

He was handed the TV remote, covered with a blanket over his lap, and another kiss was pressed into his forehead before Geralt was standing back up to change into another shirt he had packed away in his bags. There was some rustling as Jaskier looked through the new shows on one of the streaming services he got off Yennefer.

“I’ll be right here, I brought a shirt of mine if you want but you don’t-” Geralt began to offer and stepped so Jaskier wouldn’t have to turn as much, but was cut off by a growl.

“Give it to me. Now.” Jaskier demanded and yanked his own hoodie off his body to wrestle the nice sleep-scented shirt onto his still damp body. It smelled amazing and as he cuddled under the blanket, made him drift back off to sleep. The clanging and noises coming from the tiny kitchen didn’t disturb him but rather made him feel calmer, safer, knowing his alpha was right there.

Soon Jaskier had a stack of pancakes, crafted from a box but still exactly what he needed, doused in butter on a plate in front of him. It was worth being awake for. The soft, perfectly cooked batter was seasoned with something that didn’t come from a box. Geralt had made them better just for Jaskier. Who gives a shit if it was medication or vitamins, it was warm and buttery and hot and filled Jaskier’s stomach.

He moaned with each bite and Geralt was dizzy with joy as he brought more and more to the omega. The alpha felt that feeling deep in his gut. Something that was warm and made him wanna bare his teeth and touch the omega. He sat next to Jaskier, rubbing his knee, getting a wet paper towel to wipe his hands, wipe his mouth, making sure each time the omega was done there was another stack for him.

It made him feel that warm feeling each time Jaskier smiled and thanked him. It made him wanna get down on his knees for the omega when he offered Jaskier his favorite drink, a diet pepsi, and the omega clapped and drank one right away. The giddy way he clapped and smiled made Geralt smile.

He was sitting on the end of the couch waiting to take the plate from Jaskier, he’d already said he was done but there was just one bite left and he wanted Jaskier to eat it. A smile was gracing the edges of his lips, fog filling his head, heart doing that weird warm fluttery thing.

“You’re an angel, Geralt, a fucking angel. I’m a wreck and you come here and and-” Jaskier started and handed the plate over to Geralt who took it and kept his eyes on Jaskier because there was… a slip.

“I love you” It didn’t feel like either of them had said it. It was as if they both had said it or it had appeared in the space between them through neither of their faults. It could have fallen from Geralt’s alpha drunk lips as he watched the omega become comfortable and warm under his care. It could have tailed off Jaskier’s grateful ramblings as his mind fluttered with love for the alpha.

“Gera-”

“Jask-”

“You first alpha, I’m putting that one on you.” Jaskier answered with a smile, teasing. Geralt shook his head trying to get his thoughts to line up but they kept floating away in a mist of happy ‘mega, fed ‘mega, comfy ‘mega . He bit the inside of his lip and looked down before catching the omega’s eyes again.

“Are you…okay?” Geralt asked and looked at the omega snuggled on the couch in his t-shirt, mouth smeared with food he made, eyes full of love as he stared right back. The smell coming from him was better, worlds better.

“I am so much better now because of you Geralt. I’m still… sad of course. But with you I feel better. I feel like I��m human again. I don’t want to slam the door on you and curl back into my pit of a nest. I feel better cause you’re here. You’re always here just when I need you. ” Jaskier said with a smile. He did feel better. His alpha still liked him. He felt like he was… he didn’t need to just give up. Geralt was so special. He had that way of just bulldozing his way past everything else and making things better.

“Good, I feel... Happy doing things for you that I don’t do for other omega’s. Never got to bathe anyone like that before. I want to do it again. Do everything for you again. I like seeing you happy.” Geralt grumbled out and fidgeted with the plate in his hand. Jaskier grinned and blushed.

“Then it’s settled. We both said it first.” Jaskier joked and Geralt grinned, shiny teeth on display. Jaskier grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him to be face to face.

“That means a kiss, Mister Rivia” He said before pressing a short chaste kiss on Geralt’s lips which was repeated again, when Geralt got his wits back to him. Jaskier smiled and they let their forehead rest together for a moment, just breathing in each other. Jaskier patted his cheek and rubbed their noses together before Geralt stood back up.

Geralt nodded. He turned and started doing the dishes before pacing, thinking if he should just do what he wanted or if he should ask Jaskier when Jaskier himself piped up from the couch.

“Are you one of those service alpha’s who’s gonna wanna suck me off if I let you vacuum?” Jaskier asked as he finished wiping his hands with a dry paper towel after the wet one. Geralt let out a bark of a laugh and went to get the trash bags from his bag and the laundry hamper.

