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#the truth is out. i don’t like her w geralt i like her w ME!!!!! 😭
lesbianlenas · 9 months
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as i’m watching this i’m like why do i want triss to be a lesbian in the show when i romanced her as geralt when i played witcher 3 & now i’m realizing it’s bc i want to date her & that’s why i was ok w her being heterosexual w geralt in witcher 3 bc i was geralt 😭 now that i can’t romance her as him i’m like ok what if she kissed a woman 😳 lmfao….
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inber · 3 years
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promises woven, worn
A/N: Trying to fight the writer’s block monster. Just some Geraskier fluff, very tame. CW for drinking. Enjoy! 2.1k
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Never in all his many, many years alive on the Continent had Geralt seen a pout as tremendously pronounced as the one that painted Jaskier's features, simultaneously pathetic and guilt-inducing at once. One would think that Geralt had poured ink all over Jaskier's favourite doublet, or snapped the strings of his lute. Instead, Jaskier had merely been forbidden from shadowing Geralt on the last leg of his leshen hunt.
“I've never seen a leshen, though!” Jaskier whined, not for the first time.
“Good. Should keep it that way.” Geralt buckled the strap of one of his saddlebags closed.
“But the songs! You're robbing me, dearest, you truly are. I swear to be good, I swear to Melitele that--”
“No. For the last fucking time, Jaskier, I am dealing with a young leshen. Doesn't know how to control its powers, or what it really wants. Even if you're standing two hundred yards away, the damned thing can command a wolf to go for your neck, and what will you do then?”
Jaskier looked down at his boots, scuffing the hay on the stable floor. “Prob'ly die. A bit.”
“Exactly.” Geralt mounted Roach easily. Jaskier didn't glance up, but he did sidle out of the way. All Geralt needed to do was squeeze his thighs, urge Roach into a trot...
Instead, Geralt sighed deeply. “Listen. After the hunt, there's sure to be a feast. I usually don't stick around for them. The clans each have their traditions, speciality dishes, that sort of thing. If I say we can attend, will you stop fucking moping?”
“Ooh!” Jaskier blossomed immediately, all wide blue-wash eyes and clasped hands, grinning in a way that made Geralt feel warm in his middle. “I'd so love that. Yes, please, Geralt. I'll wait for your return. What to wear? What does one wear to a feast on Skellige? That nice herbalist – what was her name? I'll go talk to her--”
“I'll see you soon, Jaskier.” Geralt said, smirking. “Be good.”
“And you be safe! Come back to me!” As always, Jaskier stood and waved until Geralt was out of sight. It was an odd ritual, Geralt thought, but it never failed to bolster his spirits. He didn't completely understand why.
-----------------
Staring up at the plume of smoke, Geralt wondered if a bonfire could reach up so tall that it'd scorch the sky. It was that simple thought that made him realise that he was more than a little tipsy, courtesy of the plum wine, strong as the Skelligers liked to brew it. He also noted that he felt content and sated for the first time in weeks.
Across from him, Jaskier was chatting animatedly with a pair of warriors, no doubt learning lore first-hand. Or perhaps they were discussing the intricacies of Geralt's hunt. Truth be told, Geralt was rather proud that the leshen hadn't needed to be killed; if the village honoured a yearly sacrifice, then the forest would protect them in turn. It was the best outcome. Leshen fights were brutal, and in place of death and waste, now there would be prosperous life.
Sounded a bit like romantic nonsense, actually. Geralt was clearly spending too much time with Jaskier, or at least absorbing more of his never-ending monologue. Glancing over the clearing again, he watched the firelight stroke shadows across the bard's sun-tanned skin. He drank more wine.
“Master witcher?” A small voice interrupted his reverie, and Geralt glanced at the girl who had approached him. She was flanked by two of her friends, all of them visibly nervous. Out of habit, Geralt hunched his shoulders down, shrinking into himself.
“Yes?”
“We were wonderin'... that is, if you've had your fill of roasted pork, we was wondering if you wanted to make bison grass rings with us?” The girl smiled crookedly, fidgeting.
“Rings, huh?” Geralt returned the smile. “What does that entail?”
“Weavin', and you thread special beads on 'em, if you want. We can teach you!”
“It's real fun!” The child to the right of the leader found her courage.
“Well, you'll have to go easy on me. Take it a bit slow. I have big, clumsy fingers.” Geralt held out his hands. The girls giggled over the size of them, and then grabbed at them, pulling him up. He allowed himself to be puppeteered. Their enthusiasm was sweet.
Geralt had always had a soft spot for kids; those too young to be truly frightened of him, or those who could sense the gentle truth of his disposition. Soon he found himself surrounded by youths, bossy and noisy. Geralt laughed with them, and began to weave as he was taught.
--------------
Jaskier was capable of listening to his companion's triumphant tale about an ice giant – or was it a troll? – and staring doe-eyed at Geralt at the same time. He was talented that way. As a child poked daisies haphazardly into Geralt's long, loose hair, Jaskier sighed into his wine.
“...and thwack, his head fell to the ground. Hah! It was a great fight, bard. You should make a song out of it.”
“Huh? Oh, yes, quite. It has all the makings of an epic.” Jaskier turned back to the two men, hiding his fluster by picking at some grapes on his plate.
The warrior who had been telling the story chuckled lowly. “Does he share your affections?”
“Who?”
“Who, he says. As if we are blind.” The man nudged his friend, and the two of them guffawed. Jaskier felt his ear-tips redden.
“I am rather obvious, aren't I?” Jaskier said, running a hand through his hair. “Can't help it. Specially when he's like this, all... relaxed, kind. People just see the swords. They don't know him, not truly.”
“Sounds like you're in deep, little bard.” The other warrior smirked, clapping Jaskier on the back so hard he spilled some wine. “Do not fret. I think he's getting there.”
“You do?”
“Oh, aye. Has a look about him, you know? As if he's trying to figure out a puzzle, but he can't make the pieces fit. So close.” The man drank from his flagon.
“Huh.” Jaskier said, and then glanced back at Geralt.
“Perhaps he'll give you one of his rings.” The first warrior spoke, his voice light.
“I very much doubt that.” Jaskier tripped over his words, blushing deeper, eyes darting between the men. “He may not have an academy education as I do, but I am certain he's familiar with your customs. Declaring his love in the middle of a feast is, uh, not his style.”
“If you say so.” Both of his company rose, one after the other. “Wonder why he's coming over here, then?”
“What?” Jaskier squeaked, whirling around. Geralt was indeed wandering over, new mug of drink in hand. Jostling him good-naturedly, the warrior duo departed, leaving Jaskier with nerves in his mouth and fiddly fingertips.
“Good feast, yes?” Geralt said, sitting heavily down on the empty log beside Jaskier. “You having fun?”
“Lots of fun.” Jaskier flashed a quick smile. “These are good people, and they do like to chat. And the food, food's good, as you said. They do like a strong drink, don't they? Whoo!”
Geralt laughed, and swallowed some of his own beverage. “Told you you'd like it.”
“You were right. Just this once, though.” Jaskier couldn't look at Geralt for too long, not flower-crowned and glossy-eyed as he was. It made him ache. “So, uh, what were you doing with the young folk?”
“Hmm? Oh! Yes, that reminds me.” Geralt fumbled with his pocket.
“Geralt, what are you--”
“Under the eye of the Gods, I ask you, Jaskier, to be my companion. To uh--” Geralt squinted at the girls some distance away, and they gesticulated. “Right, yes. To fight with me, to walk with me. Accept this small token?”
Opening his hand, Geralt offered the band sat there; it was clumsily woven, threaded with one yellow bead and a reddish stone. Jaskier stared at it, and realised that around them, silence had descended. Those close enough to witness were watching this exchange.
Fuck. Jaskier had given Geralt more credit than he deserved, apparently. In this clan, the gesture was one step away from a life-bond. Geralt, the drunk numpty, was claiming Jaskier as his before the heavens, witnessed by descendants of Freya.
“Geralt, I'm not sure--” Jaskier whispered.
“I think I made it a lil' big. I'm sorry.” Geralt fixed his gaze with Jaskier's, lazy-hazy gold halos around rounded-out pupils, and Jaskier's heart did something odd in his chest.
How could he refuse? It'd sully Geralt's reputation, make him look foolish in the eyes of those he'd just saved. Jaskier would simply have to explain things later, and hope that the rumours would not spread too far.
“Of course.” Jaskier said, his voice shaking. “Under the eye of the Gods, I accept.”
“Oh, s'good, thank you.” Geralt said. Then he took Jaskier's right hand, and slid the grass-ring onto his middle finger. Around them, people raised their mugs and cheered. Geralt only grinned, and Jaskier couldn't help but desperately adore him – Geralt, drunk and accidentally idiotic, his lips plum-stained, his hands dirt-streaked.
The only thing left to do was drink, and Jaskier sank gratefully into the task. The feast blurred around them. He didn't want the awkward dawn to come.
-----------------
Obnoxiously, the sun did rise upon the pair of them, huddled under furs in a room spared by the baker's wife. It was cramped, but it was warm and soft, and the perfect place to wake up to a malicious hangover. Jaskier reluctantly unpeeled himself from where he'd been draped across Geralt's chest, groaning. Geralt made a sound of discontentment.
“Fuck.” Jaskier cradled his head in his hands. “Jug of water on your right. Pass it, would you?”
Geralt obliged, and then stretched, luxuriant and cat-like. Jaskier drank and side-eyed him. He felt something brush against the jug, and—oh.
The ring was still on his finger.
“I don't envy you.” Geralt purred. “Human-made liquor isn't strong enough to ruin my day, but witchers aren't immune to hangovers. Lambert makes the most disgusting and potent vodka.”
“Right, yes. Lambert, disgusting.” Jaskier repeated stupidly.
“Exactly!” Geralt laughed.
“What? Um.” Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut as if he could clear the headache that way. “Geralt, we have to talk. About last night.”
“What about it?” Geralt accepted the jug, took a few gulps.
“The ring you gave me. I am not sure what the girls told you, but, um. It's rather important. I couldn't say at the time – too many eyes upon us – but you... well, you essentially declared your intentions to me. To, uh, keep me. Court me. That sort of thing.”
Geralt blinked stickily at him.
“I know it was a mistake, so we'll just... fuck, we'll hope nobody speaks much of it. If we're lucky, the word won't--”
“Wasn't a mistake.”
Jaskier whipped his head sideways, saucer-eyed. “I beg your pardon, what did you just say?”
“The girls that taught me. They said you give a ring to someone you want to stay with, always. Someone you trust, and who trusts you. Someone important. I knew the colours – yellow for promise, red for protection. And I knew who I wanted to give my ring to.”
“Really?” Jaskier's voice pitched an octave higher.
“But if, if you think it's a mistake, I understand. You're the best man that I know, Julek, and I wanted to know you more. I'm better at actions than... words. I thought maybe you'd think it was a bit romantic.” Geralt looked down at the fur, picking at it.
“I just—I never thought—”
“You're right. It's stupid. I'm sorry. I hope you weren't embarrassed. I'm sorry.”
“Shut up, would you, darling? I never hoped, that's more accurate. Geralt, we've been friends for years, but I knew there was more there. I just didn't think you were ready, or perhaps that you even wanted to change things.” Jaskier gently cupped Geralt's chin, chasing his eyes.
“Really?” Geralt whispered.
“Oh, if I could go back in time with this knowledge! Geralt, dearest, I'd have leapt at you like the lovesick man I am, kissed you stupid, right in front of everyone. I wish I had.”
Geralt smiled slowly, revealing a hint of pearly fang. “You could... do it now. If you wanted. No one's watching, but I'll enjoy it the same.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
So Jaskier did, carefree and besotted, laughing into Geralt's sweet mouth, crushed daisies caught between his curled fingers.
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innaminitus · 4 years
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Lake
Pairing: Geralt x reader
Request: so Geralt saved y/n’s father many years ago and he called the law of surprise?? The surpsise being of course y/n and Geralt comes for her may years later when she is an adult and a sexy woman? and smut? or somethign like that THANKS! (from anon)
Warnings: smut 
Word count: 2221
A/N: toss a coin to your witcher is my new jam also i am very proud of poland finally having a decent witcher series (ale żebrowski na zawsze w naszych sercach) 
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You were kneeling on the ground and just staring at him. That was basically your favourite thing to do since he called the law of surprise and took you from your home on your 23rd birthday two weeks ago. Just in time, as it turned out, since a day later the entire town you’ve lived in was slaughtered.
You just liked to look at him, that’s all. He was very handsome, after all. It was the only selfishness you could allow yourself for.
“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, his eyes still closed.
Your body didn’t even bother to blush. You weren’t intimidated by him.
“Because I can.”
A ghost of a smile showed on his face, but he still didn’t open his eyes.
“See anything interesting?”
Lots of things.
“A bug in your hair.” You reached to his silver, tangled hair and picked up a beetle that lost its way from the grass. The bug run away to the bushes. “I’ll go pick up some berries.”
You stood up and fixed your dirty dress.
“I’ll go with you,” he sighed and began to stand up, but you stopped him.
“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself,” you said, already turning away and walking to the berry bushes.
“Hmm. I doubt that…”
It wasn’t a long walk, barely five minutes away from the clearing you stopped on for the night. Last evening you’ve seen them almost bursting with juice and couldn’t stop thinking about them since.
Once you’ve reached them you kneeled and started to pick them up, carefully, not to squash them with your fingers. One after another they landed in your basket, which was soon full. You stood up, stretching your back, hurting from bending too long.
“Are you done?”
You didn’t hear him walk, so, naturally, you got scared from the sudden voice behind you. You jumped, and, naturally, tripped, falling with your face right in the bushes full of berries. And, naturally, throwing your basket at the man.
With a squeak you turned, trying to sit up, and when you managed to do so, you took the hand Geralt offered.
“I’m sorry, you scared me–“
A short laugh escaped your lips when you saw him; his hair tinted purple from the berries that you threw on him, with parts of the fruits on his face and clothes.
He wasn’t having as much fun as you, even though you were whole in berries and for sure had twigs in your hair.
“We need to go,” he just said, his jaw clenched as he wiped his face with a hand.
“I need a bath.” You wrinkled your nose. “And you, too.”
“We’ll stop at some lake or something, but now we need to go. I don’t want to spend another night here.”
*
The lake wasn’t very far, but it was far enough for the both of you to start stinking like fermented fruits and sweat. It was hot, not a single cloud on the sky, and even the protection the trees gave you wasn’t enough. Roach was barely walking in the heat, so you haven’t had the heart to ride on her.
You almost smelled the water with your senses, and run to the direction of the small lake as soon as you saw it, kicking off your shoes on the way.
The water was clear and inviting, and you forced yourself not to jump in it fully clothed. You tugged on the ribbons of your dress, but couldn’t manage to untie the corset-like back. It must’ve tangled at night.
“Geralt, can you help me with this?” You looked behind at the man guiding the horse to the water.
He silently walked to you and began to work with the ribbons. The feeling of his breath on your neck made you shiver. It seemed as if the day became even hotter.
You were trying to seduce him ever since you saw him, but he seemed not to notice it. You just weren’t sure if you were that bad at it, or if he just wasn’t interested in you. You very much hoped for the first one.
“Done,” he murmured, freeing you from the last ribbon and you didn’t hesitate to grab the material of the dress and throw it over your head, leaving you as naked as the gods have made you.
Your long hair almost touched your bottom, still leaving a nice view at it while you walked to the lake. You haven’t heard him move and the thought that he was watching you made the hotness between your legs more noticeable.
Cool water soothed your sunburnt skin, and you dived into it whole, sighing with relief, watching the berry stains melt into nothingness. The lake was shallow, in the deepest spot the water reached only your shoulders. You turned in the water to Geralt.
“Are you coming or what?” You asked, flicking your wet hair from your face.
“I’m fine.”
“You stink and have berries in your hair.”
“And I wonder whose fault is that….” he sighed and rolled his eyes, but eventually started to undress.
One layer after another the leathery parts of his clothes were abandoned on the ground, and when he took off the shirt you could shamelessly admire his muscly chest and arms. Gods he was so handsome… How could every part of him be so perfect?
“Turn around.”
It took you a second to realize he was talking to you. You blinked and your sight fell on his hand, untying the leather trousers.
“Did you turn around when I was naked?” You raised one eyebrow and immerged almost whole into water, leaving only your eyes and nose above the panel.
A smirk was all you got as an answer, but it was enough to tell you that he did not turn his gaze away.
“Y/N…” His voice was warning, but the smirk was still on his face.
“Fine.” You turned away, waving your hands in the water. “But that’s not fair.”
You heard him walk into the water and excitement overtook your body. That was probably your biggest achievement in the art of seducing; to have him naked not so far away from you.
“Can I turn now?”
“Yes.”
He was much closer than you expected him to be, but still what felt like miles away. You rinsed your hair, frustrated, doubting there was any way to actually be closer to him.
“You have leaves in your hair…” He smiled, watching you try to wash them out. “I’ll help you.”
He swam closer, and you hoped he didn’t see your blush. The clear water was transparent, and you could swear you saw him stare at your breasts for at least a second.
His fingers were more delicate than you would expect them to be when he took out the twigs and leaves, but it was the closeness of his warm chest that made you shiver. You wanted to kiss every bit of his skin, lick every scar and pain.
Your fantasies took too long. He already moved away.
Shit.
You immerged into water completely, hiding your frustration away. It was never going to happen, you had to face the truth. He wasn’t interested.
Unless he was.
You stood straight and swam a little further from him.
“Toss a coin to your Witcher,” you started to sing a song he hated so much. “Oh Valley of Plenty…”
He turned to you with anger.
“Stop it.”
“Oh Valley of Plenty, oooh.” You were swimming further and further.
“Y/N, I’m warning you, stop singing this cursed song.”
“Make me.” You smiled cockily and turned to swim. “Toss a coin to your–“ You squeaked as he swam to you incredibly fast and grabbed your waist from behind, his fingers on your lips silencing you.
“Shush.”
You could feel his scars on your stomach as he was holding you this tight. One step you could blame on clumsiness was enough to have your back fully pressed on his wide chest and his chin in your hair. You froze like this, afraid that any movement would cause him to let you go.
You were blissfully aware of every inch on your bodies touching; from the hand on your lips, his face in your hair, the hand on your belly, your back against his chest to the hard length pressed to the small of your back.
Hardlengthhardlengthhardlenght. Keep calm, Y/N.
His breathing was heavy, as if he was fighting with himself. You wanted him to lose the fight.
He twitched and quickly let you go. Only you didn’t plan on giving up.
You turned, put your hands on his shoulders and lifted yourself up, to press your lips onto his. Then again. And everything would be perfect if he only gave you the kisses back.
“Geralt–“
“Stop it,” he said, but didn’t push you away.
“Why?” Your faces were still so close your lips were touching when you talked.
“This is wrong.” He moved slightly, but you moved with him. “I am your guardian.”
“I don’t need a guardian. I can take care of myself.”
“Y/N–“
“Say you don’t want me and I’ll never touch you again,” you said, backing just a millimetre to be able to look him in the eyes. He just watched you, his jaw clenched, muscles working. “You can’t.” You smiled for a second.
“I can’t,” he admitted in a husky voice.
Your insides twirled.
Dear gods…
“Then why fight it?”
His lips captured yours, surprising you. You had to throw your hands around his neck not to fall deeper into the water when he almost sunk into you, arching your back with his strong arms around you. You sucked his bottom lip and received a groan before he pushed his tongue into your lips, and you didn’t bother to fight for dominance; this fight was already lost.
His hands slid down to your thighs and he lifted you up as if you weighed less than a feather, and walked out of the water, your lips still joined. He laid you on the grass, his lips travelled lower, to your jaw and neck, leaving wet trails to the valley of your breasts.
The ground felt as the finest of beds when he kissed you this way and flicked his tongue over your nipple just to caress another with his skilled fingers. A sigh escaped your lips when you pulled his white hair and forced him to kiss you again. His lips were so perfect on yours…
He positioned himself between your legs, lifting one of if by the crook of your knee and straightened slightly. He was eating you with his sight, every inch of you. Without taking his eyes from yours he kissed your leg just above the knee and with the other hand firmly held your hip to drag you closer. Your pussy was throbbing, you needed him to fill you or else you would probably gone mad. Thankfully he wasn’t going to keep you waiting any longer. He leaned to kiss you as he thrusted in you hard, causing you to gasp. He smiled cockily, biting your lower lip.
His member was dug deep inside of you, stretching your walls to the point where it hurt, but it was the most delicious pain of your life. He pulled off and thrusted back in, hand on your hip still pressing you onto the hard ground, but you didn’t mind, you almost didn’t feel it; the only thing you were able to feel was his cock reaching so marvellously deep and his lips on yours.
Your fingers got lost in his hair as he pounded wildly, fucking moans out of you. You kissed a silent curse from his mouth when he pressed on your leg, forcing it to spread even wider. Your muscles clenched at the new angle, you weren’t able to hold back his name as pleasure started to spread hot spots all over your body. Butterflies overtook your mind, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, all you were able to do was to move your hips to his pace, to clench your muscles and shake when orgasm hit you like a wave and a loud moan woke probably every bird in the forest.
He wasn’t long behind; your movements brought him to the edge, he thrusted hard and gasped into your mouth, spilling himself deep inside of you.
Only when he let you go you could feel how indelicate he was with your body; and how much you’ve liked it. He collapsed next to you, panting.
“If I knew this damned song was enough for you to give up already, I would sing it days ago.”
“What?” He turned to you, resting on his elbow.
“Did you really not notice a thing?” You sat up and squirmed at the pain of sore muscles.
“Believe me, I noticed,” he snorted. “Only I never thought that was what you meant… It took my whole strength not to claim you.”
You lied down, laughing.
“Men truly are clueless…”
He lifted himself on his elbow and leaned over you.
“I can show you how I am everything but clueless.” A smile ghosted on his face as you kissed him.
And this time you didn’t have to sing.
 ___
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tillthelandslide · 4 years
Text
Jersey Love (Part 3) : Life With You is a Walk in the Park
Authors Note: Ah! Part 3 is here and I hope you all like it, I have to see part 4 and 5 are my favourite parts so far so I hope you are all as excited as I am :). I really hope you like it, I appreciate any feedback.
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Part 1
Part 2
The next morning you woke up early, feeding your cats, making yourself a healthy breakfast all before hopping in the shower. You washed your hair with your favourite shampoo and conditioner, you then shaved and washed your body, cleaning your face with an exfoliating gel. You turned the shower off, wrapping your hair in a towel and drying your body, you walked to your bedroom, humming as you went. You chose to wear some comfortable workout clothes as you were going on a walk, before drying your hair. You put on some moisturiser before curling your long eyelashes, you were comfortable not wearing any makeup so decided against it, you brushed your hair up and put it out of your face into a high ponytail, the usual strands fell in front of your face so you decided to curl them with your tongs. You put on your shoes and packed a bag with some water, a jumper, your phone, keys and purse.
A little while later you heard your doorbell ring so you walked to the door. You opened the door seeing Henry standing there in workout shorts and a tank top, you had no idea how he wasn't cold. He was holding a lead which was attached to a gorgeous American Akitta.
"Hey handsome" you said, making him smirk at you.
"Hi, are you talking to me or Kal?" which made you laugh, he then leant forward to kiss you before speaking again. "the cats aren't here are they? Wouldn't want Kal chasing after them" he said making you chuckle.
"They left." you said, kneeling down to greet Kal. "Hey buddy. Oh my god, you're gorgeous" you said, massaging behind the big dog's ears making him pant at you.
"Seems like he likes you already" Henry said looking down at you, your eyes met briefly before you looked back at Kal.
"Are you excited?" you said, holding your palm out to him to which he placed his paw in yours. You swooned at him, he truly was the cutest dog. You stood up and smiled widely at Henry, leaning forward to kiss him again, you just couldn't help it.
"Ready?" he said, making you nod, you took your keys off the table by your front door, and grabbed your backpack from underneath it, placing it on your back. You closed the door behind the both of you, locking it securely.
"The place I'm taking you to is about a 15 minute drive from here" he said leading you to his car, he walked to your side first, opening the car door for you and sharing "my lady" which made you chuckle.
"Thank you kind sir, I think that deserves a kiss" you joked along with him, placing a peck against his cheek. You sat down in the seat as Henry opened the back door for Kal.
"Go on Kal" he said to the dog who was stubbornly not getting in.
"Sorry, he usually sits at the front with me" he said, making you chuckle.
"Let him sit here then" you said, opening your door and calling Kal, who came and sat on your lap straight away. You closed the door and Henry walked to the driver's seat.
"Are you sure that's okay? He's a big dog" he said making you pet Kal.
"He's fine." you said, making Henry shrug as he turned the engine on. 
His hands rested against the steering wheel, running along it making you gulp. He looked over at you.
“Like what you did here” he said gesturing to the pieces of hair you left in front of your face.
“Couldn’t get them in the ponytail, they’re stubborn” you said, tucking one behind your ear making Henry pout, he wanted to do it.
“You look beautiful as always darling” he said, beginning to drive.
“You’re too kind” you said, blushing a deep red.
“Just telling the truth,” he said, shrugging. You thought back to when you first met, he was a nervous wreck and you were the confident one, well now that had changed, every word he said made you blush, sure you had your moments and they surprise him but for the most part you were the nervous wreck. He still had a confident demeanor, even when you complimented him. The drive was quite short and the nearer you got the more excited Kal got in your lap. He was fidgeting loads and kicking your face excitedly making you giggle which made Henry's face ache with how much he was smiling.
