#( ask; geralt / hmm. )

[qserasera]

just musing on why competent / hypercompetent protagonist characters seem so hard to write in fiction and why

(characters i feel like i can classify within this category: most characters in fma, mei changsu from nif, minglan from story of minglan, geralt from the witcher, most of terry pratchett's protagonists)

[ruinedbycatastrophe]

“ i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that... i hope you’re in it. “ (for Geralt)

sacred romantic moments // accepting! @okruchlodu

He's hated destiny for so long. Everything in his life since the day he was left on the Witcher's doorstep has been destiny. Its had it's claws in every part of his long, sorry life, ripping and tearing along the way. Geralt has been through so much, seen too much and his mind is so jaded, too cloudy with the what ifs and horrors of war by humans and their greed. But destiny also gave him her. Her long dark curls, her lips, her violet hues. She's crawling into his chest, into his heart. It beats so slow, but even it skips a beat seeing her. "I want you too. Always." He replies, softly. As if it were a prayer to Gods he doesn't believe in. A prayer that Yennefer would stay. That she would never leave. It aches. She will always leave him with an ache until he sees her again.

[notyetneedcoffee]

Stretch

Kinktober - Size Kink NSFW - Adults Only

Summary - The Witcher is just so big.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” You smiled up at the Witcher. “Particularly tonight.”

“Hmm.” He rumbled, though you noted his golden eyes kept darting down to you.

Standing close to him and wearing stays that held your breasts high, gave him a particularly enticing view. You knew how to take advantage of your small stature when it came to men. This man, however, was always a challenge.

People milled around the hall dressed in their finest. A large fire blazed in the hearth and musicians played. No one danced. This gathering was not that kind of celebration.

Some people considered the Trades Celebration archaic. The villages in these mountains, being isolated and small, would gather once every ten years. Some of the men and women would bed others from other villages to diversify the bloodlines of each isolated area. As the main objective of the celebration was pregnancy, a famously sterile Witcher seemed decidedly out of place.

“I could say the same for you.” Geralt finally said. “I would not have expected you to be anxious to become a mother.”

“I’m not.” You leaned a little closer to him to speak conspiratorially. “But there are great business contacts to be made here.”

He nodded. You were a herbologist. He often sought you out for rare and valuable ingredients.

“What brought you here?”

“Bruxa.” Geralt frowned. “After I cleared them out, I was offered a place to stay for a time and asked to attend tonight by Marthox.”

You grinned, glancing at the rich village elder and his four daughters. “Do you think he’s ignorant to the fact that you are unable to pass on your magnificent genes?”

“Probably.” He took a long drink from his glass.

“Do you plan to deflower one – or all – of his willing daughters anyway?”

“No.” He leaned down to your ear. The top of your head only came to his shoulder. “I’m more interested in something a little more feisty.”

“Then why are we wasting time here?” You grinned.

Geralt just turned and marched out of the hall. You had to jog to keep up with him. As soon as you turned the corner into a dark hallway, the Witcher paused. He swept you up and tossed you over one shoulder.

You swallowed a squeak, grabbing the back of his jacket out of fear of the height. “Geralt!”

“You were moving too slow.” He chuckled.

His room boasted its own large fireplace, stone bathing tub, and soft bed. You bounced in the middle of the mattress when he tossed you down. Geralt grabbed your foot to unlace your shoes. Laying there, looking at your foot in his large hands, feeling his strong fingers rub into the arch of your foot, lit the fire in your belly.

Geralt placed a knee on the bed and leaned over you. His white hair fell forward and you could smell the mead upon his breath. “It’s good to see you, little one.”

You touched his face, running your fingers over his high cheek bones and strong jaw. When you skimmed the soft skin of his lips, he lowered his head and kissed you. Your tongue eagerly reached for his as the kiss grew rough.

Geralt broke away with a satisfied noise. He gathered your skirts in his hands, lifting them to your waist. Your legs instinctively fell open for him as his rough hands slid along your thighs. As his thick finger teased your opening, rubbed around your clitoris, awakening your arousal, you laid your head back and studied his looming form.

You adored the time spent with the Witcher in bed. You felt tiny, delicate, and feminine under his touch. He exuded power. His strength could take your breath away, but you never feared he would hurt you. His wide chest engulfed you. His thick thighs pushed your legs so far apart.

Geralt’s head lowered between your legs, tasting your sex, licking and sucking at your clit. Fire circled through your body. You needed more. Pulling at the laces of your bodice, you desperately fought to free yourself from your clothes. Geralt manhandled you around, tugging at skirts and throwing away underclothes. Once naked, he again buried his face in your cunt with a determined growl.

You pulled at his white hair, shaking as his grumble vibrated through your clitoris. Two thick fingers slipped through your wetness, spreading your slick, pumping against sensitive flesh, and stretching you. Deep moans poured from your mouth as your hips rocked into his face.

Geralt rose to his knees, rubbing at your clit and fingers pumping wetly in your cunt. Your back arched as the coiling tension threatened to snap. The corner of his lip curled up. His gravel deep voice poured over you like warm honey. “That’s it, little one. Come all over my hand and I’ll stretch this pretty little pussy over my cock.”

You shook, cunt clenching at his fingers, wetness flooding over his hands.

As you lay there feeling your thighs quiver, Geralt stripped off his clothes. He did so with efficiency and no attempt at seduction, still the flex of his muscles and sight of his hard flesh caused the fire to flared hotter.

Geralt crawl over the top of you, mouth covering your breast and sucking your nipple to a hard peak. His kisses trailed up your neck, teeth grazing your skin. Kissing you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue, he pushed your legs further apart with his knees.

You felt the wide head of his cock rub along your entrance. With immense control, he pushed in. The stretch bordered on pain, but under assault of his kiss, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex, your body rocked up against him to invite him deeper. Rocking slowly, each thrust pushing him further, filling you. Heat burned down your chest to settle between your legs.

He sat back on his heels, pulling your body along with him. You cried out at the change of angle, his cock hitting just the right spot. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Memorized you watched Geralt allow a drop of spittle to fall up on your clit. His thumb circled and stroked as he fucked into you harder.  

You moaned, back arching and hands clutching at the sheets.

“Fuck,” He growled. “Fuck, yes.”

You shook in his grip.

“Mmm.” Geralt’s hips moved faster, harder. “Again. Fuck. Come again.”

You squeezed your own tits. Geralt moaned. Your thighs quivered. You panted, breath escaping with each thrust. “Oh, gods!”

His fingers dug into your hips. He lifted your pelvis to meet each powerful thrust. Fucking you hard. You felt like you were being blissfully split into two. He growled. “I said fucking come for me.”

“Yes!” You snapped, shaking hard, whiting out.

Faster, rougher, and soon Geralt roared his own release.

He flopped back on the bed, pulling you along with him. You lay spread across his chest, a sated and boneless mass. No part of you touched the bed. You floated on a warm island of Geralt muscle. You rubbed your nose into the hair on his chest, breathing in his scent.

“Hmmm.” He sighed, one big hand coming up to rest on your ass. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You mumbled with a smile. “But I can’t feel my feet.”

“I’ll carry you if I need to.” The smile could be heard in his voice. “Cause I’m not through with you yet, little one.”

Want more? Check out my Master List.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Depths 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: fisherman!Geralt of Rivia x artist!reader

Summary: your sleepy existence is thrown into chaos by a mysterious man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The water crashes onto the coast. The sound is dulled by the distance of your perch. The sky melds into the lake's surface as the sun hides behind a swathe of clouds.

You lean in to squint at the strokes on the canvas, sweeping your brush in repetition of the rippled horizon. You use the wnd of the brush to scratch your cheek.

Almost...

You peek above the easel and watch the small speck growing larger as it moves across the water. The fishing boat is there so often that you've added its silhouette to the acrylic tides. A stalwart to your early mornings and listless afternoons.

Day after day is layered before you in shades of cerulean, slate, and lavender. The grey sky with a tinge of golden sunlight, the waters stirring in sparkling shades of aquamarine and pearl, the coast rippled in fawn and umber. Another eye might see it and deem it finished but not you.

You step back to let the paint dry and rinse your brushes in the jar. Hmm. You're out of clean water.

You close up the easel and hook the canvas on the backside, carrying it like a briefcase as you pick up your canvas bag with your roll of brushes and pots of paint, your palette around your index finger.

