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blue-aconite · 22 days

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fields of dandelions || prologue

Summary: Jake's life falls apart in less than an hour and he's left trying his best to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC

Authors Note: And we're back with a new series! This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I finally found the motivation to finish off the prologue. I just think the world needs more single dad!Jake, don't y'all agree?

Thank you to my betas @a-reader-and-a-writer & @green-socks and for letting me ramble on about this!

Jake spent a good twenty minutes staring at his own house through the windscreen. He remembered when he and Sarah first bought it. A lot had happened since. And now it looked like it was all coming to an end.

Sarah was on the phone as he entered the kitchen, talking quietly as she flipped through a magazine. He shoved his hand into the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for her to notice him. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat.

“Sarah.”

She looked up, eyes widening as she saw him. “Jake. I didn’t realise you were going to be home yet.” She ended the call without saying goodbye and Jake noticed how she chose to put the phone with the screen down.

He gave her a tight smile before sitting down across from her. “Half day. They’re running drills with the kids so Mav sent us home.”

“That’s nice. Did you pick up the boys?”

Jake shook his head. “Javy picked them up. They’re trying out his new pool.” The boys had been on their case since they found out their uncle Coyote was installing a pool in his backyard.

She hummed but offered no other answer. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, neither of them speaking. Sarah shifted in her seat, eyes darting back and forth between him and her phone.

Jake felt his stomach turn but decided to jump the gun. “I think we need to talk.”

He had expected some sort of fight, some sort of protest, so when Sarah only sighed and twisted her face in what resembled a smile, it was like a punch to the gut.

“How did you find out?” she asked, completely unbothered as she inspected her nails. She didn’t bother denying it, even though Jake hadn’t asked about it directly. But it was enough to confirm what Jake already knew but hoped he was wrong about.

Jake dragged a hand through his hair, baffled at her lack of reaction. “How did I find out? Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Sarah shook her head, manicured nails tapping the table. Jake dragged a hand down his face.

“I want you to say that you didn’t fuck him. That you didn’t invite him into our house while our boys were home. I mean, what the fuck?!”

If his words affected her, Sarah didn’t show it. She twisted her wedding band round and round, her silence telling him everything Jake needed to know.

“If you’ve been unhappy -”

“It’s not about that. It’s complicated, Jake.” Sarah sighed.

Jake scoffed, clearing his throat. “Uncomplicate it for me then. Tell me why I had to find out from our son that you’ve been inviting another man into my house. How many times, huh?”

“How many times what?” she countered, staring at him. Jake could barely recognise his own wife. She didn’t seem to care that their five-year-old had seen her with another man.

“You know what I’m asking, don’t play dumb. How many times did you bring him here?” Jake pushed away from the table, unable to sit still anymore. Sarah’s disinterest only served to make him more agitated.

As if his question finally affected her, Sarah looked up at him but her face showed nothing. “Just one time. And the kids were supposed to be asleep.”

“How long?” It hurt to ask but he needed to know. How long had she been cheating on him? He could piece it together, track back to when she started to become distant but he wanted her to admit it. As if it would feel better.

Sarah pressed her lips together, hands clasped on top of the table. “Couple of months. I don’t know.”

He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Of all the possible scenarios he had of the future when he asked Sarah to marry him after high school, this one had never crossed his mind. How had they ended up here?

“Why? Tell me why.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

Shaking his head, Jake gripped the back of the chair he vacated earlier. “Stop saying that. Tell me the truth. If the last 18 years have meant anything to you, you’ll be honest with me,” he paused, drawing a shaky breath. “You owe me that much.”

“I don’t know what to say, Jake! It’s done, okay? I can’t pinpoint the exact fucking moment, alright? One moment everything was alright and then it wasn’t. And he was there for me. Stop questioning me, this isn’t an interrogation.” Sarah spat, anger seeping into her voice.

“No. You don’t get to be angry. You’re the one that fucked up. You do not get to tell me I don’t get to ask questions.” Jake spat back, his own anger surfacing. She had no right to play the victim.

Sarah rolled her eyes, a humourless laugh leaving her. “Alright, fine. Do you want the truth? I’m so fucking tired of this life. I’m tired of staying home all the fucking time whenever you get deployed, putting my own career on hold for you. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of you. For once, I want to do something for me, have something for myself.”

“And to achieve that you decided that cheating on me was the best course of action? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?” Jake demands all the anger and hurt clashing together.

Sarah shakes her head. “Like talking would do any good.”

He thought it would hurt more, to hear that his own wife was tired of him but all he could feel was a numbness spreading through his body.

The woman sitting in front of him wasn’t his wife, wasn’t the mother of his children. She sounded cold, detached, almost like Jake felt.

Jake scoffed. “Well, you could have said something, instead of fucking someone else. We could have tried couples therapy -”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. And now it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” Sarah interrupted.

He stared at her, trying hard to remember the girl he once had fallen in love with. But she was nowhere to be found. Instead he saw someone he didn’t even recognised anymore. Sarah stared back, neither of them breaking eye contact. He knew it was the end. She knew it too.

“Are you leaving?”

Sarah lowered her gaze back to her hands. “Yes.”

“What about the boys?”

Sarah didn’t say anything. She stayed quiet, once again twisting her wedding band round and round. Jake sat down again, exhaustion seeping into his bones. “Sarah. What about the boys?”

“What about them?” She kept her eyes on her hands, refusing to meet his eye.

Jake threw his hands up in frustration. “What do we tell them?”

