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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 6 months

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Imagine Geralt realising how pissed you are after running into you again…

It was another busy day where knights, men and women of all corners came in to rest their battle-weary feet and drink mead. There would be the occasional brawl but they were nothing when you compared it to battling a cursed wyvern with a blindfold.

You exited the back room having just refilled the pitcher of cool mead when a familiar grunt caught your attention. Just behind a rowdy table of farmers, in the corner, sat the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia - and a bard who was far too chipper while sober.

Inching a little closer, you busied yourself with empty flagons while remaining within earshot of the pair.

“Come on - it’s not a bad lyric. Ah, what do you know? You can wield a sword but not understand the complex meaning behind a beautiful string of words.” The bard said.

Geralt scoffed. “It wasn’t complex.”

An old man slid a few coins across the table for the service which you pocketed and then moved on to the next.

“We can’t stay long.” Geralt told his companion. You glanced back briefly and saw the brightly dressed man staring into his coin satchel, concerned.

“I could swear there was more silver in here. Geralt, I think I’ve been indecently swindled.”

You wanted to confirm that the man could easily have fallen prey to the notorious pick-pockets that haunt the tavern but you stayed silent, now distracted by a customer who ordered some pies.

“Don’t forget the carrots this time.” He reminded.

You wanted to tell him where to shove his carrots but heard your name being shouted from across the floor.

“Y/n, I need a word!” It was the tavern owner who enjoyed paying you less than what you were owed. With a sigh, you trudged over to him away from most prying ears. “You’ve been waiting on those tables long enough. Deliver those pies and refill goblets on the double or I’ll show you out the door.”

You had half a mind to bite back but chose to hold the words at bay. In ten minutes, the pie was ready to be collected from the kitchens. As you walked it to the table, you made the decision to confront Geralt but upon approaching his table, found that the Witcher and his bard had vanished, leaving behind some coins for the hospitality.

Geralt would have heard your name being bellowed. He would have seen you answer the call. And yet, he still left?

Typical!

The farmer who had ordered the food found his plate empty as you swerved around his chair and rushed out the wooden door. Turning left, you followed the small path down to where riders often tied their horses, your own being one of them - spotting the familiar silver hair and lute of the bard.

Words appeared to have failed and rational thoughts had abandoned your mind the second you fled.

Your hand flipped the pie out of its casing and with one, well-aimed throw, found its mark. The bard screamed and the Witcher stopped in his tracks instantly stilling for a few seconds.

Then he turned, his jaw clenched. “Did you throw a meat pie at my head?”

You tossed the empty pan over your shoulder. “You bet I did and I’ll do it again.”

The bard at Geralt’s side grabbed his guitar and hid behind the broad-shouldered man fearing that he would be next. “Oh, they’re pissed. What did you do?”

Geralt exhaled as he pulled stray bits of pastry out of his locks. “I’m not sure…”

“Not sure? You fucking ignored me in the tavern! Friends for years and it doesn’t warrant a simple ‘hello’?” You yelled.

Jaskier peered out from behind, “Oh, he’s always like that. We’ve been friends for several weeks and he pretends to hardly know me - such a jest.” He chuckled to himself quite fondly.

Ignoring the brightly coloured song man, Geralt addressed you, now free from the discarded food. He had indeed acknowledged the your presence the minute he set foot in the tavern but found himself reliving old memories instead - some good, others painful.

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me after that business with the striga.”

“The striga?” You repeated, remembering the event he was referring to where he had taken claim over the beasts defeat instead of giving you proper recognition. “That was over a year ago, I was bitter for perhaps a few weeks but no more. But you wouldn’t know that because you ran off with Roach.”

“I didn’t run off - I just - you were injured and I had no reason to hang around while you healed.” The Witcher explained. “In hindsight, I probably should have checked in.”

You nodded vehemently. “And since you didn’t, you’re very deserving of that meat pie.”

“The pie was mean.” Geralt frowned.

“Oh a tale of a strained but beautiful friendship filled with battles and miscommunication - you must regale me with the details.” Jaskier grinned.

You would gladly do so if your old friend would have your company once more. Raising a brow at Geralt, you posed the silent question.

“Don’t you have a job?” Geralt asked.

You squinted in return. “I abandoned my post and stole a pie. I’m surely fired.”

“Fine - but only until the next village.” The Witcher negotiated, knowing full well that his friend would likely be staying for a longer time. He grabbed the reins and pulled himself up on his horse with a small grunt.

You shared a similar grin to the bard and sent a high whistle into the air to call forth your own steed for the journey ahead.

When the horse approached, you took hold of the reins and walked alongside Jaskier.

“While we’re on the topic, I’ll tell you about the time when Geralt fought an ifrit almost fully naked.” You winked and caught the eye roll on your friends face.

Jaskier pulled his guitar to the front and strummed a few strings to start a catchy tune. “Oh, I’m ready for this.”

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #witcher x reader #witcher imagine #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #jaskier imagine #jason x reader #jaskier x reader #geralt of river x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine

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humblebardd · 7 months

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Jaskier, insanely drunk: *licks geralt’s arm*

Geralt, sober: sometimes, I wonder what goes on inside that head of yours.

Jaskier: oh, believe me sweetheart, you do NOT want to know.

#geraskier #the witcher #incorrect quotes #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher incorrect quotes

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sourwolf-sterek32 · 10 months

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Broken Heart

Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.

You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.

Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, violence

Previous Chapter

Chapter 12-

Travelling the Continent constantly looking over your shoulder for danger wasn't so different from when you used to walk The Path with Geralt and Eskel slaying monsters for coin.

You missed those days.

Life had been so much simpler back then.

And you missed your twin brother dearly.