You make a slow descent down the cliffside and curl around towards the shore. You veer away from the dock and head down into the silt. You put your stuff on a flat rock. You take the used brushes and palette to rinse in the shallows.

The water laps over your sandals as you linger in the soothing cool foam. The approach of evening skews the water with emerald and jade. You shake it all off and step back to dry it with a paint-blotted cloth.

You rearrange the bag so it all fits and hook it over your shoulder. You look down at the your linen apron. You can recall where every splotch and streak came from.

You take your easel and canvas and head back up along the dock. As you reach the post, the fishing boat knocks against the other end. You peer over at the man that lays a board across the spanse between.

You see him every night. You couldn't forget a man with snow white hair and golden eyes. His age is less than his locks might suggest and his eyes seem to look through you, not at you.

You smile, like you do every night. He doesn't react. Just like every other time.

The smell of fish wafts in the boat as he drags his net across the wooden ramp. You turn and press on. He's much to busy for you. It doesn't bother you. You came out here to get away from people.

Your feet leave divets in the dirt as the rock of the boat knocks in a rhythm against the dock. The man's toil adds to thunks and thuds and they fade behind you. The peace here is immaculate, you wouldn't want to ruin it for anyone else.

Past the seaside houses left vacant in the colder seasons and the smaller basins of the lake, between the rocky ridges and grassy knolls, you return to your little house.The cornflower paint chips from the wooden siding and the stairs are worn in the middle from the tramp of feet. A bench stands on the other side of the white railing between a plinthed flowerpot and folding table with a book forgotten on its slats. Home.

The spindly wreath on the front door rattles as you push through and the screen door snaps behind you. The evening breezs drifts in through the mesh as you set your easel down and rest the canvas on crate just beside the mat. You put your bag in front of the wooden stand and bask in the calm.

You hang your wicker hat and untie your apron. Your hands are covered in paint. You'll wash them before you eat. You leave your wet sandals at the door.

You pull out the pot of chowder you made two nights past from the fridge. You put it over a burner and wait for it to warm. The fare lasts you near a week when you take the time to put it together. Every ingredient must be used to its last, especially when it is so far to market. And expensive.

You scoop out a bowl and eat it on the front porch. Your eyes are too tired to read. When you finish, you recline on the bench and yawn. You lay in the dimming hue of the evening as the stars wink down at you.

A whistle carries on the wind. You sit up and look for the culprit. They are close enough to hear but that could still be far. It could even be a bird.

You take the empty bowl inside and rinse it. You retreat to the bedroom and change

You open the window to let the night in. Around here, you can do that. Not like the city and its grated windows.

You laze in the dusk shade and drift slowly into yourself. Sleep enshrines you atop the cushy bed, the water stirring from afar, the loons calling into the dark. Tomorrow you'll figure out the exact right colour for the undertow.

You're more than due to sell a new piece. You need to if you want to stay in paradise.

[joelslegalwhre]

Thank you sm! And thanks for the request love, i hope you like it <3

Destiny

pairing⁀➷ geralt of rivia x fem!reader

word count⁀➷ 1.5k

summary⁀➷ Geralt finds you injured in the woods (more in the ask)

warnings⁀➷ soft!geralt, fluff, mention of blood and injuries, swearing (only once tho), use of y/n once

a/n⁀➷ As always, tell me if I missed a warning please!

🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷

You had expected this day to be different. You were supposed to help your uncle and learn more about herbology so that one day, you would know as much as he does about taking care of the people in the village.

Not lying here, on the slightly damp forest ground.

It would be a long walk back to the village, and your wounds and aches would not make it any easier. Your limbs felt heavy. Your body ached. And before you could fight back, you were defeated by tiredness.

Your eyes opened abruptly as you became aware of sounds coming closer and closer to you. A horse was coming towards you, on it an incredibly muscular man who looked familiar to you.

You had never met him before, but when he came closer and you saw his bright amber eyes, you knew who he was, what he was.

When he saw you, lying there on one of the big roots, he quickly got off his horse.

"Wait here, Roach." he told the horse.

Fear washed over you as he slowly approached you.

"Please, don't hurt me." Your voice was soft, almost a whisper. But witchers could hear better than ordinary people, he had heard it clearly enough.

The witcher stopped for a second and seemed… offended? He shook his head slightly and looked you in the eyes.

"I won't hurt you." His voice was low. Incredibly deep.

There was sincere in his voice, it almost gave you goosebumps.

He was terribly attractive, and his eyes both frightened and fascinated you. He came closer and closer to you and you could only follow him with your eyes. Your fear had eased a little, but it wasn't completely gone.

"It's not that bad," you said quietly as his eyes examined your wound. "I just need to rest a bit before I-" you made a hissing sound as he lifted the fabric covering the wound. "You are not fine." he grumbled.

He knew you wouldn't be able to walk one step on your own without collapsing. As the witcher walked to his horse and took an elixir-like phial from one of the pockets, he asked,

"What happened to you, who did this?" his voice almost sounded angry. But not because of you.

"I was gathering herbs. My uncle needs them to medicate the people in the village. And-" you had to swallow at the thought of the attack.

"There were three-three men. They were looking for someone." The witcher grimaced in anger, as if he already knew what they wanted.

"They wanted to know where the Butcher of Blaviken was."

He said nothing but an annoyed "hmm," his hand still holding the fabric so as not to cover the wound on your hip.

The witcher looked you in the eye, and up close, his own ones were even more special.

"Don't move." he demanded and you nodded. Then he dripped some of the elixir into the wound. It burned like fire.

"Ahh fuck!" you had to bite your lip to stop swearing. "It'll be over in a moment." He took your hand and nodded at you encouragingly. You squeezed his hand so hard that your fingers almost started to hurt.

"Breathe, can you do that for me?" He spoke so calmly and collectedly. You looked at him again, his gaze never leaving your face the whole time. Then you took a deep breath, as deep as you could under the pain. And as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone again.

You were breathing heavily and it felt like you had been running for hours. The witcher bandaged your wound and looked you in the eyes again. The fear you normally had of his kind, fear that was taught as a child, was now completely gone. If he hadn't come to find you, you would still be lying here now and would probably faint in no time.

He had saved you.

"What's your name?" you asked the witcher quietly as he lowered the bloody piece of cloth onto the tended and protected wound. He inhaled sharply. "It's okay if you don't-" you started but he spike over you. "Geralt of Rivia." He replied.

Your lips parted a little. You blinked in surprise as you looked at him. Geralt had gotten up and walked to his horse to put the vial back. Quietly you whispered, "The Butcher of Blaviken."

He turned to face you, "I'm sorry they attacked you."

You were astonished, because you didn't expect an apology. Actually, he had nothing to apologise about either. After all, the men were not acting on his orders.

You smiled at him weakly. Suddenly everything felt so exhausting, breathing, being able to see, everything.

"It's the potion," Geralt answered your unasked question. "It makes you tired, to heal your wounds in your sleep."

"Oh." you said softly, before you felt two strong arms lift you up. Then you fell asleep.

Geralt entered the small village on Roach, and you laying safely in his arms.

All conversation died down when they noticed the witcher.

However, when they saw you in his arms, some began to whisper.

„He's a witcher!" "What does he want with her?" "Did he kill her?" "Where did he come from?"

Geralt knew exactly where to take you. A healer was usually quick to find, but especially in such a small village. "Stop Roach."

He got down, careful not to hurt you.

Your uncle opened the door before Geralt could knock, but when he saw you, his face paled. "Y/N-" His gaze went to the blood on your coat then darted to the witcher.

"She needs to lie down." Geralt commanded. He looked at your uncle with a penetrating gaze.

"What have you done to her, Witcher?" There was hatred and disgust in his voice.

"I healed her." Geralt replied dryly.

He pushed past your uncle and quickly found what he was looking for.

He carefully laid you down on the small bed.

Your uncle hurried after the witcher, but when he saw you, he realised that what Geralt had said was true.

Your coat was bloody but the wound looked well taken care of. "I put a potion in her wound, it should work. She'll have to sleep for a while for that to happen though." Geralt sat down on the floor beside your bed and leaned his back against it.

Your uncle looked overwhelmed, but he knew well enough that there was nothing he could do now.

"Thank you, Witcher.".

"Hmm." Geralt simply replied.