“Yep.” The alpha replied and began taking the full trash away.

“Vacuum away, my ray of sunlight, for I am going to take a nap so good I’ll be briefly dead.” Jaskier announced and laid down on the couch, a cheesy romance reality show droning on in the background.

Geralt ended not sucking him off but rather making a nice comfy nest, and laying with him kissing him till they were both half asleep and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Maybe it is all 50/50, maybe even with pieces missing, the picture can still be seen.

<-Last Chapter

#egg_company #fanfic #smut tag #fanfiction #alpha/beta/omega au #jaskier #geraskier fanfic #geraskier smut #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rvia #the witcher fanfic #bottom jaskier #omega jaskier #omega x alpha #alpha geralt #omegaverse fic #omegaverse

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kayte-overmoon · 11 months

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Snippet of part one of Daisy Chain, my Geraskier ABO pregnancy fic. 👀

ABO? mpreg? Feral Geralt? Fast Burn to Domesticity? What more could you want?

Part two dropping next week!

#Geraskier #daisy chain #fanfic #the witcher #kayte overmoon #jaskier #geralt #ABO #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #fic update

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bambirex · 9 months

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It's A Game We Play

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe-modern setting

Rating: teen and up audiences

Word count: 2,390 words

Chapters: 1/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Author's notes: It's time for some crack!!!!! What do you get when you have canonically slutty Jaskier, and add Bambi being a multishipper who loves chaos? That's right, you get a Mamma Mia!AU !! I'm planning on using the plot of the first movie pretty loosely. As in, I will probably not do scene-to -scene recreations, but take advantage of the general idea and the setting!

Feedback is super appreciated!!! Let's get the party started!

Read on Ao3

“I can’t believe this day has come.”

“Papa, it’s not my wedding yet. I’m just trying on dresses, remember?”

“Still,” Jaskier smiled, blinking against the sentimental tears in his eyes, “my child is getting married. She’s picking out her wedding dress, how am I supposed to cope with this?”

Amaryllis cooed and leaned up to kiss her father on the cheek. Jaskier immediately wound his arms around her, enveloping her in a crushing hug.

“You promised no crying until the ceremony,” Amaryllis reminded him. Jaskier chuckled against her hair.

“I’m failing, obviously.”

But who could blame him, Jaskier mused as Amaryllis finally managed to pull away. He let his daughter take his hand and lead him inside the saloon, her steps happy and prancing, so adorably enthusiastic. Amaryllis was his only child, his baby, his light in this world. Of course, he would become emotional (over and over again) over the fact she was soon to be a married woman. Amaryllis’s fiancée, well, soon-to-be-wife, Sara, was the sweetest thing. Jaskier loved and trusted her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. He always did: he was a parent, that was what he was supposed to do. His child was facing a huge milestone in her life. Jaskier was filled with fear, hope, and a tremendous amount of pride at the same time. He was just overflowing with emotions, and they manifested in constant weeping, apparently.

He decided to try and shut off the waterworks at least while they introduced themselves to the seller. She was a cheerful middle-aged lady named Kate, who heartily congratulated Amaryllis on her upcoming marriage, then she gave a sympathetic hug to Jaskier as well.

“It’s a huge thing, one of the biggest days in our lives,” Kate chirped as she led them further inside the saloon. “Therefore, it has to be perfect. Any ideas on your dream dress, dear?”

“Not sure,” Amaryllis admitted. She still held onto Jaskier’s hand as she looked over the numerous racks and shelves. “My fiancée will have a strapless dress, and it would be nice to match with her, but I think sleeves are more my style?”

“You should pick whatever you’d feel comfortable in,” Jaskier reminded her softly. “You will look beautiful in everything, anyway.”

Amaryllis gave him a bright smile and a squeeze to his hand before she followed Kate into the jungle of dresses. Jaskier raked his eyes around with a sigh. Fluffy dresses and sleek suits hanged everywhere from floor to ceiling, in every shape and every size. They all looked so pretty. Jaskier’s chest tightened for a second before he decided to look away and check on his daughter instead.

Amaryllis was an absolute dream to shop with. Instead of turning into the stereotypical “bridezilla”, she was calm and collected, listening intently to everything Kate told her. Jaskier was immensely proud of her. He also knew that if he were in this situation, he would probably break down five minutes in.

While Amaryllis disappeared inside the fitting room to try on a couple dresses, Kate approached Jaskier with a smile.