Now, you were running from powers across the Continent who wanted to get to Ciri and use her Elder Blood for their own personal gain. You had lost track of how many different factions were hunting the girl, but it didn't matter. You were never letting anyone touch her.

Recently, you had found yourselves taking refuge in one of Yarpen’s cabins situated on the outskirts of the woods by a frozen lake. You were surprised that he was willing to help you, knowing what kind of heat you would bring to his area if anyone found out, but you also knew that he wanted the hush money for his discretion, so actually, you weren't surprised at all.

Yennefer had followed along with you, Geralt and Ciri, moving from place to place with you guys without complaining. She continued trying to train the young girl with her powers, but as far as you could tell, that training hadn't been very successful.

Jaskier had travelled with you for a while too before meeting a woman named Vespula, and well, he chose to stay with her for the time being while the four of you kept moving. You missed his constant ramblings and his beautiful yet annoying singing, but you understood why he chose to stay, and you couldn't hold that against him.

When nobody came knocking at your door after a couple of months by the lake, you all unknowingly began letting your guard down. Your little cabin that you shared with Geralt and Ciri was starting to feel like home.

It was nice.

It was domestic.

Yennefer lived in the small cabin next door. She never once tried to sleep in the same house as you guys which you were grateful for. Although you were willingly dealing with her being around, you still didn't trust her after everything she had done.

The mage wasn't stupid, she knew that you didn't exactly like her, so she respected your privacy and kept her distance. She taught Ciri magic in the mornings, and you trained Ciri in the afternoons on how to fight and be a Witcher. It worked. You had a good routine and Ciri was happy, so that was all that mattered.

"Thank you for the supplies, Yarpen." You said, taking the last crate of potatoes from his horse cart.

"What would you guys do without me, eh?"

"We would probably starve for one." Ciri chuckled, taking a bite from one of the fresh apples.

"We wouldn't starve." You rolled your eyes, placing the crate down on the ground. "We can still hunt food, but these are greatly appreciated."

"Oh, I forgot to tell ya, our Belleteyn festival is down the valley. You should come." Yarpen offered, looking over at Ciri.

The girls eyes lit up, "I'd love to."

"It's not safe."

"No."

"Bad idea."

You, Geralt and Yennefer all answered at once causing Ciri to glare at you.

Well, at least the adults were on the same page.

"No one's asked about me for months and everyone will be in costume. And... I was born on Belleteyn." Ciri negotiated.

"Ah! You'd have had a shot at bein' May Queen. Except my niece's beard is comin' in nice and full this year." Yarpen laughed with a wink causing Ciri to giggle.

Geralt practically hissed as he walked past Yarpen, glaring at the smaller man who sobered up his laughter real quick before sighing.

"Just say yes, already! About time for a fuckin' thaw round here."

Ciri looked between you and Geralt with a bright smile, but you just shook your head. It was too risky. After everything you had done to make this place a safe haven, you couldn't risk throwing it all away for some stupid festival.

"I promise I'll be safe."

Geralt glanced over at her hesitantly before looking over at you with a questioning look, but you shook your head again.

"We can't risk it."

"Please, I'll be safe. I swear." Ciri practically begged before Yennefer walked over and joined the conversation.

"I guess it probably wouldn't hurt. She's a girl, I think she deserves to have some fun with other people for at least a couple of hours."

You turned and gave Yennefer a pointed look that she knew meant, shut up. But she completely ignored you and turned to look at Ciri.

"Yarpen just told me that he dropped off a bag full of old dresses for us to choose from. C'mon."

Ciri's smile spread further as she took Yennefer’s hand and you watched in disbelief as the two of them rushed into the cabin without further word, leaving you and Geralt standing outside.

"What the fuck just happened?" You said, staring at the closed door before glancing over at Geralt. "Does she think that she's in charge here?"

Geralt sighed, "she is not in charge. But... I guess one night won't be so bad."

Whoa, wait, what?

You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly closed it again. This wasn't a fight worth having. Geralt wouldn't allow this if he didn't think Ciri would be safe, and you trusted Geralt.

Later that night, you were sitting at the kitchen table with Geralt debating whether or not you should go with them to this festival or if you should stay back and watch the house, but Ciri had already decided for you.

"Y/N, I found the perfect dress for you!" The girl shouted from her bedroom.

That caught Geralt's attention. He looked away from the knife he was sharpening and raised his eyebrows at you.

"You're gonna wear a dress?" He asked, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear a dress."

"For good reason. Dresses are impractical. They get in the way. These pants and shirt are much easier to move and fight in." You replied, motioning towards the clothes you were currently wearing.

"I've never been to a Belleteyn festival outside of Cintra before. You know, this one year, Sir Lazlo tried to jump the bonfire in full armour." Ciri continued to say from her room before her door opened. "What do you think?"

You glanced over your shoulder and couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you took in the beautiful long blue dress she was wearing. That colour with her long light hair, it suited her perfectly.

"I think you need to hide your hair and mask your eyes." Geralt muttered, turning his attention back to his knife.

The smile on Ciri’s face instantly vanished and you kicked Geralt’s shin from under the table causing him to glare at you.

"Would it kill you to say, 'You look lovely'?" Ciri mumbled before she stormed off back into her bedroom.

"Ciri." Geralt sighed, but she was already gone. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"It is a bad idea. But she is also just a little girl. All she wanted was for you to approve of her outfit and maybe tell her she looks nice because believe it or not, that girl looks up to you. Your opinion matters to her." You explained, looking at your boyfriend across the table.

"It shouldn't."

"Maybe. But it does. She cares about what you think. Remember that."

You stood up, giving Geralt’s shoulder a small squeeze as you walked past before you knocked her bedroom door softly.