"Kal calm down" you said, to which he listened straight away, much to Henry's surprise.
"Surprised that worked" he said, his eyebrows furrowing as the corners of his lips folded downwards.
"Just need to be dominant, you know? Assertive" you said making Henry gulp.
"You know a lot about being dominant then?" he said jokingly.
"You'll have to wait and find out" you teased, making him cough to clear his throat. You looked out of the window smirking to yourself, Henry looked at you and shook his head. You really were full of surprises he thought. 
A little while later, Henry pulled up next to another car in a small parking lot. He undid his seat belt and got out, running to your side of the car to open your door for you, Kal instantly jumped out and up at him, Henry quickly grabbing his lead, knowing the dog well and knowing he would run away out of excitement. He held his hand out for you to take, which you did, getting helped out of the car. You looked in front of you at the beautiful site, beautiful shades of green as far as the eye could see, the sky a bright shade of blue. You took your backpack from the car, closing the door behind you.
Henry grabbed Kal's lead before holding your hand again, beginning to walk with you.
"What was it like growing up being the only girl? And the youngest" he said, looking at you as you walked.
"I actually enjoyed having 3 brothers, felt like it made me who I am today. I wasn’t afraid to do things that were seen to be boyish, I really didn't care, I grew up doing the girly stuff but joining in with my brothers too, it was nice. Felt like I had the best of both worlds" you said, making him nod.
"How was it for you? 4 brothers is a lot" you said, to which he chuckled.
"We joked around a lot. Still do. They're my role models honestly, they really are the true superheroes. We still mess around and tease each other which is nice" he said, glad you were both opening up to one another.
"Was your parents split hard on you?" he asked.
"Um, I was very young so I don't think I fully understood what was going on. The split itself wasn't too hard, what was hard was my eldest brother tried taking my dad's role and I didn't really like that. I always felt like a martian in my family, I was the only girl so got treated differently because of that, and I was the youngest. We got closer as we grew up, we all found our place within the family. The two brothers who are closest  to my age, are my best friends. And my oldest brother, I love him a lot, sure we never used to get along but I now see the position he was in must have been so hard so I really respect him for that" you said, Henry's fingers were absent-mindedly running against the back of your hand making you smile to yourself.
"What made you want to become an actor?" you said, the both of you stopping for a minute because Kal was sniffing around.
"When I was at boarding school I got teased and bullied by the other kids. But then I started acting in the school plays and I just felt comfortable, felt like they couldn't bully me because I wasn't me, I was playing someone else, embodying someone else" he said making you frown at the fact he was bullied.
"They used to call me fat Cavill." he said laughing."That's so nasty" you replied, making him shrug.
"It was an accurate term, I was indeed a Cavill and I was kind of fat, it's just sad because they were probably getting bullied too, and by someone far more malicious then a school kid. I just find it funny now" he said.
"Yeah, because you've come so far. Look at you now, I mean c'mon. You're this amazing, kind and talented guy, everybody knows, wants to know you or wants to be you. And you're good looking so that helps. And on top of all of that, you’re so humble about all of it" you said, nudging your shoulder against his. He thought it was sweet how you were trying to cover up the fact you were being serious, trying to lighten the situation.
"Thank you" he said, offering you a sweet smile as he brought your hand up to his lips.
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"This is lovely" you said looking out at the skyline.
"So, I know it's your birthday party next week but when's your actual birthday?" he asked.
“The 21st of November” you replied, making him smile.
“Do you have any plans?” he asked politely.
“My mum has organised this family thing at her and her partners house, my brothers will be visiting for the day” you said, excitedly, you hadn’t seen them in a while and was beyond excited.
“That sounds amazing, I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing them.” he said, making you nod in reply.
“I really am, I haven’t seen them in what seems like forever, they’re my best friends” you said, smiling at all the great memories that came into your mind. Henry smiled back at you, wow this girl...she’s so cute he thought, pulling you tightly into his chest for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he rested around your shoulders, you chuckled when you heard Kal huff and soon after you felt his head nudging the back of your legs. You looked up to Henry whose hand came to rest against your jaw as he placed a sweet kiss against your lips.
You really wanted to invite Henry to your birthday celebrations with your family but were scared it was too soon.
“You really don’t have to come to my birthday bash if you don’t want to. I would understand, I know it might be a little overwhelming, with all my friends there. Wow I’m really not selling this am I?” you said, physically cringing that you called it that again.
“It’s okay, I want to be there”
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“I told you yesterday, I want to be a part of your life, your world… So I want to meet your friends… Besides we have to celebrate your birthday” he said, holding your hand as he spoke.“Okay, but be warned my friends can be really crazy and they like to go all out, like suits, dresses, champagne all out” you smiled.
“Sounds amazing, I’ll be sure to wear a suit” he said.
“I’m sure you’ll look dashing” you said, continuing walking hand in hand with Henry, Kal walking ahead of you.
“Do you get along with everyone at work?” Henry asks politely.
“Yeah, I do. I’ve made my closest friends through work, the guys you saw at the pub, they’re the best” you said, making Henry smile.
“They all seemed nice. You’re quite close with Lewis right?” Henry said.
“Yeah, he’s my best friend, him and Amy. You should know that when I first joined Durrell he asked me out on a date” you said, slightly laughing, looking at Henry who nodded.
“I don’t blame him, you’re amazing. What happened there then, he’s an attractive guy, no?” Henry asked. You appreciated that he wasn’t protective and it didn’t bother him. Henry did get a little bit jealous at the thought of this but then reminded himself that you were just friends so there was nothing to worry about, something must have happened.
“We went on one date and there was no spark there, we got along really well, but I dunno… it felt like he was just another one of my brothers” you said laughing “he still is affectionate but he’s honestly like that with everyone” you said hoping to ease any doubts Henry may have had, even he didn’t show it.
“That’s nice though, nice you have someone like that in your life” Henry said making you smile widely at how understanding he was. You started to slow down and Kal began to tug on the lead making you laugh, he looked back at the both of you, huffing and tugging the lead.
“Pass me the lead for a second” you said, making Henry furrow his eyebrows before handing it over. You held it in your hand and began running, Kal getting very excited and running with you, you laughed as you did so making Henry jog after you, laughing at how cute the both of you were. If Kal likes her then that must be a good sign he thought.
You caught up to Kal and he jumped up at you excitedly.
“Yeah, you’re excited aren’t you big boy?” you said, ruffling the fur on his head making him look up at you, his mouth moving into a big smile.
“You’re really good with him.” Henry said, catching up to the both of you, his hand landing on your lower back as he stood over Kal.
“You like her huh?” Henry said, petting his head and he swore he nodded at him, making the both of you laugh again.
“Me too buddy” Henry replied, looking at you, making you smile and lean forward into him slightly. He kissed your head and took your hand in his again, walking again, the lead now in your hand, Kal walking by your side which made Henry smile widely.
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“Do you take him everywhere with you?” you asked, making Henry nod.
“Yeah… he’s my best friend, my companion” he replied looking down at Kal and shaking his head, a smile on his face.
“How does he cope with travelling?”  you asked, petting Kal’s head. Henry began absent-mindedly swinging your hands back and forth, making you want to giggle at how cute it was, you were shocked that such a simple gesture had you wanting to smother him in kisses. 
“He’s okay with it, mostly just sleeps on me the whole time” he said, chuckling. You walked for a while longer, talking about lots of things, stopping when Kal wanted to rest. About an hour later you decided to sit down together to eat some food.
“What do you brothers do for a living?” Henry asked, eating a sandwich, Kal resting on his thigh, his big eyes flicking up to Henry, hoping to get some of his food.
“My eldest brother Shaun, he owns his own plumbing business, then Glenn works for Mind, the mental health charity, is the head of the digital team and then Harry manages a history museum” you said, running through your brothers by age.
“Wow, impressive family” he said, smiling.
“Yours?” you asked.
“Piers is a former army officer, Nick is a major in the Royal Marines, Simon works in financial services and Charlie works in marketing” he said proudly.
“Now that’s impressive, and your parents?” you said, wanting to get to know everything about him.
“My Dad served in the Navy and then a stockbroker, and my mum… she was amazing, is amazing, she took care of us for years and then worked as a secretary in a bank” he said, you loved hearing him talk about his family, you could tell how proud he was of them and how much he loved them.
“How about yours? You said your mum is retired now?” he asked.
“Yeah, she looked after us for years, in between jobs in childcare for years and then started working for the MET police in London. Then she met her partner and a few years later they retired here. My dad is retired too now, he owned the business my brother now owns” you said making Henry smile, he too could tell how important your family was to you.
You then spoke about what it was like to become an actor when his brothers had done something so different, his favourite things (including Salted Caramel cake, red velvet cake, rugby, Guinness, gaming and fantasy books).
“I appreciate this. Haven’t really spoken to people about this kind of stuff” he said, holding your hand.
“I just want to know everything there is to know about you” you said, you had both finished eating and Henry pulled you into his lap making you giggle, leaning into him, his hand grasping your waist making you sigh, the smallest amount of attention had you responding to him and he loved it.
“Then you should probably know I’m crazy about you” he said, it seemed like madness to you, you hadn’t known him that long but fel exactly the same way.
“I know” you said, making him laugh and kiss you gently.
“I’m crazy about you too Hen, it's scary” you mumbled against his lips.
“What are you scared of?” he asked, his lips moving against yours again.
“Falling” you answered honestly. He pulled away from you, smiling sweetly at you, his forehead resting against yours for a few seconds before he placed a kiss to it.
“I think that’s the point love” he said, laughing at you, making you pout for jokingly teasing you.
“I promise I’ll catch you” he said and you could tell he cringed at his words “sorry that was cringy” he said making you shake your head ‘no’ and place a firm kiss to his lips.
“It was perfect, tad cringe but it's fine” you said, laughing. You stood up from his lap, sticking your hand up for him to take, you pulled him up easily making his eyebrows raise.
“Ooo look at you, very strong” he jested, making him shove him lightly
“Haha, come on love” he said, the both of you began walking, Kal following behind you, his lead in Henry’s hand. 
“Back to work tomorrow?” he asked, making you sigh.
“Yeah” you said, you thoroughly enjoyed your job but it was tiring.
“Then off for the weekend, got a movie night tomorrow evening with Jess and then my friends are dragging me to a karaoke night on Saturday” you said, making Henry smile.
“Would you like to join us?” you said, he looked at you and nodded, he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible.
“For both?” he said, making you nod.
“Of course, you can properly get to know my friends before my birthday and Jess would love to have you there for the movie night, I’ll ask her first, don't want her hyperventilating on us” you said, the both of you laughing.
“Good idea”
“Be warned though, she’ll probably want to watch one of your films. Well maybe not if you were there” you said laughing.
“I don’t mind that, I’m up for anything” he said, making you smirk .
“Anything aye?” you joked, poking him the ribs making him laugh and squirm away from you. 
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“Her favourite film is Man of Steel but I doubt she'll want to watch it again, she texted me after she finished work yesterday saying she went home and watched it” you said, Henry smiling at you.
You carried on walking, nearly back at the carpark when you heard a rumble above you, suddenly rain started falling rapidly making you and Henry gasp and run to the car. You finally made it, all three of you totally soaked. Henry paused just before the car, pulling you flush against him.
“I’ve always wanted to kiss someone in the rain, would you do me the honor?” he said, making you nod, you both leant in slowly, you didn’t care that you were getting soaked, or that you would both probably feel a bit ill tomorrow, all that mattered was Henry, his lips moving closer and closer to yours until they merged with yours. You never believed in fireworks before, but in that moment, you swore they existed, maybe it was that you were truly falling for this man, maybe that it was the perfect moment, something from a movie screen. You didn’t know what it was but you knew you loved it.
“Wow, that is different from the movies” he joked “much better than the movies actually, cold though” he said making you nod and run into the car.
“Where the hell did that come from?” he said as you both got into the car, making the both of you laugh.
“Typical of the UK” you said, making him nod. The only positive was that because it was a clear day, a rainbow appeared. Kal was now sitting in the back, shaking himself to try to get dry which in the process managed to get you and Henry more wet.
“I’ll drive you home.” he said, nodding to himself and turning on the engine.
“Sorry our day got cut short” you said, making him reach out and hold your hand.
“Ended it perfectly though yeah?” he said, glancing at him.
“Perfectly”
Part 4
160 notes · View notes
randomfandomimagine · 4 years
Text
I Still Love You (Jaskier x Reader)
Characters: Jaskier, Geralt
Fandom: The Witcher
Tags: Angst, songfic
Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury
Word Count: 3k words
Requested by @caritobbg: Hello! Could you write a ficlet with Jaskier and a Fem!Reader where they are with Geralt in a tavern and, as she saw Jaskier flirt with other women, she was encouraged to sing a song that she would have written (it occurred to me Love of My Life by Queen) and then she runs from there to the woods when she finishes singing it and is attacked by a werewolf. Jaskier goes off to look for her alongside Geralt who was also concerned and had given his friend reasons to realize how she felt about him?❤️
A/N: This is angsty and bittersweet but I quite like how it turned out, hope you like it! 
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Jaskier x Female Reader
_
Everything about him seemed absolutely flawless. You were so madly in love with Jaskier that you found even his flaws endearing. For this very reason, you couldn’t help staring at him and admiring his handsome face, and the way his soft brown hair fell over his piercing and beautiful ocean blue eyes, which fondly stared at you.
He seemed to have noticed you were quite absent, because he chuckled and tilted his head at you in an adorable way.
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Jaskier asked you, gently nudging you and accompanying the gesture with a bright grin. “Are you tired, love?”
“A bit” You admitted, still lovingly staring at him. “Although it’s nothing that your company can’t fix”
“You’re such a flatterer” He fondly wrinkled his nose, leaning in to tap his finger against your nose. “As if your lovely company isn’t a blessing”
You stared at each other in silence for a moment. Seeing his bright grin stirred something within you, reminding you how beautiful it was and how smitten you were.
“If you don’t mind…” You started, trying to confess what had been eating you inside for such a long time. “I wanted to tell you something, Jaskier”
“I’m all ears, love” He absently leaned his shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms and intently listening to you. “What is it?”
“You may know already…” Although you nervously chuckled, you truly hoped he had noticed something. As perceptive as Jaskier could be, he seemed completely oblivious to the nature of your affections. “But the truth is I see you a certain way”
“Uh-huh… go on” He nodded his head, even if his eyes were now focused on something that seemed more interesting to him than you. “Sure, right…”
“I have stopped talking” You told him, even if you knew he wasn’t listening at all.
“You’re absolutely right, Y/N” Jaskier continued to nod his head as though he was catching every word you said, which he clearly wasn’t. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to tend to”
Like moved by an invisible force, the bard quickly scurried off to the other end of the tavern. The murmur that surrounded you filled your quietness, though it was not enough to fill the true void of the silence.
Jaskier had found an attractive blond woman who he started enthusiastically talking to. The mere sight was too painful to stand and so you turned your head away.
He seemed to find her to be better company despite the fact that he had never seen her before. Somehow, she was more enticing than you even if you and Jaskier had known each other for so long now, even if you had traveled together and endured countless hardships with each other.
Your eyes suddenly stung with unshed tears. In an attempt to distract from that woe, you searched Geralt with your gaze. Soon you spotted him sitting at the table still, enjoying his solitude in peace as he calmly drank is ale. For the first time since you started traveling together, you understood why he isolated himself in such a way. It was the only way to avoid getting hurt.
With a will of their own, your eyes searched Jaskier once more. He was dedicating her that smile, the one he usually saved only for you. Or so you thought. You could have sworn you felt how your heart broke, as though it was made out of glass and it shattered into a million pieces, causing the shards to consume you from the inside. At the same time, however, a burning anger erupted inside you. Did he not see how much it hurt you? Did Jaskier not realize how deeply in love you were? Or did he just decide to ignore it and continue courting other women? Whatever the case, you were tired. Tired of waiting for him, of holding on to hope that he might reciprocate someday, that he could love you back.
Forgetting about the pain and trying to hold on to that anger, you walked directly towards him. Not paying mind to the woman he was so bluntly flirting with, you shoved him a little.
“Oi!” He complained, watching you up and down in a mixture between confusion and outrage. “What’s the matter with you, Y/N?”
“I’ll tell you in a way you can finally get it through your thick skull, bard” Even if you were still angry, your voice only held all that pain that you felt inside.
Jaskier frowned sadly, frozen in place even as you took the lute hanging from his back and claimed it as your own. You felt his eyes follow you as you adamantly stood on a table and began strumming the chords, gathering the attention from everyone at the tavern. Geralt’s golden eyes fell on you as well, and you paused as you exchanged a glance with him. Recognizing the resignation and empathy in his eyes, you continued on. Ready to finally pour your heart out to Jaskier, or at least what was left of it.
That song had been hidden for too long, locked in your heart and in your mind. You were never brave enough to bring it out into the world, especially not when the bearer of your affections was unbeknownst to it all. It had been a difficult decision, but you had chosen his definite friendship over a possible romance, but you couldn’t handle the consequences any longer. That romance would never exist. It was but a mirage, an impossible daydream.
Moved by the sorrow that made your chest hurt, you began singing the ballad you had composed, that one which so perfectly explained your feelings as he hadn’t been able to recognize them on his own.
Love of my life, you've hurt me You've broken my heart, and now you leave me
When your eyes met with Jaskier’s, a lump formed in your throat. His saddened frown had only deepened as he intently listened to your every sung word. His face, however, blurred as the tears inevitably arrived to your eyes. In spite of it all, you pushed through and carried on.
Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me Because you don't know what it means to me Love of my life, don't leave me You've taken my love, and now desert me
It all suddenly became too much. The song was interrupted by your strong sobs and you felt unable to continue. The world became a place too hard for such a hurt girl like you. Shaking your head, you jumped down the table and returned by his side. Your bottom lip trembled as you reached him, and yet you still tried to lift your chin up in pride.
For once, Jaskier was rendered speechless. He observed you in silence, and the distress in his beautiful lively blue eyes somehow was yet another blow to your bleeding heart.
“You’ve broken my heart” You repeated as though the song hadn’t ended, angrily pushing the lute against his chest and facing your back to him.
“Y/N… did you write that?” He finally asked once you did. When he realized you weren’t turning back to him, a sudden urgency arrived to his voice. “Wait, h-hang on!”
His heart wildly raced, bringing a dull ache to his chest with every beat. Jaskier felt guilty and stupid, having been too frivolous to truly understand. You had been trying to tell him something important, and he only got distracted by a pretty face. As if you weren’t beautiful and right in front of him all along.
He blindly followed after you, yet a strong had pushed against his chest to keep him in place. Jaskier tried to pass the witcher by, but Geralt was adamant on intercepting his friend.
“Leave her”
“N-No! She’s upset and-“
“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now, Jaskier”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you really that fucking stupid?”
“What?”
“You really didn’t realize her feelings?”
“Well, now I do… She was trying to tell me but-“
“She’s been trying to tell you ever since she joined us”
“Come now, Geralt… If I were to truly believe every woman I talk to is enamored with me…”
“Yes, but that one really loved you. And she just walked away”
Jaskier froze in place, quitting his attempts to go over the witcher’s block. He gulped, realizing the implications of what Geralt was saying. It made your behavior all the more understandable while at the same time all the more heartbreaking. And it was all his fault.
“Jask… you stupid, stupid man…” He chastised himself under his breath before looking back up to his friend. “We should go after her, should we not?”
Geralt’s expression suddenly shifted, from utterly annoyed to alert. The bard had seen that expression many times, and a nasty feeling arrived to the pit of his stomach.
“W-What?” He uttered in fright. “What is it?”
“The woods” Geralt clenched his jaw as he retrieved both his swords. “It’s filled with werewolves”
“Shit” Before the witcher could say anything else, Jaskier began running.
He ran outside of the tavern, leaving behind his long forgotten female companion. He ran like he had never run in his life, completely ignoring the way his heart hammered against his ribcage or the feeling of not having enough oxygen in his lungs to breathe. Jaskier run as though the most important person in his life was in danger, because she was.
Perhaps he had been too blind or too stupid to realize you were the person he cared for most, but you were. Perhaps he had been completely oblivious to the feelings you harbored for him, but you did nonetheless. And it was his reckless behavior that gave you such spite, caused by him, that threw you to venture into the lion’s den.
As he ran breathlessly, not caring to wait for Geralt, Jaskier realized… he would never forgive himself if something happened to his dear Y/N. _
By the time they arrived into the woods, it was nighttime. The pair had looked for you in many other places, being sure to check quickly in case the worst case scenario was the reality: you had ventured into the dangerous woods on your own, feeling sad and miserable and being more vulnerable to an attack.
Jaskier couldn’t breathe, he could not focus as his mind could only return to you. He heard it just as he immersed further into the woods, with Geralt closely following behind. A woman was screaming, and he shivered at the thought that it was his beloved Y/N, who was in deathly peril.
“Y/N!” The bard yelled back, already moving to go to your rescue.
“Jaskier” Geralt stopped him, pulling back at his doublet. “Wait”
“What?” The aforesaid replied in outrage. “Y/N is out there, probably scared out of her mind right now, and it is all my fault, and you want me to w-“
Another sound interrupted him, one that took his breath away. It had sounded like a wolf howling, but the bard had enough experience thanks to the witcher to realize it was no ordinary wolf. No, that sounded far too strange to be a normal creature.
“A werewolf” Geralt muttered, pulling out his silver sword.
“How can you be so sure?” Jaskier stuttered, intently looking at his friend.
With no need for words, the witcher only pointed a gloved finger upwards. Following that direction, Jaskier realized what he was saying. There was a full moon looming over them, magical and mysterious as well as intimidating, if not for herself, for the creatures that lurked in her name.
“I’ll get the werewolf” Geralt whispered, finally letting go of him. “You circle around it and find Y/N”
Determined, Jaskier nodded his head and stepped away from the place the howling sound had originated from. He was adamant on his mission, as finding you seemed the most important thing he would have to do in his life. He only prayed that you weren’t injured.
Searching for any signs of your presence, he moved slowly, too afraid to miss any of the signs that you might be close by. The dry leaves crunched beneath his boots, yet no sound seemed loud enough to overpower that of his racing heart and his erratic breathing. His hands nervously closed and opened as his fingers nervously fidgeted.
“No…” Jaskier suddenly felt dizzy when he spotted something crimson staining the leaves. “Y/N?”
They were only a few droplets of blood, but it was more than enough to have Jaskier stop in his tracks and bend over weakly. His stomach churned, his mind was racing with terrible thoughts of what could have happened to you.
“Y/N? God, I hope you’re alright” He whispered. “Where are you, love?”
Just as he took another step, something caught his attention. A whimpering noise sounded to his right, and so he didn’t think twice to head in that direction. What he found was a figure, huddled behind a tree trunk, hiding her face on her knees and bawling her eyes out.
“Y/N!” Jaskier threw himself to his knees, gently laying a hand atop your shoulder.
“No!” You moved away from his touch, waving your hands in the air as though trying to swat him off you. “Don’t hurt me, please!”
“It’s me! It’s me, love, it’s Jaskier!”
When you dared look up, he paused. You were still breathing rapidly, tears rolling down your cheeks as your bawling started coming to a halt.
“T-The werewolf!”
“It’s alright, Geralt’s gone and get it”
The air turned cold as you grew silent. Jaskier watched you in anguish, wanting to ask if you were alright but nearly fearing he had lost the right to even ask that. It was his fault that you were there on the first place. Bearing heavy thoughts of your own, you remained quiet. You locked eyes with Jaskier as contradictory feelings overwhelmed you.
Love of my life, can't you see? Bring it back, bring it back, don't take it away from me Because you don't know what it means to me You will remember, when this is blown over And everything's all by the way When I grow older, I will be there at your side To remind you how I still love you
Back, hurry back, please bring it back home to me Because you don't know what it means to me
“I’m sorry…” He whispered, even though his voice came out strangled and it was barely audible. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m-“
Much to his astonishment, you threw yourself to him. Your arms urgently wrapped around his neck as you cowered into his shoulder. All possible unwell within you both seemed to vanish as you collided in an urgent embrace.
“Oh, thank the gods I found you…” Jaskier sighed in relief, cradling your head as he held you tightly against him. “Are you hurt? I saw…”
“It scratched me…” You pulled away, holding your arm up to show him the garments torn to shreds and the superficial wound still pouring blood. “But it didn’t bite me”
“Thank the heavens…” He embraced you again, being taken by such relief that he now experienced an entire different kind of dizziness as he gingerly pressed your frame against his chest. “I’m so sorry, love, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been so bloody stupid”
You were silent as you let him hold you. While your fresh wound was a duller ache, your head hurt as your love for Jaskier as well as your resentment for his demeanor fought for dominance within you.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?” He uttered, knowing how to interpret your silence. “I don’t blame you, honestly, I would-“
“Now you know” You interrupted him, realizing he was about to ramble as he usually did. “What do you have to say about it?”
“Yes, it is absolutely my bad” Jaskier vehemently nodded his head. “Had I realized what your true feelings were, I could have saved you so much pain and… I suppose I just didn’t see the signs that you-“
“Jaskier” You only called him, bearing unshed tears in your glassy eyes.
“I don’t know” He honestly replied, feeling more genuine and vulnerable than you had ever seen him. “I don’t know if I love you back, I just know that I care about you”
“I still love you…” You stuttered, letting out a nervous chuckle to hide the fact that your tears had overflown and were now rolling down your face once more.