Sarah pulls the wedding band off along with the engagement ring he’d given her all those years ago. He could do nothing but watch as she ended twelve years of marriage right in front of his eyes. Eighteen years together, right down the drain.

She leaves them laying on the long abandoned magazine and Jake couldn’t make himself pick them up. He didn’t want to touch them. “We need to tell them.”

“They won’t understand,” Sarah argues.

“So we shouldn’t say anything? They’re old enough to understand that something is wrong. We need to sit down together and talk to them,” he reasons but Sarah seems disinterested in continuing their conversation.

“No. You can tell them whatever you want. I’m not doing this,” Sarah snaps, blindsiding him. What the fuck is she saying?

When he asks her as much, Sarah simply shrugs her shoulders, that cold, hard exterior back in place. “I’m leaving. You can tell them whatever you see fit. It’s honestly not my problem.”

Jake explodes. “You’re not even going to say goodbye? How am I supposed to go pick up our children and explain to them why their mother isn’t home? How is that fair? To me? To them?!” He wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.

The chair scrapes on the floor as Sarah stands and Jake follows suit, anger coursing through his veins. “You can’t just leave.”

Sarah simply levels him with a glare, challenging him to make another move. After a tense minute Sarah folds, shoulders slumping. “Fine. Pick up the boys and we’ll talk.”

“I swear to God, if you’re not here when I get back -”

“I’ll be here,” Sarah promises, sitting back down and flipping the magazine open again. The rings clatter onto the table and down onto the floor but neither of them makes an effort to get them.

As he pulls out of the driveway, Jake prays that she’ll still be there when they get back. He doesn’t believe her but at this point, he doesn’t have a choice. He chooses to believe that she wouldn’t abandon their sons. She might be tired of him, their marriage, but Jake knows Sarah loves Josh and Levi. She wouldn’t just leave. She couldn’t.

After exchanging a few words with Javy and making sure the boys are safely strapped in their seats, Jake rushes back home. He drives slower than he’d like to but with the boys in the car, he’s not willing to risk it.

Dread fills him when he pulls into the driveway. The garage is open and Sarah’s convertible is gone. After bribing the boys with ice cream if they promise to stay in the car just a little while longer, Jake jogs up the porch, heart sinking in his chest.

The house is eerily quiet when he steps inside and he berates himself for trusting Sarah to stay true to her word. Because all that is left of the woman he’s loved for eighteen years, the mother of his children, is a note on the fridge.

“Tell the boys I love them.”

Taglist: @wildbornsiren @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @top-hhun @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster@notroosterbradshaw @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void@bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics @septemberrie @somenamewithepineapple @seresinsweetie @crescentwolf @seresinhangmanjake @waklman @roosterforme @rosiahills22 @dempy @i0veless @ilovewriting06 @kmc1989 @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming

#jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #top gun maverick fic #jake hangman seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #fe writes #fic: fields of dandelions

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write-ur-wrongs · 5 months

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Stayaway

In an attempt to get out of funk, here is a very short, not edited, written-directly-into-tumblr, song-inspired grealt x reader fic. Inspired by Stayaway by MUNA (the best band in the world, begging y'all to listen to their music you will be forever changed!!).

*********

"Come on! I know you're home, I followed you!"

The bard was yelling and banging on your door incessantly and you knew you had to answer eventually. The bastard followed you home after all, he knows where you live.

"I'm not home!" you shouted back, delusional.

"Y/N! I may be a fool but I'm not stupid," he replied, and you could hear the familiar smile pulling at his lips, "Now open up! The door and your heart!"

"Jask," you sighed, laughing despite yourself at his poetic antics, "go away!"

"No! I miss you!"

"I'm not home!" you tried again, will wavering.

"Y/N!" he pleaded, and you swore you could hear half that cursed smile pull down into a pout.

You rested your forehead against the door and bit your lip, debating. All the while, your hand betrayed you, reached for the doorknob and turned it open.

Before you knew it, you were face to face with an old friend and while the sight of him filled you with joy, you were also flooded with other, less welcome feelings of remembrance.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, pushing himself into your home and saving you from dwelling on the heavy memories that tried to creep up over you. "You're home, what are the odds?"

"Hilarious as always, Jaskier," you said, closing the door behind him. "What brings you to my little hamlet?"

"Fate, chance, what have you," he said, his cheery demeanor working overtime to cover for his abject curiosity, "The sea called and I had to answer. You know how it is."

"I do, do I?"

"Don't you? I mean you just disappeared... I assumed something called and you, you know, answered?" His tone stayed light, the practiced levity of someone who's spent years buttering people up for information all while staying neutral.

"I guess..." you bit your cheek, busying yourself by playing hostess, and pouring you both a glass of wine, "things changed and I thought, 'hell, why not change too?'"

"Fair enough... oh thank you."

"Of course," you said, taking a sip of wine yourself before guiding you both towards your couch, "but seriously Jaskier, why are you here?"

"Seriously? I was just passing through on my way to Oxenfurt when I saw a familiar face. A face I thought I'd never see again..."

You looked up from your glass then, but immediately regretted it when you met the bard's earnest gaze.

"Yennefer thought she saw you in Novigrad a while back but then... nothing. We thought you were gone for good."

"Jaskier, come on," you pleaded, praying he wouldn't elaborate on who 'we' entailed, while another, less disciplined part of you hoped for the opposite. Maybe if you knew he missed you, maybe if you knew he was looking for you... maybe you could let yourself be found.

No!