"Hey, kiddo, can I come in? I wanna see that beautiful dress of yours up close and I believe you have one inside for me?" You asked, and a second later the door opened, but Ciri was still frowning a little. "Don't worry about him. He's just a grumpy old man."

"A grumpy old man that can hear you." Geralt grunted from the table.

"You were meant to!" You shouted over your shoulder causing Ciri to chuckle softly before she stepped to the side and let you into her room.

She walked over to her bed and picked up another dress before holding it up for you to see, and it was gorgeous.

It was a simple long dress that looked a little too small for your liking, but the dark blue was a nice colour, you had to admit that.

"What do you think?" Ciri asked cheerfully.

"It might be a bit small. But I can try it."

"It will fit. If there is one thing I am good at, it is fashion. Trust me."

"Trusting you then."

Ciri was right. The dress did fit, and as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. It was beautiful and hugged your curves just perfectly.

“Can you go and grab my sword?”

Ciri nodded, walking out the room and leaving you to admire yourself in the mirror for a few minutes before she returned with your sword in her hand.

"Here. What are you gonna do with it?"

"I am not going anywhere without it. Here, I need your help. Can you pull the back of the dress away from my body?" You asked, taking the sword.

Ciri frowned a little but nodded and stepped behind you before grabbing the back of your dress and holding it away from your skin. You lifted your sword up behind you before carefully sliding it down your back until the tip of the handle was in line with the back of your neck.

"Hold the sword there while I tighten the corset."

"This is so cool." Ciri whispered, holding the sword against your back beneath your dress while you tightened the corset enough to hold the sword in place while still being able to breathe in the meantime.

"Ta-da." You said, holding your arms out as you spun around just to make sure that the sword was secure.

By Ciri's silence yet stunned look on her face, you were going to assume that you looked good and that she liked the sword idea. So, you smiled at the young girl before slipping back on your usual boots because why put on fancy shoes that hurt your feet when the dress was too long to see them anyway?

"Oh, wait, almost forgot the masks." Ciri said, snapping herself out of her shock before she rushed over to the desk and picked up the two masks. "Here."

To your surprise, the mask matched the colour of your dress identically and you had a few questions for Yarpen about why and how he had access to such clothing.

You slipped the mask on over your face while Ciri raised her handheld mask over her own and you both grinned at each other.

Dressing up like this wasn't something you thought you would enjoy. You grew up surrounded by boys. You never once had a girl around, it was always boys. And those boys, you loved them all like brothers, but this was something none of them would enjoy or do with you, so it was nice to let your hair down for once.

"Are you two ready yet?" Yennefer's voice called out from the main room.

You glanced over at Ciri, "ready to go?"

"Come on!" She grabbed your hand and pulled you out the bedroom just as Geralt stood up from his chair and had to do a double take when he saw you.

His mouth parted in silent shock, but no words came out. Those beautiful golden eyes looked you up and down, but he seemed unable to speak.

"Geralt, tell her that she looks lovely." Ciri prompted from beside you.

Geralt blinked, glancing at the girl before focusing back on you and clearing his throat.

"You look lovely, Y/N."

His voice was a little rougher than usual and you smiled taking that as a compliment before you glanced over at Yennefer who was standing in the doorway. She had a nice black dress and matching mask on, and as always, she looked absolutely stunning.

Geralt slipped on a large black cloak, hiding his clothes and white hair before the four of you left the safety of your new home and made your way to the festival.

The sound of music blasting and people laughing could be heard for miles before you finally reached the festival, and you weren't sure how many people you were expecting to be there, but it sure as hell wasn't this many.

Crowds of people covered the area. Many dancing, others standing around with drinks talking and laughing with one another.

"I don't like this." You whispered, leaning closer to Geralt.

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side while you entered the festival, your eyes frantically scanning the mass number of people cautiously.

"Just be on guard." He whispered back.

"Always."

Ciri had left to go dancing with the locals while you, Geralt and Yennefer found a nice quite spot by the ale tent. You watched Ciri as she danced, her smile so bright it was lighting up the whole area.

She was having fun. She was happy. That was the main thing.

It wasn't long before Ciri managed to drag the three of you with her to the maze. What a garden maze had to do with a festival was something you couldn't quite figure out, but Ciri seemed excited to go inside, so you followed.

You lost the girl within the first 30 seconds, Geralt and Yennefer also nowhere to be seen.

Maybe going in a maze wasn't the smartest idea.

You weren't too concerned though until the sound of people’s laughter around you turned into petrified screams.

Oh, that couldn't be good.

Scared civilians rushed past you trying desperately to get out of the maze and away from whatever had them so frightened. You could hear Geralt and Yennefer calling out Ciri's name from somewhere in the maze while Ciri shouted back at them.

Neither of them was with Ciri.

She was alone and in danger.

That realisation made your stomach drop.

Reaching back behind you, your fingers clasped around the handle of your sword before you pulled it out and held it up in front of you. The civilians were still rushing past, screaming and crying at everyone to run, so you did what you always did.

You turned around and marched towards the danger.

The ground beneath you was starting to rumble and you could hear the sound of something snorting and growling. You were close.

"Ciri, where are you?!" You yelled, trying to run through the maze, but your tight dress was restricting your movements. "Fuck it."

You hacked away at the bottom of your dress with the sword. The blade slicing through the blue material until your legs were free from the restraining fabric, the dress now super short, but at least you could run.

"Ciri!" You continued to shout as you ran, turning left and right, but continuously finding yourself facing a dead-end.

Fuck, mazes really sucked.

"Y/N?!" Ciri's voice shouted desperately.