“And I… I love you too, but… I don’t know in which way I love you, I just know I was terrified out of my mind when you ran away” He sighed, passing a nervous hand through his thick brown hair. “I might realize I hold romantic feelings for you soon or I might not, but… I want you to know that you hold a special place in my heart one way or the other”
Not knowing what to do or say, you only nodded your head. Feeling uncomfortable, you instead tried to stand up and Jaskier didn’t lose one second to help you to your feet.
“I promise you one thing, though” He tenderly held your hand. “I won’t ever allow myself to hurt you like this ever again”
“Okay…” You could only mutter, still recovering from the pain that day held for you.
“Come here, love” Jaskier wrapped his arms around you a third time, this time never wanting to let you go. He clung on to you, just like you were. Perhaps you loved each other in different ways, and whether that would change or not, you had each other at the moment.
The bard looked up when he thought he heard something. In the distance, he spotted Geralt standing there, carrying the blood stained sword. The two looked at each other as they were facing one another, and nodded their heads. They didn’t say anything, only resigning themselves to the way things ended. There was nothing to say anymore after all.
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Reader being friends with Eskel and late one night they're chilling or w/e and they confess that they like him but like. Fully expecting him to not feel the same and really nervous about ruining the friendship? But eskel likes them too, just didn't want to mess things up as well and it's just really soft???
Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Eskel x Reader Word Count: 1,851 Rating: G a/n: Part II. It has been 84 years since I wrote a kiss but I hope you like it xo
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            It took three weeks to find him after you’d healed.
            You woke in a room you did not know and had thought for a moment you were taken captive. When Yennefer entered the room and welcomed you to Kaer Morhen, and consciousness, she acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world to wake up in the notorious home of the witchers. Then again, for her it probably was.
            She didn’t answer half of your questions and what she did share you’d assumed. Eskel had brought you and immediately called for her (“Rather impatiently,” she’d sniffed as she said it, though there was a note of respect in her voice.). After Yennefer arrived and you’d been declared stable, he’d left. She didn’t know where and she didn’t know why or if he would be returning. She refused to let you leave until all that was left of your injury was a pale, puckered scar and the warning that it may ache as the seasons changed.
            “Be careful with that one,” she said to you, a final piece of parting advice, “At the best of times a witcher is hard to pin down. Eskel was not at his best when he left here.”
            “You worry about your witcher and I’ll worry about mine,” you’d said coolly, the truth of her words as chilling as the early morning air. You began your trek, focused on the task ahead, but her final words chased after you and echoed in your head long after you’d left the grounds.
            “Is he your witcher, though?”
-----
            Eskel absentmindedly scratched the goat’s scruffy chin as his mind replayed memories he had long since given up repressing. The harder he tried to forget the brilliant red of your blood on his hands or the grey tinge to your skin when he laid you on his bed, the more strongly they returned. His new plan was to surrender to it as he had so many other painful memories that haunted him. He knew it was cowardly to leave but he hadn’t been able to make himself stay. It was a poor excuse but he didn’t have a better on to offer. People praised the witchers for their strength and courage but what was a monster to the loss he’d nearly suffered? The goat wriggled off of his lap and bounded away and Eskel rose quickly to go after it lest it was trying to fight another of its kind. He’d gotten as far as his knees when he froze.
            He’d grown used to seeing you in unexpected places. Moments before your near death and after, but never like this. Never with this expression on your face, half-joy and half-fear. You’d never looked afraid of him before. He stayed in place and watched as you moved closer. This could be witchcraft, he knew, but before long it was too late to fight it as you stood in front of him and when your hand tentatively reached out and touched his face as it had in what felt like another lifetime, he didn’t care.
            “You’re a real bastard,” you said, though your tone of voice lost all of its bite as soon as they left your lips. You had begun to give up hope that you’d find him, and filled with a deep dread that when you did he simply wouldn’t care. Your fingers moved to his lips, softer than you’d expected, and then pulled away.
            “Well?” you demanded.
            “Are you really here?” he asked, a note of awe in his voice.
            “Don’t be so surprised, Eskel, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” you said, falling back on sarcasm as the reunion you’d imagined began to dissolve. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. After all, he’d left of his own accord. And he hadn’t asked you to find him.
            “I thought you might be,” he confessed, “I dreamt it a hundred times. Thought maybe Yennefer had been mistaken and you’d come for me one day.”
            You opened your mouth to make a joke about coming for him, more out of discomfort at the strangely vulnerable look in his eyes than any genuine desire you felt at that moment, but before you could speak he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in close. His head pressed into your stomach and you rested your arms around his shoulders. One hand slid into the coarse, brown hair, brushing it out of his face as he wordlessly embraced you. When he finally looked back up at you there were tears shining in his golden eyes.
            “Eskel…,” you began, feeling slightly ridiculous for being so nervous but also knowing better than most that there were no guarantees in this world. Men didn’t usually drop to their knees and cry over people they felt nothing for, but witchers were not men. And Eskel was not like most witchers. He watched you expectantly, arms falling to gently rest against the backs of your calves as if he couldn’t quite force himself to stop touching you until you asked.
            “Y/N?” he prodded gently after he couldn’t take the silence anymore. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Yennefer had asked a question and you needed an answer.
            “Well, when a person nearly dies it makes them think about things. I mean, you probably know, you’ve nearly died a thousand more times than I have…”
            His eyes grew sorrowful and he hung his head, forehead brushing against your belt.
            “I should have moved quicker,” he said, saying aloud the words he’d been chasing in his mind since you’d been struck down, “I should have seen it coming.”
        ��   “Eskel we’ve gone over this, it wasn’t your fault. It’s a natural part of hunting, sometimes people die. Anyway what I meant to say was –”
            “I shouldn’t have let you come,” he said, turning his head back up to look at you, a determined expression you didn’t like settling into his features.
            “I get to make those decisions myself thank you but what I was going to say-”
            “I promised myself I wouldn’t let another get hurt due to my carelessness. I won’t break it again. We’ll find you someplace to be, someplace safer, I’ll talk to Ves-”
            You clasped a hand over his mouth and though he could have easily brushed it aside, he fell silent. The amber eyes looked up into yours, waiting for condemnation or instruction.
            “I am trying to say that I love you,” you said, enunciating each word clearly because you knew you wouldn’t be able to repeat them if he asked. Your heart pounded loudly in your chest as you watched the words sink in, the expectant shifting to curious. The brow furrow and slacken as realization dawned on him, and for a moment he were gazed up at you as if waiting for a caveat. You slowly released your hand from his mouth but still he was speechless.
            “Eskel?”
            “Hmm.”
            Your arms slackened and you forced your spine straight though your body wanted nothing more than to crumple in on itself.
            “I value your friendship and if I’ve ruined it I would never forgive myself but obviously you don’t have any obligations and gods please don’t try to let me down gently or go along with anything because of some misplaced sense of guilt because I would rather look at Roach the wrong way in Geralt’s presence than make you feel… burdened with my love or whatever we want to call it we don’t have to call it love we don’t have to call it anything in fact we can just-”
            He pressed one finger softly against your lips and you fought the sudden urge to slide it into your mouth. His mouth quirked into a smile and you saw a glint in his eyes as he shook his head. Amusement, and something more. Something that gave you hope.
            “So many words, pretty girl,” he murmured, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb, “There are so many words for what I feel. But right now I’d just like to kiss you, by your leave.”
            He felt your heart skip a beat but he waited for your answer, given in a series of surprised blinks and then an eager head nod.
            Eskel had thought long and hard about the many different ways your first kiss may go. He’d imagined them brusque and passion driven or soft and practically chaste or even accidental, lips brushing at a glance and then going back for more at the recognition of how right it felt for them to be together. He closed his eyes and tilted his face up in one fluid motion, lips finding yours instinctively. Your lips were chapped from the journey and cold from the evening air and a goat bleated indignantly in the background and it was perfect. His arms wrapped back up around your waist as your hands clasped his face. He didn’t wince as your fingers ran against his scar or when your tongue brushed up against a rough, sword-hewn edge of his mouth. He let you in, yielding to you with a soft sigh that you swallowed, rolling it into a moan as you moved your body even closer. He pulled back, placing a quick kiss on your nose as he did before pressing his forehead against yours. His hair fell into his face and you reached up and tenderly brushed it back, tracing the strong contours of his jaw and cheekbone and chin.
            “I lo- I have loved you, Y/N,” he breathed the words, a final submission.
            “How long?” you asked, the warmth of the words sinking deep into your bones and filling you with a soft, radiant happiness unlike anything you’d ever felt before.
            “I don’t know,” he admitted with a shy smile, “The day I met you? When you made Lil’ Bleater a flower crown to match your own at the festival? Every time you scowled at me when I tried to shrug off your healing? I love you in so many ways it feels as natural as the tides, building and growing but never truly more or less. Just in different forms. The only constant I have for you is my love. I hope that’s enough. I hope I…”
            His words trailed off but you saw their meaning in his amber eyes.
            “It’s everything,” you answered, “You’re everything.”
            The tears that came unbidden to his eyes were happy but you brushed them away just as tenderly as any other and when he kissed you again he pulled you down to the ground next to him, eager to give as much of himself as you wished to take.
-----
Yennefer was woken by the sound of insistent cooing. She rolled over to face it, gently extracting Geralt’s arm from her side to reach out to the pigeon that had alighted on the window. As soon as she loosed the note from its leg, it jutted away again. Cautiously she unrolled the tiny piece of parchment and smiled at its contents.
            Yes.
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noladyme · 4 years
Text
The Frog Princess. Chapter 8
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She had no wish to be bound down to anyone, but Y/N none the less found herself being dragged across the continent; to marry King Foltest of Temeria.  Instead of pomp and spectacle; she was accompanied by the witcher, Geralt of Rivia. Their travels would bring both monsters, lust, love; and heartache. All sound tracked by an endearing buffoon of a bard, named Jaskier.
TW: Violence, language, sexual themes. Rated M.
8
We rode for days, due northeast; each mile we put behind us bringing me closer to my inevitable end. At least, that was how it felt. I felt my limbs growing stronger from riding and carrying wood for fires; and though the sun was never shining brightly; my skin grew more tanned by the day.
Geralt had begun to train me with the sword he’d taken from O’Dimm’s man. I wasn’t a skilled swordswoman by any means; but I was sure I’d be able to defend myself in a fair fight. We made breaks for eating, resting, training, arguing, making up; and the occasional fuck against a tree – a least once a day, on a bad day.
On one of these occasions; in his eagerness; Geralt almost ripped the buttons off the breeches Ajvin had given me. “Fuck!”, he growled. “I don’t like these things; they make it too difficult to have you”. “You were the one who insisted I need new clothes”, I laughed. “Besides, practicality over easy access”. I opened the buttons myself, and slid down the breeches over my bottom; before bracing myself against a tree with my hands, and pushing my backside out.
Geralt accepted the invitation, and felt for my wetness; before pushing himself into me, slowly. “I thought you were in a hurry”, I breathed in complaint. Geralt pulled himself back; and slammed back into me, hard. “Shit!”, I cried out. “Too much?”, Geralt chuckled hoarsely. One of his hands held on to my hip; the other found my nub, and stroked it to the rhythm of his thrusts. “W-why do you always ask that?”, I panted. He slid his arm around my torso, and took a light hold of my throat; pulling me flush against his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you”, he said, kissing my neck. “You haven’t yet”, I smiled; before groaning loudly, as he pushed himself hard into me again.
He let me come before finding his own relief – as always; inside me. I suspected it was his way of making his mark on me – even if we both knew there was no chance of a child coming out of it.
After cleaning myself up – with a clean wet cloth provided by an embarrassed looking Geralt – I straightened my clothes. I’d had to make alterations to them – clearly they were Ajvids own old clothing; including the purple shirt that hung low on my shoulders. My new outfit furthermore consisted of dark grey breeches, that I’d adjusted so they hung snugly to my frame – making a certain witcher have to occasionally adjust himself, when I bent over – and a dark brown leather jerkin, without sleeves. I still had my grey cloak; which kept me somewhat warm during the nights, when Geralt had to patrol the area around our camps for sounds he’d heard – and therefore could not lay next to me.
There was a strange domesticity to our days. As if we’d be travelling like this for the rest of our lives. But we won’t, I kept reminding myself.
The man travelling with me – my lover, my friend, my confidant – was transporting me closer and closer to a land further from mine than I had ever been. The man who spent most of his nights between my legs and staring into my eyes; was handing me over to a stranger, who would from then on have a claim on doing those things himself. The thought made me sick to my stomach; but I kept returning to it, to remind myself – so that my heart wouldn’t break as much when the day came that our journey was at an end.
The glade we were occupying was quiet. Food had been scarce for a few days, as we hadn’t come across any villages; and it seemed that most of the wildlife had fled. I sat by the dying embers at our fire, thinking.
“I want to see Mousesack”, I said, catching Geralt of guard. “Why?”, he asked, voice gruff. “He has information for me. The butcher’s wife said so”. Geralt poured a bowl of water over the embers. “He’s going the opposite direction than we are”, he said dismissively. “Who’s eager to reach our destination now?”, I mumbled.
Geralt went to pack Roach’s saddlebags. He still kept our horses apart, for fear that Bayrd should act on his carnal desires towards his mare. “I don’t want to do this now”, he said. “Do what?”, I asked. “Fight”, he answered. “I’m not fighting”, I said, standing to kick dirt into the smoking ashes in front of me. “I’m stating facts. You made a contract to transport me to Temeria. You are acting on it. I’m just surprised you were in such a hurry to get rid of me”. I clenched my jaw.
Geralt grunted, and continued his task, moving on to Bayrds saddle. “I understand it, you know”, I said, putting on my cloak. “You’re a witcher. I age; and you do not. Besides, you’ve already had me every which way you could want”. “Stop…”, he muttered. “It’s inevitable that you were bound to get sick of me at some point…”, my voice broke. “Stop!”, he roared.
He strode up to me; and took my face in his hands. “Y/N”, he said. “You are the furthest thing from easy to be around. You are stubborn; rash; you never listen… and your mushroom stew is bad enough to kill a dead man”. He put his forehead to mine. “And I would have you no other way. I wish I could keep you; but that’s not how destiny has made it”. “Fuck destiny”, I snarled. He chuckled. “If only I could”, he answered. He kissed my forehead; and wrapped his arms around me. My eyes welled up, and I cried against his shoulder.
“I have to see Mousesack”, I whispered through my tears. Geralt exhaled. “I know. But I don’t know where to find him for you”, he said. “We can’t go backwards…”.
He was interrupted by a rumbling of hooves, that almost made the ground quake. He pushed me towards the trees. “Go! Cover your face. Don’t let them see you!”, he hissed, and pulled his sword from his back. I ran to Bayrd, and grabbed my new sword; then fled towards the edge of the trees; crouching behind the largest one I could find.
The riders approaching bore Cintran colors. It was a large group; of about 20 men; all dressed in armor. I saw Geralt glance in my direction, before facing the rider at the front.
“Witcher!”, the man called. “What is your business so close to Ortagor?”. Geralt relaxed his stance. “I have a contract”, he answered. “A bruxa. Near the border of Sodden”. “And your companion?”, the man asked. “I have no companion”, Geralt said. “Since when do witchers travel with two horses?”, the man barked.
Geralt put his sword back in its sheath. “No answer?”, the soldier said. “You’d do best to respect your betters, mutant”. Geralt clenched his jaw. “Right!”, the soldier called to the men behind him. “Take the mare. As a gift for her majesty’s war efforts”. Geralt snarled and went to draw his sword again.
“Calm the fuck down, Thaggert!”, a familiar voice called. “I have enough horses. Besides, I like the stallion better”.
From the middle of the group of riders, strode a tall woman; dressed in intricately decorated armor. She got of her horse, and walked up to Geralt; flanked by two of the soldiers. “Witcher”, she hissed. I recognized her instantly. Calanthe. The Lioness of Cintra!
“Your majesty”, Geralt grumbled; and nodded slightly. Nothing in the world could get him to bow to anyone, I knew that – something that at that moment made me fear for his life.
“You made a promise!”, she snarled. “I did, your majesty. And I am upholding that promise as we speak”, Geralt answered her. “I am here for a contract”. “What contract?”, Calanthe demanded. “As I told your man”, he replied. “Bruxa. Near Sodden”. Calanthe spat at the ground. “Horse shit”, she said. “We were just coming from Sodden; no word of vampires there. Tell me the truth”. Geralt exhaled slowly. “Men!”, Calanthe called. The soldiers drew their swords.
“He’s here with me!”, I yelled; and stepped out from behind the tree. Geralt looked at me angrily. I sent him an indifferent look back. “You? Show your face girl”, Calanthe barked.
I stepped into the glade, and pulled down my hood. Calanthes face lit up. “Y/N!”, she laughed. “What are you doing here, girl?”. She stomped up to me, and took me in her arms for a tight squeeze. “Lower your weapons, men. This is the lady Y/N, my husband’s cousin”, she said; and patted my cheek. “And; the future queen of Temeria!”.
The soldiers on the ground took a knee, and the ones still on horses bowed their necks to me. I felt a strange knot in my stomach. “Where is your guard, girl? Your following?”, she asked. I nodded in the direction of Geralt. “Him?”, Calanthe asked; frowning bewilderedly at me. “He is… my guard”, I answered. Calanthe stepped back, looking from me to Geralt. “What in Hels ass was Eist thinking?”, she snarled. Calanthe was married to a Skelliger, not one herself – but she had taken on some of our profanities; at least the ones she liked.
I walked towards Geralt. “My cousin seemed to find it a necessity to keep my travel arrangements a mystery to certain parties. So, he hired the witcher”. The queen laughed sarcastically. “Oh, I am going to have words with my husband”, she growled.
One of the riders called out to her. “Your majesty; Ortagor awaits your arrival”. Calanthe sighed. “Yes, yes. Someone is always awaiting my arrival”, she groaned. “We take them with us. The lady rides along side me… the witcher takes the back. Keep an eye on him”.
Geralt sent me a poignant look, and went to saddle up on Roach. Before he got all the way over to the mare; Calanthe grasped his arm and looked at him – her eyes ablaze. “If it wasn’t for my cousin-in-law, your head would be rolling on the ground!”. Geralt tried for a mediating expression. “Your majesty…”. “Don’t!”, Calanthe hissed. “If I hear you’ve been asking about the child – even so much as mentioned Pavetta – I’ll personally cut of your bollocks, and feed them to my dogs!”.
My heart dropped. Geralts eyes found mine for a second; before falling to the ground. Calanthe let go of his arm, and went back to join her men.
I went to saddle up, my hands shaking so much in the process, I almost lost my footing in the stirrup. One of the soldiers on the ground grabbed my calf; and helped me up. I could feel Geralts eyes on us.
---
The ride to Ortagor wasn’t long; but it felt like an eternity. I was deep in thought.
“How is my husband?”, Calanthe suddenly asked from beside me. She’d caught me off guard. “What?”, I said. She chuckled at me. “I said, how is my husband?”. I smiled. “Well, last I saw him. No less annoying, no more regal”, I said. “Good”, the queen laughed. “And his bed?”. Her eyes were suddenly hard. “Empty, save for him”, I assured her. She grunted, satisfied.
We rode on in silence for a little while. “And… the princess Pavetta. How does she fare?”, I asked as casually as I could. Calanthes face hardened slightly. “About to pop”, she said. “She’s going the way you came. Eist convinced me she should give birth in Skellige, for some reason”. I felt a rush of blood to my head. “Oh!”, I said. “I didn’t know. Congratulations!”. Calanthe scoffed. I tried to smile. “And the father is?...”. “Not who I would have picked”, she snarled. “But... no matter now. The child will be loved and raised by the right people”. I smiled and nodded; wanting to scream.
We arrived at the fortress of Ortagor to great fanfare; the crowds cheering for their queen. All around people were celebrating the arrival of the Great Lioness; with drink and music. Great, I thought. Another feast. Just what I needed. I was in no mood for any celebrations myself.
We unsaddled, and followed the queen towards the great hall. I suddenly felt a tug on my arm. Geralt was looking at me with hard eyes. “Little frog…”, he said. “Not now”, I stopped him, and pulled my arm from his grasp.
“Witcher!”, Calanthe called from behind us. “Lady Y/N is perfectly safe within these walls. We have no need for you. Go do whatever it is, your kind do”. Geralt clenched his jaw. “My kind eat, drink and rest when we can”, he said. She looked at him dismissively. “You can do that at the other end of the hall; where I don’t have to look at you”, she said. “Come, girl. We have feasting to do!”.
I followed the queen into the hall – having much rather wanted to find a dark corner to calm myself. As the door opened; horns blazed a salute. “Yes, yes. Fuck off. I’m here now”, Calanthe growled, and threw her helmet at a servant. “Music!”.
A familiar voice began a song I had heard before.
“Once a lady from Kaer Trolde fared, with skin so smooth, and beautiful hair. She held the heart of many a man; but mouths stood agape, when she speaking began.”
Jaskier!
“Foul mouthed lady, be kind onto me And I’ll be your thrall, I will never flee. Foul mouthed princess, have mercy, I plea And I shall be ever a servant of thee”
The crowd sang along to the chorus.
“The foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles The foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess, the foulmouthed princess of the Skellige Isles!”
Jaskier strummed the last chord to a roar of applause. He bowed and sent air kisses to a buxom redhaired girl standing nearby.
I sat down next to Calanthe at the head table; and soon food and drinks were placed in front of us. Catching Jaskiers eye; he rushed over. “Your majesty”, he said; and bowed so deep his nose was almost touching the floor. “My lady Y/N!”. “You know each other?”, Calanthe asked. I cleared my throat cautiously. “We met in Skellige”. Calanthe grinned. “No…”, she laughed. “You’re the foulbreathed princess?”. “Foulmouthed, your majesty”, Jaskier smiled. “I’m quite certain there’s nothing wrong with the lady’s breath”. I chuckled nervously. “My lady, where is…”, he began. “The witcher”, I interrupted, sending him a poignant look. “He is somewhere in the hall; probably buried in some servant girl’s cleavage”. Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “As he does…”, he said.
Calanthe threw a gold coin at the bard. “Go. Do your work, minstrel. I want music and cheering. It’s been a long day”. Jaskier bowed. “As you wish your majesty”. He sent me a final look, and went back to the makeshift stage in the middle of the room, to play for the dancing crowds.
“So”, Calanthe said, smiling at me. “You’re on your way to Foltest, I’m told”. “I am”, I replied. “You seem… less than pleased”, she continued. I sighed. “Am I supposed to be pleased to be shipped of to a man twice my age? – with an inbred daughter to boot…”, I said; and took a sip from the goblet in front of me. Calanthe tightened her lips. “Temeria is not much different than Skellige”, she said. “Less water surrounding it… The winters are cold as a witch’s tit, but the summers are bearable”. I scoffed. “It’s not the weather that concerns me”.
Realizing the quail in front of me had been served without utensils for carving it; I pulled my knife from my boot, and cut in to the bird – ravished from the last few days lack of real food.
Calanthe smirked. “Travelling with the witcher has made you rough, Y/N”. I looked down at my dirty nails; realizing she was right. “I told Eist to get you your sgian-dubh for your 15’th birthday”. Calanthe and Eist had been sending each other eyes for years before they were married in a small ceremony, I’d heard very little about. She’d visited for my coming of age celebration years before – mostly, I think, to see my cousin. “He wanted to give you a new dress”. I laughed out loud. “Of course he did”, I said. “Yes, well”, she continued. “I would have gotten one for Pavetta, but apparently that is cultural appropriation”, she sneered. I held my tongue.
She looked at me solemnly. “He cares for you deeply, Y/N. I know this isn’t the union you’d dreamt of… but it is the right move”. “For your war?”, I said hesitantly, careful not to look the lioness in the eyes – admittedly, she scared me, and for good reason. “It’s true”, Calanthe admitted. “Foltest has promised his help in the war effort, in return for his marriage to you; and the dowry you bring with you”.
We were quiet for a while. “The witcher”, the queen began again. “He protects you well?”. I half smiled. “He does”, I said. She took a long sip from her goblet. “And in bed?” My face turned white. “I-i… that’s not…”, I tried. “Come now, Y/N”, Calanthe smirked. “I’ve seen how he looks at you”. “And how’s that?”, I said; trying for dismissive. “Like you’re a freshly cooked rabbit; and he hasn’t eaten in a week. Reminds me of how Eist would look at me, before he had me the first time”. She smirked, and took a bite of her quail. “More like a frog”, I muttered. “What’s that?”, she asked. “Nothing”, I answered.
She leant back in her chair, and looked at me seriously. “He’s not a good man, Y/N”, she said. ”I’m beginning to see that”, I answered.
We ate the rest of our meal in silence; only interrupted by the occasional lord coming forward to wish health on my upcoming marriage. I wanted to stab each and everyone of them in the neck.
---
A guard was posted outside the room I had been given for the night. It was larger than the one Geralt and I had shared in Tigg, and much grander in its decorations. A large bed with beautifully embroidered bedding; rich carpets decorated the walls and floor; a table set with fruits and wine; a roaring fireplace, and – thank the gods – a warm bath in front of it.
I shed my dirty clothes, and stepped into the tub; lowering myself into the water, until only my face was above the surface. For the first time in days – weeks – I was alone. And I cried. I wept so long that it felt like there were no tears left in the world. My chest hurt from the contractions of my sobbing; and I was beginning to struggle for breath in the end.
I heard a skirmish outside the door. Someone was banging loudly at it. “You can’t go in. The lady is not to be disturbed!”. “She’s in my charge, and I’ll see her!”. I recognized Geralts voice.
I stepped out of the tub, and put on the clean robe that had been warming by the fire. Opening the door, I saw Geralt pressing his lower arm against the neck of the guard; forcing him against the wall. Two other guards were holding their swords to his back.
