onlyivy

[onlyivy]

OnlyIvy turned 1 today!

[onlyivy]

hey, I hope everyone is okay, especially in the UK with the storm

I have spent the day planning a few more further fics and i thought i would give you a sneak peak at the titles and who i'm writing for next (I can't promise these will be in order of upload, nor that the titles will remain as they are)

[onlyivy]

Serendipity Part Two// Geralt Of Rivia

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Summary: Ademia is running through the forest when she stumbles across a strange figure tending to his horse. Fate seemed to have pulled them together in the form of a metal coin.

Word Count; 1.9k

Warnings; lots of mystery surrounding Ademia as it is technically a part of my story on Wattpad yet to be published (Ademia is 15).

Part One

--

The two walked for five days, neither here nor there and Ademia was convinced that she would never be able to retrace her steps if asked. Though Geralt owned Roach, he didn't ride upon her for the five days and five nights -- instead joining her on foot.

On the sixth night, they slept in an inn, in preparation for Geralt to fight the monster cursing the town - though Ademia believed it might also have been because of the strong storm coming in, one that she wasn't sure she had the supplies to sleep through, clearly, Geralt shared her same worries.

In the morning, Geralt still hadn't returned. She had packed up her belongings back into her kit, bed made fresh and yet Geralt never knocked on the still locked door. She was growing agitated, wondering if he would actually return, but his clothes still remained in the room.

To busy herself, she packed those away also, yet there was still no sign of the witcher. She sat on the edge of the bed, boot-clad feet bouncing on the wooden floor, likely annoying whoever was beneath their room, likely the people just behind the bar.

Her teeth found themselves nibbling on the inside of her lip until a dull heat blew the skin and it began to taste metallic. She had been fine without him before, therefore why was she worrying. Yet, her definition of fine likely strayed from a sain persons'.

Just as she was about to get up from the bed and check for Roach at the front of the inn, the wooden door knocked. "Ademia," Though Ademia had only been in his company for a week, Geralt's voice was unmistakable, "It's Geralt," She had noticed his voice was always gruff, but this time it seemed to be squeezed out, as though his lungs couldn't keep in enough oxygen to supply his muscles and speak.

She jumped to her feet and opened the door, fingers working skillfully on the locks to pop them clear in record speed. Sure enough, standing in his mud-caked armour, was Geralt. His usually straw-like hair was clumped together with shit and waterlogged dirt. The muck spread onto his cheeks and his eyes told her that he was in desperate need of a bath and sleep.

His sword was holstered once again, and in one had was a sack of coins, the other, a large white fur scarf -- one that certainly wouldn't fit him. The gash on his chest just above those items, a claw ripped through the armour and turned his skin bloody.

Quickly, she jumped out of the way, allowing him into the room. He made a beeline for the bed before dropping both items onto the sheets. "Where -- where were you? Are you alright?" She asked almost hesitantly whilst Geralt worked in silence,

"I got knocked out, fine now," He answered shortly, not even bothering to glance over his shoulders to look at her. Once his sword was also on the bed, he turned around, "That is for you," He nodded to the fur, "The air is getting colder, you will need it,"

Ademia nodded her thanks, but that wasn't her main thought, instead, her eyes lingered on the wound, "Are you alright?" She asked again, nodding to the wound,

Geralt scrunched his brow, glancing down at the wound before humming. He walked to his pack before pulling out a little bottle of white water. She watched eagerly as he poured it onto the wound, both of them wincing at the sizzle that followed.

He ripped a rectangle of cloth from one of his clothes and wrapped it around the wound awkwardly as he still kept his tunic on. Instead of being caught watching him, she turned to the fur cloth, stroking it with her thumb, the soft bristles bending easily underneath her skin. "Thank you," She whispered, but she knew the Witcher would hear her. "Perhaps you should bathe." She tried to speak softly, knowing that her words could be taken negatively,

Geralt hummed as she turned back to face him, he sniffed the air before raising a brow, "I do smell like shit," causing her body to relax and a small smile to break on her face. "Pay the innkeeper whilst I do, half that sack should be enough to pay it," He pointed lazily to the pouch before grabbing the bucket which lay in the empty tub.

She nodded shortly before grabbing it and her pack and left the room. down the stairs, was empty. Just the innkeepers' wife behind the bar, wiping away the glasses ready for when the first drunk stumbled in. She barely registered Ademia as she walked up, instead, the young girl cleared her throat, "Can I pay off room 2's tab?"

She only got a grunt in return, the woman went to the book, read over a couple of lines before barking out a price, the currency was foreign to her, but she followed Geralt's orders, handing over half the coins in the bag which seemed to be sufficient.

When the woman walked into the back, Ademia deemed it appropriate to leave -- the blistering wind hit her before she even stepped foot outside. She dropped her bag in the doorway and wrapped the fur around her, surprised at how insulated it truly was. Geralt knew what he was doing.

The brown coat which belonged to Roach was unmistakable to her now, just like Geralt's voice, it was truly recognizable. She sauntered over to the horse, tied just on the other side of the path to the inn. Ademia patted the horse, feeling its strong muscles beneath her hand before placing her pack opposite to where Geralt's should be held.

When she was certain that her limited belongings were secure she walked around to Roach's head, pulling out a handful of peppermints from her pocket and offering it to the horse, who took them gratefully -- sure it may seem that she was bribing the horse... but that would be a silly motion, suggesting that she believed horses were capable of taking bribes, but she did always have a soft spot for the animal.

Once the mare had finished, she nudged her head into Ademias' chest as a thank you. "What have you done to her?" Geralt's voice questioned from behind her and the girl spun around, blinking worriedly,

"What do you mean?" Shee asked quickly, confused and worried about what he was accusing her of.

"Roach doesn't trust easy." He nodded to his horse and Ademia relaxed. He then noticed her hand resting beneath the horse's mouth and hummed, "apparently the way to her heart is through her stomach."

"No. It's through the fourth and fifth rib -- at least a human's is, not sure if its the same for an animal," She muttered the last part to herself, tilting her head at the horse and ignoring how Geralt cocked his head and glanced at her,

"Speaking of which -- you need to learn to fight," Ademia raised her brow however Geralt quickly added, "You won't be joining me... out there. But if something is to happen, then I need to be confident that nothing will happen to you."

Ademia nodded, walking back towards Geralt, "Well then, I can save you the trouble, you don't need to teach me anything," She commented shortly before placing her foot through the stirrup and swinging onto the saddle,

"Is that so?"

Geralt guided them to a clearing in the woods just a few towns over from the village they had stayed in -- she wasn't sure whether it was chance or that he remembered it from some time ago, both seemed incredibly likely.

He stood at one end of the clearing, wooden stick in hand. He had become grumpy when he realised he wasn't in possession of wooden swords, bitterly saying that he'd have to make do with the sticks.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd suggest you were making excuses in case you lost," Ademia smiled, though there wasn't anything nasty about it -- rather that she was teasing, finally fully comfortable with a pretend sword in her hand.

Geralt smirked, something told her that he was glad she was loosening up a little, "Never," the word seemed to startle Ademia, often it would be a quip about her age or gender or height.

The Witcher tried to use that to his advantage, lunging forward but Ademia was still able to dodge to her right -- her instructor told her never to deal the first blow, that you could tell a lot from a persons' first stance.

Geralt's was seemingly perfect, until she noticed his foot slightly turned, an easy weakness for her to exploit but it was easy -- much too easy to defeat a Witcher. As he lunged his stick and she finally crossed it with hers, both bending slightly, not made for this purpose, "Stop trying to let me win," She spoke strongly, refusing the urge to growl at him.