You looked around and realised that searching for Ciri in this maze like this was too time consuming. The tall hedge to your left had a stone feature beside it and you knew that was your best bet.

Without hesitation, you climbed up the stone wall to get the high ground before spotting Ciri a few rows away. The girl was slowly backing away from a large monster and-

Oh, fuck was that a Jackapace?

Its body resembled that of an armadillo, but a hundred times more terrifying. They were blind though but used their sense of smell to navigate and of course, to locate their targets. It's target right now, was Ciri.

It didn't even care about you, it was zeroed in on one thing, and one thing only, that little girl.

You ran along the top of the maze, jumping over rows to get to Ciri, but the Jackapace was already charging at her and you knew you weren't going to reach her in time.

Ciri raised her hand and started chanting in Elder trying to use her magic before Yennefer suddenly appeared behind her and used her own magic, throwing the monster back a few meters to buy some time.

Oh, thank God.

Geralt appeared out of nowhere, slicing his sword along the side of the creature, but it simply whacked the Witcher away with its thick tail, sending Geralt flying through the air and landing on the ground, hard.

That was all the time you needed before you leaped over the last row of the maze and jumped down, spearing your sword through the Jackapace's head, pinning it to the ground.

The monster shrieked in pain but didn't die. It thrashed its body from side to side while you struggled to hold the sword down through its skull. If you released the sword, this monster would go feral and Ciri who was somewhere behind you, would be dead.

"Geralt!" You shouted, using all your strength to keep its head pinned to the dirt. "It's heart. It needs to be stabbed through the heart!"

"Move!"

You yanked your sword out and jumped backwards, trusting Geralt's word blindly. The monster reared up on its back legs, its body now twice as tall as it roared down at you before Geralt suddenly slid under it and stabbed his sword up into its chest, the blade piercing through its heart.

The Jackapace's angered roar died in its throat before Geralt pulled his sword out and the monster collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

You let out a sigh of relief before you turned around to find Yennefer standing beside Ciri who was staring at the dead creature with wide eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, rushing over to the young girl.

"Yeah, yeah." She nodded, unable to pull her eyes away from the monster.

"Hey." You said gently, stepping in front of her and blocking her view of the creature before her green eyes met yours. "I was never going to let that monster get to you. You know that, right?"

"I know." She answered honestly before she looked down at your dress and frowned. "It's ruined."

You chuckled, "dresses were never really my thing. They look better on you."

That caused the girls eyes to brighten a little, a small smile forming on her lips before Geralt walked over to the three of you, scanning you all for injuries before letting out a sigh of relief when he couldn't see any.

"We need to leave." He muttered, motioning for you all to follow him.

Nobody dared to argue or say anything as you followed him through the maze. You were already lost in this damn thing, but Geralt somehow seemed to know his way around and before you knew it, you were walking back through the woods to your cabin.

"You good?" Geralt asked quietly, glancing over at you.

You nodded, "thanks for the backup."

“Thanks for the save.” Geralt replied.

When you returned to the cabin, you all got to quick work with backing up your things because this location was no longer safe. If that monster managed to find Ciri, then more would too. You had to move on.

"We'll find another home." Geralt insisted, looking over at Ciri who was sadly packing away her items.

"I liked this one." She whispered, refusing to look at him.

"We all did." Yennefer's voice responded, walking into your cabin with her bag already packed. "How did that thing find us?"

"A Jackapace hunts by scent. It found Ciri because it knew her." Geralt answered.

"Her scent? How?"

"Vesemir told me that Rience stole Ciri's blood from Kaer Morhen." Geralt began to say, coming to the same realisation as you. "He must have used the blood as a scent marker."

"Great. That's just great. Perfect. Fucking perfect." You swore, leaning your back against the wall as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "So, wherever we go, that fire fucker will find us?"

Geralt glanced over at you sadly, "yes... unless we find him first."

"We draw him out." Ciri suddenly said, bringing your attention to her. "We give him the thing he wants most. Me."

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

A/N- Season 3 is finally out!!! (well part 1 anyway)

So I am back with new chapters as we continued on with y/n's journey with Geralt, Ciri, Yen and our favourite bard! I hope you all enjoy ❤️

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #henry cavill #joey batey

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kingthunder · 1 year

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I was just rewatching the bathtub scene and what I had forgotten was that Jaskier makes this face in reaction to Geralt saying "I will not suffer tonight sober just because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry."

Tell me this isn't a "I'll show you where I'd like to hide my sausage" look.

#once again #there is no heterosexual explanation for this scene #nothing about it is straight #i hate it here i took the queerbait and i'm just flopping around like a landed fish #witcher #geraskier #the bathtub scene

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fawnnbinary · 2 years

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Has to be, he would never call Jaskier wretched if he was sober

#miles.art #doodles #jaskier #geralt #geraskier

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0dde11eth · 2 years

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OK but drunk geralt (and sober geralt too, but he's more subtle) bringing jaskier neat little things he found that will make him smile.