While your uncle went to his herbs to make you some tea, Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

With a loud gasp, you woke up. You looked around in confusion, as you saw familiar walls and herbs, the ground was softer than before in the forest. As you slowly sat up, leaning on one elbow, you knew you were home.

Something moved beside your bed. No, not something, someone. Geralt stood up and looked at you with a soft gaze. "How are you?" he asked in his deep voice.

Your eyes went to your wound, or to the place where it had been. Your skin was completely healed, no cuts, no blood. You brushed your finger lightly over it, but it didn't even hurt anymore.

"Thank you." you whispered gratefully without really answering his question. "Thank you Geralt."

You stood up and in a matter of seconds you wrapped your arms around his strong torso. "Thank you." you mumbled into his chest once more.

Geralt was surprised, and at first he just stared down at you. You still had your arms wrapped around him when he carefully put one arm around your waist, then the other. He smelled terrible but that didn't matter right now.

He had saved you. You looked up at him, still in the embrace. Something in his eyes had changed, his look had changed. You didn't know what it was.

Geralt, however, knew, and he could not suppress it.

The way you looked at him without any fear, how you had thanked him so many times. Nothing even suggested that you thought he was the monster so many people saw him as.

Slowly his arms moved down your back. Your faces were so close that you could see the finest, smallest scars on his face. Geralt could hear your heart beating, not evenly but fast and irregularly. You looked into his amber eyes the ones that had even followed you into your sleep.

His hands pulled you closer and the moment, when his lips met yours, fast yet slow, hungry yet gentle, felt like time had stopped. As if there was only this moment, only the two of you. Your fingers played with Geralt's hair, feeling his strong neck and pulling him down even further towards you.

When you had to gasp for air and your lips parted, he still held you close to him. You bit your lip as you looked at him. Geralt exhaled heavily. "I don't believe in destiny," you whispered. "But you might've changed that."

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

[perseruna]

Endiness made a beautiful long post with all his quotes on that topic that I think is very informative and worth looking at, so here’s a link to that. And with that already discussed, I thought I’d make a thread of all his changes that we are aware of, because when you look into them, you find that none of his “book accurate” changes are actually book accurate. 

His decision to make Geralt grunt and cut his lines.

HC: "All the grunts, I either added or I didn't say anything and just grunted instead. It was often up to the other actors to go, 'I think he's not gonna say anything now.'"

JB: "Henry likes to cut his lines, 'cause he's lazy. No, he literally just likes to cut them. He likes to do more up here [frames his face with his hands] and just with face and hmms and grunts. There's a lot of hmms, and so I often have to take a lot of his lines and turn it into a lot of my stuff so that the plot happens."

So, as everyone who has read the books knows that Geralt is and always has been a yapper. Gerakt often talks or thinks in monologues, and definitely not in short grunts.

Of course when the audience started making fun of Geralt for not being able to speak in full sentences Henry promptly went back on admitting the blame and instead said that the big bad writers were the ones who didn't give him lines, and now it was his life’s mission to fight for a book accurate Geralt who speaks. 

Roach’s death scene

After S2 came out, Lauren received a lot of backlash for Roach’s death scene, with multiple sources citing that she wanted the moment to be more “comedic” before the brave Henry Cavill stepped in and refused to participate in such horrible anti source material activities.

LH: "Henry was so unhappy with the line. Finally I said, 'You know what, you come up with something. I trust you, you know this material so well, you know the book so well, you don't even have to pitch it to me.' And he came back the next day with a beautiful speech that's at the end of 'Sword of Destiny' when Geralt is facing death.”

This is the line he ended up using:

“Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend."

This was Lauren’s response AND the original line.

LH: “Here's what was scripted, in homage of the fact that a previous Roach had existed, and another one will exist soon. It's hardly a joke. Henry wanted a longer, more emotional moment, which I was more than happy to give him. Don't create drama where none exists.”

So in S2 Geralt ends up quoting a part of his monologue from ‘Sword of Destiny’ when he’s at his lowest after thinking that Yennefer had died at the battle of Sodden Hill, and he has nothing left to live for. Which to me doesn't work that well with Roach at all. That line was a response to Geralt thinking he's lost the love of his life, not his horse. In my opinion, the original line Lauren penned out is more heartfelt and actually more emotional and more book accurate as well.

The absolute removal of any Triss and Geralt “romance”

This one we don’t have that much information on in comparison to others. But there were multiple reports that at the beginning of S2 Triss and Geralt were supposed to have some kind of a romantic scene with each other which then was cut during production, and it was largely speculated that it was due to Henry Cavill. 

“Several months ago we reported on a sex scene happening between Geralt and Triss, sometime in the first half of Season 2. That didn’t happen, as we all saw, but here’s what we know about the original plan for that: Geralt and Triss are in a room together, they seem friendly at first. They are playing some kind of weird game. Whoever wins a round, gets to ask a question. We’re not privy to the exact flow of the conversation, but it eventually leads to both of them ending up in bed. We can only guess why this was cut, but perhaps it was thanks to Henry Cavill.”

Now, irrelevantly on your feelings on book Triss and Geralt you have to admit that that short-lived “romance” is indeed a part of the books and therefor book accurate. So the removal of it would go against Mr I’m fighting to make this show as much book accurate as possible. 

The removal of the Yen and Geralt sex scene in S2

"We just wanted to be very careful that it was true and real, and it didn't turn into something that we, as actors, didn't believe it should be," Cavill stated. When Yennefer and Geralt unite, they embrace, but it doesn't go further than that. He continued: "We wanted it to be emotional rather than sexual. It was really, really important, and we had to lean away from what was originally on the page." Initially, Geralt and Yennefer were written to have a more passionate night. Henry Cavill and Anya Chalotra went to "The Witcher" producers and explained why they thought a steamy evening was not the way to go. "These are people who believe one thing about the fate of another and then find out something else is true," Cavill said about Geralt believing Yennefer was dead. "That's not how they behave," the actor added. "How they behave is they just want to be with the person and emotionally recognize their existence again in that shared space.”

This one is a bit tricky because I am willing to get behind an actor who doesn't want to do a sex scene out of comfort reasons or whatnot, but Henry saying that "That's not how [Yennefer and Geralt] behave”, is quite absurd in my opinion. Because that is very much how Geralt and Yennefer behave, especially in the short stories and ToC. They are inherently a very sexual couple who come crashing in and out of each other’s lives while having very passionate sex. But I can understand wanting this scene to be more “emotional” (as if sex isn't emotional), so this one I am willing to give him a bit more leeway on. (But then again looking at the blinds saying that he refused any sex scenes because oh his “ideals” and was allegedly really nasty to Anya about it, well..)

Geralt being the perfect father figure to Ciri with no flaws and no struggles (which inevitably snowballed into the Yen Betrayal Arc)

This one I don’t see talked that much at all, and to me this one is his most detrimental one. 

@LHissrich: “In interviews, Henry explains how he felt strongly that Geralt NOT be bumbling, nor a struggling father figure. In fact, a lot of S2 is about how Geralt does come from a loving (albeit unconventional) family. Henry was passionate about this shift, and we discussed it a lot, and ultimately thought it was wonderful for his character development. But it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance.”

So I don’t know about you, but I love when characters have flaws and naturally progress be it for good or bad, some would say that that's what story telling is about, well that someone wouldn't be Henry Cavil. Geralt being a struggling father figure at first, someone who makes mistakes and learns from them and tries is very much a prominent theme in Blood of Elves and is actually very real, people make mistakes! Especially in huge shifts such as “becoming a father overnight’ but we didn't get that because Henry refused to play it that way. What we got is Geralt who already basically knows exactly how to parent, he always knows what to say, what pep talk to give and also doesn't hold any resentment and any negative feelings towards Vesemir at all. It's all one dimensional happy family here! Which goes against not only the books but what he preached about fighting tooth and nail to make the “forgotten” male characters three-dimensional as well because the horrible feminist Lauren only thinks about female characters. 

Lauren then goes on saying that “it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance” So, it is fair to speculate that Henry’s refusal to showcase Geralt having any flaws at all and act book accurate snowballed into The Controversial Yennefer Betrayal Arc. 

These are the ones that I can remember off the top off my head, so there might be more, there’s probably more that we aren’t even aware of. I think putting them all together showcase a very interesting picture. One of Henry Cavill never actually understanding who Geralt fundamentally is as a character, and of him not being a team player at all. I just hope that more and more people are aware of the insane PR his team did for him when it came to this show, and that more people are able to see through it. 