“It’s fine”, I said. “Let him in”. “But my lady; Queen Calanthe made it perfectly clear…”, the man against the wall said. “Fuck off, dingleberry”, I growled; earning a gasp from all three guards. Geralt removed his arm from the man, and the three guards slowly stepped back. “Foulmouthed princess, indeed…”, I heard one of them mumble, as they walked away.
I stepped aside for Geralt to enter the room. He looked around; as always ready for an attack from any corner. They’d taken his weapons and armor, it seemed; as he was left with only his plain clothes. “The bathwater is cold”, I said; and sat down by the table. Geralt grunted and went to stand by the fire.
“I heard you cry”, he said. “From where?”, I asked. “From the courtyard”. I covered my face in embarrassment. “No one else heard you”, he said. “Right…”, I mumbled; remembering his enhanced hearing.
Geralt went to take my hand; and examined my face. “What’s wrong?”, he asked. I pulled my hand away from him furiously. “A 15 year-old girl, Geralt”, I snarled. “How could you?”. He looked genuinely confused. “The child!”, I said. “And here I thought witchers couldn’t procreate”. “We can’t…”, he grumbled.
I stood up, and threw an apple into the fireplace; cracking it against the back wall. The juices dripped down, and made the fire sputter. “Then, why…”, I growled, punching him as hard as I could in the chest; “… is princess Pavetta on her way to Skellige to give birth to your child?”.
His face went from confused, to relieved – to finally; angry. “You think I would get a girl pregnant, and then just leave her? A princess, no less?”, he scoffed. “Do you not know me?” “No!”, I yelled. “I don’t know you. At all!”. He took a step backwards. “No”, he said. “It seems you don’t”. He walked towards the door. “We leave in the morning. Your husband will want to see you soon”.
I lost all composure. Picking up the entire bowl of fruit from the table; I threw it at his back; grapes, oranges, plums and apples splattering across his shirt. And then I screamed.
Geralt growled, and sped at me; grabbing my shoulders, and throwing me on the bed. I clawed at his face – doing my best to scratch him – but he held my wrists down. “Stop!”, he roared “Go to Hel!”, I screamed. “You can go right along with me, woman!”, he answered.
I wrestled myself free from his grasp and struck at his head. He narrowly avoided my hand by rolling onto his back; and I straddled him – once again getting my wrists caught in his grasp.
Suddenly the door opened, and the three guards were standing in the opening. “My lady!...”, one of them called. “Get the fuck out!”, Geralt and I roared at the same time; staring at the dumbstruck men. They silently closed the door. “Bloody crazy, that one”, I heard one of them say through the door, as they walked away.
I got off Geralt; and laid on my back next to him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”, I said. “There’s nothing to tell”, he answered. “But you have a child on the way with another woman!”, I half whimpered. “And you are marrying another man!”, he grunted. I sat up and shook my head in exhaustion. “I never wanted to marry him!”, I said. “And I never wanted a child”, he muttered. I stood up, picked up an orange from the floor, and threw it at him. He sat up, and looked at me angrily. “Would you stop throwing fruit at me?”, he snarled.
I scoffed. “You never wanted a child”, I hissed. “Maybe you should have thought of that, before you stuck your dick in the 15 year-old lion-cub of Cintra!”. “I didn’t!”, he roared, making me jump. “It’s a child of surprise!”.
He walked over to me slowly; prepared for more flying fruit. “It was an accident”, he said. “I didn’t know she was pregnant, and neither did the father when I asked him for the law of surprise. I thought it would earn me a keg of ale at the most”. I laughed, and shook my head. “A keg of ale?”, I said. “You stupid man…”.
He put his hands on either side of my face. “Yes. Stupid enough to fall for a woman, who by rights belongs to someone else”. He put his forehead to mine. “Stupid enough to want your heart, when I know it’s not mine to have”.
I put my hands on his chest; and grabbed at the fabric of his shirt. “What are we doing, Geralt?”, I whimpered. “Everything wrong, it seems”, he groaned.
He pulled back from me; holding on to my shoulders; and boring his amber eyes into mine. “I can’t help it, little frog”, he said. “You said you didn’t want to be a part of someone else. But you are. You’ve shaped me; and I’ve shaped you. It’s unavoidable”. A single tear fell from my eyes. “But it doesn’t mean you have to lose yourself; or I myself”, he continued. “It only means that we... change”. I sniffled – embarrassed at my own reaction to his words. “But you said you don’t change…” He smiled. “I have changed. You’ve been a part of that change”, he breathed. “You wrote your name on my life, as I have written mine on yours. No matter where I travel and who I meet; you have made your mark on me. We aren’t an entity; but we are two of a whole”.
I put my hands on either side of his face; and laughed through my tears. “Please stop crying”, he said. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”, I sniveled. “Yes”, he admitted. I laughed out loud. “For someone so uneasy with human emotion, you do have a way with words”, I said. “Only for you, my lady”, he whispered; and kissed my lips.
---
We made love softly that night; taking care to not leave an inch of the other untouched. Geralts lips were the nourishment of my being, it seemed; and he let those lips touch every part of me that would bring me pleasure – seemingly finding pleasure himself, in nothing but the moans and whimpers he could draw from me. I came undone so many times I lost count, and the witcher came along with me. We were two of a whole.
When morning came; we hadn’t gotten much sleep – but for some reason, I’d never felt more awake. I knew what needed to happen. I knew that we would continue on our journey to Temeria; that I would marry Foltest; and that it would break both of our hearts when I did. There was nothing else that could be done.
I could not spend the rest of my life travelling with this man. I’d grow old, and he wouldn’t. I couldn’t be chasing monsters around the continent; when I was old and grey, and my bones were creaking. He could not give me children. Not that I was sure I wanted any; but our lives together would never be truly fulfilled – and his job never truly done.
We had each other now. And should we never see one another again; the marks we’d left on the others being would never be erased.
Geralts head was resting on my chest, and I was running my fingers through his hair; when there was a knock at the door. “Come in, Jaskier”, I called – quickly covering myself with the sheets.
The bard stepped inside; almost tripping over a plum. He looked around the room – stray fruit scattered across the floor. “Well”, he smirked. “Nothings changed here; I see”. He sat down by the table; pouring himself a goblet of wine. “So… when do we leave?”.
Geralt and me both looked at him with wonder. “Whose wife did you diddle this time?”, Geralt grumbled; laying back in the bed with his arms behind his head. I chuckled. “Uhm, sister; actually”, Jaskier replied; and took a sip of the wine. “Mmm! 1249; good year”. “Jaskier?...”, Geralt demanded. “Some lord, or another”, the bard said dismissively. “Apparently Jas… Jel… Jissanya, it was. Well, she’d been promised to Aretuza”. He looked at me apologetically. “They are quite fond of their virgins there. But I can tell you right now; that girl was not a maiden!”.
“Hels ass, Jaskier. Are you insistent on getting yourself killed before the end of the year?”, I chuckled at him. He stood up, looked at me; hurt in his eyes. “What if I told you it was true love?”, he said. I raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, you’re right. It would never work”, he chuckled.
I went to get out of bed, and gestured for him to turn around. “What?”, he shrugged. Geralt sat up and looked at him menacingly. “All right, all right. It’s not like any of you have anything I haven’t seen before – right, Geralt?”, the bard smirked; and covered his eyes with his hands. “I don’t want to know what that means”, I mumbled, and went to get dressed behind a divider in the corner.
---
We were met in the courtyard by Calanthe and her men from the day before. “Lady Y/N”, the queen said. “I hear there was trouble in your room last night”. My face reddened. “No trouble, your majesty”, I said. “Just… a discussion on our next move”. “Hmm…”, Calanthe frowned, looking from Geralt to me. “I trust you remember our conversation?”. I nodded and smiled. “I remember it well”, I said. “And I trust you, of anyone, will understand why I must live the life I choose, until I have to live the life I must”. Her face contracted into a smile for a second. “I do, my dear”. She sighed. “I just wish you hadn’t chosen as you have”. I smiled again.
“Thank you for your kind hospitality, your majesty”, I said. “And thank you for sacrifice”, she answered. “This is my war; but part of the burden of it has fallen upon you. If I could, I would undo it”. She looked at me earnestly; and then held my face in her hands; putting her forehead to mine. “If Foltest ever… should he ever be cruel to you; I will come up there; and I will rip his cock of with my bare hands”. I laughed. “I might take you up on that offer”. She chuckled, and kissed my forehead. “Be well, cousin”, she whispered.
Jaskier cleared his throat. “I am very sorry to disturb this special moment, your majesty, but I think one of the lords in there has an arrow with my name on it”. Geralt grunted.
“Witcher”, Calanthe said, letting go of me. “You will protect this woman with your life”. “You have my word”, Geralt said, and nodded at her. She narrowed her eyes at him. ”And go north. There are Nilfgaardian outposts further east”. Geralt frowned, and nodded again. “All right”, she said. “Now fuck off, all of you”.
We saddled up; Geralt and me on Roach; and Jaskier on – a quite unhappy – Bayrd.
On our way out the gates; I turned to the bard. “Jaskier; do you like my mushroom stew?”
He didn’t answer.
--- 
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thelioncourts · 4 years
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Tbh, even apart from the Geralt/garroter thing, "Her sweet kiss" just sounds more like a medieval fantasy "Jolene" than a simple love song. Esp when u think abt how it used to be a song where one person is speaking directly to another of indefinite gender (as u can see in Jaskier's notebook), but when Geralt and Yennefer reunite Jaskier made it explicitly abt a woman, and then when Geralt "broke up" w/ him he took "lovely/gorgeous" out the lyrics and just left "garroter".
“her sweet kiss” literally just has me sitting like this at all hours of the day, wondering exactly how else i was supposed to interpret this song
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i - ignorantly - gave no attention to the notebook at first. it took me getting on here to realize that i desperately should have given it attention. but! ignoring the notebook for just a moment, as anyone listening on the continent wouldn’t know of previous lyrics written, it really is a medieval fantasy “jolene”
The fairer sex, they often call it
But her love’s as unfair as a crook
It steals all my reason
Commits every treason
Of logic, with naught but a look
A storm breaking on the horizon
Of longing and heartache and lust
She’s always bad news
It’s always lose, lose
So tell me love, tell me, love
How is that just?
it’s this second part that things seem off, y’know? the first bit almost sounds like a typical ‘woman broke my heart’ song but it’s here that we’re introduced to a different person. jaskier is our narrator, the one who views “she” as bad news, and “love” is someone else, someone listening
But the story is this
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss
Her sweet kiss
But the story is this
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss
Her current is pulling you closer
And charging the hot, humid night
The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool
Better stay out of sight
I’m weak my love, and I am wanting
If this is the path I must trudge
I welcome my sentence
Give to you my penance
Garrotter, jury and judge
“her” and “you/you fool” and the voice break that accompanies “you fool” in a desperate attempt to convince and the entire line of “i’m weak, my love, and i am wanting” and “garroter, jury, and judge” and how geralt really is all of those things in one person
But the story is this
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss
Her sweet kiss
The story is this
She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss x3
and just - this chorus.
the story is this: she’ll destroy you. we see that on jaskier’s face so often throughout “rare species.” we have no idea what interactions, if any, geralt and yennefer and jaskier have had between the five years of the djinn to the dragon hunt, but jaskier is not pleased with her nor she with him and geralt still seems unsure of what to make of her but wants to make something of it all and there are these moments where the camera lingers on jaskier as geralt goes after yennefer, at least two, maybe three if i remember right, and he looks horribly troubled, and he knows. and he watches from close by as geralt and yennefer go at each other’s throats, watches as yennefer goes away, and he goes over only to receive the true brunt of it. is the story she destroying geralt’s or is it geralt and jaskier’s? is is both? 
somehow, in some magical way, it all gets worse when we look at the notebook. we get this - literally - 6 second scene of jaskier working on this song. “i’m weak, my love, and i am wanting/if this is the path i must trudge/i welcome my sentence/give to you my penance/gorgeous garroter, jury, and judge….lovely garroter….gorgeous garroter….which do you like better? lovely or gorgeous? or is the whole thing too cerebral?” and when he’s working on it he seems in good spirits! he’s waiting for geralt to return from a job, sitting patiently nearby, strumming his lute and looking up at the clear blue of the sky that matches his eyes, and there’s nothing in the scene that implies heartbreak like the song later does, like his voice later does.
and i’m going to link two posts here, one with the lyrics from the notebook and the other for a person who made screenshots of the notebook [x] [x]
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so tell me loveyou make me your (something)
how is that just
if i were a manof more merit
if i were a man of
resolve
i’d leave you behind
Get me some peace of mind
From a bottleof grain alcohol
but im weak
my love, and I am wanting
If this is the path I must trudge
I’ll welcome my sentence
Give to you my penance
Gorgeous garroter, jury and judge
we don’t know all the exacts, obviously, but from what we can gather the song 1) initially only sounded as though it was for “my love” and jaskier as our narrator. there was no “she” no third entity, it sounded like a song of untouched devotion. and it brings a lot of thoughts with it, a lot of truths, and a knowledge that jaskier, after this mountainside dragon hunt, scribbled out new lyrics, wrote about a woman destroying things with her sweet kiss, wrote about warnings and foolish emotions, and his own heartbreak at it witnessing it all. it’s. such a telling song that i truly sit back and wonder what the creators expected us to get from it without it being what we’ve gotten. and i’m curious to see if it plays any part in season 2. afterall, they all have to be reunited after the dragon hunt, yes? geralt and yennefer, geralt and jaskier, jaskier and yennefer, yennefer and jaskier and ciri? as jaskier was working on the song, i feel like it’s common knowledge that jaskier would perform it, that it would make its way around the continent like all his other famous songs did, and someone geralt knows would hear it, maybe he himself. and he may be dense, but he has to know, right? he’ll have to know….
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squidpro-quo · 4 years
Note
For the prompt : Jaskier is kidnapped and used as leverage against Geralt (I'd be forever grateful if you did this op)
    Thank you so much for this prompt! A perfect opportunity for angst and whump and hurt and comfort, i can only hope i fit it all in here. This was a load of fun!
Jaskier strained against the rope tying his hands together, reminded of another time when the same circumstances had led to his life changing—he’d argue for the better most of the time—and now it might just happen again, except the change to his life will be that it ends. His fingers are turning numb, with how long he’d been held in the stone room it’s no wonder, only a question of how much longer until they figure out that it was all for naught. Bribing the innkeep, getting the herbs necessary to drug him, the fortified hold they’d decided to hole up in? It was all too much effort for a lost cause, but he’d kept his mouth shut for once knowing that if he spoke a word of the futility of their plan, then they’d have no reason to keep him alive anymore. 
    The door creaked; the sound of the key scraping in the old lock had him struggling to scramble as far away from the door as possible, his body protesting every movement even as he knew it wouldn’t help. They’d made up their mind. 
    “How’s the little songbird now? Ready to sing a sweeter song?” The man that entered had a grin with the curve of a sickle, sharp and cutting, to offset the fact that his lisp would have undercut any threats made in anyone else’s mouth. The sharp whistle of his breath through the cracked crags of his teeth accompanied his heavy steps and Jaskier bit back a retort about his singing’s quality in favor of staving off the inevitable by just a few seconds. 
    “No refrain? I’d heard it was hard to shut you up, not the other way around. Guess some things just end up embellished into lies, don’t they?” The look in his grey eyes grew hard.
    Jaskier knew what was coming, he might have found himself in trouble more times than he could count but he’d learned when to expect a punch by the set of a man’s shoulders. This time was no different. The blow caught him across the temple, leaving his ears ringing and the ache in his head redoubled after he’d just started to regain some peace from the pain. He slipped sideways down the wall, unable to catch himself when he couldn’t feel the stone beneath his fingers, to the hoarse laugh of the man he’d realized was the orchestrator of it all. Jaskier rested his forehead against the cool stone floor, hoping it would take away some of the pounding that he felt reverberating through his skull. Like metal clashing against metal, the clanging sounded deceptively close despite the fact that he knew it was only his tired mind playing tricks on him. 
    “Talk,” the man ordered, in a deceptively soft tone, forcing Jaskier to look up at him to read his lips and discern his meaning. “You can talk to that monster, but not to a human?”
“What do you want me to say?” Jaskier couldn’t hold his tongue any longer, though his own voice sounded muted and echoing inside his head. His fear had been a thin veneer before, but now it was being poked through with the usual thorns of irritation and the aching need to be glib. “That I haven’t seen him in months? That I don’t know where he is? That I doubt he knows, or really cares, where I am either? You didn’t understand it the last time I said it, but I guess the constant whistling can get in the way of listening comprehension.” 
“The entire continent knows you’re companions, traveling together, dining together… sleeping together,” the man raised his eyebrows, before continuing, “You know him better than anyone.” 
“Do I?” Jaskier swallowed, to get the dry taste of irony out of his mouth and to keep from retching at the way the world turned blurry before him. “If sleeping together was all it took, I’d have several dozen of those I’ve courted lining up at your doors. So I’d say you’re out of luck on that shaky limb of logic.”
It was a good joke, considering he’d likely die just from the surprise of Countess de Stael riding up so many months after leaving his poems as ash in her fireplace. Or Geralt, who last he’d seen was firmly in the arms of someone Geralt had risked his life for against all odds and against all wishes, her own included. Not that she’d seemed to mind at the end. 
“Is that a note of pity I hear?” 
“I can’t do many things, fight a murderous band of men for example, but I know when I’m not wanted. I don’t begrudge anyone that.” He didn’t, he loved freely and indiscriminately, pouring his affection into the world along with his quips and commentary as an inexhaustible resource. Because what better way to try and stay a memory in someone’s heart long after the flare of passion has gone cold. He couldn’t help it if Geralt had been a never-ending well for him to attempt to fill, not realizing how he’d fallen down into it in the process and the answer he’d been chasing had been merely his own deluded echo in return. 
“He might not come for you now then—” Jaskier had a brief moment of hope at the contemplative look on the man’s face, the sliver of mercy amidst the cold calculation. “But he’ll surely come for your headless corpse. If your songs have even a fraction of truth, he’s the sort to be mad about that kind of thing.” 
Cold ice slid down Jaskier’s spine, because the man was right. Geralt was nothing if not a righteous man, perhaps surly and grumpy to a fault, but he’d fight anyone that threatened the helpless, never mind that it happened to be Jaskier. He’d written songs about it after all, he’d know. Blood pounded in his ears, the sound seeming too loud in the confines of his terror and he could almost imagine the keep itself was resounding with it, the thump of his heartbeat bouncing through the walls in an irregular series of bangs. 
The man snatched his attention back when he slid his axe free of the belt at his waist, hefting it for a better grip and leaning down to yank Jaskier upright. 
“Wait! Wait, what if you just let me go? There’s a new idea, worth considering—”
“Don’t worry, if it really doesn’t matter who ends up dead as long as it’s someone he could’ve saved then we have an endless supply of who to use. As you’ve said, it doesn’t take anyone special,” the man said, rank breath wafting into Jaskier’s face, and he wished that wasn’t the last thing he’d ever hear. 
Axe shining in the flickering light of the torch, the man shoved Jaskier into the right angle despite his best efforts to scrounge together enough strength to resist. The man lifted his arm, already evident that he wouldn’t be able to make it one clean cut and didn’t particularly care, and swung. 
Jaskier had closed his eyes, content with the darkness if that’s all that was left of life anyway, and so the sound of wood breaking from close by and the short gurgle of a last breath was all he knew before there were hands on his face. 
Calloused, rough, and warm, familiar from the many years and he leaned into them so quickly they were all that held him up. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know, but he did anyway because he needed to see, to remember the sight of Geralt leaning over him, engulfing him in his shadow and tracing the bruises on his face with a touch so gentle he could’ve sworn it was a dream. 
“Jaskier,” just the rumbling timbre of Geralt’s voice was enough to make Jaskier realize that he’d been worried, chest heaving and sword bloodied from his rush through the keep. To him. 
“Cutting it pretty close, no?” Jaskier snorted, relief making him lightheaded. Relief that he wasn’t dead, that Geralt was there. “Did you get it? He was about to cut my head off, that  kind of death offers so many opportunities for pithy jokes. Would be a shame to waste it…” 
“I came as fast as I could,” Geralt said, tone not plaintive in the slightest but desperate, as if he thought Jaskier was really doubting him. As if he hadn’t been doing just that not a few minutes ago. 
Jaskier swallowed, this time to keep the words, all the damning and too honest words he wanted to bare before Geralt, down and keep what he’d been willing to carry to the grave with him just a while longer. 
Before he could find anything to say, Geralt pulled him close, palms brushing over his ruined doublet and down to Jaskier’s deadened hands, enveloping his fingers in a grip he could’ve sworn was trembling just slightly. His other hand slipped into Jaskier’s hair, until he felt the spot last touched by the man lying dead at their feet. 
Jaskier hadn’t meant to flinch but he saw the way Geralt’s eyes narrowed at the movement and tried to stand on his own to make up for the moment of weakness. 
“In the area, were you? I don’t think you’ll get much coin for this job.” He wanted to ask, wanted to see if he was more trouble than he was worth but he didn’t want to hear the ugly answer.
“I was already searching for you, when I heard.” Geralt’s hand stayed on his back, just like when he’d carried him around in the djinn’s aftermath. “Last time I saw you, you were covered in your own blood, like now. You left… and I didn’t know where you’d gone.” 
Jaskier stumbled, both from the way the room seemed to spin beneath his feet at the change in altitude as he got up and the fact that Geralt had followed him this time, sought him out and found him. 
“I got into yet more trouble, as you can see. Nothing new there.” He rubbed his newly freed hands and grimaced at the red welts the ropes had left behind. He’d have to wear his longer-sleeved wardrobe to cover those up. He looked up to find Geralt’s gaze still raking over him, the furrow in his brow the one that always formed when he was considering something. “Did you need something?”
“You shouldn’t be alone.” 
“W-what?” Jaskier stuttered. “What does that mean?”
“I’m trouble,” Geralt continued, looking like he was choosing his words carefully. “And you are too.”
    “Thank you for the astute observations… Where are you going with this?”
    “I already said it. That you shouldn’t be alone.” 
    Jaskier waited, but Geralt stared at him with the same set look on his face as when Roach gave him a neigh instead of a bump in the chest, unsure what to say. But words had always been Jaskier’s forte, even if he swallowed them down sometimes. 
    “Are you saying you think trouble loves company?”
    Geralt nodded, and that was enough for Jaskier. He’d never be empty of what he poured into the world, and so when something spilled into him instead, he overflowed. Geralt’s empty well might just have a bucket of water inside it, and he’d managed to fish it out after all. 
prompts open
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intricate-oeuvre · 4 years
Text
On how to be deadly || Geralt of Rivia || part IX
Word count: 2.9k+
Summary: Axelia is Witcher experiment herself and has gone through same harsh Trials as Geralt, but she wasn’t so lucky with the outcome. Her vision didn’t become better. Therefore, she was rendered blind in the end. And because of that, she solely uses her Witcher senses to make her ways. Only potions can give her false sense of sight for limited time.Somewhere along the way she meets the Rivian. Who’s interested to know how she’s been killing monsters and hasn’t been killed herself yet.
Warnings: BLOOD, that’s it, maybe angst
A/N: I have fucking awesome fighting scenes in my head, cant put them on paper tho, Imma visualiser not a writer xD
part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue
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“I—what?” Ciri looked at Axelia as witcheress stood up.
“You’re destiny.” Axelia mumbled again.
“Destiny? As in I can do... what?” Ciri got up as well, her uneasy glance sliding to Jaskier for a second.
“You could change whatever is happening between me and Geralt.” Axelia explained.
“You don’t know that yet.” Jaskier reminded her.
“Maybe she’s not the destiny that mage was talking about.” Jaskier continued.
“Mage? What?” Ciri was getting more and more confused. So, Jaskier took responsibility and explained to her what, all that Axelia had said, had meant. Meanwhile, Axelia was pacing back and forth. Jaskier’s eyes skipping to her occasionally, just to make sure that she-witcher doesn’t hyperventilate.
“You choose the love of your life, but you have no saying in choosing your soulmate.” Axelia murmured to herself, pointing to invisible things to rearrange thoughts in her head.
And it took some time to explain everything and answer all the questions that Ciri had asked.
“You need to go.” Axelia mumbled when it was starting to get dark.
“You’re staying here?” Ciri quirked eyebrow at her. Axelia only hummed. In a similar way that Geralt did, thus making Ciri look at Jaskier, who only sent her ‘see I told you’ look in return.
“You can come with us; I am sure that we can find you a place to stay.” Ciri continued.
“Thank you, but I’ll pass on that. I need some time alone. And besides I have job to do here.” Axelia said standing up and putting back on her forearm braces.
“Are you sure?” Jaskier asked as he picked up her cloak and putted it around her shoulders.
“You know that I can take on that monster.” Axelia said, sending appreciative look towards the bard for putting on her cloak.
“No, not the monster part. You know…” Jaskier trailed off.
“Oh. I’m… fine.” Axelia sighed.
“What kind of monster?” Ciri asked, waiting for Jaskier now, so they both could leave Axelia to her own devices.
“Ghouls. They say they are at the old crypts. Where all the war-heroes lay.” Axelia shrugged towards Ciri.
“You got everything you need to fight them?” Ciri asked, just to make sure.
“Got my silver sword.” Axelia nodded and tapped the hilt of it on her back. “Thank you for bring it back.”
“Of course. Silver is expensive these days.” Ciri shrugged and her eyes impatiently landed on the bard next to Axelia.