Some common themes are:

A pretty rock

Sweet smelling flowers

a grumpy frog

Teeth or another trophy from a kill

Sparkly shells

Jaskiers favorite treats

If geralt had a tail he would wag it in anticipation every time, hoping for a positive response. Between the item and his huge puppy eyes jaskier can't help but be delighted

#my nonsense #jaskier #geralt #geraskier #how to woo a bard #wolf witchers #cutagens #cute mutagens

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mothpiercings · 2 years

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i wrote this while on vacation then forgot about it for a week anyway

jaskier travels to future modern day where geralt is like 800 years old

after the dragon hunt geralt and jaskier part ways

geralt didn’t mean anything he said ofc, he was just angry and frustrated and he took it out on the one person he could always count on

but his stupid pride won’t let him apologize

even though he feels sorry as soon as the words leave his mouth

he watches jaskier walk away, and knows that he has to give his the bard some time

three years is a lot of time to give but geralt can’t find him

he has literally looked everywhere

oxenfurt, lettenhove, pasoda, hell even cintra (which he vowed to never go back to, but he needs to find jaskier)

the bard is nowhere

five more years pass

geralt still looks for him everywhere

every time there’s a bard with bushy brown hair or blue eyes or a lute with flowers on it, he’s reminded of jaskier and is filled with hope for one quick second

but it’s never jaskier

he hears it in a pub

it’s a no name pub he’s never been to, one he just stopped in after a hunt

and he hears it

the bard in the corner, talking to some patrons, acting as if it’s just casual conversation

“yes, yes, the great bard Jaskier, meletele bless his soul, wrote many ballads in his day, and had he not fallen to horrid fate, we might have more. but alas, we make do.” and he finished with a laugh.

a laugh

geralt storms out of the pub, probably scaring the few townspeople sober enough to notice

he takes on contracts that he knows are too dangerous for him

he goes to kaer morehn every winter and drinks himself near death

the others are worried for him, but bringing it up leads to geralt locking himself in his room for weeks

they don’t talk about it

he isn’t sober for more than a few hours at time for a decade

eventually geralt finds his child surprise

and he knows that he can’t keep this up AND be a decent father figure

he and yennifer sort things out and she helps him sober up

blah blah blah season two happens mainly as it did in netflix cannon except without jaskier

a few hundred years pass

everyone’s alive (all the witchers, yennifer, ciri, magic is the answer to everything)

it feels like forever

geralt never stops thinking about jaskier

everytime music changes or a new instrument is invented, all geralt can think about is how jaskier would respond

he cries the day he found out ab recording

all he can think about is how he would never get to hear jaskier immortalized like this

jaskier would never be remembered

that thought makes him cry harder

it takes yennifer and ciri a week to pull him out of his drunken depressive episode

geralt has settled in pretty well though

he’s generally good at adapting to change (even though the fact that his dog is named roach says otherwise)

he has a job that he mostly enjoys (he’s a park ranger. it’s the most fun he’s ever had and he loves it so much. if anyone ever found out he would kill them and then himself)

he and his family try to get together at least once a month

they got closer after they stopped having to kill to survive

when they finally got to a point where they could just be

they almost always go over to vesemirs (because despite what they say, he’s their dad)

it’s at one of these dinners, as everyone’s saying their goodbyes, a loud crack and swear is heard from the backyard

it’s a swear they haven’t heard in a long time

centuries maybe

then more swearing

geralt pauses and listens to the voice that he knows is dead

this is a nasty trick

the other witcher’s know that something’s wrong as soon as they see geralt’s expression change

they got rid of their swords a long time ago (it was the 70s after someone lambert tried to take them to a festival and almost killed someone. now they stay in the attic)

but they all carry daggers ofc

they grab their weapons and slowly stalk towards the yard

where the voice is still ranting and cursing

still in a language long dead

they open the door

geralt doesn’t belive it

“where the fuck am i, geralt” the bards voice is just like it was that day on the mountain

chapter/story two

none of them move for a beat

they can hear the man’s (jaskiers?) heart beating so fast it could come out of his chest

he doesn’t seem like a fake (dopplers went extinct a few centuries ago anyway)

if this was an imposter, they were too good at it

“jaskier” has the same scent he always has (wild flowers and a field after rain)

jaskier looks at the witchers, all big and scary and totally pointing their daggers at him

he can assume the other men are geralts brothers

though they don’t have a madellian, they each have a large ring with a wolf engraved

don’t ask jaskier how he noticed this

he doesn’t know

geralt stalks closer to the man (the man who was dead for almost 1000 years, the man who shouldn’t be here right now)

he hears a light growl from behind him and eskel lightly gripping his arm

but he has to do this, so he shakes the hand off and continues forward

with each step that geralt takes, jaskier smells… calmer

this confuses geralt, because even though they had been… friends for a long time, they parted ways on awful terms

in a language he hasn’t heard in such a long time, jaskier begins to speak

“geralt…” he repeats, “where the fuck am i?”

it takes a moment for geralt to process, and not just because he barely remembers the language

but the man’s voice sounds so much like jaskiers

and jaskier looks not a hair out of place

he looks. like he was simply plucked out of thin air in 12xx and deposited in 2022

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shy-urban-hobbit · 8 months

Text

"Usual rules of 21 apply. You go bust, you have to either take a shot or do a dare." Jaskier stated for the benefit of everyone sat at the table.

"What are you, 12?" Lambert sneered as Jaskier dealt everyone in.

"Some of us would like to able to eat this month. Last time I played you guys for cash, you cleared me out."

"Not our fault you're a shit player. Besides, we gave it you back."

Jaskier heard Aiden mutter "How generous of you." From next to him and he felt his heart sink a little.

He so wanted his best friend and his boyfriends family to get along. He already knew Geralt and Aiden got along fine and Eskel was his friendly self after his usual shyness at meeting someone one new, always self conscious of his scars. Lambert and Aiden though seemed to be a no go. Jaskier was hoping they'd warm up to each other but three social meet ups later and they'd yet to say two words to each other that weren't sarcastic (Aiden) or borderline insulting (Lambert).

Things started off fairly tame, with most people opting to do shots first (bar Lambert, who was tonights designated driver for those who wanted a ride later and was playing with soda instead). However, a couple of hours and a good amount of Dutch courage later, the dares had started. Ranging from downing a shot glass of extra strength hot sauce that had Eskel making a desperate grab for the milk to Geralt doing a lap of the garden naked, much to the delight of a tipsy Jaskier. Lambert was incredibly happy for the potential blackmail material he was collecting. A still relatively sober Aiden laughed from where he was nursing his own drink, feeling relatively smug at having only suffered half as many losing hands as the others.