[shy-urban-hobbit]

"I'm telling you Geralt, my songs are definitely working."

"A few contracts not skimping on payment isn't proof Jaskier. It's coincidence." Geralt replied as he stuffed his newly purchased supplies into Roach's saddlebag. After two years, he didn't need to look to know the bard was probably doing his uncanny impression of a landed trout. His default expression when he thought himself gravely offended.

"Oh hoho. So it's proof you want? Fine, I'll get you proof you old cynic - wait, I'm here calling you old, how old are you? I know Witchers age differently but it's all so contradictory. I remember one text claiming you aged backwards. Backwards!"

Geralt was blessedly distracted from Jaskier's tangent by a small tug on his cloak causing him to look behind him and then down.

A small, tear stained face with huge, liquid brown eyes looked up at him. The hand that wasn't clutching Geralt's cloak fisted in the skirt of a green dress as she shuffled her small, booted feet. Witcher and child stared at one another and even Jaskier had fallen silent.

"Are you the White Wolf?" She asked in a small voice.

Geralt could only nod in response, keeping an eye and both ears out for angry adults about to accuse him of kidnapping.

"I can't find my Papa." She sniffled, voice trembling and eyes welling up.

He felt himself slip into Witcher mode, trying to think what could be snatching people from a crowded town in the middle of the day, "What do you mean you can't find him, has he gone missing or-"

"Sweetheart, do you mean you got separated from your Papa in the market?" Jaskier gently interjected before Geralt could start fully interrogating her. The girl gave a small nod, turning her attention to the bard now kneeling in the dirt next to her.

Geralt felt his face heat up. Right. Just a lost child. That was also a possible (and the most logical) explanation.

"It's ok, we'll help you find him. Won't we Geralt?" Jaskier's tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

It turned out that Jaskier's idea of helping was having the girl perch on Geralt's shoulders and scan the top of the crowd for her father while he stood playing silly little dittys to keep her from crying again. Geralt holding onto her shins lightly and trying to ignore the mess being made on his cloak by muddy feet.

"I see him! Papa! Papa!"

Geralt tightened his grip slightly as her weight shifted with her frantic waving. Waiting until he was clearly making his way over to them before setting her gently back on the ground.

"Mika! Oh thank the God's." He turned his attention to the two men, his eyes widened as he took Geralt in fully.

"You're-"

"Hmmm."

Geralt tried to hide his surprise as the man grasped his hand in a firm if slightly clammy grip. "My thanks Wolf. I swear, if I went home without her my wife would make sure I shared the same fate as that Hag from the song of yours." He said, smiling awkwardly at his own attempt at humour, "Come on Mika, say goodbye. Oh, here."

He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. Geralt could smell warm sugar as he handed it over. "It's not much, but I don't know a single person who doesn't like cake. I could do with cutting down myself." He said, patting his own slight paunch before taking his daughters hand with a final "Thank you." Mika turning back to give a wave which they both returned before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

"What?" Geralt asked as they left the town. The bard hadn't stopped grinning at him like the cat who'd got the canary.

"Nothing. It just, the timing and everything. Seems Destiny agreed with me for once. The songs are making a difference."

"Hmm." Geralt fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh don't give me that." Jaskier said, swatting Geralt in the side as he unwrapped the package Mika's father had given them, "You saw as well as I did there were plenty of town guards around but she went to you. She wanted you. Oooh, maybe this would be good for a new song. The Gentle Wolf! Yes I- hey! "

"No cake for you until you stop." Geralt stated, popping a piece into his own mouth to hide his smile.

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Henry Cavill Masterlist

Here you will find all of my Henry Cavill works, arranged by character and type of work.

One-Shots

Forever And A Day - Explicit - Geralt x Black!OFC - Geralt and Lavinia share a passionate reunion.

Events

You're Mine | Geralt of Rivia + Female Reader + Daddy Kink + “Can you feel how much I want you?” + Darkfic (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

Series

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

Requests

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth - Explicit - Walter Marshall x Reader - You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Challenges

Fifteen Minutes - Explicit - Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC - What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

Headcanons

Hobbies

Events

A Little Fresh Air | Walter Marshall + Female Reader + Public Sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut (Sweet Treats Event 2024)

One-Shots

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe - Explicit - Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader - Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse - Explicit - Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader - A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Don’t Kill My Vibe - Explicit - Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader - You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Requests

Happy Birthday, Cupcake - General - Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader - Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Praise You - General - Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader - Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

One-Shots

What Are You Doing, StepBro? - Explicit - Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader - You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Requests

Doing Something Unholy - Explicit - Charles Brandon x Reader - This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Series

Scrapbook (finished) - Side characters include Walter Marshall, Evan Marshall, Syverson, and Gus March-Phillipps

One-Shots

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director’s Cut] {DARKER FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Series

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

One-Shots

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl - Explicit - Napoleon Solo x Reader - Napoleon wines and dines.

Series

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

One-Shots

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director’s Cut] {DARKER FIC} - Explicit - Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader - Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU - Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Treat Me Like A Slut - Explicit - August Walker x Reader - August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Requests

Executive Temptation - Explicit - CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader - You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

One-Shots

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind - Explicit - Sherlock Holmes x Reader - As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Requests

The Paganini Problem - Mature - Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader - Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Series

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

Challenges

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - Mature - Syverson x Reader - When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Requests

Shape-Up - Explicit - Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) - Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Drabbles

My Little Strawberry - Mature - Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches) - A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach. 

Events

Say It Again | Captain Syverson + Female Reader + Phone Sex + “Hmm, you’re not very patient, are you?” + Smut (Sweet Treats Event 2024)

One-Shots

Nothing More Than An Animal - Explicit - Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader - After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Gus March-Phillips (The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

Henry!Wolvie AKA The Cavillrine (Deadpool & Wolverine)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

[januaryembrs]

HEARTBEAT | Geralt x reader

Request: hellooo! if your still up for requests i'd love a geralt one please! perhaps reader is vary of horses (maybe even afraid) and he tries to help? &lt;3

description: After learning your fear of horses, Geralt takes a gentle approach at teaching you to trust his companion, Roach.

Word Count: 1.1k

Trigger warnings: fear of horses? close proximity?

main masterlist

Authors note: I'm back finishing the last of the requests sent, I do so apologise for the wait I've been super busy over Christmas and hope to satiate you all soon!

“What’s wrong?” Came his rugged voice, knocking you out of the stressed reverie you were in. 

“What?” You asked, half mindedly, “What do you mean?” You repeated, finally coming out of your thoughtful daze. 

“You’re being strange. Have been ever since we left town,” You felt caught. Witcher’s were naturally observant men, something you cursed yourself for not thinking of before, now that it had come back to bite you in the arse. 

And you had been acting strange. First it was refusing to mount the horse Geralt rode, Roach you knew her to be. You were tired all the time from walking the whole way to the next town while Geralt had the luxury of a steed, though you had brought the punishment on yourself you supposed. Then it was flinching every time the poor mare so much as whinnied, which she did so a lot when spooked by the monsters Geralt brought down. And now you refused to even sleep if she was too close to your bedspread. 

When you had been in town, it was not so noticeable. You spent a lot of time at the inn you were staying at, away from the bay coloured mare, so Geralt had not noticed the odd habits before. But now the two of you had hit the road and were sleeping next to a campfire instead of a roaring hearth, it was much more apparent.

“I-” You cut yourself off as the words died in your mouth. Your face blanked for a moment, thinking long about how you were to explain the issue to a man who knew no fear.

Geralt slayed monsters for a living, monsters that knew how to kill and kill well. Some of the bodies he brought back were two, three times his already mammoth size, and he still managed to charge at them without any hesitation. 

How on all the gods names were you supposed to tell him you were scared of horses? 

“Spit it out, then.” Geralt grumbled in his brash manner, though you could see in his amber eyes he was veiling his annoyance over true concern. Perhaps you wanted to leave him, he had expected nothing less. The two of you had only been friends a matter of months, but everyone always tires of him and his lifestyle eventually. 

He knew exactly what was to come out of your mouth. 

I don’t want to know you anymore.

“I’m scared of horses,” His head whipped up to meet your sullen eyes. Your face painted that of deep embarrassment, avoiding his gaze and poking at the fire with a frown. 