“Beautiful girl,” she told him earnestly. Jaskier grinned, proudly puffing his chest out.

“Thank you.”

“Yours, right? I can tell by the eyes. Same set of beautiful baby blues.”

“Ah, you’re so kind. Yes, she’s my daughter.”

“Are you planning a big wedding?”

“Not that big. More people on her fiancée’s side.”

Saying that out loud tasted bitter on Jaskier’s tongue. He wished he could give his daughter an epic ceremony, but unfortunately, he wasn’t on good terms with his family. His parents divorced while he was still a child, and he has only rarely seen his father after that. He’s always had a stormy relationship with his mother as well. She was a very strict, traditional woman, whose pride was greatly hurt when her husband left her. That was probably why she got so angry when Jaskier told her at the ripe age of twenty-one that he has gotten pregnant and had no clue from who. She wanted Jaskier to fulfill that idyllic family picture that she did not manage, and seeing her own child fail at it, too, caused her to cut ties with him. The only relative that Jaskier could count on was his aunt, the only person who has supported him after he ended up alone, pregnant, and scared out of his mind. Her death devastated Jaskier, especially because she didn’t get to see Amaryllis’s birth. She has left his beloved nephew a lovely gift, though, the Dandelion Inn. Jaskier has spent most of his childhood on the small island his aunt lived at, and he really enjoyed staying over at the Inn, even when he was an adult. It was a friendly, warm little motel that felt more like his home than his actual house. He has also met his two best friends there, who have helped him through many hardships.

Jaskier now lived on the island with his daughter and managed the Dandelion Inn. It was idyllic in many ways, and not very idyllic in other ways. Jaskier knew that an unbonded, mate-less Omega would always be the hot topic of every gossip, especially one that got pregnant so young. He has gotten better at handling the acidic insults, but he wished he could have protected his daughter against them, and he wished he could have provided her with the big, happy family that she deserved.

He quickly waved away the sad memories as Amaryllis exited the fitting room. Jaskier gasped and clutched a hand over his heart, willing himself not to tear up again. As expected, Amaryllis looked beautiful in her mermaid- style dress. Her smile shone brighter than the gemstones on the hem when she twirled around.

“My God, you look beautiful,” Jaskier whispered in awe. Amaryllis ducked her head with a shy grin.

“I like it. I think I’m gonna try the high-low dress, too.”

She tried on four more dresses, and Jaskier told her she looked gorgeous in every single one of them. Amaryllis groaned as she plopped down next to him on a pouf.

“You always say I look beautiful in everything, Papa.”

“But that’s the truth! No matter what you’ll pick, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.”

Kate disappeared to find some accessories to go with the dresses. Amaryllis waited until she was out of sight, then she turned to Jaskier with a look that indicated she was about to say or ask something potentially uncomfortable. Jaskier knew that look too well. It was the same, head ducked down, nose twitching, jaw slightly wobbling face she gave him when she told him she accidentally broke his acoustic guitar, and when she presented as an Omega and had to ask her father about the birds and the bees. Jaskier braced himself with a sigh, and a free cupcake that he retrieved from the tray next to him.

“I was thinking about checking out the suits, too,” Amaryllis started, choosing her words obviously carefully. “But then I was like, I’d rather have a dress. It’s traditional, and I know we’re both free spirits, but I think I’d like a really traditional wedding, you know? An Omega girl in a big fluffy dress, her Omega father weeping into his tissue in the front row…”

“Hey, I won’t cry in the front row,” Jaskier objected with a huff, “I’ll cry while walking you down the aisle.”

Amaryllis cleared her throat. She fiddled with the tulle on her dress. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence. Jaskier didn’t even dare to breathe.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked, scooting closer to her on the pouf. “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”

“Well,” Amaryllis squeaked, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes, “iwantmyotherparenttowalkmedowntheaisle.”

Jaskier blinked in utter confusion. Amaryllis turned an alarmingly bright red, which was only accentuated by her snow-white dress.

“What… what was that?”

“Papa.”

“You said it so fast I couldn’t make out a single word!”

“God,” Amaryllis sighed, grinding her teeth in embarrassment, “don’t be angry! Just… I… I said that I want my other father, or mother, I don’t know? To… to walk me down the aisle… you know, all traditional…”

Jaskier was very glad he was already sitting, otherwise he would have probably collapsed on the floor. He waited for Amaryllis to reveal it was just a joke. For several, uncomfortable moments, Amaryllis stared at Jaskier, chewing on her lip. Jaskier stared right back, his brain drawing a complete blank page.