"Ok. Final hand, then I'm calling it a night." Eskel slurred from where he was swaying dangerously in his seat.

"Hmmm." Geralt agreed from where he was slumped against Jaskier, the brunette grinning like a madman as he sat twirling a small paper cocktail umbrella in his fingers (because of course he had cocktail umbrellas in his house).

"Ok, ok, ok." Jaskier stated, slamming the umbrella down and holding a finger up imperially, "Dare this time iiiiiiiissss....loser has to kiss Lambert!"

The table erupted.

"Why the fuck am I the dare?!'

"Eeeew!"

"Don't care if he's adopted. I'm not kissing my brother, Jask."

"I never said you had to kiss him on the mouth, you perv!" Jaskier sniffed "And it's only if you lose!"

The others all looked to Lambert, who was also the designated dealer at this point, "Fucking fine. Let's get this over with."

Aiden stared at his cards in disbelief, ignoring the wolf whistles and cheers, "You're fucking kidding me."

23. Bust.

"Oh, get over yourself." Lambert snarled back.

"You guys don't - don't have to.' Eskel managed to get out, looking between them like he was expecting a fight to break out.

Aiden shrugged and downed the rest of his whiskey, "Dare's a dare. Just make it quick."

"Not going to be a problem."

"Wait, wait!" Jaskier called, grinning impishly, "New rule. Aiden's not related, he does have to kiss on the mouth!"

"Jaskier." Lambert let a warning growl slip into the word but didn't get any further as a pair of lips pressed against his then swiftly retreated.

"There. Done." Aiden said fishing his phone out of his pocket, "I'm calling a cab."

"You're over on Beech, right?" Lambert asked.

Aiden nodded.

"I'll drive you. It's on my way home anyway."

"You don't have to."

Lambert jangled his keys, "Designated driver. Remember?"

"Still. Thanks."

Both of them tried to ignore the way Jaskier was excitedly jabbing Geralt in the ribs with his elbow.

"Esk, you coming?" Lambert received no reply from his brother who, it turns out, had wandered over to the couch at some point in the last few minutes and passed out.

"Let him crash here." Geralt muttered, "Won't wake him now."

"Jaskier, I'll see you Monday." Aiden said, giving his friend a tight squeeze and Geralt a couple of solid back pats before looking back at Lambert, "Ready when you are."

The door to his flat hadn't even clicked shut before Lambert was kissing Aiden soundly. The other man humming into it happily.

"Fuck me, that was torture." Lambert said, making his way into the kitchenette and grabbing two beers from the fridge handing one to Aiden before flopping down onto the couch. Aiden hummed in agreement, taking a swig as he leaned over the back of the couch, wrapping an arm around Lambert and resting his chin on his shoulder. Watching as the other pulled up the next episode of the series they'd started binging.

"You know we're going to have to tell them eventually, right?"

"I know." Lambert butted his head against Aiden's affectionately, "I just..."

"Just?" Aiden prompted, taking another mouthful of beer while Lambert got his thoughts in order.

"I'm not embarrassed or anything. Everyone in my family is already up in each others business and you were already friends with Jaskier. I just - I just want it to stay like this for a little longer. Just us two, nobody else."

Aiden pressed a kiss to Lambert's cheek, "I get that."

"Plus you do realise Jaskier will be even more insufferable when we do? He'll say it was down to that little stunt of his tonight."

"Eh. If he can remember it, let him have it. I know I'd prefer it to the true story of how we met getting out." Aiden said with a laugh as he released Lambert and vaulted over the couch, landing next to him with far more grace than a man clutching an almost full beer bottle should possess before placing it on the coffee table.

"Ugh. I think that's the first time I've cheated to lose! I feel dirty."

"Yeah?" Lambert gave a grin as he moved until Aiden was laid out on the couch underneath him. The others hands already sneaking up the back of his shirt, "How dirty, exactly?"

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert #secret relationship

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 1 year

Note

2, 14, 28, ship of your choice!

2. “My head keeps spinning—oh wait, it might actually be my feet.”

14. “It burns!”

28. “I’m so tired.”

Here's some fluffy, vaguely post-season 2, vaguely alternate timeline where everyone is happy and alive at Kaer Morhen Geraskefer! CW for a very drunk (but happily so) bard.

There aren’t many quiet nights to be had at Kaer Morhen, what with the half dozen witchers, two sorceresses, a tiny menace of a former princess, and a larger menace of a bard inhabiting it this winter. But tonight, Yennefer is determined to have one. She has a book she borrowed from Eskel, which is turning out to be a mildly amusing adventure story. She has a bottle of wine Vesemir was kind enough to dig out of storage for her, which will taste decent if she drinks enough of it. She has a crackling hearth, a warm blanket, and a comfortable chair.

It’s the closest thing to peace and quiet she’s experienced in quite a while.

Until she hears the sound of loud, obnoxious singing in the hallway. Yennefer takes note of what page she’s on and sets down the book, just as the door flies open and Jaskier comes stumbling into the room, arms spread wide. “Yennefer, darling! I’ve missed you so!”

His face is flushed, his doublet is in disarray, and his eyes are glassy. Yennefer looks between him and Geralt, who is holding onto the back of Jaskier's doublet to keep him upright. “What did you let him get into now?”

Geralt looks aggrieved. “What makes you think I let him do anything?”

“He left me unattended with Lambert,” Jaskier says proudly.

"I take it Lambert gave you White Gull?" Yennefer asks, glaring at Geralt.