Geralt scrunched his brows, glancing down before correcting his feet, "I'm not," He swiped towards her once again and she stepped back to dodge, allowing him to approach her, playing defence -- but witchers didn't slow in low energy so she'd have to act soon regardless.

And when she saw her opening, she took it. Just as he raised his sword again for another blow, she slipped past him, running slightly to his left and titled her back, shielding her from the stick in case his reactions were faster than she anticipated.

Just before she passed him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and swung fully around him, disjointing his balance and causing him to tumble to the ground -- within that short time she was able to use him to swing back to her original position and kicked off of him, landing just a few meters away from him on two feet -- Geralt laying on the frozen grass ground.

"You're injured and tired, don't worry. I know you'd bet me otherwise."

"Oh no, please don't feed his ego more. Take the win and use it to gloat, if you won't I will,"  A man from just in front of the curtain of trees called -- wearing a red jacket with matching trousers and a lute resting over his back,

"Fuck," Geralt growled before getting up from the ground and turning to the man, "Jaskier," He greeted.

The man, Jasiker, smiled and he walked towards them, "Whose this?" He asked, nodding to Ademia with a smile, "Are you stealing children again?" He faux pouted, resting his hands on his hips.

From his joking and the fact Geralt only rolled his eyes, Ademia could only assume that they were friends, otherwise, she would have to take his words for truth and wonder what kind of company she's keeping, what kind of company her mother told her to seek.

Geralt glared at him and Jaskier only rolled his eyes and turned to her, "Very well. Julian Alfred -"

"Ademia. Her name is Ademia Aetos." Geralt interrupted him, not allowing her to answer, instead, she had to watch, back and forth.

Jaskier's eyes widened as he glanced around their settings before gasping, "Is she one of the girls? The woody foresty... girls?"

Geralt still glared at the man, but he dropped his gaze when he got to his feet, "Yes,"

"No the Child Surprise?"

"No," This time Ademia answered, frustrated with the male speaking for her,

"Then... just..." Jaskier began but he wasn't sure what he was questioning, "Right." He shook off what was confusing them all, "I have heard tales of a job for you, Geralt. Good money, now come along,"

Geralt glanced at Ademia then the retreating bard, waiting for her to nod before the two set off.

[onlyivy]

Blood and Water // Geralt of Rivia

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Summary: Geralt always had strict rules for Ademia when she was out on a hunt, one day, after a year of travelling with Geralt, she finally fully understands why.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: blood, gore, gunk, angst, pain -- Ademia is sixteen

--

Travelling with Geralt was certainly a different pace of life than the one Ademia had previously been accustomed to. She had expected it to take longer than a year to fully fall into his patterns, to sense when was best to remain in an inn and when they could spend the day travelling on Roach and when it was best to just wait out the day in a clearing.

She had believed it to be easier than that. Following Geralt's lead was almost natural to her and when he told her to stay, like every other time he had to slay a creature -- she did so.

However, she had heard the villagers talking before they left to hunt down the monster, a Kikimore. She had heard about how it dwelled underground and in swamps, where sunlight wouldn't disturb it. None of the villagers had seen properly what the monster looked like, and Geralt refused to answer when she had asked -- curiosity was one thing she was never able to vanquish in her mind.

Ademia sat there, arms wrapped around her legs, back resting against a large bowlder and staring at the fire Geralt had prepared. He had reminded her of what to do if the flame went out but she had only partly been listening, instead concocting what the monster looked like.

She was supposed to get up when she heard the monster roar, which she did. But she was supposed to grab Roach and linger at the town walls for Geralt in the morning -- but for some reason, her body did the opposite.

Roach was left tied to a tree, most likely asleep after the long ride. She didn't want to annoy Geralt, she had seen the Witcher angry, and she certainly didn't want that directed towards her in any sense of the word, however, curiosity was always a strong weakness that gnawed at her, like a second skin biting its way through into her muscles; so she ran.

She ran towards the noise, ignoring the small voice in her head which listed every possible consequence Geralt could give her — she stopped dead in her tracks when she thought of the possibility Geralt would leave her in the woods to fend for herself.

The woods were alive, and she certainly wouldn't be able to hunt for fish, or start a fire, or find enough money to pay for an inn every now and then, or for already caught food.

However, Geralt had sworn to protect her, surely he would not go against that promise. And over the year they had grown close, Geralt had filled that hole of loneliness which had been caused by losing all she had.

Though he was difficult to read, and often acted as though he needed no one in his life, hadn't heard of manners or subtlety, Ademia could be easily convinced into believing that Geralt cared for her, more so than the initial "I don't want you to die for my own purely selfish reasons" and perhaps going against his word wouldn't just make him angry but upset.

It didn't take long for Ademia to realise that the tales people tell of emotionless witchers were far from the truth, and the idea of upsetting him seemed to hurt her more than just going against his word.

But the monster roared once again, and banished any thought of Geralt from her mind with it, and her feet moved once again.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting when she found herself on the bank of the swamp, but she wasn’t expecting the monster and Geralt to be fighting in front of her. They were both half-submerged in the dirty water; Geralts’ thighs skimmed the waterline as the monster — the Kikimore — attacked. It screeched every now and then when Geralt's blade nicked its flesh and it was impossible for her to tell who was actually winning the fight.

From her angle, she could see the monster in all its glory —the many legs protruding from the water with swells of muscles revealing the many different ways they were able to contort and attack, each one ending in a sharp spike which could most definitely slice a man open.

It’s body and head were almost entirely combined due to the lack of neck, and the body only really served to keep the legs together — its ears were pressed into its skull, with red, slit eyes and a row of teeth just as sharp as its legs, there wasn’t one part of the Kikimore that was for aesthetically reasons, every tiny addition to its body was purely for the benefit of killing.

Feeling entirely too exposed, Ademia pulled herself behind a tree, one which was beginning to die and wilt, perhaps due to what it was sharing its waters with. Geralt managed to deal a blow which knocked its head to the side with a roar, and although initially, Ademia took that as a victory, its eyes had landed on her, the tree much too thin to entirely cover her.

Geralt wasn’t able to see what had caught the Kikimores’ attention from his position, but he noticed his hesitance to turn back to his rival. He hit the monster once again in the face, hoping to snap him out of whatever he had seen. But that wasn’t enough, instead, it urged the creature towards her, and that was when Geralt noticed Ademia’s presence. He froze for a moment, just as she did the same, staring at the sharp teeth and claws that were barrelling towards her.

However, when Geralt yelled, yelled her name, she snapped back to the reality of the situation. She had the fighting skills against a human to win, but this was an entirely new creature, one with abilities she certainly wasn’t aware of. So she followed Geralt’s next, yelled word to the T, “Run,”

She spun around quickly, ignoring how she heard logs and the ground break and snap under the weight of the Kikimore. She didn’t dare turn around, knowing it would waste valuable time in which she needed to get away; besides she didn't need to look to know that Geralt chasing after also to stop it.

However, neither she nor he was fast enough as when Geralt dove towards it, it lept to her. It didn't manage to wrap its claws around her -- it was likely, if it had, it would have crushed her to death, but its claws caught her back, ripping into the skin and tugging her from her feet.

Her knees crumbled, and she felt herself fall face-first onto the wet floor, golden leaves creating a slight cushion against the brittle dirt below it.