“What?” He bit, the confusion of the sentence clear as a bell in his tone. “What do you mean? It’s a horse.”

Your face flooded with heat that surely hadn’t come from the camp. The way he said it made it sound such a foolish fear to have. And it was, you supposed. Roach had never made any move to harm you or anyone else for that matter. But the idea of being atop such a muscled beast and giving her full control of whether she throws you off her or not made you frozen to the bone. 

“No shit,” You snapped, though all rebellion died in your chest as you accepted the fact he was clearly judging your fear of such a harmless creature. “I know it sounds ridiculous, I just always have been scared of them, alright?” 

Geralt pondered with a frown. Not even his usual ‘Hmm’ made an appearance, and so the two of you sat in silence. You feeling more foolish by the second, and him thinking fast of how to get through this problem of yours. 

Until he stood up brashly, walking over to his furred companion. You thought for a moment he was going to leave you here alone, thinking he stood much better chances with someone who was not so cowardly. And how could you blame him? You would hate to be stuck with someone so fearful when it came down to such a hostile environment. 

“Come here,” The behemoth man commanded, though he did so as gently as his rumbling voice would allow. 

You stared after him, eyes flicking to his outstretched hand, following his figure up to the calm mare that seemed unbothered by her owner's close proximity.

You hesitated for a moment, before standing and following his orders. Slowly taking steps towards the two, Geralt caught the moment your breath died in your throat as Roach grunted as horses normally do. He saw the way your fingers clenched at your side and your step faltered. 

He lowered his hand to calmly take yours in his large grasp, gently tugging you towards him and Roach despite the way he felt you resist. 

“Geralt-” You protested, her long snout seeking out your new smell and blowing hot air in your face. You tried stepping away from her, but Geralt’s body encompassed yours and forced you in place. His one arm stayed holding your wrist easily, while the other came around your body to push her snout away from your face softly. 

“She’s just curious about you, is all. She won’t hurt you,” Geralt tried to soothe you, feeling his strong heartbeat pressing against your spine. He began shuffling you forward under her neck with a strength you still tried and failed to resist against. 

“Geralt, please,” The panic was clear in your voice. You didn’t like horses and never would, and this kind of close exposure to them may have worked for some but only made you more on edge.

“Just trust me,” He whispered in your ear tenderly, lifting your arm up to her muscled chest. Your hand met her soft fur, her skin quivering momentarily at the contact though she showed no sign of upset, and his large hands spread your palm out onto her own heart beat. 

“Horses' hearts beat much slower than yours, did you know?” He murmured, keeping you tucked under her head and in front of him. You shook your head, feeling your own chest pounding at the proximity to such a beast. “Witchers hearts beat even slower than that,”  His breath was close to your ear now, as was Roach’s on your opposite side. You felt as if you were being squished in between the two of them, their breaths synchronising as they rolled down your spine in equal parts heat and chill. For every other beat of Roach’s heart came Geralt’s reverberating strongly in his chest, and it was then that you realised what he was doing. They sounded the same, horse and man. Hearts beating alike, breath swarming your senses gently, no danger to be found. 

If you should be worried about anything on your journey, it should be the monster-slaying beast that stood behind you that caressed your hand so kindly, and whispered in your ears that made your breathing stutter. 

This time when Roach nickered in your direction, you felt little fear, atleast half of what you’d had before. There was nothing to worry about when you had a man like Geralt guiding you.

[0dde11eth]

Post mountain geralt and jaskier run into eachother at the market

Jaskier: ... how have you been?

Geralt: good... hmm... how have you been?

Jaskier: I got another phd

Geralt: Oh I'm so sorry, do you take medicine for that? I can ask triss for some!

[queenxxxsupreme]

Rare Encounters (Jaskier x f!witcher!reader)

A/N: hi guys…. I finished Fallout the tv show and it gave me that urge to write that I haven’t had in a while. Now fingers crossed that it works for the long run. Once I can get a good feel for the Fallout universe, my ass will 100% be writing fallout fics 😂

Warnings: nothing outside of canon

Summary: Jaskier meets his first female witcher.

“I swear, you all live like fucking pigs.” You grumbled as you picked up the empty tankards and bowls.

“Oh, just relax, Y/N.” Lambert spoke from across the room. He sat at a table with most of the other wolves as they told stories and carried on. “No one cares what this place looks like.”

“I do, as should you.” You placed the dirty dishes on to the end of one of the empty tables. “Who is going to be doing dishes tonight?”

All of the wolves diverted their eyes away from you.

“Oh come on, boys. It’s just dishes. You’ve done worse, I’m sure of it.”

“I’d rather gut an ekimorra than do house chores.” Coen shook his head.

“Alright. Well then, I’ll just choose for myself who will be the lucky one.”

“When are ya goin’ to get eaten by a cockatrice or something, Y/N?” The redhead wolf teased. “All this nagging you do is–,”

With a flick of your wrist and a sign of aard, Lambert was sent backwards off of the bench. You grinned just a little.

“You fucking–,” He signed aard back at you the second he was on his feet, but you were quick to sign quen, blocking his attack.

“Don’t start that this early in the winter, Lambert.” Vesemir scolded him as he moved to sit next to Coen.

“Me?” Lambert raised his brows. “She’s the one who started it!”

The doors to the keep opened, bringing in a rush of cold wind. You looked up to see Geralt, a man, and a girl walking in.

The wolves fell silent as Geralt pushed the hood off of his head. A fond smile came to his lips.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Lambert stood to his feet and took a few steps towards his brother. Coen followed.

“We thought you were dead, or lost.”

“Not yet.” Geralt embraced Coen first and then Lambert.

All the other wolves soon took their turn greeting their fellow witcher.

“Y/N.” He said your name fondly. “Glad to see you didn’t let Lambert get you killed on the path.”

“I about killed her myself a couple times.” Lambert glared at you. “She’s like having a second Vesemir around, except some how she’s worse!”

You gave him a shove away from you, rolling your eyes.

“That’s the last time I spend time with you on the path.” Your words were directed to Lambert while you gave Geralt a hug. “Now I have to spend the entire winter in this gods damned keep with him too.”

“Have you seen Eskel, Geralt?” Lambert returned to his seat.

“He’s not here?” Geralt furrowed his brow.

“Haven’t seen any sign of him.” Coen shook his head. “Usually he’s one of the first one’s here, but hasn’t made it this year.”

“Hmm.”

“Wolf. You’re home.” Vesemir was the last to greet the White Wolf.

“I had to make a few stops.” Geralt looked back to the girl and the man to his left.

Your eyes fell on her. Your medallion had trembled when she first entered the room and even now, you could still feel the chaos radiating off of her. She seemed curious, bright eyes taking in every witcher around her. Then she looked at you. You held her gaze, lifting your chin just a little in acknowledgement.

You turned to continue cleaning up the mess the wolves left behind as introductions were made between Geralt’s guests and the wolves.

“And who might she be?” Jaskier asked Geralt as you picked up an empty pitcher from the table the wolves sat at.

“Y/N here is the maid of the keep.” Lambert answered for you. His eyes followed you as you moved around the table, a little grin playing on his lips. “Helps keep everything all nice and clean for us men.”

You launched the pitcher at his head. He dodged to the side, nearly pushing Coen off of the bench in the process.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble this winter, Lambert.” Vesemir warned him.

“This is Y/N.” Geralt introduced you properly. He and his guests took a seat at the table with the rest of the wolves. “She’s our sister.”

“Sister?” Ciri repeated, furrowing her brows. “As in a witcher?”

“It would seem that way.” You confirmed with a slight nod and a sigh.

“That’s absolutely amazing!” Jaskier exclaimed. “A lady witcher.”

“I think calling her a lady may be overselling it.” Coen snickered.

“Yeah, she ain’t no lady.” Lambert added.

You moved to lean in between him and Coen, reaching for an empty plate. As you were turning away from the table, you made sure to purposefully smack both of the wolves in the head with the plate.

“Fuck!”

“Why don’t you boys make yourselves useful and go do these dishes before they get out of hand?” You placed the bin of dirty dishes down in front of Coen.

They grumbled but decided not to fight it. If they did dishes now, they wouldn’t have to do them later. Or so they thought.

“You’ve never mentioned that you had a sister, Geralt.”

The White Wolf grumbled in his chest as he looked at his bard. It was a warning. He knew very well how Jaskier was with the opposite sex.