"Don't shake your head at me, Y/N. You disappear from the city, you quit your job, no one has seen you at the pub, the library - anywhere!"

"I- I know... but Jask," you stammered, trying to start three sentences at once and fumbling them all.

"I mean, you loved your job, didn't you? And what about us?" he asked, voice cracking slightly. "Gods, was the breakup that bad?"

"The thing is, Jask," you sputtered between large sips of wine, "It wasn't. It was easy, actually. He did what he always does when we fight; scowl, shut down, turn away, and then take it out on our friends. The break was clean."

"If it was so clean, then why did you leave?"

"It's the rest of it! The, the staying away that was, is impossible. If I had stayed and kept going it out with you guys, we'd drink and dance and I'd wonder where he is. Or one moment I'd be at the library studying and the next, Yen be asking me about the breakup and trying to 'cheer' me up by bringing up the good times and next thing you know? I'm answering the door for him when he rolls back into town injured and brooding. I couldn't stand it! I- I couldn't risk it."

"That's -"

"Pathetic? I know."

"No! No, but if there were so many good times, so many reasons to go back then why not-"

"Damn it, Jaskier! This is why I had to leave." You said, gesturing between the two of you before dropping your hand on your lap with a smack. "If I let him back in, then he's not the man who broke my heart anymore. Not the one who told me I was overemotional for being worried when he'd disappear for months. Suddenly everything is fine... until it's not and I'm hurt and alone again."

You felt tears begin to prick the back of your eyes and shoved the heel of your palms into them to force them down.

"Hey... Y/N," Jaskier said, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes and taking them in his. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"It's okay," you said, giving your friends hands a squeeze and looking up to the ceiling, letting your tears fall for a moment, "I'm okay."

"Y/N..."

"Oh alright, but I'll be okay," you amended, laughing at yourself lightly and wiping the tears away. "Jaskier, don't look so sad. I just need time, space, distance... I will be fine."

Your words had little effect on your friend though, who seemed to grow more anxious and sad with every passing moment. You quirked your brow at him and shoved his shoulder playfully, trying to break the mood.

"Jaskier, will you relax?" you asked, desperate to get him to smile now. You really had missed Jaskier and now that he was here, you realized how much you wanted him to stick around.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry." He whispered, refusing to meet your gaze.

You were about to try another lighthearted quip when you heard a knock at your door. Not someone knocking, just a knock. One quick but deliberate rap.

"Who...?" you heard yourself asking, even though you only ever knew one person who knocked on doors like that.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry," Jaskier kept repeating. "I really didn't know. I never would have told him if I'd known."

Your mouth was bone dry but you couldn't get your hand to reach for your glass of wine. You just kept staring at Jaskier, watching him babble.

"I'll go tell him to leave, Y/N, I'm so sorry," you heard him say, his voice barely registering over the ringing in your ears.

You felt him get up off the couch, your blurred vision registering the now empty spot on the couch only after you heard your door be pulled open.

Every fiber of your being was on fire. You were frozen. You wanted to throw yourself on the floor. You wanted to run to him.

"Y/N..." you heard him say. Fuck he sounded sad. You wanted to hold him, tell him it'll be okay. You wanted to slam the door in his face. You forgive him. You'll never forgive yourself.

Against your better judgement, you felt yourself to turn look towards the front door and your breath caught when you saw him.

Gods above, you thought, he should have stayed away.

#geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #geralt x reader #the witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher series #the witcher x reader #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #muna #song fic #one shot #angst #jaskier fanfic #dandelion

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thefandomlifechoseme · 5 months

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consider:

professor!Jaskier, who teaches in the winter, and travels with Geralt in the summer.

it's winter, jaskier's got to oxenfurt in good time, his students are polite and attentive, and they've been going missing. not many, and not often, but alice didn't turn up to that guest lecture she'd insisted she'd be going to, peter hasn't turned up in a week, and catherine never came to that meeting the other day.

his colleagues think it's some monster. he has to talk them out of hiring a witcher, citing the fact that they don't know what it is, witchers don't take contracts on people, and, oh yeah, it's winter. the only witchers currently available for hire are the Cats, and it's incredibly unlikely that their caravans will stop by oxenfurt.

now, jaskier's been travelling with his beloved emotionally-constipated witcher for a fair few decades now. it might be a monster, some necrophage, or a werewolf. but it probably isn't. there's a reason witchers don't work in winter, and it's that monsters hibernate. and besides, the dates that the students went missing don't line up with any particular cycle, lunar or otherwise.

they do however, line up with the dates for a fae festival. now, jaskier isn't saying that the fae did this, but the fae did this.

so, he checks the next relevant date, sends a letter to yennefer, triss and one for when geralt hits the path again, as a precaution, because he's not an idiot, no matter how he likes to play the part.

he brings an iron dagger, enough food and water for 2 weeks, his best lute, his composition notebook, his path notebook, and, begrudgingly, some of valdo's less terrible works and a few of essi's latest ballads, because they have different styles of performing, and he waits outside that mushroom circle he found a few years back.

he hopes that they're only after some music to live their festival up.

(they are, thankfully, and, aside from all the word games, mind games, and actual games, it's fairly easy to get their leader to sign a contract with him stating that they will play at this festival and his festival alone, they may, willingly play at other festivals if they choose, that they're all free to leave after the allotted dates for the festival are up, and that this contract will be good for 1,000 years irrespective of any changes in leadership, with him personally, and that any changes to the contract must be verbally, and explicitly signed by all the people involved in the signing of the contract.

it's actually fairly entertaining.)