She could hear metal and flesh breaking but her ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton and she focused on her fist wrapping against the wet leaves beneath her than the blood seeping from her wound and wetting her skin and drenching her tunic.

She tried to ignore the pain which was beginning as a throb and turned slowly into a roar, spasming around her body, yet that still wasn't enough to give her energy to move.

Her mind lingered in the feelings around her enough for her to be distracted over the concept of time -- it could have been hours before she felt a familiar, rough hand on her shoulder, "Damn it Ademia -- why, why didn't-" Geralt cut himself off, very gently moving her head as to not strain her neck but to gain a view of her face, seeing her drooping eyes, "Just, stay awake whilst I clean this alright?"

If he was expecting an answer, he didn't push, instead scrunching up his cloak up and placing it under her head for extra support. She remained on her back, Geralt hoped gravity would help him in his attempt to stop her from bleeding out.

He had supplies, bandages and potions he had been keeping around for her, in case she tripped or grazed her knee, but his pack was much too far away for him to grab -- he couldn't leave her on the forest floor in such a state. His hands shook as he thought of the idea of her dying, right there, in front of him. When the thought entered his mind, he began to notice the sweat building on her forehead.... a forehead which was significantly more pale than before.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," He grumbled, noticing your eyes droop again as his mind worked much too slow for his liking -- an answer wasn't jumping to him, and the fact that his brain was murky with panic and booming voices telling him that it was his fault and he wasn't working fast enough certainly wasn't helping.

A neigh caught his attention and his headshot upward, seeing a familiar horse trotting towards him, with his pack still resting over the saddle.

He sighed in relief, turning back to Ademia and pushing his hands on the gashes, manually trying to stop the blood as the horse drew closer.

"Stay away, I'll fix you up quickly," He ordered, though he wasn't sure she was listening and the words were mainly for his benefit -- however he still got a nod.

Once Roach was in fingertips reach, Geralt grabbed onto his pack and dragged it down onto the floor. "Can..." He began as he pulled out the required tools, he didn't like how rough his voice sounded, how... scared it seemed, so he cleared his throat and tried again, "Can you speak to me?"

"About what?" It was a faint whisper, but it was enough to steady his hand enough to pull out the potion,

"What was going through your mind when you followed me?" Geralt questioned, trying to remove the venom which naturally laced itself into his voice,

"I--" She began, however, Geralt poured the potion onto the open wound and you groaned into the earth, punching the ground to try and distract from the pulsing pain the lotion had caused, “I wasn't thinking," She gritted out through teeth grinding together.

As Geralt hummed the pain began to shift, instead numbing the burning walls of the wound and she was lifted up gently, Geralt kept her up by holding her shoulders, quickly grabbing the bandages and beginning to wrap them underneath her shirt,

"You know I'm gonna expect a better answer later," Geralt questioned, still working with strong hands to twist the bandages against her skin tightly, but loose enough to not further aggravate the wound.

Ademia once again nodded, feeling her head begin to weigh more than her neck was able to carry, and it fell onto Geralt's shoulder "Later, please," She whispered, "I'm so tired. Can-- can I sleep?"

Geralt grabbed onto her shoulders once again, pulling her back but using his right arm to cradle her head, knowing the lethargic ties that wrapped tightly against her muscles. He studied her face, and shook his head, "Not just yet. Talk."

"Why, old man? You rarely do," She chuckled at her own joke before setting her head back down against his shoulder, "Whatcha want me to talk about?"

"Home,"

"You've never wanted to know before," Ademia quipped back, using the little energy she had to push herself closer to Geralt, allowing him to collect her onto his lap, keeping her head still on his shoulder.

"I have," He argued back, "You aren't the easiest talker yourself, especially when its a conversation you don't want to have,"

"Isn’t that everyone's attitude to conversations they don't want to have?" She responded with a dry chuckle, though it was followed by a cough and Geralt leaned forward, grabbing his flask.

Without the hands to unscrew it, he grabbed the cork by his teeth and popped it out before placing the rim against her lip and pouring the water into her throat as he spoke, "Stop changing the subject. I thought it would be a nice thing to get all of this," He removed the flask from her lips and placed the cork back inside, "from your mind,"

She hummed back, before speaking, "It was nice, large mountains, snowed half of the year. I loved that half of the year. But there was something special about golden leaves. They are beautiful, aren't they?"

She picked one up from the ground and placed it in front of Geralt's face and he hummed, picking it from her fingers. "And... and... when the leaves were like this, the streets would be lined with tables covered in food which we would all share, like a massive banquet. I always liked the pumpkin pie from the old lady just outside of town. I would hunt it down every year," She continued with a chuckle, this time a yawn stopping her words, "Can I sleep now?"

Geralt sighed, this time making his judgement without analysing her, "Let's get back to our campfire before then, alright? There's water there and we don't want you getting an infection on top of this,"

Once again, she nodded, feeling Geralt move underneath her as he stood and used the fingers of the hand holding her back up to grasp Roach's reins and guide all of them back.

The fire was merely embers once they had returned and Geralt placed Ademia beside it. He was very quick to startle the flames back to life, especially when he noticed the sky turning a navy blue. He then created a bed from blankets and each of their clocks, then their packs as pillows before placing her on the cluster,

"Now you can sleep," He whispered once she was securely in his arms and the heat of the fire washed over each of them.

[onlyivy]

Blood and Water // Geralt of Rivia

Buy Me a Ko-Fi

Summary: Geralt always had strict rules for Ademia when she was out on a hunt, one day, after a year of travelling with Geralt, she finally fully understands why.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: blood, gore, gunk, angst, pain -- Ademia is sixteen

--

Travelling with Geralt was certainly a different pace of life than the one Ademia had previously been accustomed to. She had expected it to take longer than a year to fully fall into his patterns, to sense when was best to remain in an inn and when they could spend the day travelling on Roach and when it was best to just wait out the day in a clearing.

She had believed it to be easier than that. Following Geralt's lead was almost natural to her and when he told her to stay, like every other time he had to slay a creature -- she did so.

However, she had heard the villagers talking before they left to hunt down the monster, a Kikimore. She had heard about how it dwelled underground and in swamps, where sunlight wouldn't disturb it. None of the villagers had seen properly what the monster looked like, and Geralt refused to answer when she had asked -- curiosity was one thing she was never able to vanquish in her mind.

Ademia sat there, arms wrapped around her legs, back resting against a large bowlder and staring at the fire Geralt had prepared. He had reminded her of what to do if the flame went out but she had only partly been listening, instead concocting what the monster looked like.

She was supposed to get up when she heard the monster roar, which she did. But she was supposed to grab Roach and linger at the town walls for Geralt in the morning -- but for some reason, her body did the opposite.

Roach was left tied to a tree, most likely asleep after the long ride. She didn't want to annoy Geralt, she had seen the Witcher angry, and she certainly didn't want that directed towards her in any sense of the word, however, curiosity was always a strong weakness that gnawed at her, like a second skin biting its way through into her muscles; so she ran.

She ran towards the noise, ignoring the small voice in her head which listed every possible consequence Geralt could give her — she stopped dead in her tracks when she thought of the possibility Geralt would leave her in the woods to fend for herself.

The woods were alive, and she certainly wouldn't be able to hunt for fish, or start a fire, or find enough money to pay for an inn every now and then, or for already caught food.

However, Geralt had sworn to protect her, surely he would not go against that promise. And over the year they had grown close, Geralt had filled that hole of loneliness which had been caused by losing all she had.

