“Of all things, you would have thought that the rain was innocuous enough. Turns out, nothing is innocuous in this Gods forsaken place!” geralt and reader, if your still taking requests!
Hey anon! I’m sorry this is a bit later than I would’ve hoped, but this prompt took some figuring out. In the end, I went for a witcher!reader (I kept it genderneutral, since you didn’t specify. I hope that’s okay). Not sure how it came out, but I hope you like it anyway!
Prompt: 47. “Of all things, you would have thought that the rain was innocuous enough. Turns out, nothing is innocuous in this Gods forsaken place!”
Warnings (start after the cut): canon-typical violence, brief description of animal killing, graphic description of blood and injury, swearing, (feral) witcher!reader. Phew, this is on the angsty side. I needed to get that out of my system, clearly.
Tumblr Request Masterlist
You don’t really know how you ended up in this place, much less how you and your companion will find a way out of here. You hear Geralt curse next to you, which only has you rolling your eyes at him. Like cursing and sulking will be any help at all. You bite back the sardonic comment sitting at the tip of your tongue, because as much as you like to think otherwise, your sarcasm won’t improve your situation either.
You re-adjust the two swords strapped to your back and thumb your medallion the way you always do when you’re feeling jittery before a hunt. You feel the Cat-shaped pendant vibrate as you take several steps into the unknown territory you and Geralt portalled into. Your mutated green-yellowish eyes and your keen ears are alert as you take in your surroundings. The place seems deserted, but you know better than to lower your guard. In your line of work, danger is always just around the corner.
“I told you not to step through that stupid portal,” Geralt grouses next to you. You heave a long-suffering sigh and level him with an unimpressed glare.
“For the last time, I thought it was our only way out of there,” you tell him before returning your attention to the strange environment. Everything is quiet… too quiet. “Besides, the toxic fumes were filling the room and we would’ve died of asphyxiation. You’re welcome.”
“Fuck, Y/N. Can’t you see this is a trap?”
“Of course it’s a trap,” you snap, whirling around so you can face Geralt and glower at him, “but we’re alive, aren’t we, which we wouldn’t be if we stayed in that godsforsaken cave!”
“You don’t know that!”
“You didn’t have to follow me,” you challenge him as you step up to him until your faces are mere inches apart, “you could’ve stayed in that cave and died, for all I care! So don’t blame me for your predicament. You had a choice to make, and you made it! End of discussion.”
You feel your anger coursing hotly through your veins, but you will yourself to calm down by taking a few controlled breaths. Now is not the time to lose yourself - you need to be alert, and ready to fight whatever monster decides to attack you first. It turns out neither of you have to wait all that long for the first ambush. You hear the growling of wolves before you see them. You and Geralt both unsheathe your silver swords at the same time, eyes riveted on the pack currently surrounding you.
“Ready?” you ask, a feral grin spreading on your lips as you feel the anticipation rise in you with each passing second.
“Always,” Geralt replies before stepping forward and piercing the first wolf with his sword. Instinctively, you bounce onto the ball of your feet and run in the opposite direction towards your half of the pack. Your movements are light and graceful as you bring your sword far above your head, then down with enough brute force to decapitate the first beast. Before a second wolf can jump at you, you pirouette out of the way, then slash at the wolf’s belly. A third and fourth one flank you, but you manage to roll out of the way in the nick of time. You make quick work of the remaining wolves, and when you turn around to check on Geralt, you see the other witcher panting heavily among a heap of dead wolves. Your eyes meet, but he doesn’t match your giddy grin.
Geralt, always the soft-hearted son of a bitch.
“Let’s go,” you urge him as you wipe the blood off your sword with the hem of your shirt, “like our instructors at Stygga said, where there’s a way in, there has to be a way out.”
You hear Geralt grumble something unintelligible under his breath, but you decide to ignore him in favour of searching for said way out. As far as you’re concerned, he can either be part of the problem, or part of the solution. You know which side you picked. Eventually, Geralt falls into step with you, and the two of you scan your surroundings in a companionable silence. While Geralt seems unsettled and nervous, you find yourself smiling as you saunter through these strange lands. You always affectioned chaos more than order, anyway. Chaos is your element.
You know Geralt doesn’t feel that way, but that’s why you two are the perfect match. Opposites attract, or so they say.
After a while of walking around the place and not encountering other enemies, you’re beginning to think that whoever is in charge of this place wants to toy with you and Geralt. A mage is behind this, there’s no doubt about that, and a clever one at that. They, whoever they might be, must be observing you from afar. It’s like an elaborate game of cat and mouse. The thought makes you smile, and you thumb your medallion again.
You always enjoyed a good mouse chase.
Eventually, something begins to change. The world around you darkens as black clouds roll in over your heads, heavy with the promise of rain and thunder. When the first drop of water hits your skin, you feel an unfamiliar itch right where it hit you. Not thinking much about it, you poke your tongue out and catch the raindrop that hit your lips. The tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth… and that’s when you see it. This is no regular rain. This is a shower of blood.
How very dramatic!
“Of all things, you would have thought that the rain was innocuous enough,” Geralt shouts over the low rumbling of thunder, “turns out, nothing is innocuous in this Gods forsaken place!”
“Geralt, look!” You point north, where your keen eyes caught the sight of something shimmering in the distance. “The portal! Run, we don’t have much time.”