“Go. I don’t have all night to fight. I need to move.” Axelia turned back to Jaskier.
���Stay safe.” He mumbled quietly to her.
“You know I am witcher. Being safe is not my forte.” Axelia sent him a small smile.
“You just live for the danger.” He sighed and pulled her in for the last hug.
“I find thrill in it.” She corrected him, basking in his hug as she murmured into his chest.
“Will I see you again?” Jaskier whispered.
“Most likely, no.” Axelia hummed in his shirt, letting calm wash over her. She was done with this. Not sure if Ciri was the destiny that was needed to fix the slanted fates.
“Then I wish you wholly good luck.” Jaskier pulled away a little to look down at her.
“Thank you. For every little thing you have done to me and for me.” Axelia smiled softly at him.
“With pleasure.” Jaskier nodded at her, and pressed a soft kiss to her temple.
“Can you give this to Geralt?” Axelia turned to Ciri before she had time to leave.
“Yeah.” Ciri took hold of the black tulle blindfold that Axelia was extending towards her and tied the fabric around the hilt of her sword that was sitting snuggly on her back.
“He hates it.” Axelia smirked at her and then bid them farewell as she made har way deeper in the woods.
***
“So, she has been your soulmate all this time and you didn’t think of telling me?” Yennefer was standing with her hands crossed on her chest. Geralt was sitting and only slightly rolled his eyes at her comment but didn’t answer, feeling, rather, knowing, that she was about to continue.
“And you two have been having these run-ins occasionally?” She raised her eyebrow at him.
“You know I didn’t choose for that to happen.” Geralt defended.
“You have a tendency to not choose for things to happen to actually happen.” Yennefer grunted. Witcher was pretty sure she was making reference about Ciri.
“You have problem with Axelia?” Geralt asked with tilt of his head.
“Yes. After all that dragon hunt, we really don’t see eye to eye. And now she’s here. Saying that she has some claim over you. That does not really help me with handling things between us, Geralt.” Yennefer tried to reason.
“Claim? She hasn’t claimed anything. No one has.” Geralt explained, growing more irritated with Yen by the second.
“Don’t you love me?” Yennefer huffed turning away. Geralt wasn’t really looking for all this drama. His mind was still occupied with thoughts of the girl that was still somewhere in the woods.
“Yen…” Geralt hummed. “You know that—"
In that moment Ciri walked in with Jaskier.
“Did we interrupt something?” Jaskier asked, looking between Geralt and Yennefer.
“No.” Geralt answered.
“Yes.” Yennefer said at the same time. Geralt’s eyes slid to Yen, low-key challenging for her to shut up.
“Me or her. You choose.” Yennefer gave him ultimatum, with dissatisfied pout.
The silence took over the room.
Geralt was looking at Yennefer with disbelief written all over his features as his mouth fell open.
Jaskier gulped at her sentence, his eyes sliding to Ciri briefly, almost asking her if they shouldn’t leave the room to these two who were at each other’s throats. And Ciri had the same thought as Jaskier and with uncomfortable clear of her throat she rolled her shoulders, making the tulle around the hilt of her sword swing as if caught in a breeze. Movement catching Geralt’s attention. With furrowed eyebrows he looked at Ciri, waiting for the explanation.
“She told me to give this to you.” Ciri whispered quietly as she reached to untie it. Girl’s eyes momentarily flicking to Yennefer, gauging her reaction. Geralt took hold of it and turned it over in his hands. Axelia’s scent hit his nose. Her real scent and not the one he could smell coming from Jaskier. He didn’t want to dwell on the fact as to why the bard was drenched in her smell. Not the first time. Geralt knew that she trusted Jaskier, and so did Ciri. Except for Yennefer, she always had some enmity with Jaskier and vice versa.
“Well? I’m waiting.” Yennefer tapped her foot on the ground. Geralt stood up from where he was sitting and walked up to Ciri, tying the tulle back around the hilt of her sword.
“Where is she?” Geralt asked Jaskier.
“The old crypt.” Bard explained.
“And the monster?” Witcher’s eyes flickered back to Ciri.
“Ghouls.” Ciri explained looking at Geralt.
“No. Not any ghouls.” Geralt grunted and picked up his own sword from the table and secured it on his back.
“What do you mean?” Jaskier narrowed his eyes at him.
“Alghouls.” Geralt said grimly.
“And she only had silver sword with her.” Ciri stated, getting along the train of thought of the witcher.
“Fuck.” Geralt said displeased and sent a look at Yennefer over his shoulder before he went outside.
“Geralt, you didn’t answer!” sorceress called after him, making Geralt stop in his tracks.
“I think he made his choice.” Jaskier dared to answer for his friend.
“Hmm.” Witcher hummed deeply and went to get Roach and head for the crypts.
Yennefer was left there stunned.
“Jaskier.” She hissed at the bard.
“What? I think that was pretty obvious.” Bard answered.
Ciri looked at Yennefer, then her eyes slid at the back of her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the tulle around the hilt of the sword. Her mind drifted back to Axelia, or whatever she had met at the forest. Ciri had never met a female witcher, nor she ever thought that there was one. Geralt never really mentioned her. Yes, he had said that there was this fierce and loyal to the bone warrior that he had pleasure to meet and fight alongside, but he never told Ciri her name nor who she was. But Ciri had deciphered enough from his speeches to understand that this girl was important to him. He never really had talked about Yennefer in the same way. Of course, Yen was like mother to Ciri, but there was something oddly similar to Axelia and her.
Ciri had found herself a new loving family. She only hoped that Axelia could find love again.
“Ciri?” questioned Yennefer, wanting to hear whatever Ciri had to say about this ordeal.
 “Geralt didn’t choose Axelia as his soulmate, they were made to be like that. As for you and him, I—” Ciri was trying to find the words so that she wouldn’t offend Yennefer.
“You chose each other.” Jaskier stated. “Their meetings are unavoidable. And Geralt will go after her even if you say no, they will never stop finding each other as much as you would hate it, Yennefer. You may love him, and he may love you, but they are undividable. Geralt is hers, and Axelia will always be his.” Bard dared to tell the sorceress the truth.
Yennefer let out a deep, irritated sigh through her nose.
“We better go.” Ciri looked at Jaskier instead. She had no saying in this, whatever she would say would not change a thing. She already had done whatever that mage had told Axelia.
And Ciri hoped that she was that destiny that was needed to make the fates less slated.
Meanwhile Geralt was hoping that alghouls haven’t eaten Axelia alive.
***
Dread had settled deep in her gut, when Axelia had realized that they were not ghouls but to be more precise- alghouls. She had thought that she’ll need to fight off only couple of ghouls, but here she was slicing and dicing ghoul after ghoul as the bigger alghouls were slowly coming closer to her. The latter being more aggressive and more challenging than regular ghoul. With untrained eye one could not tell the difference between two, but Axelia knew enough.
She knew that alghouls had more wit than regular ghoul and then she decided to go after alghouls first. Maybe if she’s lucky, she’ll kill the leader of the pack and thus weaken it all. For whatever Axelia held holy she prayed that there were no cemetaurs.
And when all the smaller ghouls suddenly scattered wherever, Axelia knew that her prayers have been pointless.
“Shit!” she hissed, slicing another alghoul with her silver sword. How could she have been so dumb and not pack any white vinegar with her. Her hand run along her belt, in a search for a potion that could actually help her.
“Shit! Really?!” she hissed when she couldn’t find Black Blood potions nowhere on her belt. Had it fallen out while she was fighting Geralt? For fucks sake, now she was really doomed. With angry scream Axelia, planted her feet one in front of another and quickly made her way towards the cemetaur. Now all she had was her trusty silver sword, and a hope that this wasn’t her last fight.
With swooping motions, she raised the silver blade above her head and slashed down the side of cemetaur’s hand. Her movement seamlessly flowing in wide pirouette as she cut down three ghouls behind herself. With sure and certain steps, she rounded the cemetaur, while with slashing cuts killed ghouls and alghouls left and right. And whenever she had a clear chance at stabbing, wounding and gnashing at the monster, she took it. Couple of times stumbling because ghouls were grabbing her feet and trying to knock her down. Just to get on top of her and rip at her flesh.
Her figure seemed to get bloodier and bloodier by every cut she made. Be it her own blood that was running down from her busted lip and nose. Or be it from the monsters that she tried to cut down so desperately. But it seemed that they were taking over, and even might feast on the flesh of an unlucky witcher for a change. Axelia wasn’t afraid of death or dying. But she had wanted to live a little longer. Maybe clean up her own messes.
As she raised the sword to her side to strike the monster form below and up it’s middle, monster seemed to realize her movement and moved quicker. With it’s huge hand it struck Axelia in her jaw, making her stumble back and tip on a dead alghoul. Her silver sword flying somewhere to the side.
“Shit!” she screamed as necrophages leaped at her, to get the fresh meat first.
“Fuck no!” She yelled and elbowed one in it’s face, gaining a split second to roll on her stomach and crawl for her sword. But she was stopped by the sudden pain in her shin. Looking at her leg, he saw that alghoul had itself attached to her leg, trying to bite it off. With a grunt, she kicked it in its head with her other foot. Noticing all the creatures leaping closer like hungry wretched dogs, she pulled out her dagger and sliced three of the smaller ghouls, but since it was no silver, she got nothing from it, only gnash at her abdomen. Either they all pranced at her and eat her while she’s still alive or she’ll bleed out, faster than she’d like to admit.
This was it.
She was trying to rid herself of all the monsters, but as one fell, another came in it’s place. Not to mention the cemetaur that was still rounding her and waiting for the right moment to jump on her. Axelia saw it finally move towards her, she tried to reach for her silver sword again. As she felt it’s repulsive breath on the back of her neck, she suddenly was pulled back by her limbs from underneath the monster. She screamed again, not sure at first who was pulling at her legs. As she quickly sat up, dagger in her hand ready to strike, someone placed a glass potion bottle in her bloody hands.
“Drink.” Came Geralt’s deep voice as he raised his own silver sword and expertly sliced at the cemetaur. Axelia pulled out the cork with her teeth and emptied the content of the bottle. The taste hitting her tongue and back of her throat. She hissed at the bitterness. Black Blood potion. Next few hours her blood will be poisons to whoever dared to feast on it. Then her eyes and veins and blood vessels around them turned black. Her skin almost seemingly translucent because of it. Her body was fighting the high toxicity. At least this was a plan B, for a moment.
Her eyes scanned surroundings briefly and with painful grunt she pushed herself up. Stumbling and cutting at alghoul she made her way for her silver sword. For a second she couldn’t sense it. Had it fell in some old grave? Even in this spilt second of confusion, a monster had made it’s way behind her.
“Left!” Geralt called at her and she looked at him. Next second her own silver sword was hurling through air, and swiftly she ducked to her right, as the sword lodged itself in the head of the monster, right above her shoulder. Turning and pulling her sword out of the dead monster, Axelia continued to twirl and gnash at the monsters. And the only sounds in the otherwise peaceful night, was sounds of swords cutting flesh, monster screeches and roars, and the heavy grunts and breathes that Axelia and Geralt let out.
At some point with all the monsters trying to get meat of the living, Axelia and Geralt ended up almost fighting back to back. And as finally the count of ghouls and alghouls seemed to drop, the cemetaur turned more aggressive. Axelia seemed to have locked ger gaze on one alghoul, the last she was about to kill that night, adrenaline being the only thing keeping her upright. But as she was distracted by it, she didn’t notice that Geralt had killed last two ghouls somewhere in front of her or the fact that cemetaur had chosen her as it’s first meal.
“Axelia!” Geralt’s eyes grew big, as he run to her, slicing the head off of the alghoul she was trying to kill from it’s behind. Next second Geralt was impossibly close to her. His right hand with his silver sword going above her left shoulder and wedging it in cemetaur’s throat. His left hand pulling Axelia’s sword from her hand, and with quick, skilled hand movement, her sword ended up in his now empty right hand, as he lodged it in the stumbling monster’s scull. Cemetaur falling dead right behind Axelia.
Silence.
Nothing but the cold night and their heavy breathing.
Axelia stood there, her chest pressed against his, frozen. Not moving. Her mind racing to try and catch up with everything that just happened. Geralt took a step back from her, his own jet-black gaze trained on nothing in particular somewhere behind Axelia.
“You could be dead.” Geralt hissed at her. Insulting retort went over her head, she blinked but didn’t answer. Bruises and wounds finally making themselves know on her tired body.
“I think I’m gonna pass out…” Axelia mumbled, her stance wavering as her eyes seemed empty and her shoulders slumped down.
“Now?” Geralt asked, his eyes finally turning to her. Axelia didn’t answer, her eyes fluttered shut and she fell towards him. With displeased grunt he caught her effortlessly in his hands.
part I || part II || part III || part IV || part V || part VI || part VII || part VIII || part IX || part X || part XI || part XII || part XIII | Epilogue
~~~
tags:  @boiled-onionrings​​​​ @fandomwithnolifesblog​​​​ @901seconds​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​ @shesakillerkween @your-dreams-are-strong​​​​ @stitchattacks​​​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​​​ @stormfire6​​​​ @mr-illegal-king​​​​ @stretchkingblog97​​​​ @mikariell95​​​​ @geralt-of-motherfucking-rivia​​​​ @martian-m​​​ @republicansithlord​​​​ @notso-fetch​​​​ @lizliz3107​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​ @arsaky-lou​​​​ @eternallyvenus​​​​ @le-reina-asesina @alwayshave-faith​​​​ @writingmi​​​​ @staringmoony​​​​ @kenai731 @holychic​​​​ @dramaticturnaway​​​​ @ihopeyousteponarosepetal​​​​ @seouldesire​​​​ @runs-with-sciss0rs @yes-captainstark​​​​​ @fandomhell97​​​​​ @newtdisneywho​​​ @ekaymnslvs​​​ @deansbbysblog​​​ @hoppelessdreamer @dejewskoo​​​ @sleepy-bunnie​​​ @strangerliaa​​​ @puffedchoco
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eldritcharchive · 4 years
Text
sawed off shotgun
Read on AO3 | @bamf-jaskier‘s Witchertober 2020 Day 15 - Father
If you ask Lambert directly, he’ll deny he even has a father. His mother, he’ll tell you about, because Vesemir claimed him when he was just this side of too old for training. Mama could do no wrong except, perhaps, staying with a man who routinely beat the shit out of her, and if she was too weak to survive a beating, well Lambert was always a good back up.
“Father? Nah, my ma pulled me out of a bog,” he tells Voltehre one night when his friend asks about his family. “Ask Vesemir. When he came and got me he actually had me fucking bathe, I was so covered in peat moss and mud.”
They’re sitting cross-legged on Lambert’s bed in their year’s dorm - their year is unique in that four boys survived the Grasses and the Dreams, and so four of them will be going through the Trial of the Mountains together. To say they felt confident would be an understatement. (When Lambert thinks back to this night, he remembers it with a lecture Eskel gave him - he’s not sure if they actually happened at the same time. Eskel pulled him aside, gripped his shoulders, and looked him dead in the eyes. “You’re good, Lambert, but not invincible,” he said. “None of you are invincible.”)
“You’re full of shit,” Voltehre says with a laugh, shoving Lambert’s shoulder. Lambert breaks into a grin.
“How do you know, huh? Could be telling the truth. Maybe I’m half-siren, you don’t know,” Lambert says with a laugh.
“If you were a siren you wouldn’t be so fucking ugly,” Gawain hisses from his bed. “Now shut the fuck up and go to bed.”
After Voltehre dies, Gawain, Lambert, and Breca drift apart. Lambert’s the only one who survives more than five years on the Path and he’s furious. He takes it out on Vesemir, usually, though both Geralt and Eskel sports scars from their attempts to comfort him. He gains a reputation among the remaining Wolves - Lambert, Lambert, what a prick - and he prefers it that way. He’s starting to think he’s cursed.
Because when he’s in his sixth year on the Path, he goes home. He finds the shithole town in Aedirn where Vesemir found him and picks up a few contracts as a pretense to wander the village. It’s small, never grew more than seven families, and at the very edge of town still stands a sad, half-collapsed hut decorated with empty bottles and dead plants. Home, sweet, home.
He waits, of course, until he’s finished the contracts. May as well squeeze as much out of this place as he can before he breaks Geralt’s precious “Witcher’s Code” and bashes his father’s head in. The first one is simple, a pack of drowners killing fishermen on the river banks. Take out the drowners, blow up their lair. Barely worth the coin offered, but whatever.
Lambert wishes he negotiated the second contract - he spent hours in the godsdamned woods sniffing the fucking air like a dog, following the scent of blood to what the barber-surgeon assured him was a lair of nekkers. When he finally finds footprints, it becomes clear it’s a fiend and he’s wildly underprepared. His anger and frustration push him forward anyway.
“You’re not invincible, Lamb,” he mutters, dragging the fiend’s head behind him by its antler. His insides are burning from toxicity poisoning, the wounds on his leg ooze with blood and pus as Swallow slowly pulls his skin back together. “Stupid fucking Eskel. Hate when he’s right.”
Lambert manages to get to the barber-surgeon's house sometime around midnight, pounding on the door, well aware he looks like any man’s worst fucking nightmare. In the end, he’s luck if he gets paid at all - the barber actually fucking screams like Lambert is unrecognizable. Still, he pays him more than promised to ‘get the fuck out of here thank you very much,’ and Lambert shrugs and tosses the fiend’s head at the man, knocking him over. No time like the present.
There are a lot of things a house can represent. To most kids, it’s home - warmth and love and kindness, the feeling of comfort and rest. The hut Lambert grew up in, in his mind and through the trials, became a monster. With all of his training and bluster, he was afraid of coming back to this house that sags sadly, half-buried under moss and rot. The touches of his mother - the paintings of Melitele in the window, the lace curtains - are gone, replaced with nothing. Rage wells up in his chest and Lambert lunges forward, bodily crashing through the rotted wood door.
The stench inside is suffocating - blood and piss, shit, and decay. Someone wretches in the corner on what used to be a bed, and in the center of the home is a pile of grime and bones and lace curtains.
“Who the fuck are you?” The man on the bed wheezes; Lambert turns his full fury toward him and the frail, rotting man and he shrinks. “W-witcher sir, please, mercy. I’m but a poor - ”
“Shut the fuck up,” Lambert hisses. “What the fuck did you do to her, old man? What did you do to mom?”
“...Lambert? Y-your alive..?”
“Answer the question!” Lambert says, storming through the sludge that was his life and pulling out the knife he uses for beheading monsters, still covered in Fiend blood. “What. Did you do. To my mother?” He emphasizes each part of his question with a jab of his knife.
The skeletal remains of his father scowl and he tries to draw himself up, to intimidate Lambert. It almost makes the Witcher laugh. “That bitch,” this waste of a man spits, literally and figuratively, “was hiding money from me. Me! I owned her. And she was trying to leave. She got what was coming to her.”
Lambert’s grip tightens on his knife; what had he expected? To save his aging mother? She wouldn’t want a Witcher son, even for as short of a time as she’d have him. Death, however, left to rot in a house without a proper burial, threatened each day with necrophages - the fact that his father remained meant the murder was recent. Geralt would let this man suffer, maybe burn the cottage and the rotted man inside alive. But Lambert is no saint, and he’s well out of patience. The knife slips into his father’s throat easier than any monster’s neck. If the shack is on fire when he leaves, that’s the villagers’ issue.
If you ask Lambert directly, he’ll tell you he doesn’t have a family. He doesn’t, not now, not for a long time yet.
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everlarkficexchange · 4 years
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Everlark Fic Exchange. PROMPTS
Springtime Edition 2020.
These are the prompts we’ve received so far.
Crossed out prompts have already been selected and are being turned into fics!
A huge ‘Thank you’ to everyone who’s taken the time to come up with an idea and send it our way. Your prompts are the heart of the Exchange. Without them, our authors wouldn’t get to write all those beautiful fics. So, please, keep them coming!
You haven’t sent anything yet? Don’t worry, there’s still time. We’ll be receiving prompts until March 8.  Don’t be afraid to inspire us!
Prompts:
Prompt 1: Middle Mellark brother never wanted a baby bro. Spends half his life defending or admiring or manipulating Peeta, but the other half hating him for being so perfect (the favorite sweet talker and best baker wrestler). Whether to help or torment him, Rye asks reserved Katniss on a date to get a reaction. Maybe told as a wedding toast? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 2: Katniss is a high end house painter who works with expensive decorators, hired to paint an up and coming artists home. Turns out it’s Peeta, the boy her mother saved from an abusive home, who then disappeared. [submitted by @niceworksherlock]
Prompt 3: Imaginative only child Prim loves acting out all sorts of adventures with her favorite action figures Katniss and Peeta. (Toy Story-ish talking toys?) [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 4: Gale attempts to shoot Peeta during a hijacking episode on the Star Squad. Leaving Peeta wounded but not fatally. Katniss thinks Gale killed him. [submitted by Anonymous]
Prompt 5: Prompt has been removed.