Though he was difficult to read, and often acted as though he needed no one in his life, hadn't heard of manners or subtlety, Ademia could be easily convinced into believing that Geralt cared for her, more so than the initial "I don't want you to die for my own purely selfish reasons" and perhaps going against his word wouldn't just make him angry but upset.

It didn't take long for Ademia to realise that the tales people tell of emotionless witchers were far from the truth, and the idea of upsetting him seemed to hurt her more than just going against his word.

But the monster roared once again, and banished any thought of Geralt from her mind with it, and her feet moved once again.

She wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting when she found herself on the bank of the swamp, but she wasn’t expecting the monster and Geralt to be fighting in front of her. They were both half-submerged in the dirty water; Geralts’ thighs skimmed the waterline as the monster — the Kikimore — attacked. It screeched every now and then when Geralt's blade nicked its flesh and it was impossible for her to tell who was actually winning the fight.

From her angle, she could see the monster in all its glory —the many legs protruding from the water with swells of muscles revealing the many different ways they were able to contort and attack, each one ending in a sharp spike which could most definitely slice a man open.

It’s body and head were almost entirely combined due to the lack of neck, and the body only really served to keep the legs together — its ears were pressed into its skull, with red, slit eyes and a row of teeth just as sharp as its legs, there wasn’t one part of the Kikimore that was for aesthetically reasons, every tiny addition to its body was purely for the benefit of killing.

Feeling entirely too exposed, Ademia pulled herself behind a tree, one which was beginning to die and wilt, perhaps due to what it was sharing its waters with. Geralt managed to deal a blow which knocked its head to the side with a roar, and although initially, Ademia took that as a victory, its eyes had landed on her, the tree much too thin to entirely cover her.

Geralt wasn’t able to see what had caught the Kikimores’ attention from his position, but he noticed his hesitance to turn back to his rival. He hit the monster once again in the face, hoping to snap him out of whatever he had seen. But that wasn’t enough, instead, it urged the creature towards her, and that was when Geralt noticed Ademia’s presence. He froze for a moment, just as she did the same, staring at the sharp teeth and claws that were barrelling towards her.

However, when Geralt yelled, yelled her name, she snapped back to the reality of the situation. She had the fighting skills against a human to win, but this was an entirely new creature, one with abilities she certainly wasn’t aware of. So she followed Geralt’s next, yelled word to the T, “Run,”

She spun around quickly, ignoring how she heard logs and the ground break and snap under the weight of the Kikimore. She didn’t dare turn around, knowing it would waste valuable time in which she needed to get away; besides she didn't need to look to know that Geralt chasing after also to stop it.

However, neither she nor he was fast enough as when Geralt dove towards it, it lept to her. It didn't manage to wrap its claws around her -- it was likely, if it had, it would have crushed her to death, but its claws caught her back, ripping into the skin and tugging her from her feet.

Her knees crumbled, and she felt herself fall face-first onto the wet floor, golden leaves creating a slight cushion against the brittle dirt below it.

She could hear metal and flesh breaking but her ears felt as though they were stuffed with cotton and she focused on her fist wrapping against the wet leaves beneath her than the blood seeping from her wound and wetting her skin and drenching her tunic.

She tried to ignore the pain which was beginning as a throb and turned slowly into a roar, spasming around her body, yet that still wasn't enough to give her energy to move.

Her mind lingered in the feelings around her enough for her to be distracted over the concept of time -- it could have been hours before she felt a familiar, rough hand on her shoulder, "Damn it Ademia -- why, why didn't-" Geralt cut himself off, very gently moving her head as to not strain her neck but to gain a view of her face, seeing her drooping eyes, "Just, stay awake whilst I clean this alright?"

If he was expecting an answer, he didn't push, instead scrunching up his cloak up and placing it under her head for extra support. She remained on her back, Geralt hoped gravity would help him in his attempt to stop her from bleeding out.

He had supplies, bandages and potions he had been keeping around for her, in case she tripped or grazed her knee, but his pack was much too far away for him to grab -- he couldn't leave her on the forest floor in such a state. His hands shook as he thought of the idea of her dying, right there, in front of him. When the thought entered his mind, he began to notice the sweat building on her forehead.... a forehead which was significantly more pale than before.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," He grumbled, noticing your eyes droop again as his mind worked much too slow for his liking -- an answer wasn't jumping to him, and the fact that his brain was murky with panic and booming voices telling him that it was his fault and he wasn't working fast enough certainly wasn't helping.

A neigh caught his attention and his headshot upward, seeing a familiar horse trotting towards him, with his pack still resting over the saddle.

He sighed in relief, turning back to Ademia and pushing his hands on the gashes, manually trying to stop the blood as the horse drew closer.

"Stay away, I'll fix you up quickly," He ordered, though he wasn't sure she was listening and the words were mainly for his benefit -- however he still got a nod.

Once Roach was in fingertips reach, Geralt grabbed onto his pack and dragged it down onto the floor. "Can..." He began as he pulled out the required tools, he didn't like how rough his voice sounded, how... scared it seemed, so he cleared his throat and tried again, "Can you speak to me?"

"About what?" It was a faint whisper, but it was enough to steady his hand enough to pull out the potion,

"What was going through your mind when you followed me?" Geralt questioned, trying to remove the venom which naturally laced itself into his voice,

"I--" She began, however, Geralt poured the potion onto the open wound and you groaned into the earth, punching the ground to try and distract from the pulsing pain the lotion had caused, “I wasn't thinking," She gritted out through teeth grinding together.

As Geralt hummed the pain began to shift, instead numbing the burning walls of the wound and she was lifted up gently, Geralt kept her up by holding her shoulders, quickly grabbing the bandages and beginning to wrap them underneath her shirt,

"You know I'm gonna expect a better answer later," Geralt questioned, still working with strong hands to twist the bandages against her skin tightly, but loose enough to not further aggravate the wound.

Ademia once again nodded, feeling her head begin to weigh more than her neck was able to carry, and it fell onto Geralt's shoulder "Later, please," She whispered, "I'm so tired. Can-- can I sleep?"

Geralt grabbed onto her shoulders once again, pulling her back but using his right arm to cradle her head, knowing the lethargic ties that wrapped tightly against her muscles. He studied her face, and shook his head, "Not just yet. Talk."

"Why, old man? You rarely do," She chuckled at her own joke before setting her head back down against his shoulder, "Whatcha want me to talk about?"

"Home,"

"You've never wanted to know before," Ademia quipped back, using the little energy she had to push herself closer to Geralt, allowing him to collect her onto his lap, keeping her head still on his shoulder.

"I have," He argued back, "You aren't the easiest talker yourself, especially when its a conversation you don't want to have,"

"Isn’t that everyone's attitude to conversations they don't want to have?" She responded with a dry chuckle, though it was followed by a cough and Geralt leaned forward, grabbing his flask.

Without the hands to unscrew it, he grabbed the cork by his teeth and popped it out before placing the rim against her lip and pouring the water into her throat as he spoke, "Stop changing the subject. I thought it would be a nice thing to get all of this," He removed the flask from her lips and placed the cork back inside, "from your mind,"

She hummed back, before speaking, "It was nice, large mountains, snowed half of the year. I loved that half of the year. But there was something special about golden leaves. They are beautiful, aren't they?"

She picked one up from the ground and placed it in front of Geralt's face and he hummed, picking it from her fingers. "And... and... when the leaves were like this, the streets would be lined with tables covered in food which we would all share, like a massive banquet. I always liked the pumpkin pie from the old lady just outside of town. I would hunt it down every year," She continued with a chuckle, this time a yawn stopping her words, "Can I sleep now?"