“Honey…” Jaskier squeaked out, “you know exactly I don’t know who that is.”

“But, maybe there’s a chance we could find them?” Amaryllis asked hopefully. “I was thinking a lot about this, lately. I would be really happy if we managed to find out who it is, so they could be there, too. I don’t know… maybe you still have some phone numbers? A hunch? Anything? It’s just… it would be nice.”

Jaskier let out a deep sigh. It’s been literal years since Amaryllis has brought up this subject. With each passing year, as she has gotten older, it has gotten easier to explain: it was the worst when she was still a little child, not understanding why everyone had two parents while she only had her Papa. It was even worse with her overhearing all those nasty gossips about how Jaskier was such a lowlife Omega, sleeping with everyone and having bastard children. When she was a little older, Jaskier could give her a vague explanation on how her other parent left, and how they were unfortunately not coming back. Amaryllis was already a teenager when Jaskier eventually revealed the truth that he had absolutely no idea who the other parent was. He didn’t give her all the details about how he was definitely enjoying his youth. He was a pretty hedonistic young Omega who gladly shared his heats and non-heats with many, many… many people. He didn’t tell her about his short-lived, heartbreaking romances and everlasting loves that only lasted for about a week. She was a smart child, she managed to put the pieces together anyway.

So, Amaryllis stopped pushing for an answer a long time ago, accepting the explanation that Jaskier didn’t know. It felt like a bucket of icy water was poured straight over his head when she, twenty years old and ready to get married, brought this up again.

“Look,” Jaskier told her softly, reaching for her hand, “I know this is going to be your big day, and trust me, I would give my left arm to make sure everything could go exactly as you wanted, including a full set of parents if that’s what would make you happy, but unfortunately… I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Amaryllis squeezed his hand gently, “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. This isn’t your fault. I just… I guess I reminisced a little, and I daydreamed a little, and… when I imagine my big day… I see someone else there. With you.”

“Well,” Jaskier forced a grin onto his face, deciding to hide the sudden pain that flared up inside him with humor, like so many times before- the only way he managed to survive the heartbreak, the loneliness and the hopelessness he has felt through his life. That was the only way he could get through the pregnancy alone, that he could get through raising a child alone. The only way he could protect Amaryllis from feeling that pain.

“It seems like you’ll have to make do with your old, single father.”

“You’re not old,” Amaryllis reminded him with a laugh. “You had me when you were about my age. You’re still rockin’ and you’re still smokin’.”

“Such flattery. I assume the dress you want is really expensive, then?”

Amaryllis laughed and gave him a tight hug. Jaskier hid his face in her neck so she couldn’t see the way his smile faded.

Kate returned with the accessories amidst many apologies for going away for so long. She took Amaryllis with her again to try the jewelry with the dress so they could settle for the best option. There was an uncomfortable, churning sensation inside Jaskier’s stomach when he was left alone.

The last thing he expected was this. The idea that Amaryllis has been thinking about this again, that she might have felt sad over not having her other parent there shattered Jaskier. He never wanted to see his daughter sad, especially because of him. And sure, Amaryllis assured him it wasn’t his fault, but it kinda was, wasn’t it? If he wasn’t such a slut, sleeping with everyone who caught his fancy, this wouldn’t have happened. He could have committed to an actual relationship, bonded with a nice Alpha or Beta or maybe even another Omega, could have gotten married, and now Amaryllis would have a beautiful wedding with all her family there, because if Jaskier did that, his mother wouldn’t have disowned him, either. All he had to offer his daughter was his stupid self, a tiny inn, and a herd of goats that he also inherited from his aunt.

He looked into the golden-framed mirror on the wall and sighed at his reflection. He looked younger than his age, something he was very proud of, but when he looked closer, into his own eyes, he’s seen the burden of leaving his careless youth behind.

He spotted a veil on the hanger by the mirror. The ache in his chest amplified. He turned around, quickly checking that no one saw him, then he took the veil off the hanger. He turned it around in his hand, running his fingers over the thin lace. It felt heavy like lead as he put it on his head and checked his reflection again.

You could have had this, a voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother reminded him, if you weren’t such a loose, immoral Omega.

Jaskier cursed and took the veil off, putting it back on the hanger as quickly as he managed. No, he would not let his guilt consume him. He needed to be strong for his daughter. This was about Amaryllis and her beautiful future, not about him and his tragic past.

Jaskier could only hope Amaryllis would forget about her mysterious other parent.

#geraskier #yennskier #radskier #a/b/o #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #radovid #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha yennefer #beta radovid #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #mamma mia au

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