(yen and triss have a go at him later, of course, and geralt has him go over all the loopholes in his own contracts for their next five years on the path, supposedly to help him get the most money he can, but they both know it's so he doesn't accidentally leave a loophole in any other contracts he might make with the fae. but it's out love and relief, more than anything.)

#witcher fic #fanfiction #headcanons #headcanon #the witcher jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #witcher yennefer #triss merigold #witcher triss #jaskier #witcher dandelion

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access-point · 7 months

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i like that the reason any of us write jaskier as capable and strong and able to hold his own is because of joey and his clearly built figure because if you read the books, dandelion is about as useful as a wet napkin

#im reading the books now and i cannot fucking get over it #''i know everything now'' ''you know fuck all dandelion'' WEEPING #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher jaskier #the witcher dandelion #dandelion #the witcher netflix #the witcher books #joey batey #in my most recent fic i wrote jaskier fighting with a sword but dandelion?? dandelion would bloody well NOT ToT ToT ToT #dandelion ''i had him right where i wanted him'' face ass #i still hc that dandelion can use a sword but he just... wont. hes the damsel helloo #like dont get me wrong he's still the sandpiper and a redanian spy and all that cool competent shit he does #but everytime anything happens in the books he starts crying out for geralt like a midwife im in love with him #hes good at what he does but hes very. limp wrist about it yknow

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queenxxxsupreme · 9 months

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Benevolent Creatures (Jaskier x siren!reader)

A/N: Hi babes!!! I will be posting a little something shortly to just explain a couple things but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: nothing outside of canon for the Witcher Netflix

Word Count: 4.5k

“Where is Jaskier leading us, Geralt?” Cirilla asked quietly. Geralt looked over his shoulder to where she sat atop Roach.

“I don’t know.” He answered.

Just ahead of them was Jaskier. He strummed his lute as he walked down a narrow path of moss-covered stones.

Ciri’s eyes flickered to her right. Something scurried beneath the underbrush.

“How much longer until we get to wherever it is you’re taking us, Jaskier?” Geralt stepped over a tree root, then guided Roach by the reins over it.

“Not long at all.” The bard spoke over his shoulder. “We’re nearly there.”

“And where exactly is there?” Ciri raised her eyebrows. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’ll see.”

Geralt didn't like how silent everything was. There were no crickets, no frogs, no birds. There was no sign of life anywhere in the swamp.

Roach huffed and whinnied, jerking her head back. Her ears flickered back and forth as if she too was trying to find some sort of sound.

“Shh, girl.” Geralt signed axii, calming her down.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ciri furrowed her brow.

The witcher looked to his Child Surprise, then returned his gaze ahead.

“She knows something isn’t right.” He pulled back a branch from a black willow tree that dangled in the path.

Just a few moments later, the walkway opened up to reveal a pool of water. A wooden bridge that seemed to be decaying crossed over the water and led the way to a small wooden structure on the other side of the pool.

The wooden structure— which appeared to be a home —sat up on wooden stilts four feet off the ground. The front porch wrapped entirely around the home. Green moss and vines of all sorts grew along the sides of the structure, appearing as though it was being engulfed in greenery.

“Jaskier!” Geralt hissed. “What are we doing here?”

“Relax, Geralt.”

As he climbed the stairs to the house, Jaskier straightened out his jerkin and tucked his hair behind his ears. But he decided that having his hair behind his ears wasn’t a good idea and made him appear as though he was trying too hard. So he shook his head out to give himself a bit of a roughened look.

Letting out a breath, Jaskier raised his hand to knock on the door. Before his hand even touched the door, it was pulled open.

You stood just inside your home, a soft smile on your lips.

Without so much as a second thought, the bard embraced you in a firm hug. His arms wrapped around your waist and then around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your intoxicatingly sweet scent.

You kissed his neck since that was all you could reach, your fingers grasping his jerkin.

Jaskier pulled away so that he could properly kiss you. His hand found your chin, tilting your head up.

You smiled against his lips. Your hands came up to hold onto either side of his face. The sound of his heart beating quickly filled your ears. It was a familiar sound you always longed to hear.

He pulled away first, blue eyes finding yours.

“You smell odd.” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at him, brushing your thumb across his stubbly cheek.

You couldn’t quite place what he smelled like, but it wasn’t his usual scent. There was someone else laced with him, someone’s scent that made the hair on your neck stand on end.

“Well, I haven’t properly bathed in days— thanks to a series of unfortunate events.”

You opened your mouth to speak, ready to offer him a bath, but you heard movement to your right. You turned your head, eyes landing on the witcher and the child Jaskier had been traveling with.

You could sense her Chaos, the powerful aura radiating off of the girl. But she wasn’t what concerned you.

The white haired witcher carried twin swords on his back. A part of you wondered if they were the same swords he had decades ago. The same swords he used to try to murder you with. The same ones that he used to kill your sister.

A scar on your forearm burned from the sight of the swords. Instinctively, you placed your hand over the scar.

You took a step away from Jaskier, brows drawing together.

“Julian, what is the meaning of this?”

Geralt’s nose scrunched as he realized who you were. Your voice was far too familiar to forget. His medallion trembled, causing him to place his hand over it. The wrinkle between his brow deepened with frustration.

Without any explanation to the girl, he reached an arm out to guide Ciri behind him.

The simple action made you even more tense and unsure of the situation. He was preparing to fight you.