Geralt sighed, this time making his judgement without analysing her, "Let's get back to our campfire before then, alright? There's water there and we don't want you getting an infection on top of this,"

Once again, she nodded, feeling Geralt move underneath her as he stood and used the fingers of the hand holding her back up to grasp Roach's reins and guide all of them back.

The fire was merely embers once they had returned and Geralt placed Ademia beside it. He was very quick to startle the flames back to life, especially when he noticed the sky turning a navy blue. He then created a bed from blankets and each of their clocks, then their packs as pillows before placing her on the cluster,

"Now you can sleep," He whispered once she was securely in his arms and the heat of the fire washed over each of them.

[onlyivy]

Queue // Update

I have a Geralt and Ademia fic queued for tonight but after that I am fully open to requests, whether that be for those two characters or for the other ones listed on my masterlist

[onlyivy]

Misfortune to the Best // Spencer Reid Daughter

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Summary: Everything bad seems to happen to the best of people. Going to visit her father in a local police state was supposed to be a good deed for Lucia, but it ends rottenly.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: blood, gore, angst, hurt child -- Lucia is fifteen in this.

--

It had already been a long day, with fights between fake friends who dragged her into the middle of their row, to grades that were just slightly below what she had hoped to achieve. She just wanted to meet with her father and for them to walk home together to their apartment and eat pizza with Doctor Who, but when she stepped into the police station, she already knew that wasn't going to come to fruition.

It was a local case, thankfully, therefore her expected it to be solved rather quickly — she had no reason to believe this other than blind hope, therefore the bull pen was packed with people running around, paperwork stuffed against their chests, each on high alert as they snapped their heads up as she passed.

She ignored each of them until one became a familiar face — Derek Morgan, her father’s closest friend and one of her uncles in the Bureau. The man stared at her for a moment, stopping in his tracks, blinking before walking over to her, cutting through the people chasing around.

“Hey, Lucia, whatcha doing here?” He whispered, grabbing the back of her upper arm and guiding her up the stairs and towards the empty circle room.

They had only reached the top of the steps when Lucia answered, “Dad messaged me to come here after school,” She answered, and Derek jolted them to a stop, grabbing her other arm causing her to face him and attention to be undivided,

“What?” Derek’s prominent eyebrows dragged down, “Are you sure? Lucia, did you check over the ID?”

Her heart began to hammer as Derek stared down at her, “Yes, yes, of course, look,” She pulled out the phone finally and showed the text on the same chain of messages she shared with her father.

Derek read over the message quickly and the tight bands wrapped around his shoulders relaxed slightly — the words did sound like her father and it even ended with the ‘xoxo’ he had grown accustomed to using.

But still, this confused Derek, he glanced over his shoulder trying to find her father. He didn’t want to worry the girl but, from her view, he was doing a horrendous job at it. “What? Derek, what’s happened?”

Derek bit his lip as he finally turned back to the girl, “Hey, hey,” He whispered when he saw her frantic eyes, “You haven’t done anything wrong, don’t worry. Your dad lost his phone on the case today, so we’re gonna go find him just to make sure that he got it back and is expecting you,”

Still, she felt an ice coolness of fear. She allowed her uncle to guide her through the higher level until they reached one of the offices in which they had set up their little camp of notes and pictures, documents and whiteboards.

He lingered at the door, knocking his knuckles again the wooden door before announcing, “I got a child with me so turn over any scaring imagery or witness statements,” And Lucia only rolled her eyes, it was an announcement she had to make before entering a room since she was able to speak.

There were sounds of shuffling before Derek ushered her into the room. Only her father stood there, placing a folder down onto the table, back to the whiteboard blocking half of the windows, “Hey, sweetheart,” He called, raising his left arm and allowing her to slip underneath it and hug him from the side, “Rough day?”

“Not really,” She shrugged, glancing up at him with a soft smile, noticing the bags underneath his eyes more prominent, perhaps his nightmares were back, or it was the migraines. She heard a satisfactory click from behind her and was able to deduce that Derek had left the two of them.

Spencer scrunched his brow before pulling two chairs out from underneath the desk and placing Lucia on one and perching on the other. “Don’t take this the wrong way but, what are you doing here then? Wouldn’t you rather be home rather than in this boring place?” He smiled softly. He knew that certainly wouldn’t be his mindset if he was her age, but he had grown to accept that he and she were different and he was desperately trying to show that understanding.

However, he chuckled when she rolled her eyes, “This isn’t boring, neither of us believes that,” His chuckle grew but he died it down when he realised he didn’t get an answer to his question, “You text me,” She answered, this time chuckling awkwardly, “Telling me to come here instead of home,” Her rambles continued when her father continued to look confused, “I can show-“

However, Spencer placed his hand over hers and pulled her up, face whiter than normal, something people often joked wasn’t possible. “Baby,” He whispered, “That wasn’t me. I lost my phone at someone’s house who we were interviewing.”

She felt her hands grow sweaty as her father stared down at her, the gravity of the situation falling on her like a truck on her shoulders. “Listen to me, listen really carefully okay. We’re going to go to my desk, pretend that nothing is wrong, grab my briefcase and then we leave, okay? Just keep smiling and talking to me,”

Still, none of this did anything to help her nerves as her father grabbed the door handle with one hand and the other wrapped around hers, noting sadly that there was a tremor in her hands. “It’s okay,” He whispered again like a broken record, to the point where Lucia began to wonder if it truly was to calm herself or for him — that message had been sent to her, she was the Unsub’s new target, and Unsubs like him very rarely changed their targets when doing that much research into them.

“Take a deep breath,” He continued and the both of them puffed out their chests, breathing deeply through their noses before slowly releasing it, their body’s unconsciously relaxing.

“Okay,” Lucia whispered back and nodded to her father before he opened the door, and the constant tense chatter of the busy workers encased them. She waited until her father walked out before following, staying back slightly so that their connected hands remained behind Spencer the whole time.

She murmured words of her day, only able of a certain volume when a large boulder began to form in her throat — Spencer hummed, laughed every now and then whenever the words were remotely funny. It felt like a small breath of fresh air when they stood by Spencer’s desk and he removed his hand from hers for a moment to grab his case from beside his desk chair.

He went to turn back to Lucia, to grab her and practically run her home where he could lock the doors and keep Lucia safe — the Unsub was yet to break in to someone’s apartment. However, before his plan could even play out, JJ called his name, stopping him, “You heading home so soon? The Unsub —“

“Yeah, sorry, emergency,” Spencer tried to break off the conversation politely. Under any other normal circumstances, his mind would have worked rationally, keeping her with the other FBI detectives, the armed FBI detectives, and have Penelope track the message, where it had been sent; but his brain was only focused on keeping her safe, and to do that was to take her away from public settings where the Unsub could snatch her away like he had with his other victims.

“Is everything okay?” JJ asked once again, concerned eyes glancing between the two of them, noticing Spencer’s fidgeting and Lucia staring at the floor, unblinking,

“Yes, yes,” Spencer waved her off,

JJ still didn’t want to let it go, but something just behind the small cluster and she nodded towards it, “Looks like they found him,” Spencer didn’t even know they had put a name to suspect, perhaps Morgan had realised that Spencer left his phone there but sure enough when the two of them turned around, the man he had interviewed, who apparently had a viable alibi.