“Geralt doesn’t like to do such a thing.” You settled with sitting at the end of a bench at one of the tables. “I would take away all the spotlight from the grand White Wolf. If word got out about a lady witcher, why, the White Wolf wouldn’t be so exciting, now would he?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at you as he moved to the table that had a jug of ale and mugs. He poured himself a mug and then returned to sit across from you.

“If it wouldn’t be too much, I would absolutely love to hear more about you.” Jaskier sat down just beside Geralt. He leaned against the table with both hands and his voice oozed with excitement. “You see, I am a bard by trade. Perhaps you’ve heard some of my work.”

You gazed into his blue eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of your scarred lips.

“You’re a brave soul, bard.”

He smiled a bit bashfully, cheeks flushing light pink.

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” Geralt told him. His words made Jaskier’s smile drop.

“What? Of-Of course it was!”

“It was more of an observation, bard.” You said. “Not many could come to a witcher’s keep and ask a witcher to share her war stories just moments after meeting her.”

“Jaskier has no fear.” Geralt sighed.

“Well, I-I wouldn’t say that. I have plenty of fear.”

You smiled a little at the bard.

“How was the Path this year?” Geralt changed the subject. “I can’t imagine spending the whole year with Lambert was pleasant.”

“Oh, it was anything but pleasant.” You let out a small breath, scratching your fingertips over a groove in the wooden tabletop. “I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with spoons than spend that much time with him.”

Geralt chuckled a little.

“Y/N!” You heard Coen shout your name from the kitchen. You turned your head to the side, listening closely to what was going on.

Geralt furrowed his brows a little and tilted his head. He could also hear the roughhousing going on in the kitchen.

“Ah, fuck.” You grunted, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Is something wrong?” Jaskier asked you.

“My brothers are fools. Excuse me, bard. Princess.”

Jaskier watched as you crossed the room and disappeared behind a heavy wooden door. He didn’t realize he had been staring for too long until the White Wolf grumbled.

The bard turned his head to his traveling companion, brows falling and lips pressing together in a line as he found the witcher glaring at him.

“What?”

“Don’t think about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You get that same look in your eye when we go to banquets. That same look has gotten you nearly killed for bedding the wrong woman.”

“Geralt! Have a little faith in me! That is your sister for crying out loud! I-I would— I would never—,”

“Unfortunately, I know you too well, Jaskier.”

Jaskier found himself looking back to the door you had disappeared through. A sheepish smile crossed his lips.

“She is rather stunning, isn’t she?”

“Jaskier.”

“It’s a compliment!”

Geralt shook his head.

“She will rip you to pieces.”

“Isn’t that the hope?” Jaskier grinned.

“Gross.” Ciri scrunched her nose up. She had been so quiet that Jaskier almost forgot that they were in the company of the young girl.

“Sorry, Ciri.”

***

You carried a mug in one hand as you left the kitchen. It had been a few hours since Geralt and his guests had arrived. By now, night had fallen on Kaer Morhen. Lambert was preparing a late dinner for everyone. Coen and Vesemir were fixing a fallen shelf in the library. Ciri was in the library reading through a few books to pass time.

Geralt and Jaskier were just getting back in from checking on the horses.

“So I see you changed your mind about your Child Surprise.” You spoke. Your voice reverberated off of the walls.

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Cintra was overtaken by Nilfgard. She has no one.”

“Well, now she has us.” You took a seat on a bench but kept your back to the table. Geralt and Jaskier sat the same way, with their backs to the table just across from you.

A door across the room creaked as it was opened. Being that the door was behind you, you had to turn your head and your upper half to be able to see Vesemir.

“Where’s Ciri?” Geralt asked him.

“Left her in the library. She seemed rather interested in an old beastiary.” Vesemir poured himself a mug of ale.

“To think we have a princess here in the walls of Kaer Morhen.” You shook your head, finishing off the last bit of your drink. “This winter is going to be an interesting one.”

“She isn’t the first princess here.” Geralt said. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked away.

“What does that mean?” Jaskier looked to Geralt for an explanation.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Vesemir took a seat next to you. “All that matters is we don’t try to kill each other this winter.”

“Lambert is at the very top of my list.” You told him. “The first chance I get, I’m going to suffocate him in his sleep.”

“Y/N.” Vesemir scolded.

“Where do you hail from, Y/N?” Jaskier asked you.

“Ard Carraigh, though that was more than a lifetime ago.” You looked down at your empty tankard.

The sound of the horses out in the stables made you turn your head towards the door. You furrowed your brows, unsure of what had them stirring.

“Something’s bothering the horses.” Geralt grunted.

“I will go see to it.” Vesemir sighed as he stood to his feet.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” You asked him.

“No need. I don’t think it’s that much of a concern.”

You watched the old witcher leave through the heavy front door.

“I should go check on Ciri.” Geralt thought out loud.

“There can’t be too much she’d get into trouble with.” You said. “Nothing up there other than rats the size of a foal.”

“You’d be surprised with Ciri. She can find trouble out of thin air.” He stood up. “Don’t stir up any trouble while I’m gone, Jaskier.”

“You have too little faith in me, Geralt!”

The White Wolf rolled his eyes but said nothing as he walked away. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through a door that led to the rest of the keep.

“How long have you….” Jaskier trailed off, unsure of the right words to use. “Have you been a witcher long?”

“Are you asking my age, bard?”

“No, no! I’d never ask a lady such a thing.” He chuckled nervously. “I assume that if you have been a witcher for very long, I would have known about you. Or heard about you at some point in time.”

You stood up and moved seats, choosing instead to sit beside the bard. He shifted in his seat, clearly nervous by your sudden close presence.

“It’s been decades since I came here to Kaer Morhen.” You looked upwards to the high ceilings. “Before the sacking.”

”What was it like? Before the- Before the sacking?” Jaskier turned his head to you. He admired your side profile, blue eyes mapping out your facial features. The curve of your nose down to the shape of your lips.

Your attention was shifted to him. It was then that you noticed he was practically staring at your lips. You smiled a little, causing him to look up at your eyes. His cheeks turned pink and he chuckled nervously.

”My-My apologizes.”

”It was nothing grand.” You answered his question as you rose to your feet. “I need more drink. Would you like to come with me?”

”Yes.” Jaskier answered a little too quickly.

He followed behind you like a puppy. You looked over your shoulder to him, the twinkle in your eyes making his heart race. Gods, you were a beauty.

You pushed the door to the kitchen open but before Jaskier could follow you inside, Lambert and Coen were coming out.

“What are you doing, barker?” Coen asked.

“Just— I was just—,”

”Leave him alone, Coen.” You called from just inside the kitchen. Jaskier couldn’t see you because of the wall the two large witchers were forming, blocking you from him.

The boys laughed, their boisterous voices echoing throughout the room. Lambert clapped his hand down on Jaskier’s shoulder as they passed him. Jaskier was just a little confused.

”They are, uh, quite the pair, aren’t they?”

”A pair of jackasses is what they are.” You shook your head.

“Big brothers are like that. I have four.”

”Sounds horrendous.” You poured a second mug of ale and passed it to the bard. “Do you have any other siblings?”

”An older sister and a younger sister.”

”Seven children?” You raised your brows as you leaned against the wooden counter. “Yikes.”

”Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. He leaned against the counter beside you. “Always had a big family.”

”I was one of the last witchers to ever be made, so I suppose I’ve only ever had older brothers.” You took a sip of the ale. ”Couldn’t imagine it any other way. They irritate the piss out of me, but they’re my brothers.”

”They are good men.” Jaskier nodded. “Albeit, annoying. But good men.”

You found yourself gaze at the barker. He was stunning. Warm skin, dark curly hair, even darker eyelashes, and bright icy blue eyes that contrasted his features so nicely. He was a pleasure to gaze at.

The door to the kitchen opened and there stood Geralt.

Jaskier hurried to move, taking a step to the side to put space between himself and you.

“Ah, Geralt!”

The White Wolf offered a low grumble before he looked to you.

”Eskel is home. He doesn’t look good.”

“Is he okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows together. Your drink as discarded on the counter as you hurried to leave the kitchen.

”Vesemir has him in the infirmary.”

You slipped past the witcher and hurried away.

Geralt waited until your footsteps had disappeared down the staircase. Then he turned his attention to Jaskier. He crossed his arms over his chest, appearing even more intimidating than usual.