A growl began to vibrate in your chest, animalistic and primal.

“What the fuck, Jaskier!” Geralt demanded, drawing a sword from his back.

As you growled once more, dagger-like claws grew from what had once been human nails on your hands.

The bard came to stand between you both, holding his hands out to either of you.

“No, no! There will be no fighting!”

“Witcher.” You spoke through your teeth.

“What is she?” Ciri asked quietly, her question directed to Geralt.

“Siren.” Geralt let out a breath. He didn’t want to let on that he was worried. Should you choose to do so, you could very easily incapacitate him and slaughter Ciri and Jaskier. “Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought us here?”

“We will be safe here for a little while, Geralt! At least until we can get some sort of plan figured out.”

Your eyes shot to the bard, unaware of his intentions. Never had he brought anyone to your home.

“Ciri will not be staying here.” Geralt told him, yellow eyes finding yours.

Your lip curled up into a snarl. Human teeth were replaced with what looked like dozens of sharp canines.

“Alright, darling.” Jaskier turned to face you, reaching out to place a hand on your arm. You turned and stormed into your home before he could put his hand on you.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

Jaskier followed quickly behind you.

“Y/N, I don’t—,”

“You brought a witcher here to my home, Julian! And now I cannot stay here!” You spun around to face him. Your chest ached with betrayal.

“My love, my dear heart. Geralt isn’t here to cause you any harm.”

“You can’t see into his mind.” You shook your head, walking away from him once more. “He’s already made his decision and decided my fate.”

“He’s probably made that decision based on what he knows of other beings like you, but my heart, you aren’t like them.” Jaskier took your hand to stop you from moving away from him. “You are different. All you need to do is show him.”

You looked up at him, searching his blue eyes for a few moments.

Gods, you had missed those blue eyes so much.

“I won’t beg a man for my life, Julian.”

You pulled your hands out of his and turned to walk away again. This time, you only made it a few steps before he spoke.

“I’ve told you stories of Geralt before, my sweet. You’ve heard the ballads of our journeys. I am so, so sorry that I brought them here to your home.” His eyes fell down to his hands momentarily. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice, dear heart. That girl out there, she’s in danger and this is the only place that I know she is safe. And Geralt trusts me, he trusts my judgment enough to allow me to bring her here…. So I-I suppose all I am asking is that you just please, please my love, my heart, trust me as well.”

You looked past him to the front door that was left open. The witcher still stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the porch.

Your stomach twisted with the idea of letting him into your home, into what was perhaps the only safe place you had left. After what had happened the last time you encountered the witcher, the mighty Butcher of Blaviken, you didn’t even want to be in the same providence as him.

“I do trust you, Julian.” You murmured.

Jaskier kissed your knuckles and then your lips, smiling at you.

“I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than that.” You raised your brows as he took a step away from you.

“Indeed I do.”

***

While Jaskier talked with Geralt and Ciri outside, you busied yourself with straightening a few things in your home.

There was a small stack of books that had grown on the kitchen table. You picked them up and crossed the room to the wall of bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.

“I didn’t think sirens were capable of appearing….” Ciri trailed off as she walked into your home. “Human.”

“They aren’t.” You placed the last book on the shelf. “Sirens are only capable of looking like sirens.”

“But you said she was a siren.” She looked over to Geralt.

“It’s…. complicated, Ciri.”

You crossed your arms, eyes set on Geralt.

“Because something is complicated, you refuse to explain it to her?”

The witcher gritted his teeth together.

“You are standing before what is perhaps the last Nixe on the Continent, Ciri.” Geralt held your gaze. “They were nearly hunted to extinction at the beginning of the century.”

“Why?”

“Because they are extremely dangerous. Far more than the sirens you’ve seen from Skellige.”

You tilted your chin up, trying your damnedest to remain calm and collected while the witcher spoke of the truth he knew.

“Every creature must hunt for their food.” You said. “A lion hunts for its food just the same as a fawn. Doesn’t mean the lion should be killed.”

“Your kind turned into a problem when you began slaughtering hundreds of humans purely for entertainment.”

The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable as neither you nor the witcher backed down from the glaring contest.

Jaskier clapped his hands together, making you look in his direction.

“Alright! Geralt, let’s go outside.”

“Come on, Ciri—,”

“No, she stays here.” Jaskier pointed to Ciri.

Geralt’s eyes shot over to the bard.

“I am not leaving her here with—,”

“Yes, you are.” Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm. “If Y/N wanted to spill blood today, she would have done so already. You know that. Now, outside! Come on!”

You watched as Jaskier ushered Geralt out of your home and closed the door behind himself.

Ciri looked around your home for a couple moments before her green eyes flickered to you.

“How long have you known Jaskier?”

“A while.”

“Geralt said you were dangerous.” Ciri’s blue eyes looked you over. “You don’t look dangerous.”

You wore an off white dress that brushed the floor as you walked. There was a slit up one side of the skirt that came just above mid-thigh. Over the dress was a dark green underbust corset. You wore no shoes, finding the material irritating and the restriction caused by them unbearable. Brown leather bracelets encircled both of your wrists and ankles.

You twisted a ring on one of your fingers as you moved towards the kitchen table.

“Come have a seat, child.”

She sat down across from you, curious to hear what you had to say.

“My kind…. We are very similar to sirens found on the coasts. We both are only women, and we both can produce what you know of as a siren song. But only sirens can fly, and only nixes can shapeshift.”

“That’s how you are able to appear human? By shapeshifting?”