He wished his brain had worked quicker, or perhaps it was his body reactions that had let him down as before he could yell at Hotch and Derek who were escorting him that there was something suspicious going on, including the strange, metallic clump resting just inside his sleeve, the man was pulling it from its hiding place and holding it into the light.

A gun. A gun directly pointed at Lucia. A gun directly pointed at his child. A gun which had been fired before Hotches’.

Lucia was falling before the pain had registered, her body falling against her fathers, expecting him to keep her up. Two arms wrapped around her but she still fell downwards, her father sandwiched between her and the floor, back against his desk,

The two stared down at her stomach in shock, neither being able to hear the commission around the Unsub who Morgan and Hotch had jumped on to tackle him and take him away.

Spencer forced himself to snap out of it first, especially when JJ didn't kneel down, instead calling for an ambulance. He moved his shaking hands over the wound, ignoring how the exposed flesh clenched and oozed under his skin.

"Hey, hey," He called into her ear, unable to fully see her face, only able to see her eyes partly open, "Keep them open, you know the procedure,"

"It-" She began, but her voice was ripped from her. She wet her lips before trying to speak again, "It doesn't hurt,"

Spencer nodded, pressing a firm kiss to the back of her head, "That's the shock sweetheart." He didn’t want to speak in fear of saying the wrong thing and scaring her, but there was also so much he wanted to say, stuff his brain was telling him he might not get to say again. “JJ,” Spencer yelled when he didn’t get an answer from his daughter,

“They are on their way,” The woman promised as Hotch and Morgan approached also.

“Reid, move your hands,” Hotch ordered sternly, ignoring the harsh glare he got from the father, “Your hands are shaking too much to actually do anything helpful,” He elaborated bravely.

Spencer looked down, ignoring how droopy Lucia’s eyes had gotten, to his hands, which weren’t pressing down on the bloody wound anymore, but rather delicately on top of it, but he couldn’t seem to move the limbs. He allowed Morgan to remove his hands and place them in Lucia’s weak ones. Even though she was the one bleeding out, she still found strength to wrap her fingers around him — he wanted to shout, to scream, to cry, to warn her that in doing so she would stain her skin pink, pink with her own blood.

“Keep her awake,” Hotch continued to pipe orders which Spencer was just able to hear, the shock for him had worn off, which had been the only thing keeping his mind clear,

“Uh, um.” Spencer began, fear piercing him anew when he noticed her eyes drooping and he wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t get any other word out before her entire world went black.

Spencer hated hospitals, every single member of the BAU new that, and l, everyone who had ever waited on a loved one knew that to. It wasn’t that he was trying to be invasive and annoy others who could be just as worried as himself, nor was he trying to annoy the hospital staff who were probably tired, overworked and trying to help his daughter along with many other patients — really it was his bizarre coping mechanism, focusing on the harsh smell and the strange lighting which hurt his eyes rather than analysing which room Lucia would be in, how far into surgery they would be and wether they had gone over that time.

His team mates didn’t bother to control his rants as he sat in the uncomfortable blue chair, only sending him comforting smiles, smiles which twisted his gut as they told him of the pity they felt, like she was already dead. His brain wouldn’t switch off from analysing; hoping how the doctor’s blinked would give away the state of his daughter as she approached.

“Mr Reid,” She called to the waiting room and Reid jumped to his feet, storming over,

“It’s Doctor,” He answered small, like it was a knee jerk reaction, a one which brought him a strange amount of comforting, “Doctor Reid,”

The doctor’s eyes softened as she nodded, “Doctor Reid. The operation was successful and your daughter has been stabilised. We are going to monitor her for the week in case of infection and then she can go home, we’ll talk more about that closer to the time but right now, I think she wants to see her dad,”

“She’s awake?” He questioned, cringing at the slight shriek his voice was reflective of,

The Doctor nodded for him for follow her as she responded, “Any minute now,” Spencer glanced over his shoulder at his friends, his family, nodding his thanks before following after the doctor, nipping at her heels.

He kept his eyes forward, refusing to look at the rooms that they passed, the names of the wards which their walked through, including the one which they were heading towards — he didn’t want his brain to jump to conclusions that frighten him; he kept the words of the doctor repeating in his mind, she was okay, she would be fine.

He didn’t know he had stocked his breath in until she stopped outside a door and swiped her card, all that trapped oxygen removed itself through his nose. When the door clicked open, the doctor turned to him, giving him one final warning, “One final thing, right now, she will look much worse than she is, so please prepare yourself,”

The woman didn’t know what Doctor Spencer Reid saw every day, therefore when he was told to prepare himself, he expected the coldness of flesh from the life leaving it, the shocked fear in their glazed eyes and blood matting in their hair and staining their skin — but Lucia didn’t look like any of those bodies. Sure her face was pale, and her limbs much too neat for her to just be napping, but the constant beeping of her heart monitor told him for certain that she wasn’t dead.

When he stepped inside the room, he quickly spun around to the doctor, “She — she gets really hot when she sleeps, ever since she was a child, do you think i could open the window?”

The doctor pursed her lips before commenting slowly, “She’ll awake up soon, then she can tell you for certain,”

Spencer nodded, deep down he knew that there was logic behind her words, yet when he turned around, he still pouted, he was her father, he knew what was best for her. There was another click and the door shut.

Quietly, Spencer pulled up a chair and placed it on the side of Lucia’s bed. Her arms were exposed, as though encouraging him to hold her hand — Spencer justified it as Doctors Orders. He waited, patiently, in silence, staring at his daughter, waiting for any other traces of life.

Finally, finally, just when he was beginning to panic, Lucia scrunched her brow, a tiny groan leaving her lips before her face relaxed and eyes peeled open. “Dad,” She croaked,

“Hey, you.” He whispered back, “You need some water?” She shook her head, now more focused on scanning the room, eyebrows scrunching again. “You were shot, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. But that is never going to happen again, I am never going to let you get hurt. I’m just sorry I wasn’t quick enough this time.”

[onlyivy]

psa for content creators

if you tag your gifs/moodboards/any original post with “mine” or “my stuff” your posts won’t show up in any tags on the ios app

you can read more about the issue here: (x)

[onlyivy]

Serendipity Part Two// Geralt Of Rivia

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Summary: Ademia is running through the forest when she stumbles across a strange figure tending to his horse. Fate seemed to have pulled them together in the form of a metal coin.

Word Count; 1.9k

Warnings; lots of mystery surrounding Ademia as it is technically a part of my story on Wattpad yet to be published (Ademia is 15).

Part One

--

The two walked for five days, neither here nor there and Ademia was convinced that she would never be able to retrace her steps if asked. Though Geralt owned Roach, he didn't ride upon her for the five days and five nights -- instead joining her on foot.

On the sixth night, they slept in an inn, in preparation for Geralt to fight the monster cursing the town - though Ademia believed it might also have been because of the strong storm coming in, one that she wasn't sure she had the supplies to sleep through, clearly, Geralt shared her same worries.

In the morning, Geralt still hadn't returned. She had packed up her belongings back into her kit, bed made fresh and yet Geralt never knocked on the still locked door. She was growing agitated, wondering if he would actually return, but his clothes still remained in the room.

To busy herself, she packed those away also, yet there was still no sign of the witcher. She sat on the edge of the bed, boot-clad feet bouncing on the wooden floor, likely annoying whoever was beneath their room, likely the people just behind the bar.

Her teeth found themselves nibbling on the inside of her lip until a dull heat blew the skin and it began to taste metallic. She had been fine without him before, therefore why was she worrying. Yet, her definition of fine likely strayed from a sain persons'.