Prompt 6: Medieval Au: Queen Katniss is in love. Too bad the person, Peeta is a renounced rebellion leader now turned into the personal sexslave of King Cato Snow, the son of Coriolanus Snow. With each passing day its becoming more and more dangerous for this star-crossed lovers to survive. Will she risk her family (sister Prim and mom) for love or will she be able to utilise the secrets of the castle Capitol in her favour to usurp the evil King and his father? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 7: Katniss Everdeen the daughter of a billionaire tries to antagonise her father. So she decides to date poor, uneducated simple boy Peeta. Her whole family (even Prim) hates him. Too bad his father has already arranged her marriage with his business partner's son Gale, a smart, handsome and successful man. Will she really fall for Peeta or will she bow to her father's will? Does Peeta feel himself worthy of Katniss? [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds]
Prompt 8: Peeta is a rich ceo and in love with another who disappeared before their marriage. So he withdraw within himself. But then he meets katniss( her background is up to you ) and falls in love for the second time. [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview]
Prompt 9: Katniss is a commoner and peeta is a cruel king. He wants katniss to be his mistress. How will they fall in love is up to you. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 10: katniss and peeta are best friends who were in a friends w benefits arrangement in the past. now the hunger for each other is coming back. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 11: in panem au where everlark isn't reaped and peeta knocks up katniss. [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]
Prompt 12: katniss walks out of the fitting room wearing only a bikini to ask her friend if it suits her but it isnt her friend at the other side of the door but peeta. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 13: Katniss and Peeta work things out after the first Games and become closer and closer, and their love grows deeper. One day though, they are caught by Mrs. Everdeen and a fight ensues...(outcome is up to you, as long as it is Everlark!) [submitted by @albinokittens300]
Prompt 14: THG The Witcher AU with Katniss = Geralt, Peeta = Yenn, Prim = Ciri [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 15: A Below Deck inspired Everlark. Bonus points for including Odesta. [submitted by @historywriter2007]
Prompt 16: Hades!Katniss/Persephone!Peeta Katniss has stolen herself a husband. As Peeta becomes acclimated to being co ruler of the underworld Katniss finds herself bewitched by him beyond any measure she believed possible. But someone is not too happy with Katniss and has vowed vengeance. Vengeance in the form of the husband Katniss has come to revere. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]
Prompt 17: Everlark enemies to lovers, a long standing grudge (could be anything, even simple) but somehow it is discovered that Katniss is a bone marrow match for Peeta. If she doesn't donate he will die. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone​]
Prompt 18: A Wrinkle in Time AU - Meg!Katniss, Charles Wallace!Prim, Calvin!Peeta. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone​]
Prompt 19: Everlark inspired by Netflix show Love is blind. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 20: Peeta is the CEO and katniss is his secretary. They have an affair and katniss gets pregnant but when she tells peeta he doesn't believe her and accuse her of trying to trap him. What will he do when he realize his mistake and how will he win katniss back. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 21: High school romance based on the movie Wild Child. [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview]
Prompt 22: Set in early 20th century. Katniss and Peeta are from two rival families who have been enemies since forever. They have a chance meeting which led to them falling in love. They are completely unaware of their identity. Will their love survive or will their relationship crumble. [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview]
Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his commonlaw wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeens daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 24: After Prim survives her first reaping, Katniss realizes she must have better plan for Prim’s future; fights to reclaim rights to the apothecary; wins it back after drawn out legal battle; installs her mom and Prim as owners. But Katniss not welcome in town for her Seam looks and distasteful takeover of a town business, and she’s not welcome in Seam as she refuses to marry Gale. So now 18 and past reaping, what will she do, where will she go, does anyone need her, can she let herself need anyone? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 25: Panem’s Mellark bakers are practically royalty, but with power comes responsibility. Peeta struck deal long ago to someday take reigns of Corp and settle down once dad retires if he can sow wild oats until then fucking everything that moves. Time’s up! Must propose! Publicity stunt for Mardi Gras - will bake engagement ring into cupcakes, makes sure his choice of wife will get that one, but mixup! Some girl in D12 gets it by mistake! Can’t admit his error! Katniss feels miracle, $ woes over! [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 26: the night before the Quarter Quell, in the sleepless dark, Katniss and Peeta allow themselves to indulge in the bittersweet dream of a future they’ll never have together (“if it wasn’t us, what would you do?” “I’d want to marry you” “tell me”) [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]
Prompt 27: Pick a “what if” - what if Katniss was at Peeta’s bedside when he woke after losing his leg? - what if Katniss hadn’t been locked inside her room after wandering at night when she decides to seek out Peeta? - what if Haymitch hadn’t left the train when it stopped and upset Peeta with his comment? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 28: The truth finally comes out years later: Lily broke off the engagement only after the baker had knocked up her best friend, and for the baby’s sake she had left to run a free clinic in the seam where she does find true love. Her family invites her back to the apothecary now that they know and they forgive her for marrying a mine worker now that he’s deceased anyway. How does young Katniss adjust to life in town; Peeta, Delly, Madge as neighbors; not needing to go over the fence but wanting to? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 29: Post-MJ, Growing Together. Peeta is finally showing his affection and love for Katniss as they heal and reconnect. Katniss, being Katniss, seems to act like she doesn't appreciate this, and is less than enthused. Peeta, taking this like an adult, stops showing her with the affection and tries to show her his love in other ways. Katniss, however, does not appreciate him stopping those things and set out to try and get him to continue it again because she misses it. [submitted by @albinokittens300]
Prompt 30: When Prim needs a bone marrow reconstitution that can only be accomplished via genetic matched umbilical stem cell transplantation, Mrs E confesses that the baker is Prim’s father. Prim’s best chance of survival depends on Katniss having a Mellark’s child for the donor cells. How does she get one of the Mellarks to agree? And what are negotiations like regarding conception and what to do with the baby once it’s born? What if it’s more than one baby because of the medication Katniss is given? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 31: “We never see you two so much as kiss in public but last night we all heard you have sex.” Who says it (Johanna, Haymitch, Finnick or ?) and under what circumstances (vacation rental, baby monitor mishap or ?) is up to you. From BBA [submitted by Buttercupbadass]
Prompt 32: Pre-books fic about a young Peeta crushing on Katniss. His friends tease him about his crush constantly, and it irritates him because everyone seems to know except Katniss herself. But he just rolls his eyes good-naturedly whenever his friends say something about it. [submitted by @madetofly]
Prompt 33: Roommates+Friends-with-Benefits: It’s finally March and Katniss is hankering for a Shamrock Shake because “Damned it, Peeta! I can taste the mint!” So he drives her to every McDonald's in a 40 mile radius without luck. She cries, surprising both of them ‘cause she never cries… Peeta takes matters into his hands, buys ingredients for a homemade 🍀 shake plus a pregnancy test just in case. You decide what’s the result and what Everlark does with the knowledge/scare. Extra points for humor. [submitted by @alliswell21]
Prompt 34: Peeta Mellark is the owner of a popular bakery chain and has no time for romance. Katniss Everdeen is struggling, about to be evicted, in deep debt and desperate, she jokingly tells her friend Madge over a cheese bun, she needs a Sugar Daddy to put her trough college and Peeta happens to overhear it. She’s a regular at his main shop, and is cute if a few years his junior. He offers her a deal she can’t refuse. Age gap. Extra cookies for accidental toastbaby and falling in love. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 35: No reaping AU. At 19, Katniss considers marrying Gale for practical reasons; the fact she just heard the baker’s son toasted and was assigned a house at the edge of town has nothing to do with it... maybe. What happens next? (was Peeta really married or was it his brother? Does she marry Gale? Does Everlark ever talk? Will Peeta cheat if he’s actually married? Can Katniss admit she loves the Boy with the Bread? Is this forbidden love?) is up to you. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 36: Frustrated and stressed out Single dad!Peeta needs a fuck desperately. His best friend, Katniss, unwittingly offers to help him out. Things get murky with repressed feelings, but one thing’s certain, Peeta can’t keep his hands to himself anymore and Katniss is all too willing to oblige at the drop of a hat, regardless of place, time and her own emotions, as long as he keeps whispering all his sexy, filthy thoughts into her ear. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 37: Not-Reaped, In-Panem AU where Peeta and Katniss have begun quietly seeing one another. It is very early on and they are really only just getting a bearing on how deep their feelings are when one day Katniss sees Peeta beat by his mother and no amount of will power will stop her from going and confronting the witch. She goes in there on a war path but stops when she sees just how hurt Peeta is this time, with open gash on his leg from when he had fallen to the ground... [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 38: Everlark inspired by Netflix's Spinning Out (But honestly I believe it was the other way around!) [submitted by @justhereforthefanfiction]
Prompt 39: Taylor Swift - Mary’s Song (aka childhood best friends to lovers to husband and wife) [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 40: No choice - friends Katniss and Gale must wed to become legal guardians of siblings. Still not enough to avoid financial ruin. Convinced only way to get desperately needed fast cash is for Katniss to first offer virginity to highest bidder. But how to find him or her, how to negotiate terms, does she confide in anyone, how should she prepare, will it all be quick and forgotten as she hopes, what could go wrong, can she keep this secret, can she use a fake name, can she hire a service? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 41: Inspired by the dancing kid meme. A video clip of either Katniss/Peeta as a child becomes a huge meme. How do they handle it? Maybe it gets them together? Maybe it’s creation tears them apart? [submitted by Buttercupbadass]
Prompt 42: Every time there’s a really bad storm, a bolt of lightning precedes Katniss getting transported to another life. She’s always Katniss with all her memories, but everything around her is different. Peeta is always there, she just needs to figure out if he’s friend, foe, stranger. And, damn it, the storms this spring with global warming sometimes has her in and out of situations before she can figure anything out. Gale complicate things further. It’s enough to drive her crazy... [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 43: Katniss post-war becomes crazy cat lady, dedicates herself to caring for every stray, calls them all Buttercup, don’t get along with Haymitch’s geese. Now does Dr Aurelius make a house call? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 44: Believing that taking a new young bride every 5 years will keep him youthful, Snow arranges to marry wife #12 from D12. In the hours between the ceremony and the wedding night, he drops dead. 16-yr-old Katniss returns to 12 but now she’s “Widow Snow.” Can she ever be Katniss, district huntress again? With all that $, wedding gifts, etc that were sent on the train with her? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 45: Prompt has been removed.
Prompt 46: Pacific Rim inspired AU with drift compatible Everlark (or not if you’re inspired by angst). I really just want to see more of that aspect of Pacific Rim explored than what they did in the movie and what better way to do it than with Everlark! [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 47: katniss and peeta have a one night stand after meeting at a bar. when katniss visits her gyno turns out peeta is her new doctor. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 48: best friends!everlark who take each other's virginity. [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]
Prompt 49: "I'm your boss, give me your pants. Now." [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 50: everlark discovering on their date that they've missed each other their whole lives (living in the same city, went to the same high school, going to the same halloween and nye parties, were set up before by different friends but stood each other up, shopping at the same store, etc.) [submitted by @sunflowerslyf]
Prompt 51: Katniss E, the Valedictorian of Panem High school, is perfect in all fields of life. And that is the crush of awkward, average in studies, not so popular, never had a girlfriend, often bullied Peeta M. Not only does she have a very popular friend circle but also a handsome, popular boyfriend Gale H. Will she even want to be his friend? Is his crush doomed to fail? Eventual Everlark. [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds]
Prompt 52: “The Tao of Peeta” - maybe setting is as (small, remote, surrounded by wild creatures) D12 is being used as a penal colony for dangerous (political?) prisoners? Bring in other victors? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 53: Katniss’s parents finally convinces her to attend the military ball because they are honoring her dad after some time of trying to distance herself from the military world. At the ball, she meets a handsome, charming man that might bring her back into the world she was trying to leave. [submitted by @animekpopxx]
Prompt 54: Heart wrenching angst Everlark based on the song “Me Dedique A Perderte” by Alejandro Fernandez. [submitted by @animekpopxx​]
Prompt 55: The Prophecy states: “A powerful witch that’s born from the two worlds,will reunite them and will bring peace. “ Everyone thought that the prophecy was talking about her. And she did bring change and hope to everyone but who ultimately brought the peace was her unborn child. [submitted by @animekpopxx​]
Prompt 56: Who dun it? Shortly after Katniss goes to one of those paint and kiln your own porcelain places, (owner artist Peeta), people start disappearing. The only connection seems to be that they were people she bitched about while sipping too much wine and painting her piece. She becomes prime suspect. No bodies can be found, how are they vanishing? Can she offer an alibi for each disappearance? That guy Peeta keeps popping up, is he following her? She’s sure she caught him looking at her... [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 57: In a place where the world prospers with a female dominated world, Coriolanus Snow successfully does a coup over the reigning Everdeen family with ruthless bunches of man to create a world where men dominate.But the people’s hope is in the form of a Katniss Everdeen and Snow did not know that she was right under his nose the whole time before it was too late. [submitted by @animekpopxx]
Prompt 58: Historical au where princess katniss and duke peeta are secretly sleeping together, are caught, and now have to marry each other. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 59: Growing up Peeta started loving her. It was a gradual thing that happened throughout his childhood and into his teens. But something changes when he hits puberty. Her scent has heightened, he can spot her from miles away. He gets a bit possessive. But the biggest thing is when his body starts to heat up and even just the thought of you gets him hard for days. He finds out the family secret of his werewolf genes, something his parents thought passed him. How can he go by with his day and be with her without scaring her away by humping her because of his heat. [submitted by @animekpopxx]
Prompt 60: After severe flooding(?) community urged to open homes to disaster victims. Mrs. E offers to take in children only. Peeta and bro assigned there temporarily. Peeta quiet, polite? Bro constant source of embarrassment? Prim doesn’t want them to ever leave? Does Gale have anything to say about this? How does Katniss deal with it? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 61: Peeta knew better, but he did stupid things when he got drunk. Now he’s caged at the animal shelter in his wolf form. And, omg, Katniss Everdeen let her little sister drag her in to see the dogs?! He knows he shouldn’t, but teen hormones. He just wants to lick her hand. Get a tummy rub. Hump her leg. Sleep on her bed. Omg, they take him home!!!! He needs to let his dad know where he is. Omg. He needs to figure out his bakery shift. “God, don’t let Katniss catch me licking my balls.” [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 62: one night stand!everlark sleeping together the same night a terrible snowstorm hits the city and everything gets shut down with no way to get home. perhaps a two night stand? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 63: katniss and peeta who are exes wake up together naked, hungover, and married. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 64: She’s a good girl, goes to confession weekly. He’s a bad boy, on the run, slips into the confessional booth just in time. Now he’s stuck hiding in here for a bit hearing the some dull some crazy confessions of the elderly - and of one young girl with the sexiest voice. May go to hell for this, but he’s a guy and can’t help himself with what he says/does next. One of them ends up saying, “Oh, God! Yes!” [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 65: Everlark fluff based on the song Sugar by Maren Morris. [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone]
Prompt 66: Everlark post apocalypse, katniss and peeta are neighbors and the only two that make it to katniss's father's bunker in time. Over the course of several years the two have grown quite close having no one else, but now provisions are running low. Do they face the unknown outside or stay put, knowing they only have food to last another week? [sent by anonymous]
Prompt 67: Her parents said that it was just a childhood crush and that she will outgrow it. But why does her heart flutters. When she’s finally old enough to get a job, she immediately gets a part time job to be close to him. Will is pursue her love against people’s negative views because he’s so much older than her. Or go for it and make him fall in love with her. Age Gap Older!Peeta. [submitted by @animekpopxx]
Prompt 68: Dark Coffee Shop AU - Capitol Peeta runs a Coffee/Pastry shop in the poshest part of the Capitol. Near by President Snow’s Mansion. Capitol!Katniss is a frequent customer. Things in the Capitol begin to deteriorate as the rebellion drags on. Are they sympathetic to the rebel cause? [submitted by @oakfarmer12]
Prompt 69: College boy Peeta helps incoming students move into the dorms. Katniss is his next assignment. Age Gap? Maybe Katniss is an older student going to college later? Grad student? Maybe Peeta is a senior, Katniss a Freshman? The possibilities are endless! [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 70: Peeta picks up a hitchhiker in the mountains one night, only to find it's his childhood best friend and now escaped convict Katniss Everdeen. In a panic he calls police but after hearing her side of the story comes to believe she didn't actually murder anyone. Everlark on the run. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 71: King Snow forces the daughter of dead rebel leader Katniss to marry is adpoted son Peeta M and kills her father. P coming to know the truth on their wedding night vows to avenge Mr E's death. K hates him and carries on her own rebellion supplying her next clan leader Gale information from the Castle. When Snow is killed and rebels overtake Capitol chaos ensures. Ally of rebel, a neighbouring kingdom's queen Coin tries to use the situation in her favour. Whose side will K take? Eventual Everlark. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 72: Peeta is off a very abusive, poor home. His school friend Katniss has the exact opposite home: well loved and well off family. What happens when opposite worlds clash? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 73: I am a simple woman: I just want Katniss Everdeen content and loved and washed in moonlight I don’t care how you do it. [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]
Prompt 74: Katniss Everdeen is horny. It has been three months since she left asshole Gale to enjoy her life. She just needs a good fuck. She goes man-hunting to a local bar with Jo. The even ends up with her being naked on her bed, with the head of a very handsome blonde, stocky stranger between her thighs. But after her first orgasm of the night when he says: I’ve never done this before, will it be the last? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 75: An in-Panem arranged marriage a/u where Katniss is slightly older than Peeta. [submitted by @endlessnightlock]
Prompt 76: Modern a/u Katniss is getting over the loss of her sister (you decide how) when she meets Peeta. She’s closed off but he finds a way in. Maybe she works for him? Him for her? Maybe she cries herself to sleep on his bread scented shoulder? (Please yes I need that) [submitted by @endlessnightlock]
Prompt 77: Katniss Everdeen has a handsome neighbour. It dosen't help that she just came out of a shitty relationship with her ex Gale Hawthorne. Too bad he is a 19 years old virgin boy and she is a woman of the world at 31. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 78: Post MJ, the new government of Panem has finally decided to lift the exile to Twelve order off of Katniss. Where are Katniss and Peeta in their lives? What is the first thing they do? Do they just have a quiet celebration or do they go somewhere? [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 79: Peeta has been planning this marriage proposal for months. It goes horribly wrong. Tell me all about it and what happens next?[submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 80: Katniss helps undo the lies Peeta’s mother (and the Capitol) told him about himself (namely that awful “stupid creature” comment) and reminds him that he is worthy and precious to her and really, that’s all that matters [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]
Prompt 81: Katniss finds her soulmate at her bachelorette party (aka Peeta)(Happy ending please) [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 82: Post MJ, when Peeta touches Katniss’ neck wrong, she has a flashback of him almost strangling her and has to be heavily consoled. This leads to a conversation about his attacking her when he came back from the capitol. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 83: Katniss is whipped instead of Gale in Catching Fire, Peeta’s the one who’s there to take care of her after. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 84: [Historical AU: 1930s Hollywood] Silver screen star Peeta Mellark has captured millions of hearts, and housekeeper Katniss isn't immune. She's stunned when Peeta comes to court her eccentric heiress employer, Madge. Katniss' shock only grows when Peeta offers to pay for her help in winning him Madge's hand in marriage - and access to her fortune, with which he intends to fund his directorial debut. [submitted by @gamesmakers]
Prompt 85: During an episode of Peetas, he locks Katniss outside in the snow for an entire night. Haymitch is passed out drunk and doesn’t let her in, she can’t find anywhere else to go all night so she ends up catching a really bad cold. When Peeta comes to his senses he feels horrible and nurses her back to health. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 86: After MJ Peeta has a hijack relapse for a few minutes where he insults Katniss’ appearance and body (more extreme version of when he said she wasn’t very pretty in Mockingjay) which hits a nerve, especially since her body was damaged in the explosion that killed Prim. After he’s back to himself, he feels terrible, but Katniss brushes it off. It’s only when she refuses to have sex with him now that he realizes how insecure she might be. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 87: On the train a few days before the Quarter Quell, in another effort to break her before the second games, Snow orders Katniss to have sex with someone in the capitol who paid for her company. When she tries to refuse, Snow threatens her family. She agrees but partway through panics and tries to stop it, only to have the buyer turn on her and get physically violent. She comes to Peeta afterwards and he comforts her, holds her, takes care of her and promises he’ll never let someone hurt her again. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 88: Not reaped. Peeta and Katniss fake date. [submitted by @anxiouslyintroverted]
Prompt 89: Amish!world. Katniss and Peeta are courting each other and are just waiting for Katniss to be of age to get married cause Peeta’s 2 years older. But things gets tough when a Snow comes to their county and spots Katniss. He ask her father if she can be his wife. [submitted by @animekpopxx]
Prompt 90: anyone for an Everlark Alcott or Austen-esque period drama? because I sure am so just gonna speak that into existence. [submitted by @rosegardeninwinter]
Prompt 91: ​High school. Peeta is the perfect golden boy. Katniss is a rebellious, infamous girl who always skips class and who everyone fears. She is every boys wet dream and every girls nightmare. How will they both fall in love? [submitted by @mysteriouslycraftyreview]
Prompt 92: High school musical au: katniss and peeta as troy and Gabriella. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 93: Katniss is preparing for first Toastbaby and going through some hardcore nesting urges. Peeta, of course, thinks this is perfect and willing to help her anyway he can even if that means repainting the nursery for a third time. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 94: Toastbaby gets into a bit of a scrape, nothing too serious, and Everlark struggles with finding the balance between being there for toastbaby but not being too overly protective. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 95: Everlark meet cute, “Oh wait... you’re NOT my blind date?” We’re they set up with each other or with someone else? How do they figure out the mix up? What happens after? Disgustingly fluffy welcome. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 96: Everlark in the verge of breaking up. Why? Are they married or dating? Do they fix it or go their separate ways? [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 97: Katniss makes three game changing shots, one in each of the books. What if... she missed? Pick one for her to miss and how does it change the story? Cato’s hand in THG, the forcefield in CF, or Coin in MJ. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]
Prompt 98: I would love some good rated E Everlark smut. Post mockingjay, Everlark growing back together and when I say smut I don't mean porn. I mean they need each other. Can't live without each other. Pour their hearts out and heal each other with their love from all the trauma they went through and make up time that they wasted holding their feelings back and pining after each other. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 99: Peeta has been spending too much time around his brothers (lol), Katniss makes a remark about wanting a snack, he replys “I have something you can snack on” Peeta is instantly mortified by his stupid comment because he is a gentleman. What happens next? It’s up to you. Could be sexy, could be a different kind of tongue lashing? [submitted by @endlessnightlock]
Prompt 100: Peeta's thoughts/what really happened to him at the end of the war and his thoughts regarding Prim's death. [submitted by @acpoe82]
Prompt 101: The night of the interviews in Catching Fire, Snow delays the games by a few days after Peetas announcement that Katniss is pregnant and demands Katniss gets a forced abortion in the capitol. Peeta and Katniss try to tell the truth, that she’s not pregnant but Snow isn’t listening and she’s forced into the procedure. Peeta is allowed to stay with her during and after, lots of hurt/comfort, etc. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 102: Katniss is uncomfortable with relying on Peeta even post MJ(pre epilogue). She only accepts his affection after nightmares, she doesn’t think she deserves it otherwise. She feels like he’s still too good for her & that she’ll never deserve him, on top of how she lacks trust in anyone bc of her childhood & having to be strong for Prim and her mom. One night after a severely bad nightmare she blacks out and come to, to Peeta bathing her in the tub, being gentle & loving & affectionate & soothing. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 103: best friends!everlark where katniss sets peeta up on a date with her friend, when peeta and date hit it off she realizes that she's actually in love with him but does nothing about it, few years later, peeta and girl are engaged and after a night of drinking, peeta and katniss accidentally hook up. how they get together is up to you (hea pls) [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 104: Katniss is captured instead of Peeta but instead of being injected with tracker jacker serum she’s beaten, starved, lashed and throttled. When her spirit is weak enough the capitol returns her to D13 where Peeta (and Haymitch/Effie) help her recover. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 105: what if one of them was a librarian and the other a (struggling? or drawing away patrons and stealing employees) bookstore owner (maybe who was more interested in things other than books) - Enemies to lovers? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 106: Everlark based on the movie Groundhog Day, where one (or both?) relive the same day over and over until they get it right. [submitted by @xerxia31]
Prompt 107: Katniss gets jealous of Peeta paying attention to other girls during their “growing back together” period. Super jealous. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 108: A story based on the lyrics to Lady Antebellum's "Need You Now" [submitted by @xerxia31]
Prompt 109: Dialogue prompt: "I deserve better than this!" [submitted by @xerxia31]
Prompt 110: AU. Everlark live across from each other in fancy New York (or the like) penthouses. With all those large windows, they see each other daily and know the other's routine and all he/she does, but they've never met. A chance meeting occurs. What will happen? The circumstances of their living arrangements/any backstory and what happens between them is up to you. [submitted by @acpoe82]
Prompt 111: Hand Porn - looking, breathlessly touching, reading the story told by the calluses, the scars, the strength, while admiring all they’ve done, appreciating all they do, anticipating everything they will do for love - sensitive, expressive, powerful, creative, protective, sensuous hand porn. [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 112: 40-year-old virgin Peeta. Based as loosely as you want on the movie. Everlark, of course. [submitted by @acpoe82]
Prompt 113: Katniss saw Peeta naked in the arena after he got hurt but he hadn’t seen her. During CF while Peeta is training Katniss and Haymitch hard, Katniss falls out of exhaustion and being overworked and hurts her back slightly. Feeling guilty, Peeta gives strips her naked, gives her a bath and rubs healing lotions from her mom all over her. How does he react to the first time seeing her naked?[submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 114: Katniss trips and falls in the quarter quell and breaks her ankle, resulting in Peeta carrying her everywhere. She doesn’t like looking weak in front of the other victors but since she doesn’t plan on living through the games this time it’s good to be taken care of one last time. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 115: During the victory tour, for whatever reason, author can decide, Peeta has to help Katniss undress at the end of the day, only to discover/for her to remember too late, that she didn’t put any underwear on underneath her clothes. His shock/her humiliation ensues. (But he tries to make her feel better ofc) [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 116: Peeta braids Katniss’ hair to soothe her. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 117: AU where Peeta wasn’t hijacked when he returned from the capitol, just shaken up, during Star Squad, Katniss has a bad flashback and Gale witnesses Peeta be the only person who could comfort her. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 118: the nutcracker au! katniss as clara and peeta as the nutcracker. and if there could be a scene with snow, that would be really nice! [submitted by @omercilessmoon]
Prompt 119: “If you were taken by the capitol and hijacked, and then tried to kill Peeta, is this how he would be treating you” a fic where it’s Katniss the capitol hijacked and the second part of mockingjay from their reunion on is reversed. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 120: “I know that everyone on the planet is born with heterochromia, but I’m blind, so literally anyone could lie to me and say that they’re my soulmate. Why should I believe you?” Blind!peeta soulmate AU. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 121: Peeta has returned to D13 along with Katniss. But she is being forced to be the Mockingjay and portray a new angle, that Gale is her actual lover, Peeta was being forced on her by Capitol and Snow. How does Katniss manage the peer pressure? [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds]
Prompt 122: The soldiers bring back to district 13 Peeta but he is not hijacked. He has been beaten badly, starved and sexually abused. All this led him to become an emotional avox. Will Katniss be able to help him recover from the trauma? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 123: Katniss never volunteers instead she is picked. While peeta volunteers for his brother(what’s wrong with his brother is up to you) and promises him that he will try to win. Peeta turns into the mockingjay ( or whatever variation he will have). [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 124: In MJ I noticed Peeta became more of himself when Katniss was affectionate to him and it helped him fight the venom. So my prompt is when Peeta comes back from being hijacked Katniss realizes this sooner and it starts off slow at first but then they get to the point of having sex and it pretty much heals him completely. HEA for Everlark please. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 125: EFE Prompt: Everlark + Faith. Be it in people, spiritual, or otherwise. Explore the loss of it, regaining of it, or finding it for the first time. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 126: Anything AU based on the song “Talk” by Hozier. Simple enough I think. [submitted by @theliferuiner]
Prompt 127: The earth is in perilous danger from a great evil and only Katniss can stop it. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 128: Peeta saves Katniss from being raped by someone in the capitol. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 129: Katniss & Peeta had a baby. But then miscommunication caused them to split. Peeta is still heavily involved in his baby's life. Katniss is seeing someone else & quickly rising in socioeconomic status with her talent as singer. Peeta on the other hand is facing more & more troubles with his family life. He isn’t being able to spare time their child. Its also becoming difficult for him to keep up with Katniss. Will their rift grow? Or will Katniss finally acknowledge her true feelings for him? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 130: What if Haymitch hadn’t said thise words to Katniss when Peeta joined Star-squad in Mockingjay? Would Katniss have come to her senses or would she be still angry at Peeta. A Mockingjay AU. [submitted by @white-dandelion-seeds]
Prompt 131: “Do you love me? Do you really? Because I go through every day of my life, thinking that nobody loves me.” [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 132: Both Mellark brothers, eldest and youngest love Katniss Everdeen. She is engaged to the eldest but her heart belongs to the youngest. Jealous!Peeta. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 133: Birth of their first child. Peeta helping and supporting Katniss. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 134: Visual Prompt. To see it go HERE [submitted by @javistg]
Prompt 135: Non specific prompt. Peeta called Katniss baby as a pet name. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 136: Katniss gets stung pretty bad by tracker jackers post mockingjay. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 137: Friends to lovers road trip au! Katniss wants to take a summer off to explore the country, Peeta volunteers to go with her. Bonus points if one of them is an absolutely oblivious idiot. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 138: Everlark loosely based off 90 day fiance. Could be AgeGap, one could have ulterior motives(until they end up catching real feelings), or it's a genuine connection. Author decides. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 139: There are fics where Peeta's mom tries to set him up with town girls. What if Peeta's mom tries to set him up with Katniss for once. Maybe both moms team up together? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 140: In Panem AU where Peeta is a Mail Order Husband. As the youngest son of a merchant class Capitol family, he has accepted he will never inherit the family bakery. But when his family contract him to an arranged marriage to further the business he will never own, he escapes by signing up to a programme to relocate and marry a district woman. Why Katniss needs a husband, is up to the author. Everlark endgame :) [submitted by @louezem]
Prompt 141: Katniss is the lone victor of 74th Annual Hunger Games. Peeta is a Capitaloit. Snow forces Katniss to be like other victor. How will they meet? How will they fall in love? What will happen when the revolution starts? [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 142: Gale comes to district 12 again years after mockingjay and runs into a little girl shooting an arrow, only to find out it’s Katniss and Peetas daughter. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 143: The girl of my dreams asked me if I needed a ride home from campus so I obviously let her drive me home then walked back to campus a couple of hours later to get my car. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 144: Peeta's perspective. A more in-depth look at how he joined and tricked the Careers and led them away from Katniss in the Hunger Games. [submitted by @acpoe82]
Prompt 145: Not reaped; Snow overthrown; D12 unscathed; miners unionize; postwar prosperity; Seam transformation; Hob center of commerce. Teens Katniss and Peeta have new options and new pressures. How do they navigate this new reality? How do they handle graduating? How do they find their way to each other without reaping and with seam now middle class and restrictions lifted? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 146: Powerful Matchmaker arranges marriage between Everdeen girl (to whom she owes a big favor) and the young cinnamon scented baker boy the girl has loved ever since he first slipped her a sugar cookie with her namesake flower beautifully decorated in frosting, the yellow primrose. What will Katniss do when she only learns of it in church as the first of the 3 Sunday banns are read? Has she ever spoken to Peeta? Will she search her feelings for him? Will he object to the match? Does he have any say? [submitted by @567inpanem]
Prompt 147: The movie "Me Before You" Everlark style. [submitted by @acpoe82]
Prompt 148: Gale dosen't design the bomb but someone else does. Prim lives, but Katniss still kills snow. Gale cones back to district 12 along with Katniss. But problems arise when Peeta cones back too. Eventual Everlark. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 149: Peeta is whipped in catching fire instead of gale. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 150: Everlark based on the movie Blast from the Past starring Brendan Frasier and Alicia Silverstone. Peeta’s family lives in a bomb shelter for an extended period of time and he has to leave and venture out by himself with no knowledge of the current world. He hires Katniss to help him out and they fall in love. (Rough summary!) Rated M/E would be spectacular! [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 151: Everlark based on the song ocean avenue. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 152: King Peeta Mellark of Panem is looking for a wife, and he isn't getting any younger. None of the potential suitors does it for him - until he runs across local dragon slayer Katniss Everdeen after his kingdom comes under attack. She's exactly what he wants. The only problem? She absolutely hates him and it's up to him to convince her to marry him. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 153: Katniss opens up to Peeta about her insecurities about herself and about how he’s too good for her. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 154: One where Katniss is humiliated and Peeta makes her feel better. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 155: Post Mockingjay but before epilogue, Katniss has a good dream about her dad still being alive and how much he’d like Peeta and how wonderful everything would be. When she wakes up at first she doesn’t realize it was a dream, but when she does she’s absolutely inconsolable. Peeta comforts her the best he can. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 156: Just any or maybe multiple times Katniss got her period around Peeta. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 157: Unfocused while hunting from a nightmare the night before an animal sneaks up on Katniss and injured her, not deathly but enough that she can’t make it home on her own. Peeta gets worried when she’s not back after dark and goes after to find her freezing cold and bleeding and shivering. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 158: Toastbabies make breakfast in bed for their parents anniversary, only to walk in on them doing the do. [submitted by anonymous]
Prompt 159: Katniss tries to make herself up to look pretty for Peeta but doesn’t know how to do it well and it’s a disaster but he thought she was beautiful just as she was. [submitted by anonymous]
169 notes · View notes
wordsablaze · 4 years
Text
4~ i’ll stand there so brave
tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…
A/N: so this took me a while to update but you can blame the sun for being too warm for me to function... yay summer (!)