“Yes.” You nodded, rubbing your arm absentmindedly. “Centuries ago, nixes existed just as any other creature. I suppose you could say we are dangerous, but humans are dangerous as well.”

“How are you dangerous?” Ciri tilted her head to the side a little.

“Just as sirens do, nixes hunt humans.”

The girl shifted in her spot, her eyes falling to the deer mandible on the table.

“Don’t worry, child.” You reached over to offer her a comforting hand, but at the last minute, you decided against it. You returned your hand to your lap. “Julian wouldn’t have allowed you here if I was like that.”

“Nixes…. What did Geralt mean when he said nixes kill for entertainment?”

You let out a soft breath.

“Nixes and humans are very similar, dear. Humans kill for pleasure too. They start wars, they slaughter their neighbors…. But my kind, we had a few slip ups where we went too far…. And there was no going back. For that very reason, we were hunted to near extinction.”

The front door opened and automatically, you stood up. It was only Jaskier, who offered you a gentle smile.

“Ah, sorry about that, ladies.”

“Where’s Geralt?” Ciri asked.

“He had to take Roach into town to be stabled.l since Y/N doesn’t have a stable she could stay in.”

“I have no need for a horse.” You reminded him. “They tend to have a strong dislike for my kind.”

You sat back down in your chair as Jaskier came to stand next to your chair.

“I apologize for his behavior, my sweet.” He placed a hand upon your arm and leaned down to kiss your head.

“There’s no reason for you to apologize for the ways of another man.”

“I hope Ciri isn’t giving you any hassle.”

The girl wrinkled her nose at Jaskier.

“None at all.” You smiled, shaking your head softly. “She’s just curious.”

***

Jaskier took Geralt away from the house in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t hear their conversation. But the witcher wasn’t keen on putting space between himself and the monster that had been left with his Child Surprise.

“I will not go any further, Jaskier.” Geralt spoke firmly, stopping his tracks just a few feet from the porch.

“Geralt, you—,”

“You led us straight to a fucking siren, Jaskier.”

“You don’t understand, Geralt! Ciri is safer here than she is anywhere else!”

“She’d be safer in a wyvern’s nest than here.”

“In all our years, Geralt, we’ve come across plenty of monsters that weren't actually monsters. Y/N is one of those–,”

“I promise you, Jaskier, she isn’t what you think.”

“But she is, Geralt!” A smile came to Jaskier’s face. “I’ve known her for seven years, and I swear to you she is one of the kindest, most gentle beings I have ever met. And-And I cannot have you holding such a harmful bias against someone I love!”

Geralt shook his head, rubbing his brow.

“You said the same thing about the blacksmith’s daughter in Caingorn last month.”

Jaskier shook his head and waved his hands dismissively.

“No, no, Geralt. Love isn’t black and white my friend! It’s shades of gray. Y/N— She is my one true love. The one my heart yearns for every bleeding second of the day. The one I long for when I am away. The one that causes a fire in my–,”

“Does she know your love isn’t black and white?”

“Yes! She does! And she is welcoming to my love.”

The witcher raised his brows. Jaskier let out a sigh, brushing his hair back.

“Geralt, please. She’s someone important to me. I love her and I trust her with my life. Yes, in the past she has hurt people…. But what matters is that she isn’t that anymore.”

Geralt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering to the house.

He wanted to trust Jaskier, but sometimes the bard’s judgment could be distracted by the presence of an attractive being.

“The first time I feel that Ciri’s life is in danger, we are leaving.”

“Thank you, Geralt!” Jaskier embraced him in a tight hug. “And I will speak with Y/N about her…. Hospitality. Though I’m sure showing up on her doorstep was quite the surprise. Y/N isn’t keen on strangers, but she is a sweetheart once you get to know her.”

The witcher grumbled, disagreeing with his friend.

***

With two satchels over his shoulders, Geralt made his way into the house. His eyes flickered around the room in search of Ciri. He spotted his Child Surprise sitting at the table with you and Jaskier.

Jaskier’s chair was pulled rather close to yours, his arm wrapped around yours and your fingers laced together.

For a split second, Geralt saw you smiling as you spoke to Ciri. But then your eyes flickered over to the White Wolf and in the same instant, the smile fell from your lips.

“It’s getting late.” He spoke, placing the bags down beside the table. “Jaskier mentioned a guest room where Ciri could rest.”

“Just down the hall.” You nodded once.

Ciri’s stomach growled with hunger. She smiled sheepishly, bringing her hand up to her stomach.

You and the witcher were the only two to hear thanks to your enhanced hearing.

“My apologies, child. I wasn’t aware I’d be having company.” You frowned, feeling a bit guilty that you didn’t have the proper food for her.

“In the morning, I will go into town and gather what supplies we will need.” Jaskier volunteered.

You stood to your feet and moved around your home, picking up a netted bag.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” Jaskier’s eyes followed you.

“I can’t have her going to bed with an empty stomach.” You gestured to her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. For the meantime, start a fire in the hearth, please.”

As the front door closed behind you, Ciri looked at Geralt.

“I quite like her.”

He grunted and rolled his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgements.”

“Same could be said for you.”

Geralt turned his head to look at the bard, who moved away from the table to start a fire in the hearth.

***

After a small dinner consisting of fish cooked over the fire, you found yourself sitting alongside the young girl as she asked you questions.

“Are Nixes from a specific area?”

“We can inhabit any water source. Lakes, rivers, ponds, seas.”

“And swamps?”

You smiled a little, nodding your head.