Just as she was about to get up from the bed and check for Roach at the front of the inn, the wooden door knocked. "Ademia," Though Ademia had only been in his company for a week, Geralt's voice was unmistakable, "It's Geralt," She had noticed his voice was always gruff, but this time it seemed to be squeezed out, as though his lungs couldn't keep in enough oxygen to supply his muscles and speak.

She jumped to her feet and opened the door, fingers working skillfully on the locks to pop them clear in record speed. Sure enough, standing in his mud-caked armour, was Geralt. His usually straw-like hair was clumped together with shit and waterlogged dirt. The muck spread onto his cheeks and his eyes told her that he was in desperate need of a bath and sleep.

His sword was holstered once again, and in one had was a sack of coins, the other, a large white fur scarf -- one that certainly wouldn't fit him. The gash on his chest just above those items, a claw ripped through the armour and turned his skin bloody.

Quickly, she jumped out of the way, allowing him into the room. He made a beeline for the bed before dropping both items onto the sheets. "Where -- where were you? Are you alright?" She asked almost hesitantly whilst Geralt worked in silence,

"I got knocked out, fine now," He answered shortly, not even bothering to glance over his shoulders to look at her. Once his sword was also on the bed, he turned around, "That is for you," He nodded to the fur, "The air is getting colder, you will need it,"

Ademia nodded her thanks, but that wasn't her main thought, instead, her eyes lingered on the wound, "Are you alright?" She asked again, nodding to the wound,

Geralt scrunched his brow, glancing down at the wound before humming. He walked to his pack before pulling out a little bottle of white water. She watched eagerly as he poured it onto the wound, both of them wincing at the sizzle that followed.

He ripped a rectangle of cloth from one of his clothes and wrapped it around the wound awkwardly as he still kept his tunic on. Instead of being caught watching him, she turned to the fur cloth, stroking it with her thumb, the soft bristles bending easily underneath her skin. "Thank you," She whispered, but she knew the Witcher would hear her. "Perhaps you should bathe." She tried to speak softly, knowing that her words could be taken negatively,

Geralt hummed as she turned back to face him, he sniffed the air before raising a brow, "I do smell like shit," causing her body to relax and a small smile to break on her face. "Pay the innkeeper whilst I do, half that sack should be enough to pay it," He pointed lazily to the pouch before grabbing the bucket which lay in the empty tub.

She nodded shortly before grabbing it and her pack and left the room. down the stairs, was empty. Just the innkeepers' wife behind the bar, wiping away the glasses ready for when the first drunk stumbled in. She barely registered Ademia as she walked up, instead, the young girl cleared her throat, "Can I pay off room 2's tab?"

She only got a grunt in return, the woman went to the book, read over a couple of lines before barking out a price, the currency was foreign to her, but she followed Geralt's orders, handing over half the coins in the bag which seemed to be sufficient.

When the woman walked into the back, Ademia deemed it appropriate to leave -- the blistering wind hit her before she even stepped foot outside. She dropped her bag in the doorway and wrapped the fur around her, surprised at how insulated it truly was. Geralt knew what he was doing.

The brown coat which belonged to Roach was unmistakable to her now, just like Geralt's voice, it was truly recognizable. She sauntered over to the horse, tied just on the other side of the path to the inn. Ademia patted the horse, feeling its strong muscles beneath her hand before placing her pack opposite to where Geralt's should be held.

When she was certain that her limited belongings were secure she walked around to Roach's head, pulling out a handful of peppermints from her pocket and offering it to the horse, who took them gratefully -- sure it may seem that she was bribing the horse... but that would be a silly motion, suggesting that she believed horses were capable of taking bribes, but she did always have a soft spot for the animal.

Once the mare had finished, she nudged her head into Ademias' chest as a thank you. "What have you done to her?" Geralt's voice questioned from behind her and the girl spun around, blinking worriedly,

"What do you mean?" Shee asked quickly, confused and worried about what he was accusing her of.

"Roach doesn't trust easy." He nodded to his horse and Ademia relaxed. He then noticed her hand resting beneath the horse's mouth and hummed, "apparently the way to her heart is through her stomach."

"No. It's through the fourth and fifth rib -- at least a human's is, not sure if its the same for an animal," She muttered the last part to herself, tilting her head at the horse and ignoring how Geralt cocked his head and glanced at her,

"Speaking of which -- you need to learn to fight," Ademia raised her brow however Geralt quickly added, "You won't be joining me... out there. But if something is to happen, then I need to be confident that nothing will happen to you."

Ademia nodded, walking back towards Geralt, "Well then, I can save you the trouble, you don't need to teach me anything," She commented shortly before placing her foot through the stirrup and swinging onto the saddle,

"Is that so?"

Geralt guided them to a clearing in the woods just a few towns over from the village they had stayed in -- she wasn't sure whether it was chance or that he remembered it from some time ago, both seemed incredibly likely.

He stood at one end of the clearing, wooden stick in hand. He had become grumpy when he realised he wasn't in possession of wooden swords, bitterly saying that he'd have to make do with the sticks.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd suggest you were making excuses in case you lost," Ademia smiled, though there wasn't anything nasty about it -- rather that she was teasing, finally fully comfortable with a pretend sword in her hand.

Geralt smirked, something told her that he was glad she was loosening up a little, "Never," the word seemed to startle Ademia, often it would be a quip about her age or gender or height.

The Witcher tried to use that to his advantage, lunging forward but Ademia was still able to dodge to her right -- her instructor told her never to deal the first blow, that you could tell a lot from a persons' first stance.

Geralt's was seemingly perfect, until she noticed his foot slightly turned, an easy weakness for her to exploit but it was easy -- much too easy to defeat a Witcher. As he lunged his stick and she finally crossed it with hers, both bending slightly, not made for this purpose, "Stop trying to let me win," She spoke strongly, refusing the urge to growl at him.

Geralt scrunched his brows, glancing down before correcting his feet, "I'm not," He swiped towards her once again and she stepped back to dodge, allowing him to approach her, playing defence -- but witchers didn't slow in low energy so she'd have to act soon regardless.

And when she saw her opening, she took it. Just as he raised his sword again for another blow, she slipped past him, running slightly to his left and titled her back, shielding her from the stick in case his reactions were faster than she anticipated.

Just before she passed him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and swung fully around him, disjointing his balance and causing him to tumble to the ground -- within that short time she was able to use him to swing back to her original position and kicked off of him, landing just a few meters away from him on two feet -- Geralt laying on the frozen grass ground.

"You're injured and tired, don't worry. I know you'd bet me otherwise."

"Oh no, please don't feed his ego more. Take the win and use it to gloat, if you won't I will,"  A man from just in front of the curtain of trees called -- wearing a red jacket with matching trousers and a lute resting over his back,

"Fuck," Geralt growled before getting up from the ground and turning to the man, "Jaskier," He greeted.

The man, Jasiker, smiled and he walked towards them, "Whose this?" He asked, nodding to Ademia with a smile, "Are you stealing children again?" He faux pouted, resting his hands on his hips.

From his joking and the fact Geralt only rolled his eyes, Ademia could only assume that they were friends, otherwise, she would have to take his words for truth and wonder what kind of company she's keeping, what kind of company her mother told her to seek.

Geralt glared at him and Jaskier only rolled his eyes and turned to her, "Very well. Julian Alfred -"

"Ademia. Her name is Ademia Aetos." Geralt interrupted him, not allowing her to answer, instead, she had to watch, back and forth.