@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @cloudspeck @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @booboomuffin
previous chapter
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They reach the next town a few hours before nightfall.
Jaskier perks up as soon as they see an inn, all but jumping to the ground and almost toppling over entirely in his haste. He manages to carefully take down his lute before Eskel has even brought Scorpion to a stop.
“I’ll get us a room!” he declares before promptly freezing on the spot, looking up at Eskel as if waiting for permission.
Eskel sighs inwardly but smiles as softly as he can make himself. “Sounds good.”
It’s obvious Jaskier was wondering if Eskel would even want to share a room with him and somehow, that thought stings more than most injuries he’s faced on the path. Because of course he does, there’s no reason for him not to.
He’s glad it’s almost dark because it means the stableboy doesn’t have a chance to be scared off by his scars, simply promising to ensure Scorpion is taken care of properly.
“Go find a corner, darling,” Jaskier whispers to him as soon as he enters the inn, gently pushing him towards one of the walls.
Before he can even think to ask if there’s a room available, Jaskier has started performing, his voice carrying perfectly across the rather large room and causing most people to at least turn to look at him, if not start smiling or singing along.
Eskel doesn’t recognise the song but it seems plenty of people do because there are soon enough drinks going round for one of the barmaids to place on in front of him with a smile. “Free of charge, as promised.”
“Promised?” Eskel echoes, frowning.
She frowns back for a split second before nodding her head at Jaskier, who’s currently moving around the room to take requests. “You’re with him, right?”
Eskel nods.
“Well then, as we promised him: food and drink with no charge if he can liven the place up.”
She disappears to serve someone else before Eskel can thank her so he just accepts the ale and sits back, tracking Jaskier as he switches songs after stopping by two young women who look like they’re on the verge of tears.
They’re laughing by the time the song - something about a princess slaying the beast instead of being rescued from it - has finished, as much to Jaskier’s credit as it is to Eskel’s amazement.
“Play the one about coins!” someone shouts.
“Yeah, let’s hear about the devil!”
“Go on, bard!”
Eskel bristles as Jaskier pauses, biting his lip hard enough to break the skin that had barely healed from before; apparently, it’s some kind of nervous habit of his.
For a moment, Eskel thinks Jaskier will refuse. But then Jaskier exhales slowly and grins. “Why, of course! A great choice to end the evening!”
His ale - both the first and second mugs - long since finished, Eskel focuses entirely on Jaskier.
“When a humble bard…”
Focuses on the way he’s the perfect picture of professional.
Focuses on how his fingers play the right tune but his heart so clearly isn’t in it, not that anyone seems to pick up on that as they laugh or sing along, a few of them even tossing coins Jaskier’s way as he passes them.
Focuses on how there's something so brave in Jaskier singing about someone who'd hurt him so deeply. And not only that, but he's doing it to support witchers despite everything - it seems only logical to be impressed.
“A friend of humanity… ” Jaskier finishes, bowing ceremoniously as he grabs his lute case from he’d propped it up to keep it safe.
Moments later, he rather unceremoniously collapses into the seat opposite Eskel.
“You okay there, bardling?” Eskel asks softly, once he’s sure there are no prying eyes left.
Jaskier nods, but the way he lets his head fall onto the table between them says otherwise.
He stays in that position until two plates of food are placed on their table, at which point he sits up straight and positively beams at the woman who’d brought them. “Our most sincere gratitude for keeping your promise.”
She laughs, glancing between the two of them. “The gratitude is mutual.”
Eskel smiles at her. “Thank you.”
“Is that basil?” Jaskier asks incredulously, surprising both Eskel and the woman, who nods slowly, as if expecting a complaint.
But Jaskier only grins cheekily. “I shall have to write a ballad in my gratitude to your hospitality and whoever is in charge of your skilled kitchens.”
The woman blushes before grabbing Eskel’s empty mug, muttering something about it being their pleasure before leaving them to their food. And as soon as she’s gone, Jaskier lets his head fall back onto the table.
“Jaskier?” Eskel asks, briefly worrying if there’s a hidden injury he should know about.
Jaskier groans softly but sits back up again with a small and oddly insincere smirk. “I believe that’s what most people call me, yes.”
This time, Eskel can tell exactly how much Jaskier is affected by having to relive Posada, even if he doesn’t always show it. But he doesn’t want to address it, knowing that it might mean Jaskier shuts himself off again. Or worse, decides not to travel with him after all.
Instead, he gestures to their plates. “Aren’t you going to try the basil?”
Jaskier blinks slowly before laughing, the shadows in his expression halfway replaced with amusement. “Only if we both do, darling,” he agrees.
And so they do.
It seems neither of them are used to taking their time, though, because the inn is still relatively buzzing by the time they’ve both finished their very satisfying meals.
“There’s someone with a siren problem that wants to meet you tomorrow,” Jaskier tells him as they make their way upstairs.
“What?” Eskel tilts his head to the right, confused.
Jaskier is immediately surrounded by waves of panic. “Oh, gods, I didn’t mean to assume you’d want to take the contract or anything. I was just- I mean, she’s the one that came to me and I thought you- But we can just, uh, decline if you already had plans or-”
“It’s okay, Jaskier, I’m not mad,” Eskel interrupts, placing a hand on Jaskier’s arm.
He doesn’t know what he’d expected but he hadn’t predicted that Jaskier would melt the same way his panic does, letting out a soft sigh as he leans into the touch.
“Which room is ours?” Eskel asks, not really wanting to continue this conversation, or any other one for that matter, where they could be overhead.
Jaskier instantly snaps out of his guilty daze and leads them to the room he’d gotten them, a smaller one with only a bed and a window. But it’s still better than nothing at such late notice and Eskel is grateful for it.
“Did she tell you it was a siren?” Eskel asks eventually, not liking the uneasy silence between them.
Jaskier looks almost startled to be addressed but then shakes his head. “Not exactly, but there aren’t exactly a lot of creatures that specialise in luring handsome men away with songs in the middle of the night, are there?”
Taking a risk, Eskel smirks. “You would know better than I, bardling.”
“What? I wouldn’t know more than you witchers even if- hey!” Jaskier’s confusion transforms into an affronted pout as he folds his arms. “I do not lure anyone anywhere. It’s hardly my fault if they offer me their company, is it?”
Eskel is just glad Jaskier hadn’t taken offence. He’s also pretty surprised that his idea of a joke had matched someone else’s idea of a joke but he’s aware it might just be Jaskier and his rather unique personality.
“If you say so,” Eskel settles for.
Jaskier grumbles and throws his doublet at Eskel, who barely manages to catch it despite his enhanced reflexes.
But as soon as he does, Jaskier’s eyes widen and he steps closer to Eskel. “Wait no, don’t crumple it!”
“You’re the one who threw it,” Eskel points out, bemused.
Jaskier pouts again, and Eskel swears that no other man would be capable of looking so childish in such a surprisingly dignified way.
But he throws it back anyway. Or rather, hands it back, since Jaskier is close enough to do so. He’s also close enough for Eskel to feel the surprised relief that radiates from him as he carefully folds the doublet and places it atop his lute case.
It hadn’t struck Eskel until now that Jaskier doesn’t have any other belongings with him. But now he feels self-conscious at having two bags worth of possessions where Jaskier only has a lute, even though he knows that he needs the potions and the spare clothes and the extra room for rations.
And Jaskier must have pulled the shirt he’d given to Eskel from somewhere , right? Eskel figures he’d stashed his belongings somewhere before they’d set off and resolves to ask him about them later.
“Are you going to keep your armour on all night?” Jaskier asks after a minute or so of Eskel being rooted in the same spot.
Truth be told, he was just wondering whether they’d share the bed again.
“You know, I’ve heard that sleeping is far more comfortable when you’re not covered in spikes,” Jaskier continues, smirking again.
Eskel makes a face at that but Jaskier only takes it as an invitation, helping him out of his armour before pulling him to the bed and flopping down onto it, raising an eyebrow up at him. “Care to join me?”
“No,” Eskel replies just for the sake of it, “move over.”
Jaskier laughs before doing exactly that, folding his arms under his head as he shifts his gaze to the ceiling and Eskel settles besides him.
“You don’t mind, do you? That I arranged a potential contract on your behalf?” Jaskier asks softly, still staring at the ceiling.
Eskel shakes his head, wondering how Jaskier doesn’t know that it makes life so much easier to have a middle man in the equation. But then he remembers that Geralt is probably responsible for Jaskier not knowing how valuable his social skills are.
Honestly, he’s never wanted to hit someone so badly.
“Of course not,” Eskel replies, wishing he could explain better but still not quite used to the whole talking-for-so-long thing.
Jaskier smiles regardless and turns so he’s facing Eskel, already curling closer to him. “And you won’t leave before I wake up?”
Eskel suspects Jaskier is either a little more tired or a little more drunk than he’d intended to be so he just humours him and shakes his head. “No, I won’t. I’ll be here,” he promises.
Almost like a child, Jaskier nods, shuffling even closer. “Thank you, Eskel.”
The warmth that spreads through Eskel is most likely due to Jaskier’s presence rather than his words because why would someone using his name be powerful enough to change his body temperature?
Jaskier is filled with so much trust, Eskel notes, that he falls asleep within a few minutes. And it amazes him as much as it saddens him for he can’t imagine why Geralt would give up someone so awfully kind at heart.
But he doesn’t want to think of his brother’s idiocy unless he absolutely has to, which he currently doesn’t, so he just wraps an arm around Jaskier and closes his eyes.
It’s definitely strange to have someone choose to be as close to him as possible, especially when they’re both at their most vulnerable, but he can’t deny the smile on his face that only the darkness will ever see.
He also can’t deny one of the best nights of sleep he’s ever had.
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i lowkey feel they get more ooc every time i write them, oops. sorry about that...
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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter
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vera-simik · 4 years
Text
Wanted: The Witcher. Status: Urgent
Ok. I did it. I finally translated it all. So there it is - my super weird multi-crossover crack-fic, because honestly? Almost everything I ever wrote is more or less crack-fic 😅
Proceed on your own risk  😅
(early morning)
(OK, fine, let’s be honest – NOT so early)
(Vědmi and Erik are sitting in the kitchen, both have a mug of a hot beverage in front of them; Vědmi is also messing around with a small pile of papers)
(Andy comes in)
Andy: “I bid you good morning.”
Erik: (waves sort of disinterestedly) “Mornin’.”
Vědmi: (mumbles something, doesn’t glance up from her work)
Andy: “Judging by her expression, Geralt hasn’t shown up yet.”
Erik: “What a pity you didn’t place a bet. You’d win.”
Andy: “Ah… So, she’s creating WHAT exactly?”
Erik: “Do you remember when she said that if the witcher wouldn’t show up in two days, she’d have to act?”
Andy: “… yes?”
Erik: “She started to create wanted posters.”
Vědmi: “Alright, you two. (puts papers aside) You can stop talking about me as if I weren’t here, and tell me instead – how does this sound? (clears her throat) Have you seen this witcher? Responds to the name Geralt of Rivia. If you find him, be so kind and punch him in the face. (looks at her companions) So? What do you think?”
(both men remain silent)
Erik: “Well…”
Andy: “Perhaps I would word it in less emotive w-“
(suddenly, a portal opens in the kitchen, and Geralt stumbles out of it, slightly green in the face)
Vědmi: (with a mischievous grin on her face) “Aaa, look who FINALLY decided to join us! And as I see, unspeakably wasted!”
Geralt: (mutters) “Be so kind and stop screeching. You’re worse than an echidna, and I, moreover, have a feeling like I could even hear the colours.”
Vědmi: “And why are you acting so surprised, with such a hangover? Shame on you! What am I supposed to tell your wife when she comes here and sees you like this?”
Geralt: (takes a seat at the table) (in puzzlement) “Why would Yen come here? Are you two planning on doing something here or what?”
Vědmi: (facepalm) “And he’s asking! You said yourself that your anniversary is approaching, and then you asked me if I could do you a favor and write it down to the calendar in case you’d forget! You wanted to take her out tonight, and you were pretty damn secretive about it. That’s why we wanted to launch a hunt for you! (points at the pile of wanted posters)”
Geralt: (looks a bit uncertain) “Tonight? Are you sure? How long was I gone?”
Erik: “Longer than you think, mon ami. Did Regis make a new brew of his mandrake moonshine again?”
Andy: „Whatever it was, I suppose it was quite impressive. A witcher with a mild alcohol poisoning… I don’t think it’s something you can see every day.“
Geralt: (waves hand in a dismissive manner) „Eh… it’s not… I don’t wanna talk about it, it’s not very int-“
Vědmi: „Oh no, no, no, keep talking, we’re all ears.“
Geralt: „Ugh, as you wish. Dandelion had the – you know – bachelor party, and – I admit – maybe, just MAYBE it took a bit longer than we planned, and…“
(everyone’s silent for a moment)
Erik: „P-perhaps I did not understand correctly? WHAT happened to Dandelion?“
Vědmi: (shrieks out) „The oaf’s gonna get married?!“
Geralt: (slightly tormented expression) „I begged you to stop screeching…“
Vědmi: (ignoring witcher’s headache) „So he really wants to get hitched… That’s impossible…“
Andy: „And who’s the poor unfortunate soul he talked into it?“
Vědmi: „Crystal clear it’s Priscilla. Am I right? (pokes Geralt) Don’t sleep, and tell him I’m right!“
Geralt: „Does it look to you like anyone could fall asleep here when SOMEONE’s still shouting? (to Andy) And of course, it’s Priscilla. Or did you think he managed to smooth Annarietta’s ruffled feathers?“
Erik: (laughs in his sleeve) „Or worse – Vespula’s?“
Vědmi: “My, my! Someone’s very well versed in latest gossips, am I right, monsieur le phantôm?”
Erik: “Oh please. I know the details just because this shrew and my María know each other. As for me, I could live even without this knowledge.”
Andy: “María indeed knows almost everyone. No offense, of course.”
Geralt: “Could we PLEASE get back to much more serious matter than why and from where do whose partners know each other? Mine will skin me alive when she sees me in this state! (more or less to himself) Damn, Vesemir was right once again, when he said we shouldn’t drink so much because we would regret it later. But is it my fault Zoltan fetched that archival Mahakam spirit immediately after that?”
Vědmi: “Can’t you just, I don’t know, brew yourself the Wives’ Tears of something like that?”
Geralt: “Look… the fact I’m sitting here, talking to you in a way that somehow makes sense, doesn’t mean a thing. I haven’t felt this sick as long as I can remember. And I’m not entirely sure what will happen the moment I’ll try to get up. I’d throw up into the pot before I could even try to brew something in it, most likely.”
Erik: (to Vědmi) “I’d LOVE to know how the rest of the participants ended up.”
Andy: (gets up) “I can’t stand by any longer, Geralt. Come on, I think I have something that would help you down in the laboratory.” (leaves the room)
(Geralt slowly and carefully follows him, Vědmi and Erik remain in the kitchen)
(they’re sitting in silence for a while)
Erik: “Don’t look at me like that. We should have figured out sooner that Dandelion and Zoltan were involved in this.”
Vědmi: “Meh, I don’t give a hoot about who wrecked him like this. He could be drinking with every single one of those dum-dums of the Wild Hunt for all I care, he’s an adult, and as such, he should know that excessive drinking equals headache. I agree with Vesemir almost every time, and I don’t intend to make any exceptions this time. Don’t drink, don’t regret it afterward. But that’s not what’s on my mind.”
Erik: “Then what… Wait, let me guess. Is it because you had an itch for Dandelion?”
Vědmi: (deadly serious) “Tell me this was just a weak attempt to make a remarkably stupid joke because otherwise, I’m giving you a ten-second head start. Drogo helped me retrieve all of the knives which fell behind the stove about a week ago.”
Erik: (raises hands in a defensive gesture) “Keep calm. As you say, it’s just a stupid joke. But it HAS something to do with the bard, non?”
Vědmi: “I’m mostly nice to that fool, in bounds of possibility, and I haven’t told him he’s a nitwit and a skirt chaser to his face for more than a year! For fun nor seriously! And he doesn’t even send me an invitation!”
Erik: “So, is this the only thing that’s troubling you?”
Vědmi: “Tsk. ‘The only thing,’ he says. Hm…  Do you think it could be due to that one time three years ago when we stole his lute, and then we sent it back to him one string at a time?”
Erik: “To our – and your especially – defence, I need to add that he was flirting with you in a very indiscreet way. And this was quite adequate retribution. I think he didn’t invite you more likely because he remembers very well when we tied him up with those strings for a similar offence, and that Nuada and NoName sang an intentionally off-key version of Dornishman’s Wife to torture him a bit more. I can’t help it, but I think you didn’t even try to stop them.”
Vědmi: (considers it) “Maybe you’re right… Oh! Or is it because of that other time when I dashed the leftovers of the disgusting old soup at him because he was serenading me underneath the window?”
Erik: “When I’m thinking of it now… We’re giving him fairly hard time, aren’t we?”
Vědmi: (theatrically) “Living amongst the group of fictional villains is corrupting me!”
Erik: “I see myself more like an antihero, and I could argue over this too. And don’t make yourself look like a victim, because you’re not innocent either. Should I remind to you some of these ideas came from your head?”
Vědmi: “Ha! Such an insult! If Andy were here, he’d stand up for me for sure!”
Erik: “But Anderien is out of question. To tell the truth, I’m not entirely sure he could…”
Vědmi: (with a bit of “Creator’s Sense of Guilt” in her voice) “Mind what you’re saying, you could be in for a nasty surprise. He had certain moments in life where you wouldn’t want to get into his ha-“
(once again, another portal opens in the kitchen)
Vědmi: (bangs the table with her fist) “Oh come on now! What kind of manners is this, turning my kitchen into interchange…”
(out of the portal comes Yennefer; it doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood)
Vědmi: “… station. Mornin’?”
Erik: “Eeh… bonjour, madame Yennefer?”
Yennefer: “Where is he?!”
Vědmi: (immediately turns the posters blank side up and quickly tries to gloss over Geralt’s absence) “Honestly? We weren’t expecting you to come here so soon! I thought you were meant to arrive in the evening! And I’d take a guess Gery didn’t expect you so soon either… He went to… went to…”
Yennefer: “Well?!”
Erik: “To take a shower.”
Vědmi: “To get the flowers. (looks at Erik) (kind of desperately) Wait for a second, he said he’s going to take a shower right after the afternoon coffee!”
Erik: “You wait! He wanted to get the flowers when he’s done showering!”
Vědmi: “Uh-oh…”
Yennefer: “If only you weren’t driveling… I know very well what he’s been doing. When it comes to that half-witted bard, what else could they be up to? Invoking the djinn?!”
Vědmi: (snickers) “Yeah, gin was probably involved too.” (discreetly puts the pile of posters out of sorceress’ sight)
Yennefer: “What do you have here?”
Vědmi: “Eee… nothing. I was drawing… a bit…”
Yennefer: (takes a seat) “He was supposed to let me know after he’d left that party. Don’t look at me like this. After the pogrom in Rivia, I tend to worry about Geralt a lot more.”
Erik: “Our dear witcher didn’t think this through, I agree completely. But why didn’t you go to look for him – let’s say – at Kaer Morhen?”
Yennefer: “Do you suppose I didn’t already go there? At the first go! Wait, no. At the second go, actually. At first, I went to look for him at that Dandelion’s tavern in Novigrad. I almost caused Zoltan a heart attack. Nevertheless, they told me Geralt already left and sent me right to Kaer Morhen.”
Vědmi: “Now this is picking up speed. Do you want some coffee? Why am I asking, you do for sure. Black with milk, am I right?”
Yennefer: (curtly nods and continues) “When I saw how Eskel and Lambert came out of this event, I knew it wouldn’t be realistic to expect Geralt would be better off no matter how. There are only three places he tends to spend a lot of time at, and since your house is the last one I didn’t already check out, it would be a huge coincidence if he didn't come back here, either. (sighs) I’m going to lose my mind because of him one day.”
Erik: “I think you're a bit too severe on him.”
Vědmi: “Yeah, that poor fellow doesn’t really deserve this… today. I don’t want to defend him, he sure has a lot of imperfections, but I’m ready to vouch for him right now.”
Erik: “He probably just forgot to let you know, it happens even to the best of us… ehm…”
Vědmi: (pokes the phantom to the ribs) (under her voice) “Don’t overdo it, I bet there’s a lot of things you don’t want María to find out…”
Erik: (ignores Vědmi) “She’s babbling again, it happens a lot, don’t listen to her, it’s not worth it. But what did I want to say before she interrupted me? Ah, oui. Geralt forgot to let you know. And as I mentioned, it happens. See, a lot going on – I mean, there’s this anniversary of yours, his best friend is going to get married… And I admit, he did drink, indeed.  But only a bit, and then he got back here quite early.”
Vědmi: (latches on Erik’s improvisation) “Masked weirdo over here’s right. You have not only one, but three witnesses of Geralt’s arrival!”
Yennefer: (slightly ironically) “It's not like I didn't believe what you two are saying, but where do you have the third one?”
Erik: “It’s Anderien Ettreasil, you must have heard of him.”
Yennefer: “That half-elven alchemist? Well, I sometimes do trade with him. Sure, he’s quite trustworthy, but..”
Vědmi: “Exactly! Right now, he and Gery are doing something down in the lab. (ostentatiously pretends to be offended) And they didn’t even let ME to join them! It’s gotta be some sort of surprise, believe me!"
(sound of the opened door can be heard; in a moment, Andy and Geralt are coming in the kitchen) (Geralt’s in a significantly better and more sober state than he was in after he got out of the portal)
Vědmi: “Great! And now there are all of us this situation applies to!”