“Yes, even swamps.”

“Where are you from?”

You looked over to her for a few moments, trying to think of a good answer.

“When you’ve lived as long as I have, child, you don’t keep track of something so trivial.”

She nodded her head and fell silent for a little while.

“I think it is a good time for bed.” Geralt stood to his feet.

“Y/N, have you got anything Ciri can change into?” Jaskier asked. “At least until her clothes can be washed tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course. But I do think she could use a bath before changing into clean clothes, don’t you think so, dear?”

“A bath would be lovely.” Ciri nodded her head enthusiastically. The poor girl was smudge with dirt and grime. Her greasy hair was pulled back into a braid and she smelled less than pleasant. A bath would be the perfect way to finish the night.

“There’s a pool of water not too far away–,”

“It’s getting dark outside.” Geralt interjected, causing himself to be at the other end of your glare once more. “There are things outside that could harm Ciri.”

“I can keep her safe, witcher.”

Geralt locked his jaw.

“Geralt.” Jaskier said his name as if to encourage him to let you take the young girl out.

“Fine. Ten minutes.”

You nodded once, a wordless agreement.

***

You sat on the edge of the pool of water. One foot was dipped into the water. You leaned back on your hands, your eyes flickering around the edge of the woods.

While the princess bathed, you sat guard.

Crickets, cicadas, and frogs made a beautiful and tranquil sound that resonated through the woods. Every now and then, something would splash as it broke into the water on the other side of the pool. Ciri would jump and turn in the direction of the noise. You would tell her that it was a bullfrog or a fish breaching the surface, and you may have lied a little bit to her whenever the noise came from an alligator. The animals had no interest in coming close to you, so the girl was safe.

“Y/N? Can I ask you something?” Ciri brushed her wet hair over one shoulder. You gave her a nod in reply. “Geralt is usually a very good judge of character…. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so hostile towards someone within the first few moments of meeting them.”

You turned your head to watch a black and white ringed snake slither along the top of the water and away from yourself and Ciri.

“This isn’t my first encounter with him.” Your eyes flickered back to her. “The Continent is unfortunately far too small for those of us unfazed by time.”

“I take it you don’t like each other.”

There was a long pause as you gazed at her, tempted to tell her all the gory details of the first time you ran into the infamous Butcher himself.

“He killed my sister.” Your voice fell to a quiet murmur.

“I…. I’m sorry for your loss.

You sat up, brushing the dirt off of your palms.

“She was the reason for her own demise in the end. Witchers rarely give my kind a second chance. The White Haired One saw us as more than just beasts. He gave my sister and myself a second chance. She could not control her urges.”

“Urges?”

You nodded lightly, reaching your hand out to skim the surface of the water.

“Every monster craves something. Most act on their hunger, slaughtering entire villages to satisfy their cravings. Some act on the pain that rests inside them. They destroy whatever they can get their hands on in an effort to get others to feel the same pain they do.”

“And what is it you do?” Ciri tilted her head to the side just a little.

“Survive.”

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x siren!reader #jaskier x siren #jaskier fic #jaskier #dandelion #dandelion the Witcher #the Witcher 3 #the Witcher netflix #Jaskier the witcher #julian alfred pankratz

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mlm-writer · 5 months

Text

Old Friend (Geralt x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Show!Geralt of Rivia x Gender Neutral Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic) Rating: Mature Words: 1670 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 21 - “I did what I had to do to protect those I love… I had no choice!” Note: Don't @ me for still posting things that were supposed to come out in October. Tags: angst, mention of Ciri & Yennefer, ft. Jaskier & Milva, murder and dark magic

Everyone would agree that Ciri was an unlucky girl with a life tainted by tragedy. Every time you spoke with her about her past, you felt a little pang in your heart. However, sometimes you envied her. The way Geralt reserved his warmest of smiles for his charge, the way the most powerful sorceress spent her time teaching Ciri and the power Ciri possessed sometimes made you feel like she was, in some way, a very lucky girl.

You spent life on the run with Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer. Most of the time you felt like you were family, sometimes you felt like an extra, an unnecessary weight, but no one told you to leave. You had nothing to teach Ciri that Geralt and Yennefer couldn’t. They had it covered from sword to spells to alchemy.

Then things kept going to shit and before you knew it, Geralt was flirting with death and Ciri was missing. You wanted to go find her, but Yennefer insisted you stayed with Geralt. “You can heal anything!” Geralt exclaimed as you exhausted yourself once more. He was capable of loud verbal abuse. You should’ve counted that as a win, but it was hard to, when Geralt was still bed-bound.

“I’m doing everything I can!” You yelled back. Milva entered, her hand landing on your shoulder. It has been the same song over and over again ever since Jaskier revealed Ciri was on her way to Nilfgaard. Geralt proceeded to demand more of you. Milva forced you out. Jaskier was waiting for you with a brew of herbs that would help you recover your strength. “I’m really doing everything I can,” you sobbed by the fire.

Jaskier put his arm around you, comforting you the best he could. “I know. He knows. He is just… Geralt.” You leaned against the bard, letting his body’s warmth seep into yours. You sat by the fire until it got dark. Jaskier eventually let you be to mull over your thoughts in peace. When you had the strength you used your magic on those that did appreciate it. You were weak, but even a little was for many enough to pull their foot out of the grave.

Exhaustion gnawed at your bones. Your muscles felt like they were weighed down by the state of the world. You took a stroll out of the camp, trying to avoid Jaskier and Milva. They meant well, but their words were not enough to distract you from the power you lacked.