“He did!” Jaskier looks very pleased, like this is some grand achievement of his.

The amount of things that Jaskier has put in his mouth after explicitly being told that they might kill him will never fail to amaze Yennefer. She spares a thought to his poor parents who had to ensure that he survived toddlerhood. “If you die, bardling, it better not be in here.”

“He’s not going to die.” Geralt guides him to sit on the edge of Yennefer’s bed. “He just had a sip.”

Jaskier giggles and leans against Geralt’s side. “My head keeps spinning—oh, wait, it’s my feet! Geralt, why are my feet spinning? Is this some more interdimensional bullshit? Because if it is, I need another drink.”

“No, you don’t,” Geralt and Yennefer say at the same time.

“What are you doing here?” Yennefer adds, turning her attention to Geralt, since she doesn’t expect sensible conversation from Jaskier.

“He missed you.” Geralt tries and fails not to let his lips twitch.

“I wanted to say goodnight to my favorite witch.” Jaskier attempts to bat his eyelashes at her, which ends up looking like he has something in his eye. “And once I said goodnight to Triss, I figured you were right down the hall.”

Geralt and Yennefer exchange eye rolls as Jaskier chortles at his own cleverness.

Yennefer waits until the bard has stopped giggling before she says, “I’m always happy to see my favorite bard.”

“Aww, Yennefer.” His eyes go soft.

“I should portal to Cidaris to see Valdo tomorrow.”

Jaskier’s squawk echoes off the high stone ceiling of Yennefer’s bedchamber. He clutches his hands to his chest like he’s been hit by an arrow. “Spurned by the woman I love! The betrayal, it burns! Geralt, I’m distraught. Hold me.” He throws himself sideways, but misses Geralt entirely and nearly falls off the bed. Only Geralt’s witcher fast reflexes stop him from cracking his head open on the floor.

Geralt pulls Jaskier safely into his lap, peering around him at Yennefer. “Do you have anything to help him sober up? Otherwise, he’ll be hungover for days.”

“I don’t know.” Yennefer tries to look annoyed, but she can’t quite hide her amusement. “Then he won’t learn a lesson. Anyway, if he’s hungover, he’ll sleep all day. Think of how quiet it will be.”

Jaskier, who is busy nuzzling at Geralt’s shoulders, doesn’t seem to hear her.

“You’ve never seen him hungover,” Geralt says with the expression of a man reliving untold horrors. “It’s mostly whining and puking.”

“Fine.” With a put upon sigh, Yennefer crosses to the table where she keeps an assortment of potions. “Here.” She tosses a bottle to Geralt, who catches it deftly. “I brewed this to give to you if you take too many potions, but it should work well enough for a bard who can’t hold his liquor.”

Geralt uncorks it with his teeth and offers it to Jaskier, who leaves off trying to crane his neck so he can nuzzle the witcher’s pectorals long enough to obligingly take a sip.

“Blegh.” Jaskier makes a face. “I liked the White Gull better.”

“Tough shit.” Geralt presses a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s temple. “You’re never getting a sip of White Gull again.”

Jaskier makes a whining noise, sagging back against Geralt. “I’m so tired.”

Yennefer loves this ridiculous man so much and she has absolutely no idea why. That being said, she's more than ready to get back to her quiet, peaceful evening. She crosses the room to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodnight, bardling.” She leans around him to brush her lips over Geralt’s. “Goodnight, Geralt.”

Geralt knows a dismissal when he hears one, so he turns his head to press a kiss to her wrist before he stands, scooping Jaskier up in his arms. “Come on, let’s get you to bed so Yenn can get back to her book.”

“Geralt, you cad.” Jaskier grins up at Geralt in what he clearly thinks in a rakish manner. “Carrying me off to ravish me?”

“You just said you were tired.”

“I’m never too tired to be ravished.”

“You’re going to be asleep by the time we get back to our room.”

“Am not!”

Yennefer watches them go, flicking her hand to close the door behind them. With a shake of her head, she settles herself back in her comfortable chair in front of the fire, takes a sip of wine, and picks her book back up.

A minute later, she hears Jaskier’s snoring from all the way down the hall.

***

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

#the witcher #geraskefer #geralt x jaskier x yennefer #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #ghost's writing #prompt fills

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samstree · 1 year

Text

(more on sober!jaskier)

Geralt sneaks into their room nearly on tiptoe. The night is dark and quiet enough that any tiny creak of the floorboards makes his heart flutter. Luckily, the fireplace burns dimly, so he doesn’t need to light the oil lamp and make any more noises.

The scent of the strong white gull clings to his clothes, his hair, his breath. He doesn’t want to wake Jaskier like this, with every part of him reeking of alcohol. The only problem—the world just won’t stand still.

Geralt blinks hard against the swaying of the floor. His hand slips on the handle, and the door shuts loudly.

“Geralt?”

Fuck.

He freezes like a child being caught.

The lump on the bed moves, and then there is the vague shape of Jaskier sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

“Um…” Geralt finds his throat inexplicably dry.

“You are back,” Jaskier says, voice deep from sleep. “Had a good time?”

“Good.”

Geralt doesn’t move. The door frame digs into his back uncomfortably.

“Good, then, that it was good.” Fading embers illuminate Jaskier from one side, his hair messy and smile soft. The blankets pool on his lap, warm and inviting. “Lambert and Eskel? Also good?”

“Also good.” Geralt nods.

“We are saying the word too many times,” Jaskier teases, patting the space next to him. “If all is good, you should come to bed now. Can’t let your brothers hog all your time. Your bard misses you too.”

A distressed sound escapes Geralt’s throat. He breathes through the dizzying rush in his head and closes his eyes for a second.