Jaskier's eyes widened as he glanced around their settings before gasping, "Is she one of the girls? The woody foresty... girls?"

Geralt still glared at the man, but he dropped his gaze when he got to his feet, "Yes,"

"No the Child Surprise?"

"No," This time Ademia answered, frustrated with the male speaking for her,

"Then... just..." Jaskier began but he wasn't sure what he was questioning, "Right." He shook off what was confusing them all, "I have heard tales of a job for you, Geralt. Good money, now come along,"

Geralt glanced at Ademia then the retreating bard, waiting for her to nod before the two set off.

[onlyivy]

Serendipity // Geralt Of Rivia

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Summary: Ademia is running through the forest when she stumbles across a strange figure tending to his horse. Fate seemed to have pulled them together in the form of a metal coin.

Word Count; 1.1k

Warnings; lots of mystery surrounding Ademia as it is technically a part of my story on Wattpad yet to be published.

Part Two

--

She didn't expect them to find her so soon. She hadn't used her birth name when boarding the ship -- even the ship was merely a fishing boat which only contained her, the captain and three barrels of gish.

The first glance of them was in the market -- they had grey hoods over their head, concealing their identity, though she could see their eyes -- scanning and searching for her. She didn't hand around, she didn't risk spending the final night she paid for with the last of her money in the only inn on the harbour town.

She flung herself effortfully into the thick woods which lined the second half of the tow, though the soles of her feet weren't accommodating to the new terrain, she pushed forward. Though she wasn't sure they were following her, she still ran with such ferocity that she tripped over three logs but still managed to push herself up each time.

The bottom of her lungs burned, the exhaust fire beginning to build and block her respiratory system. The heels of her shoes became drenched when she suddenly stopped. She was in a little stream. Rocks were stopping her feet from being entirely flat against the ground and the icy water was easily passing through her shoes and the temperature easily passed into her blood.

She pushed her entire body, fighting back her natural urge to breath in order to listen -- listen to the small amount of noise coming from the water rushing under her feet and through the meandering path of the stream. Nothing else

On the other side of the stream was a small road, only a few paces in front of her. Perhaps in the morning, she could try to reclaim her items if the innkeeper hadn't burnt them already.

She sighed, possibly too loudly as she stepped out of the river, she heard a response. A grunt. A man -- large in stature-- sat in front of a tiny fire, almost impossible to miss. His entire frame was thickly wrapped in an armour-like material, sword resting on his back, piercing yellow eyes staring straight at her.

"Um... hello," She called awkwardly, throat too dry to talk much more without a break. When she didn't get an immediate response, she began walking to the road.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," The man called just before her foot could touch the even ground,

"Pardon?" She turned around, scrunching her brow and stepping towards the little camp he had made. That was when she realised the natural light was beginning to dwindle.

"That road back into town will get you killed before you make it there," The strange man commented in his rough voice.

"I can look after myself," She replied tightly,

The man raised a brow and a small smirk stretched on his lips, "Sure,"

She began to step onto the road once more, however, his words echoed in her head, "How would you get back then?"

"I wouldn't go back if I was being chased... why are you being chased?"

She didn't question how he knew, it was likely due to the state she presented herself in, "I stole some bread,"

The man hummed before his eyes fell to each of her hands, "Where is the bread?"

"I dropped it," Once again, the man hummed. She shook off the strange encounter and began to walk away, this time towards the stream again,

"If you are a thief... why are you returning? If they chased you so far out , they must be angry,"

"I have my stuff at the inn,"

"Which one?" He questioned, however, his words were followed with a wince... she assumed the loner in the woods wasn't familiar with a lengthy conversation.

"The Dirty Duck," She responded without hesitation -- what more harm or misfortune could she possibly go through.

"And you've paid for tonight?" She nodded stiffly, "Sleep here tonight, and I'll walk into town and collect your stuff," He ordered gruffly,

She raised a brow, "I don't know you," She pointed out, "You could kill me in my sleep... or worse,"

The man rolled his eyes, "Geralt of Rivia,"

"What?"

"That's my name. Yours?"

She hesitated, biting on her lip to keep the words from slipping from her, "Names are powerful things,"

"I was told, long ago, I would meet two girls in the woods... that they would be my destiny." Geralt steered the conversation away, though he had raised a brow before speaking, a somewhat proud smile resting on her lips, "Has anyone labelled you with a destiny yet?"

She nodded slowly, "A wolf... a white wolf in the woods," She found herself reaching up to the pendant around her neck.

Geralt remained stoic as she showed him the pendant, the familiar wolf seal etched into the metal, "Where did you get that?"

"My parents... when they told me about the white wolf, about the ballads that had made their way overseas."

"Fucking Jaskier," Getal muttered,

"Pardon?"

"Nevermind," He fished between his tunic and revealed a similar pendant. He held it up to her and she gasped lightly, noticing the same design on the coin of metal, "So are you going to follow my plan then?"

She paused for a moment before nodding, seating herself on the opposite side of the fire, "Did you know my parents?" She asked hesitantly, "Nefeli and Alexandros Aetos?"

Geralt thought for a moment, his eyes glazing over before he blinked, "Not directly. May have been friends of acquaintances," She only nodded

"Ademia," She whispered, "My name is Ademia," What did she have to lose in trusting a stranger? Her life didn't weigh much in the balance of the world anymore.

Ademia had fallen asleep against a tree with very little to keep her warm, but when her eyes peeled open she realised that a second cloak was placed over her frame. Geralt was comforting his horse, fire burnt out and most of his belongings packed away, hers' added to his cluster already.

"Why did you trust me enough to fall asleep?" Geralt questioned not waiting for her to fully wake up and remove the grogginess from her limbs before questioning her.

She blinked, unable to form anything for a moment -- not until she stood up, stretching her back outwards and folding her cloak and his, "Because," she shrugged, handing his bundle back to him -- noticing him waiting for her to continue, "I wasn't because I trusted you -- I just don't care,"

"You don't care?" He echoed her words questioningly,

She shrugged, patting the horses' hair, "Say I had misjudged you, and you killed me-- it wouldn't matter. No one would come looking, and frankly, I would have to stop running,"

"For stealing a loft of bread?" Geralt questioned ignoring the shocking aspect of her statement,

Ademia tutted through her teeth, "Expensive load of bread, I guess,"

[onlyivy]

Main Masterlist

Jensen Ackles

Follow Your Own Path -- The Ackles family want to adopt a teen into their home, to give them a better chance towards the future and a family. They choose a girl that has given up with the concept of unconditional love. //Part One (COMING SOON)

Geralt Of Rivia (The Witcher)

(Ademia OC)

Serendipity - Ademia is running through the forest when she stumbles across a strange figure tending to his horse. Fate seemed to have pulled them together in the form of a metal coin //Part Two

Blood and Water - Geralt always had strict rules for Ademia when she was out on a hunt, one day, after a year of travelling with Geralt, she finally fully understands why.

Spender Reid (Criminal Minds)

(Lucia OC)

Misfortune to the Best -- Everything bad seems to happen to the best of people. Going to visit her father in a local police state was supposed to be a good deed for Lucia, but it ends rottenly.

Sebastian Stan

(Coming Soon, Send in Requests)

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

(Coming Soon, Send in Requests)

Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders)

(Isabella OC)

(Coming Soon, Send in Requests)

Shelby Sister (Peaky Blinders)

(Chloe OC)

This Living Hand -- Chloe Shelby shared many qualities with her older brothers, unfortunately, that included getting herself into deep trouble to save her nephew. (COMING SOON)