Geralt: (expectably surprised) “Yen! What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you to come here so soon…”
Erik: (gives Vědmi a wink) “Where did I hear this today?”
Yennefer: (stands up from the table, folds her arms) (surprisingly calmly) “Geralt of Rivia.”
Vědmi: (to Erik and Andy) (half seriously) “Uh-oh, she called him by his full name! All hell’s going to break loose!”
Yennefer: “I always thought you’re a self-dependent grown man. And that you know what does it mean when we agree on something.”
Geralt: (you can tell from his look that he wishes to be somewhere else)
Andy: “Well… I’d better be going, I’m not sure if I put the burner out…” (prepares to beat a retreat in a very diplomatic way)
Erik: “No, no, stay here. This is going to get interesting.”
Yennefer: (ignores all of the distractions and continues) “After all, I even believed you could even be responsible. And meanwhile, you're even worse than our daughter. She at least lets me know whenever she gets held up somewhere and knows when she's getting back home.”
Geralt: “But Yen…”
Yennefer: “Do I look like I finished speaking?! This one’s for disappearing and not letting me know about your whereabouts, leaving me worried sick!” (slaps Geralt)
(Geralt, because he knows he “earned” it, handles the slap with at least some dignity)
(two thirds of the onlookers, on the other hand, react greatly exaggerated)
Vědmi: (overacts covering her eyes) “Holy shiP!”
Erik: (with extremely false concern in his voice) “Oww, this might HURT!”
Yennefer: “And this one…”
(everyone’s getting for the worst – Vědmi even above her usual “fondness” towards other people’s misfortune)
Yennefer: (no one’s expecting her kissing Geralt on the same cheek where she slapped him before) “… is for your effort after all these years we’re together. I’m glad you didn’t forget our anniversary, and I greatly appreciate it. However (critically examines her dearest from tip to toe) that vomit stain on your shirt kind of ruins this moment.”
Andy: (to Geralt) “I was preparing to let you know.”
Yennefer: “It doesn’t matter right now. But I’m hoping you’ll smarten up until the evening. If not, Triss still owes me a bottle of wine, so I have an alternative program. (opens a new portal) See you later, Geralt. (steps into the portal and disappears)
(nothing much happens for a while)
Geralt: “Alright, I admit it, I tend to make mistakes. You can stop laughing, Vědmi.”
Vědmi: (wipes off tears from the previous fit of laughing) “Sorry. I… pfffhehe… I’m okay, yeah…”
Geralt: “So… first I’ll go to throw this (takes off the filthy shirt) into the laundry basket, and then…”
Erik: “Watch that fanservice, you’re going to kill our landlady.”
Vědmi: (blushes) “Tssk!”
Geralt: (chuckles and leaves the room with the shirt thrown over his shoulder)
(the not-so-early morning quickly regains its previous calmness; lonely trio goes back to their not-so-hot-anymore beverages)
(ANOTHER portal opens, and random young Nilfgaardian soldier falls out of it)
Vědmi: (swiftly stands up) “Oh, come on! Are you fookin’ kiddin’?!”
Random Nilfgaardian soldier: (glances around) “T-this isn’t Wyzima…?”
Erik: (sarcastically) “No way! How did you notice?”
RNS: (at the beginning of a panic attack) “By the Great Sun, this can’t be happening! What am I going to do now?! I don’t even know how and why that portal opened up right in front of me! General Voorhis is going to kill me once I got back! I…”
Andy: “Calm down, boy. I suppose we know general Voorhis. He’s about this tall, kinda ginger, likes horses…?”
Erik: “Oh wait, isn’t it the same ginger Nilfgaardian who tried to hit on our Vědmi?”
Andy: “But of course he is! (to RNS) Don’t worry, young friend, Vědmi will help you with your trouble. She and general Voorhis know each other VERY WELL! (unsuccessfully tries to hide a grin; Erik already gave up trying)”
Vědmi: (annoyed) “Cut it out, you two! I agreed to go out with him once for a glass of wine in Novigrad. ONCE! And you’re immediately making a mountain out of a molehill! And I wish I didn’t go there. He looked like he’s hoping we could repeat it some other time…”
Erik: (mockingly) “Exactly.”
RNS: (observes the conversation considerably confused)
Vědmi: (dramatically) “OK! Fine! I’ll do it! I’ll put myself out for greater good and explain it wasn’t a desertion nor treason! But the moment he starts to hit on me again, I’ll bite your heads off! (to RNS) And you – sit down for a moment, I still need to make myself look like at least half decent human being, and it’s going to take a while. Do you want some coffee?”
  THE END
17 notes · View notes
aliypop · 3 years
Text
The Heat Of It All
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Wordcount: 2,086 
Warning: Language, suggestive themes 
A/N: Thank you to @sharlatan-ka​ for your help and advice!, Also yes I enjoyed the scene of our Kaer Morons getting drunk together I incorporated it into chapter 5 so here it goes!
 The two other witchers still staring at Geralt and Adina had soon gotten an idea, a game of some sort that Lambert learned from an Oxenfurt man. But the one rule to the game was that you only took a shot when the question applied to you. "I don't think a princess such as yourself would want in on this.." Lambert smirked, nearly downing a stein of Ale. "I think I'll go first.." Adina smirked, her bottle of vodka already to her lips. Geralt only sighed as he walked over towards the table sitting next to Lambert.  
"I've never had a threesome with a doppler and a mage!" Adina smirked, taking her sip of vodka. Watching around her, she had noticed Eskel, who picked up his glass along with her. 
 "I stand corrected.." Lambert looked at Geralt, who only shrugged. He then cleared his throat as he tried to think of a question. " I've never slept with a succubus .." the table got quiet, and the whole table except for Lambert took a nice swig. " How bout that, expected Geralt might've but you!" he looked at Eskel in complete shock. Adina only took it as he must've been the innocent one out of the batch.
" I'm a sucker for women with horns," Eskel admitted, watching both Adina and Geralt laugh.  
"What's your excuse, Adina." 
"War and women go hand in hand." she then looked at Geralt, who shook his head at the knight airing out her dirty laundry that he didn't even know. 
"Alright.. my turn... " Eskel smirked, "I never after a bender, woken up wearing nothing but my knickers." 
Both Lambert and Geralt took a drink. Adina only merely cackling like a hyena.
 "And all those times I thought you just slept naked.." she laughed. Geralt only rolled his eyes as the pain that Adina caused was slowly melting away from every sip.
"What would papa Vesemir say," Eskel questioned his speech a bit slurred, 
"Think papa Vesemir, would'a drank that round too..." Geralt smirked back at Eskel, a bit of tension between the two wolf witchers. "Quit yer blabbering an go!"Adina interjected, watching the two stare at each other. 
"I've never jumped out of a lover's window." Geralt laughed, watching as he looked at Lambert drink and then back at Adina. Adina had seemed to have been having a grand time, but he still saw something that said differently. "My turn ..." Adina laughed, watching the candle flicker amongst Geralt's face. She didn't know if it was the vodka, Ale mix in her cup, or her small amount of consciousness, but she had never been so attracted to Geralt as she was now. "Let's end on that, or else I'll never be able to look you all in the eyes again.." he turned to see honey orange eyes looking nearly drunk in his direction.  
"There's nothing you've done that I haven't done worse.." Adina had then slurred, "Lambert, another ounce of ale!" she cheered, halfway sitting up. The keep had reminded her almost, like her childhood tower. Except for a bit warmer of an atmosphere with the wolve's. A few tables were surrounding them, and a few beds possibly enough to hold the three witchers for when they returned. " I want to hear more," Eskel said, grinning a bit at the two: waiting on Lambert felt as if it took forever, which caused Eskel to meddle a bit in Geralt's life, being that he brought a knight home. Or more so, she followed him like a lost cat. "So why a knight... If you don't mind me asking?" Adina perked up at the question while Geralt only groaned, mostly due to the fact he hadn't thought to ask her.
 "You really wanna know.." she asked, propping herself up. "I wanted an escape from the life I was living.." she sighed. Adina knew that what she had to say would sound stupid and a bit daft, but it was about time she'd let her final self shine through. "What life was that.." Geralt asked, getting a bit invested in what she had to say. Adina only nudged him as she laughed, 
"Being a princess.." 
"A princess?" Eskel looked at Geralt.
"Yes.. now can I finish talking.." she asked, drinking out of Geralt's glass. Both witchers only nodded as they stopped talking. "I wasn't just a princess: I was a child of surprise.. and.." Adina started remembering how many times she had gotten hit on or forced to stay in the towers that still reeked of dead things when she thought about them. She could feel the stinging mark on her back still left by Clarion just as she could still smell the flesh from within her nostrils. 
"The king my birth father loved reminding me just how much a royal fuck up I was.. " she began laughing to hide her pain. "I ran away when I was 13 .. got slapped around training to be a knight.. left again never looked back, and I found this big oaf." she poked Geralt, watching as he cracked a smile. Too drunk to try to be mean towards Adina, he only pulled her close, feeling sorry for her. Hearing her talk about her left only made him question at times how she could still be so kind. 
 "I see you cozied up with Wolf over there," Lambert smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. "Well.. what can I say: he's warm," she smirked, scratching behind his ear. The get together was then stopped as they heard the footsteps of Vesemir. Almost like thunder, the keep was silent with a collective.
"Oh, shit.." 
"To bed all of you!" Vesemir said as if his wolves had awoken him. The three wolves slept in their beds in the keep, All except for Geralt. Who fell out of his bed and asleep on the floor. Adina, who had been in what she assumed was a guest room tower, snuggled up into the fur with nothing much but the moonlight to radiate it. "It's just you and me .." she sighed. Tossing and turning throughout the night as she had done when she was sleeping during her nights in battle. Adina knew what had gotten into her: but didn't want to admit it. It was the warmth of having Geralt beside her.  
"Psst... Geralt, are you sleep.." Eskel tapped him with his foot.
"No, I'm slowly trying to die in peace.." he sassed, looking up seeing the other Witcher, the soft lighting highlighting his scratches. The truth of the matter was Geralt had not been asleep. He was closing his eyes hoping that instead, he would drift away. "Why.. what's going on.." Geralt asked. Eskel and Geralt had always been close like brothers though some would argue even like lovers. They knew each other well enough to read each other. " I could ask you the same thing.." he smirked, crouching down to the white wolf's level. 
"It's her, isn't it..."
"Her who.." 
"The princess.. you grew attached, and now you can't sleep without her, eh," he smirked, watching Geralt's expression changed from his usual scowl to a softer look. It was true that Geralt, who usually had no problem sleeping alone, was having problems sleeping alone.
 "I spent months without her.." 
"And how was that going for ya.. "
"Hmm.." 
"Exactly.." 
Suddenly Geralt's ears had perked up, picking up on the sound of Adina panting. Knowing that something wasn't right, he took to the spiraled stairs and towards the tower Adina was staying in: Sitting there with sweaty, matted hair was Adina, her eyes bloodshot orange. Since the wars and her small missions, she had been accumulating night terrors, except they were never about what she experienced, 
But instead of her father, "He's going find me.. and kill... her..." Adina had said, her eyes fixed on Geralt, who was trying to decipher what she was clambering on about, 
"What the hell are you talking about.." 
"I'm talking about my father!" she turned her back to him. Geralt only sighed as he got under the fur and pulled her close. He wasn't always good at comforting, but he knew that silence had always been golden for the two. 
"Your father's a dick... " Geralt began to think of what to say. "With balls!" 
Adina had only laughed, knowing that was the only thing he could think to say. "He's a .. a .. limp dick noodle!" she then began to join in, laughing at the fact that her taunting wasn't much better. "But you.. you are perfect.." she turned to kiss his nose. Geralt had only turned brighter than his already drunken cheeks. 
"You.. you don't mean that.."  
"Drunk men tell ye no tale.." she glanced at him. 
"Well.. this drunk man's going to sleep before he says somethin.. he regre-"
"Like what.." Adina turned to face him. Her eye's wanting him to say more than what he led off. "Go to bed.." he wrapped his arm across her waist, something that he hadn't done in a while. 
"Watch your foot placement, Geralt.." Vesemir grumbled. Training wasn't an uncommon practice during the winter months at Kaer Morhen. It was just unusual to have an outsider training along with them. "Adina, straighten your back." he watched the two spar. To say that Adina was good was an unsatisfying and underestimated statement: Her swordsmanship seemed beyond human almost, even for the usual knight. He just hoped her hand to hand combat was the same. 
 "Lambert, stop that at once!" Vesemir rushed over to the two. Being surrounded by shirtless men didn't phase Adina, but being surrounded by a shirtless, sweaty Geralt was a bit more challenging. Grabbing his fist, she only gave him a look that meant she was ready for whatever he chose to throw first. Dodging his first punch, she took her hand to hit in his side, feeling a bit victorious. Jabbing at him with her fist getting him a bit bloody, Geralt took his sword. Lunging towards her, he knew that she would have a disadvantage. "You think you're sneaky White wolf.." she mumbled. Taking back her sword, she got into a combat stance, ready to plunge into him. 
"I bet you a few coins... Wolf's gonna win.." Eskel smirked.
"My bets on the knight kicks Geralt's ass." Lambert winked. The two kept watching the fight, both opponents a bit bloody. Geralt's lips curled into that of a cocky smile, sharp canine teeth, and a few hairs coming out from his ponytail. 
"Having a hard time focusing.." 
"You wish.." she pushed him away. Suddenly she felt his strong hands wrapped around her neck, not too tight to kill her. But strong enough to send his message across. Adina only bit her lip, watching as he came closer. 
"My.. my Geralt, at least take me out for a drink first! "
Adina had now been hovering over Geralt, who she had the joy of pinning him down to the ground. Sweet victory, she would have called it. 
"I believe I won, Mr. wolf..." she took the tip of her sword under his chin. Straddling him the way that she was, she could tell it wouldn't be her last time. 
"Whatever.." Geralt rolled his eyes, seeing Eskel pay up on what he knew was a bet with Lambert.
 "Oh, and one more thing." 
"What now.." he looked over at her. 
"Next time, add more pressure and take me from behind won'tcha," she smirked, removing herself off Geralt. He could smell the scent of need radiating off of her. Nothing that a wolf couldn't fix. 
 Later that night, the four gathered around the table to some drinking and another round of I've never. 
"I've never fucked a demon!" Lambert said both Eskel and Geralt had their steins still on the table. Adina knocked her stein back, taking a sip. 
"Why.. not that I'm judging, but why.." 
"He was hot. I was 16 and curious." Adina then turned to Eskel, "Your turn!" she giggled, this time holding her mead, wine, and vodka a bit better. 
"Never ave I.. ever slept with Geralt!" Eskel took a sip of his drink as Lambert was shocked that Adina didn't. "Wait... Wait.. you've never." 
"I have never slept with the acclaimed almighty sex witcher Geralt." Adina gave him a smirk.  
"But a succubus, a mage, doppler, a few women in a brothel, and a prince, but not Geralt!" 
"He never asked.." 
"Neither did you.." 
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notquiteaghost · 4 years
Text
come on out and live
the witcher, geralt/jaskier + geralt/yennefer, 2k
established relationships, trans woman geralt (& yennefer), nonbinary trans man jaskier, #T4T, sequel to gnawing through the bars, let! geralt! have! nice! things!
also on AO3
When Geralt is ten, she’s a boy.
She’s a boy, because they’re all boys, because Witchers are men, because the spells only work on men. She has short hair and she wears trousers and she spends her days fighting, because they all do. She can’t remember any different, not clearly, not with anything other than a strange, aching kind of longing she doesn’t understand.
She’s a boy. She doesn’t like being a boy. She doesn’t like a lot of things — the sound of swords clashing, the reddish vegetable they put in the stew sometimes, when the older boys try to explain things to her that she knows. Life, she’s learning, is a lot about putting up with things.
She says, once, late at night when they’re the only two awake, right into Eskel’s ear the way they do with secrets, “What if I’m a girl?”
And Eskel hums, and thinks, and says, “Then the Trials won’t work.”
Geralt doesn’t want to be a man.
Geralt wants to be a Witcher.
Eskel rolls over to face her, the set of his brow solemn. “If you’re a girl,” he says, “then the Trials won’t work. If you aren’t, then they will.”
“So I can be a man, or I can die?”
“You can run away.” Geralt’s lip curls, some mix of anger and revulsion, and Eskel presses their foreheads together. “I’ll come with you, if you want. We’d be okay, together.”
Running away, Geralt knows, is just another way of dying. They’re far from any other people, and they wouldn’t be able to take horses, and they wouldn’t know where to go. Boys who run away don’t make it — they’re brought back, one way or another.
Geralt doesn’t want to die. She wants to be a Witcher.
“If the Trials work,” she says.
“If the Trials work,” Eskel agrees.
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One night, when the weather is foul and the bed is warm, and against all his better judgement, Geralt allows Yennefer to rest her head on his ribs. Trace over his scars with her fingertips, make that kind of intimate conversation he’s only ever otherwise had with Jaskier. The only light is from the moon, through the window, and Geralt doesn’t know how to tell Yenn he’s no good place to unburden secrets without her thinking it’s the softness in her voice he’s protesting.
“I was a boy, once, you know,” she says, apropos of nothing but the mood settled over the both of them. “Before Aretuza, anyway.”
Geralt can’t help but tense. Yenn, of course, notices.
“If that’s a problem—” She starts, sits up. Geralt shakes his head, sharply, thankful she knows him well enough to let that silence her.
It takes him several moments, to gather the words.
“Witchers are men,” he says. It would be far easier to let her just pluck this from his mind, but she knows him too well to do that when he isn’t actively dying. “The Trials, they’re designed for men. It’s a delicate magic. Many die.”
“Ah,” Yennefer says.
He doesn’t need to say, It was all I knew, I was a child, It was no choice at all. Doesn’t need to explain the isolation, the pressure, how easy it is to sacrifice your happiness when you’ve only caught the smallest glimpses. How it wasn’t about happiness at all.
“Another thing we have in common, then,” she says, and Geralt very abruptly wants to throw something. She notices, she always notices, and her voice is the closest to gentleness it ever is when she says, “I’m sure there are still ways—”
“Don’t.”
“If I just knew more about the mutagens—”
He growls, and sits up, swings his legs out of bed entirely to put his back to her. “Everyone who knew is dead. Everyone who could have helped is dead. I can’t—” He clenches his fists. Something ugly and roiling is filling up his chest, curling up his throat. “We are not the same.”
A lie.
They’re exactly the same, but Geralt is a Witcher, and Witchers don’t get what they want. Mages, the world can’t roll over for quick enough. Witchers aren’t so lucky. He does the work, and he’s good at it, and that’s enough. That’s plenty. It has to be.
Yennefer, of course, would rather die than settle. Would rather die than compromise.
Geralt can’t die. Geralt is necessary.
“Okay,” Yenn says. Less gentle, more stubborn. This isn’t over, because Yenn is relentless, but she knows when to call truce. “Does your bard know?”
Geralt curses.
Of course Jaskier doesn’t know. Jaskier doesn’t— Jaskier is so set on reshaping the world for Geralt’s sake, so sure it’s only not already rolling over for him too for lack of trying, so hopeful. It hurts, sometimes.
All the reasons Geralt keeps letting Jaskier close, though, are all the reasons Jaskier and Yenn can’t go longer than an evening without ending up at each other’s throats. So, thank the Gods, she doesn’t press. Doesn’t try and tell him Jaskier should know, he should let Jaskier help. Does, instead, wrap a hand around his arm and tug until he lies back down.
“There’s a man,” she says, as she once more arranges him and the blankets to her liking, “in the next town. Several people would very much like him dead.”
Geralt hums, and lets her promise him an opportunity to make his sacrifice worth it, and doesn’t speak again.
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Sometimes, Geralt thinks Jaskier might also be a mindreader.
He knows, of course, that there are many nuances to people that are lost on him, and that knowing them is no magic. Jaskier has to be good at reading people; it’s half his job. But, sometimes, Jaskier doesn’t just correctly read Geralt’s body language, or hear entire sentences in his Hmms. Sometimes, it seems Jaskier reaches right into the core of him, and plucks free things even Geralt didn’t know he was harbouring.
They’re at the banquet for Jaskier.
This is a thing Jaskier does, and if Jaskier got his way then they wouldn’t spend a single second apart. There’s no hidden motivation to him inviting Geralt, beyond wanting to spend time with him and introduce him to his friends and send him insane with the sight of that dress. They’re here for Jaskier, because Jaskier doesn’t know. No one ever knows, unless Geralt tells them.
It’s a small gathering, only three dozen or so people, and they all greet Jaskier by name. Are delighted, truly just delighted to finally meet his fabled White Wolf. They smile wide, embrace Jaskier tightly, don’t try to embrace Geralt. Ask about a line in a song, a monster they heard tell of, if Jaskier still kicks in his sleep something awful. There’s music, songs that everyone but Geralt knows, and dancing, and enough noise to drown out banquets three times as large.
Jaskier asks him to dance, mouth curled in that smirk that always makes Geralt want to drop, immediately, to his knees. Geralt can’t find the strength to say no, and he’s clumsy, wrongfooted, but he’s not the only one, and the press of Jaskier close to him is intoxicating.
The whole night, no one calls him Jaskier’s man. No one calls him man at all, only Wolf, only friend. Something in their tone, too, reassures they don’t mean to monster him, don’t see only claws and snarl. He’s Jaskier’s Wolf.
And, once they’re back at their room, it all won’t leave Geralt’s head. Jaskier wearing a dress, and none of his friends batting an eye — Geralt wearing a shirt and pants and medallion, and everyone still taking care not to assume — the woman with a deeper voice and a well-groomed beard who asked about Geralt’s swords — the joy, palpable in the air, bright as sunshine — Yennefer’s voice, I’m sure there are still ways.
Naturally, Jaskier notices. Presses. Asks What do you want? as if Geralt’s answer matters. Says You’re a woman as if it’s that easy, that simple, an irrefutable truth. An inconsequential fact.
It guts Geralt. It always does.
Come morning, Jaskier wants to make plans.
“Where was Yennefer, last?” He asks, as he hands a plate of breakfast to Geralt and climbs back onto the bed. Soon, they’ll need to leave, to make it to some minor court Jaskier is playing at in good time, but Jaskier has clearly decided they’re having this conversation before Geralt can disappear into the woods to avoid his questions.
“There’s nothing Yenn can do.”
Jaskier raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, does she know you think that? She’s the most powerful mage on the Continent, you know.”
Geralt huffs. “Witchers have to be men, for the mutagens to work. The magic is… complicated.”
“But they’ve worked,” Jaskier points out. “You’re mutated. That can’t be undone, surely.”
“No,” Geralt allows. “But I could die.”
That shuts Jaskier up.
The breakfast is good — only bread and cheese, nothing fancy, but good bread, the sort only ever found in well-off towns. Maybe Geralt will track down the baker before they leave, buy a loaf or two. They’re well enough for coin.
Jaskier’s brow is still furrowed in thought, as they eat. The various enchantments has had did, of course, carry their own level of risk. That’s not the root of the problem.
“…Yennefer worked it out, didn’t she,” he says, between bites of bread. “And offered her help, and you dismissed her out of hand, because you’ll never let yourself have anything good when you could suffer instead.”
Geralt looks pointedly at Jaskier, sat on their bed, wearing one of Geralt’s shirts.
Jaskier huffs. “That’s not the rebuke you think it is, dearest, when we both well remember each time you tried to chase me away. All knowledge of the mutagens is lost?”
There was a time, once, when Jaskier wouldn’t dare ask a question like that. Geralt misses it.
“There are books,” she admits. She could lie, but Jaskier knows Eskel, now, and lying would only delay the inevitable. “But they were for reference, not teaching. If you don’t already understand, they’re of no use.”
“For making a Witcher.”
Geralt nods.
“But we don’t want to make a Witcher,” Jaskier points out. “We want to slightly alter the Witcher we already have. And, yes, that’s no less dangerous, but Witcher books might be slightly more forthcoming about general care and maintenance, no?”
Dammit.
Dammit, why must he be right.
Geralt stands, and busies herself pulling on her armour. Jaskier knows she needs time to collect her thoughts, but she finds it easier when her hands are moving.
So far, everything Jaskier’s decided is for Geralt’s own good has happened, regardless of her feelings. Jaskier is the ocean, if the ocean were capable of warmth and gentleness; no one can outlast his determination. Jaskier has decided Geralt deserves this. The only way it isn’t happening is if one of them dies.
Yenn, also, likes it when Geralt is happy. And she already has something of a personal vendetta about the Trials, and how little she knows of the. She would overthrow one of the smaller countries, for the chance to look through Kaer Morhen’s library.
“…Come winter,” Geralt says, after she’s moved on to cleaning her swords, and Jaskier has packed the rest of their belongings away, “We’ll go to Kaer Morhen. And bring Yenn.”
Jaskier beams at her.
“Do you think Eskel still remembers he owes me?”
Two winters previous, Geralt had nearly lost an arm to a manticore days before she needed to leave if she wanted to beat the snow, and Jaskier had refused to leave her side. So, reluctantly, she had brought him to the Witcher stronghold. Vesemir had been insufferable, and Jaskier had managed to get Eskel and Lambert to believe his naive-and-hopeless-noble routine long enough to swindle the both of them at cards.
“I’m sure you’ll remind him,” she says, and sheathes her sword. “Where was it you’re playing?”
Jaskier allows the conversation to shift, now the matter is settled to his satisfaction, and starts on one of his long, rambling diatribes about the sins and spoils of the court they’re headed to. They head out the inn, to the stables, and Geralt lets the rhythm of Jaskier’s words set Roach’s pace as they head out of town.
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