When the lights of the camp were far behind you, you stopped walking. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, knees colliding with the muddy ground of the forest. From a secret pocket sewn into the coat you’ve had for over two decades, you procured an amulet you haven’t worn since you met Geralt all those years ago. The deep red gem reflected the light of the moon onto your eyes. Deep within the stone you could see an old friend. You promised Geralt you’d throw this trinket away; you promised you would never give in to temptation again, but despair had forced you quite literally to your knees. You clenched the charm tightly in your fist. “All is fair in love and war,” you whispered as you stared down at your fist, noticing how red light seeped between your fingers. “These are times of war and… I love him.”

Those words spoken aloud strengthened your resolve. You closed your eyes as you put the thin golden chain over your head, letting the amulet fall right where your heart was. As soon as that metal hit your chest, you felt an old friend occupying your mind once more. “I always knew you’d come back,” it told you. It gave you visions of how to help Geralt. The methods dancing on the grey moral spectrum, but led by these visions, you made your way back to the camp. You entered the tents of the sleeping patients you had helped earlier. You touched those that you didn’t think would make it to the morning. Their life force entered through your fingertips. They breathed their final breath. You felt the weak energy pooling together. One tent, two, three, you passed though the whole camp, taking what you needed from those that were not likely to hold onto it for long anyway. Each time you took, darkness rose to your skin, revealing your deeds in the night.

Your veins had turned black by the time you entered the final tent. Geralt was fast asleep as well, too injured to even hear you entering, too unwell to open his eyes and ask you what you were doing there. A black tear rolled down your cheek as you placed your hand on his chest and let go of all the energy you had collected. The life energy of the people that died that night flowed from your chest down to your fingertips. In his sleep, Geralt inhaled deeply as the energy filled him. It only took a moment, but it felt like an eternity as you felt the weight of the lives you took to save the one most dear to you.

When you were devoid of all the energy but your own, you collapsed on the ground, legs too tired to keep you up. You took deep breaths, trying to avoid looking at your hands. However, in the end you just needed to know how bad things were. You raised your palms, the sight - though expected - still horrifying. Your skin had blackened from the dark magic. Your hands felt fine though. “You did well. This is only the beginning of what we can achieve. You’re meant to take what you please,” the old friend’s voice echoed through your skull. The words were reassuring, but you knew all too well where things could lead. You reached for the amulet, ready to rip it off you. “You need me. Without me you’re useless. You can’t protect the ones you love.”

Geralt had you once believe otherwise, but it only took one glance towards him to show you where his faith in you had led him to. Even the great White Wolf could be wrong sometimes. Defeated, you slowly let go of the amulet, allowing it to occupy its old spot. “Everything will be fine. You will be fine,” the being spoke through the amulet to you. You had heard those words a million times from Jaskier, but only now did they actually soothe you.

The next morning you woke up from stirring on the bed. You hadn’t dared to leave the tent and slept on a chair. “Geralt,” you whispered, aware of your surroundings the moment your ears picked up on the rustling of blankets. You forgot what you looked like, immediately rising from the chair and joining Geralt at his side. You inspected the wound on his leg, but it was not there anymore, a new scar adorning his skin.

Your eyes didn’t meet Geralt’s until he sat up on his own. “What did you do?” His voice dripped of venom. You lifted your head to meet his yellow eyes, darkened by the deeply furrowed eyebrows. Your throat felt tight, so tight that not a single syllable could make it through to the cold space between you and the Witcher. He called your name and reached out. You were frozen in place as his calloused fingers traced the black marks on your face. “What did you do?” He repeated the question, emphasising each word with urgency.

Black tears pooled in your eyes, the first few already rolling down your cheeks by the time you found your voice once more. “I did what I had to do to protect those I love…” You swallowed a lump in your throat. “I had no choice.” Your voice trembled, each word shaking more than the previous one.

Geralt was visibly seething as he grabbed your arm, his grip tight. “What did you do?” He demanded, voice booming in the small space. You tried to free yourself.

“Geralt, please, you’re hurting me!” “Say it!”

He knew you. He knew you from the moment he met you. He knew the person you could be once you gave up on your ‘old friend’. He knew what you did then and he knew what you did last night. He knew, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to have mistaken that familiar amulet around your neck. However, things were exactly as it seemed and just like things never changed, Jaskier and Milva came in right on que.

Jaskier called out for Geralt, tried to calm him. He immediately commented on how he seemed to be better, proceeded to ask how. Meanwhile, Milva freed you of Geralt’s grip. A crowd had formed at the entrance, but you couldn’t see anyone in the room but Geralt. “How many have died tonight?” Geralt demanded to know, Jaskier and Milva now in between you two. They tried to calm him. “How many?” He roared.

His fury eventually ripped the answer out of you. “I don’t know! I only took from those that were not likely to make it to the morning anyway.”

“Jaskier…” Geralt’s voice was quieter now he got his answer from you. He turned to the bard. “How many people died tonight?” Jaskier turned to Milva, hoping she held the answer.

“42,” she spoke with surprising steadiness. She then looked at you, shaming you with her eyes alone. She was not the only one who despised your existence after that night. Jaskier pleaded for your life, then left with Geralt to find Ciri. You had to go your own way, fend for yourself once more. If it wasn’t for your aching heart, it was like you never met the Witcher at all. He never wanted to see you again, but even as you walked with your backs facing each other, you felt like you would see him again. It was a funny thing… destiny.

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