“Oh, come on, Geralt! Don’t look at me like that!”

”Y/N is—,”

”She is your sister! And you, you are my closest friend!” Jaskier moved to stand in front of Geralt. He placed his hands on Geralt’s biceps and attempted to shake the man but Geralt didn’t budge. “I wouldn’t dream of ever crossing you like that—,”

”Jaskier.” Geralt almost rolled his eyes. ”Get your hands off of me.”

”She is rather friendly though.” Jaskier clasped his hands behind his back as he slipped around the stocky witcher to leave the kitchen. “Very chatty too. Unlike you, you cranky old man.”

Geralt turned around to watch his friend as he started to walk away.

“Jaskier.”

”Yes, Geralt?” Jaskier turned on his toes to face him.

”Just be careful.”

The bard didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side just a bit.

“Uh, o-okay, Geralt.”

[ruinedbycatastrophe]

 🎶

music playlist // accepting // @okruchlodu

'don't let me go by raign' "Hold me in your beating heart I won't let go Forever is not enough Let me lay my head down on the shadow by your side." 'november by gabrielle aplin' "Oh how can I forgive? Those words will stain forever." 'lullabies by chvrches' "Paralysed and spinning backwards Lullabies don't comfort me Televise the great disaster We're better off inside of the screen." 'when you come home by mree' "You lift me up with every step that I take You are the reason, you're the answer when I'm drifting away And through it all, when I start making a mess You are forgiving, everlasting, you're my everything." 'come to your senses from tick tick boom' "Deep in my eyes, what do you see? Deep in my sighs, listen to me Let the music commence from inside Not only one sense, but use all five."

[samstree]

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jaskier asks in wonder, the golden sunset casting long shadows behind them.

They sit side by side on the beach, toes buried in the sand. There is no one else on the coast for miles, only the two of them. They could be the only two people in the world.

It’d be enough, Geralt realizes.

He looks back at Jaskier, turning away from the sunset. Jaskier wears happiness well, his cheeks round with a smile, eyes flowing with warmth. It’s a state rarely shown around anyone else. A bard performs to an audience, but never to Geralt, never when it’s just the two of them.

“Yeah,” Geralt whispers, “it is.”

Jaskier meets his gaze, the crinkling around his eyes deepening. He looks at Geralt like this, like he’s seeing his favorite person in the world, the one that makes it all better.

“Don’t be cheeky, witcher,” Jaskier says, putting his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. “You are supposed to be watching the sunset.”

“Rather watch something else.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you know?” Jaskier’s grin stretches. He pokes Geralt’s cheek so he turns his attention back to the sight in front of them. “But this is fleeting.”

“Hmm.”

The sun dips into the horizon, where the crashing waves blend into the sky, the clouds painted with an upturned palette.

“Close your eyes,” Jaskier says softly, “just for a moment. Go on.”

And Geralt does. He lets the sun kiss his eyelids.

Jaskier sighs happily, leaning against Geralt’s shoulder. “The sun will set today. Tomorrow it shall rise again, but never the same. This moment isn’t meant to last, and for the rest of our lives, we can only live with the knowledge that this sunset has been lost.” He pauses, breathing in, and out. “Keep your eyes closed for me, dear, because right now, it’s like you are already living it. You’ve already lost this sunset. It only exists in your memories now, and yet…”

“And yet?”

Geralt nearly melts into Jaskier’s voice.

“And yet,” Jaskier continues. “Open your eyes.”

Geralt opens his eyes, and the incandescent light spills into his vision, nearly blinding him. His breath catches at the beauty of the same sunset.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Jaskier agrees. “Just like that, you’ve briefly experienced the joy of finding something that is long lost.”

They sit in silence until the sun completely disappears, the golden orange fading into a blue canvas, illuminated by the stars.

There are tears in Geralt’s eyes. He blinks them away before turning towards Jaskier again. The stars are in his eyes too.

“It’s lost anyway,” Geralt says, chest heavy with a grief he cannot name.

“Not the same.” Jaskier shakes his head. “You found it once. It will always be with you, right here.”

When Jaskier presses a hand on Geralt’s chest, his touch is warm, like the sunset lingering in Geralt’s heart.

☆

Brokilon forest is quiet when Geralt wakes up from the pain, his back covered in cold sweat.

The aches flare up at night, deep in his bones, when the air is cold and the dew is heavy. There are wounds magic cannot heal, like Yen said. He groans against the discomfort, breaths coming out erratic.

“Hey, Geralt. It’s alright.” Jaskier is next to him in an instant. “You are alright.”

Cool fingers brush away the hair on his forehead soothingly. Jaskier sits beside the bed with soft words and gentle touches, his presence steady and calming as Geralt slowly breathes through the throbbing pain.

“Jask—” he reaches out, catching Jaskier’s hand in his. “I’m fine.”

“I know. I know. All healed, as you claim.” Worry still strains Jaskier’s voice. “I’m not quite convinced. Are you sure we shouldn’t stay for a few days more? Just a bit longer.”

Geralt pulls himself up on the bed with Jaskier’s help, leaning against the bark and the leaves. He winces at the way his knee pops.

“We need to leave tomorrow,” Geralt says, his brow still tight.

Jaskier looks away, but Geralt can make out the hesitation in his movement, in the way he seems to want to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Of course,” he says, in the end.

Geralt stays there, waiting for the pain to fade. It doesn’t for a long time.

“Jask,” he asks tiredly, tugging Jaskier’s hand, “will you come here?”

Jaskier doesn’t move. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Just… let me look at you.”

Geralt moves to the side, leaving room for Jaskier to sit side by side with him. He opens his arms when Jaskier carefully climbs into bed, curling into his side. Something clicks into place when Jaskier fits into his body like this. Too many things are going wrong, but this…

This is right.

“Hey,” Jaskier says softly. He guides Geralt to look at him with a hand on his cheek, eyes bright like the fireflies in the forest. “I’m here.”

Geralt closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Jaskier’s. There’s too much lost in too little time. He doesn’t dare to think about losing Jaskier too, the last person by his side. He shudders to imagine being here alone, injured and dying, with no gentle hands holding him.

But Jaskier is here, with his lute and his songs, his unconditional loyalty. Jaskier found him.

Geralt opens his eyes with an exhale.

“You are here,” he says. “You found me.”

In the moonlight, under the canopy of the forest, Jaskier lets Geralt rest on his shoulder, a smile under his breath.

“I always will,” he whispers the promise. “I won’t lose you, Geralt, not too often, not for long. You see, I found you once, all those years ago in that terrible tavern. I’ve kept you with me since, right here.”

He takes Geralt’s hand and presses it over his fast-beating heart. A human’s heart, fragile and breakable, but unbelievably strong at the same time.

Geralt is tired. All he feels is the rhythm of Jaskier’s heart under his fingertips.

He sleeps with Jaskier next to him, the last piece of his home, murmuring soft things to ward off the faint echoing of his injuries.

They sleep in the quiet forest, when their family is out there somewhere.

Tomorrow, the sun will rise, but never the same. Because tomorrow, Geralt will find the rest of their family too.

[curlygirlybitchachos]

Human Reader

*the witchers sitting around the desk*

Geralt: no you don't understand. Jaskier sometimes can be so reckless I'm wondering how is he still alive?

Eskel: oh god I can feel this.

Geralt: hmm... No offense, but Y/n looks more calm than the bard.

Eskel: once when I was on a hunt, Y/n stayed at the camp. We were traveling together like... A month I guess? They didn't know much about witcher stuff. When I get back from the hunt I found them looking straight at the fire. And when I asked them what's going on, they told me, that they drinked all of my potions because "they were all shiny and pretty". I had never been so worried and nervous in my whole life.

Geralt: you won. *under his breath* thanks god for Jaskier.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

“Geralt, darling…”

“Hmmm”

“I noticed your communication skills have greatly improved over the last few months. You use your words instead of just grunting far more these days. I’m very proud of you.”

“Thank you, Jaskier.”

“As such, I was thinking that perhaps it is time for another lesson in verbal communication.”

“Is that so.”

“Yes! It is so! Now, I realize this is a lesson usually given to performers, such as myself, but I think it is one you could greatly benefit from.”

Geralt sighs. Knowing that Jaskier will simply continue to pester him if he doesn’t agree, Geralt says, “If you think I would benefit from the lesson, I’ll to do my best to learn.”