“I…” Geralt hesitates. “We were drinking. A lot.”

“Oh.”

“Thought you’d be asleep by now. Didn’t mean to be drunk around you.”

“It’s okay,” Jaskier says, though it sounds like a lie.

Even years after Jaskier put down the bottles and never picked them up again, there is still that tension within him. When he’s in a tavern, or a banquet, where wine is poured and refilled freely. He never speaks of it, but it’s difficult. Geralt can tell, the tightness of his shoulders and the reservation in his eyes. Jaskier is lonely in company like this, when he’s the only one who cannot drink.

Geralt never wants him to feel lonely again.

“I got carried away.” Geralt winces, blinking to sober himself up, but the white gull is strong. Even his fast metabolism can’t do much within minutes. “I’ll sleep somewhere else.”

“Wait, no,” Jaskier calls out. He doesn’t need to raise his voice for Geralt to stop in his tracks. “There is no need. Just come here.”

Jaskier shifts on their bed, hugging his knees. There is a certain vulnerability in the way he curls into himself, a particular gentleness. And Jaskier is always the most convincing when he’s gentle.

So Geralt has to oblige.

He moves while the room swims before his eyes. It’s hard to find his balance but he manages. He ends up sitting at the edge of the bed, not touching Jaskier, turned slightly away for the stink in his breath.

“I know you don’t like it when I drink,” Geralt says.

Jaskier blinks, confused. “When have I said that?”

“You don’t need to. I can tell when people are drinking. You look…lonely, even in a crowd.”

Geralt suddenly finds his hands the most interesting thing. He wriggles them in his lap, the sensation of his skin strange.

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier’s fingers are cool against Geralt’s cheek and soothing when they tidy the loose strands at his temple. “But you see, you are not people.”

“Hmm?”

When Geralt looks at Jaskier, there is only patience in the way his head tilts, and only amusement at the corners of his eyes.

“Yes, it can be hard when I’m surrounded by those who are less understanding,” Jaskier explains, the movement of his hand not stopping. Geralt leans into his palm, letting Jaskier cup his cheek. “But there’s them, and there’s you. You are not the same.”

“I’m not?”

Perhaps Geralt does get slower when affected by alcohol, because Jaskier’s eyes are crinkling beautifully like he thinks Geralt is being silly again.

“No, you are not. You never fill my cup along with yours and pressure me to drink. You never use drunkenness as an excuse to be rude to me. You never make me feel bad for staying sober, for not being fun enough.”

“I’d never,” Geralt says, nearly feeling offended at the idea.

“No, you’d never,” Jaskier continues. “On the contrary, you are the one to take away the cup forced into my hand and save me from those impossible situations. You defend me, but not with your swords. You protect me, just by being there.”

“It’s all you ask. Of course I’m there.” Geralt catches Jaskier’s hand in his. “So you are not disappointed?”

Jaskier’s smile is laced with a hint of melancholy, his eyes casting low. “How can I? I’ve long since forgotten how it feels like to be disappointed in you,” he answers. “And it’s my fight. I’ve never asked you to charge into battle for me. Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean I expect you to do the same. I understand it’s different for you—for everyone, really. Besides, you haven’t seen your family for months. You deserved the fun.”

“We did rather have fun.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s hand in reassurance, his chest now lighter.

“Was it Lambert’s homebrew again?”

Geralt’s lips stretch into a lopsided grin. “It was.”

“My, my, you must still have quite a buzz.” Jaskier returns with an equally big grin of his. “It’s okay. I like it when you are tipsy, with all the easy smiles and free cuddles, and you let yourself get giddy when I call you sweet names. I know your soft side, dearest, but even I don’t see it often—oh yes, just like this.”

It’s really the dearest that does Geralt in. Of all the sweet names, it’s the one that makes Geralt preen. His bard is easy with his affections, throwing dears and darlings to all who are close to his heart, but then, there is Geralt.

Dearest.

Perhaps he is different, after all.

Suddenly, his cheeks are hot for entirely different reasons. He looks at Jaskier’s knowing expression and can’t help feeling too proud.

“I am, aren’t I?” Geralt finds himself giddy indeed. “Your dearest?”

“Yes, you are,” Jaskier sighs softly before leaning in to press a kiss on Geralt’s cheek. “You are also very much drunk, so take off your clothes and get under these covers. I am not going to undress an uncooperative witcher all by myself, thank you very much.”

With that, Geralt lets out a contented hum and follows Jaskier’s directions. Despite his words, Jaskier still helps him, their limbs bumping awkwardly when Geralt nearly trips over his trousers. He squirms when Jaskier’s touch becomes ticklish on his tingling skin.

“Alright, just lie down,” Jaskier says, throwing his hands up. “Not tickling you when you are giggly already.”

“I’m not giggly,” Geralt insists. He sinks into the comfortable bed and drags Jaskier on top of him, nearly falling asleep just like this.

“Not giggly. Just happy,” Jaskier agrees, his fingers running through Geralt’s hair. “Happy, and dear to my heart.”

With his eyes closed, Geralt quietly corrects him, “the most dear.”

“Yes, the most dear, the most special,” Jaskier whispers as if revealing a secret. “It’s you. Only you, my dearest, my best person.”

“And you…” Geralt slurs his words, drifting off. “You too…”

He needs to tell Jaskier how dear he is tomorrow, how strong he is underneath all the gentleness. Jaskier must know already, that Geralt is in awe of his strength with every day that passes, every small milestone, every anniversary.

He is in awe when Jaskier is simply here, leaving his haunted past behind.

For now, Geralt is content just being tipsy, half-asleep, and dearest to his bard.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #sobriety #alcoholism

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