Before, he would have told the bard to fuck off, but ever since the mountain, Geralt had been trying to put in an effort to do better. Doing better meant communicating better. The need for that had only increased when, a year ago, Geralt had finally gotten up the courage to kiss Jaskier and their relationship had been forever changed. In a good way. The kind of good way Geralt didn’t want to lose ever again.

“Excellent! In that case I see no reason not to start that lesson now.”

Geralt did. They were walking the path and Geralt was walking beside Jaskier; guiding Roach by her reigns. Ciri was away, somewhere safe with Yennifer and learning to control her magic, but that didn’t mean there weren’t still threats. He had to remain vigilant in case of an attack or a monster, and trying to focus on what Jaskier was saying would be distracting.

But, on the other hand, they were on a section of road surrounded by fields. For miles, there would be very few places for bandits or any monster too deadly to hide. Geralt would almost certainly see them long before they became a threat. So, he agreed.

“Alright. I’m listening.”

“Ok. So there are 5 organs of communication.” Geralt watched from the corner of his eye as Jaskier counted them off on his fingers.

The head

The heart

The gut

The groin

The arms

“You’re very good with the 1st and the 5th organs. The head refers to things you state. They are a matter of fact. No ifs ands or buts about them. You’ve proven to excel at this in the past several months. And the arms refer to non-verbal communication that is instead conveyed through action. Again. You excel at this.”

To prove his point, and to be an ass, Geralt raises an eyebrow at him and smirks while spreading the arm that is currently not busy guiding Roach.

Jaskier laughs and gently smacks the arm now extended towards him. “Yes. Exactly. However, you are lacking in the other three departments.”

Lowering his arm, Geralt asks, “so how do I go about fixing that? I’m not even sure I completely understand how the first 4 work. I’m communicating with my mouth and voice. Is that what you mean by head? And if that’s the case, I would have thought I was doing just fine with groin.”

Jaskier swats his arm again.

“Yes and no. In that regard, what you’re doing with your groin falls under arms.”

“Hmm.”

“Let me give you examples.”

Jaskier seems to take a moment to think.

“If I was going to tell you ‘I want you to come here’ there are 5 different ways I could go about that.”

“The 5th being arms. I could simply make eye contact with you. Point at you and then the ground. You would understand what that meant, yes?”

“Yes, Geralt exactly. The 1st one being head where I simply say to you ‘I want you to come here.’ And you would understand it to be a simple request.”

“Hmm.”

“But, if I were to make the same statement using my heart,” Jaskier’s eyes got bigger and his posture less ridged. When he continued, his voice was soft and breathy like when they’re lying together at night and just talking, “I want you to come here.”

Oh. Geralt had always been aware of how Jaskier would talk when it was just the two of them. How it would feel different, like now.

He’s tried to do that before, but it had never quite had the same effect. Like it was just… incorrect “I’ve tried that”, he tells Jaskier, “but it just doesn’t work right.”

“You mean when you look at me very intensely and get quieter?”

“Yes.”

“Well… that is part of it. But this isn’t about volume, or what your eyes are doing. It’s about what feeling you’re letting yourself have as you say it.”

Hmmm. That made sense. Even now, when letting his thoughts be known, Geralt struggled with the emotions part.

“So what’s gut?”

“But you haven’t tried heart yet!”

Geralt leveled a look at Jaskier that made it clear he needed to move on for now.

“Oh, all right. The 3rd is statements made in reaction. There isn’t much thought to them, like a gut reaction or when you have to make a decision in the moment.” Jaskier’s voice got louder and more rushed, “I want you to come here!”

Geralt moved closer to Jaskier on instinct. The almost fear in his voice had him going before he could remember this was an example.

“Ah. I think I understand this one. It’s fear.”

“Well,” Jaskier drawled, “it can be. It can also be excitement, or anger, or any other number of emotions. Much like heart can be hurt or longing and not just love. It’s just reactionary. Truth to the heads fact.”

This was getting confusing. How could it be fear but also other things? Geralt decided he’d need time to think about this and it was probably better to keep going. “So what is groin?”

“Ah,” Jaskier’s demeanor changed once again. It was one Geralt was very familiar with, he’d watched Jaskier adapt it with men and women all over the continent for decades. He’s been on the receiving end of it as of late and had grown fond of the change in Jaskier’s stance, the sway of his hips, the light in his eyes. He’d even seen Jaskier adopt it with a particularly good meal when they’d been getting by on what Geralt could hunt for too long.

When Jaskier spoke, it was low and gravely, and sent a shiver down Geralt’s spine. “I want you to come here.”

“Desire. And not just lust.”

Jaskier’s stance and voice changed once again, the change almost jarring, “Yes! Exactly. The wanting something so badly you can feel it.”

“Hmm. That one makes more sense.”

“Yes, you aren’t terrible at groin, but you tend to only use it when you’re horny and I insist you use your words. You could be using it for so many other things. And don’t give me the you want nothing speech again. I know that’s bullshit.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good!”

“I’m going to need some time to think on all of this, but in the meantime,” Geralt wrapped his free arm around Jaskier’s waist and gently pulled him into his side. Then, putting as much groin into his voice as he could, “telling me you want me got me hard. There’s no one around for miles.”

Geralt enjoyed watching a blush creep up Jaskier’s neck and hearing his heart speed up.

“Not going to say ‘no’ to that, dear witcher.”

Thanks @0dde11eth for telling me to write this

[inanoldhousewrites]

(you'll never) guess who's coming to dinner

It was clear as soon as Geralt walked in the door that something was bothering Jaskier. When he gave a kiss to his wife, Yennefer kissed back, but when he kissed the top of Jaskier’s head walking past, Jaskier leaned into it, but didn’t say anything. Quite the change from his usual response of dramatically demanding more. Geralt raised his eyebrow at Yennefer in question, but she just shook her head and shrugged.

Dinner was stilted. Jaskier was clearly distracted, but didn’t want to bring up whatever was bothering him. As soon as dinner was cleared away, however, Jaskier made a pass at them. It was not uncommon for one of them to work out their feelings through a round (or more) of vigorous sex, so Geralt and Yennefer followed him to the bedroom.

It was only after they’re sated and snuggling that Jaskier brought up what was on his mind.

“I know you don’t mind me sleeping with other people,” he begins, and Geralt tries not to tense because that was not the direction he expected. “But would you be okay if I maybe wanted to date someone?”

“Are you getting serious about Vespula?” Yennefer asked. “I thought you were currently off again.”

“No, it is. It’s not Vespula. I… met someone.”

“Hmm,” Geralt encouraged.

“He’s, well, he’s different. I’ve never met anyone like him, and I really like him.” Jaskier looked strangely vulnerable between them, nervous as he thought about his feelings for this other man. Geralt, as always, wanted to give him everything.

“Well, ask him out and when you feel like he’s ready, invite him to dinner so we can meet him,” Geralt told him, and that was that.

The next day, Jasker texted them ‘He said yes! Date tomorrow ❤️’ and from then on they heard about nothing but Jaskier’s new boyfriend.

“Raddy has the best taste in wine.”

“Raddy looks so good in furs.”

And once, looking particularly rumpled as he came back to their apartment after a date, hickies showing under his collar, “Raddy loves my new song.”

It’s just under two weeks from their first date that Jaskier finally tells them “Raddy is eager to meet you, so I invited him to dinner tomorrow night.”

Yennefer was pulling dinner out of the oven while Geralt set the table, so she had her back to the door when Jaskier walked in with his guest. “We’re here! I’m so excited for you to meet!” As she closed the oven door, she heard Geralt make a noise of surprise and shock. Curious, she turned to see for herself and her jaw dropped when she recognized Jaskier’s guest.

After he quickly introduced everyone, Yennefer linked her arm around Jaskier’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Would you excuse us for a moment?” She tugged Jaskier into the bedroom, leaving Jaskier’s two boyfriends making awkward and stilted conversation in the kitchen.

“Isn’t he great?” Jaskier asked.

“Yes,” Yennefer answered, as calmly as she can, “he’s really something. But tell me, Jaskier, in the past two weeks, you’ve called him your spoon, a knife, the only music critic worth listening to, and even your ‘little love rat.’ So I ask you: why did I have to wait until he’s standing in my kitchen to find out that you are dating the crown prince of Redania?”