You sprint in that direction, confident that Geralt will be close behind you - or at least, you hope he is. You don’t look back and make a beeline for the portal in the distance. The rain falls harder, lightning hitting the ground right next to your feet. It is only thanks to your feline-like reflexes that you manage to dodge the treacherous strikes. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see that Geralt has caught up with you and is expertly sidestepping various monsters the mage conjured out of nowhere. The portal is just within reach. You’re almost there… almost…
Then you hear it. The distinct sound of something tackling Geralt to the ground. You stop dead in your tracks, your eyes darting between your freedom and the witcher you have come to care very deeply about. Your heart is racing in your chest… the choice really shouldn’t be so difficult.
“Y/N!” you hear Geralt call out to you, “Y/N, save yourself!”
He’s giving you permission to leave him. You briefly consider doing just that, your eyes lingering on the portal. You think that if you’re fast enough, you’ll be able to make it. But a small voice inside your voice tells you that this is more than that. This is the mage toying with you both now. Why else would the portal remain open for so long? Whoever they are expect you to leave Geralt behind… and you won’t give them that satisfaction. You unsheathe your sword and fight off the beasts - nekkers, as it turns out - tackling Geralt to the ground.
“What are you doing?” he roars, and there’s a desperate edge to his tone that you’re unfamiliar with, “Y/N, save yourself! The portal…”
You ignore Geralt’s protests as you feel your blood rage consume you. Geralt’s voice dies in his throat at the sight of you butchering the group of nekkers which a few seconds ago had been pinning Geralt to the ground. You aren’t aware of your own movements anymore, your emotions having well and truly taken over your instincts and lowered your inhibitions. Only when you’ve killed every last nekker do you hoist Geralt to his feet and pull him towards the portal once more.
You don’t know how you made it in time - perhaps the mage took pity on you - but the next thing you know, you feel yourself fall through the portal. You feel like being dragged through space and time by a hook attached to your navel. It’s uncomfortable and painful, but over within several seconds. The air in your lungs is knocked out of you when you hit the ground with brute force. You hear the distinct snapping of bones as both you and Geralt collapse on the forest floor, followed by pained groans falling from both your mouths.
“Fuck!” he curses breathily, “That was close.”
“Too fucking close.” You hiss as you try to push yourself up onto your knees. “Shit! There go my ribs.”
“Tell me about it. I think I broke my arm.”
“We’ll live,” you state conversationally, as if you were discussing the weather. A near hysterical laugh pushes past your lips. “Shit, Geralt. I was right. I told you if there’s a way in, there’s always a way out.”
You watch Geralt roll onto his side and sit up, face pulled in a pained frown as he cradles his broken arm to his chest. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, caked in dry blood from the torrential rain, giving Geralt a near feral look. You guess you don’t look in much better shape if the look in his amber eyes is anything to go by. You manage to crawl up to him and catch his lips in a sloppy kiss.
“Thank you,” he whispers in a gravelly voice in between heated kisses, “for coming back for me.”
“Don’t let it get to your head,” you tell him, “you’d have done the same for me. You wolf witchers are all self-sacrificing bastards.”
“Only for the people who deserve it,” Geralt adds as he cups your face with the hand attached to his good arm, “make of that what you will.”
You offer a kinder smile, your eyes softening as you take in the sight of your lover. You’re both alive. You both made it. Not that you ever doubted that for a second. Well… maybe for a tiny second.
“I’ve told you before. I can be very likeable, when I’m amenable to it.”
Hello and congrats on 800 followers!!! Could I ask for an Eskel x female cat Witcher!reader with prompts 3 or 5? Thanks 😊
Hi anon! Thanks so much and thanks for this really fun combination of prompt. Here’s my little silly take on cat!witcher!reader x Eskel. Hope you like it.
Send your prompt requests here.
Cat!Witcher!reader x Eskel: “it’s really not that complicated” (prompt 3) and “we could get arrested for this” (prompt 5)
“Would you hurry up, wolf?” you urge your travel companion as he struggles to pick a simple lock, “it’s really not that complicated, for the love of the gods.”
“You try and pick a lock in a tight space with little to no natural light,” you hear the witcher known as Eskel snide back. A guttural groan pushes past his lips as he tugs on the lock in his frustration. “Fucking thing!”
“Oh, get out of my damn way,” you snap at him as you squeeze yourself into said tight space, elbowing Eskel in the ribs as you wriggle up to where the lock is resisting the wolf witcher, “here, watch an expert at work.”
“Why am I not surprised that you Cat witchers know how to pick locks?” Eskel punctuates his words with a pointed eyeroll.
“At least Guxart taught us some street smarts. What do you bring to the table, your theoretical knowledge of monsters? Your working knowledge of poetry? How’s that gonna help, you gonna bore the guards to death by reciting a couple of verses?”
“Fuck you.”
“Make me,” you hiss in response, but your mood quickly brightens when you hear the familiar ‘click’ sound as the lock yields under your nimble fingers. You pull on it harshly and manage to open the trap door, your only escape out of these dungeons. “Hah! Where does that take us?”
“Sewers, judging by the stench,” Eskel remarks, his nose scrunching up in distaste. You can’t help but agree with your companion on this one. “Beggars can’t be choosers, I guess.”
“Let’s go, then.”
With the agility worthy of your namesake, you jump down yet another hole tight and land on your feet and hands. You keep this position long enough to assess your surroundings, your yellow-green eyes picking up every movement without needing to use a Cat potion. Unlike Eskel, who is probably downing one as you wait for him to follow you into the sewers. Once you are satisfied that there is no immediate danger, you rise to your full height and silently slip along the humid walls. You hear rats squeaking in the distance and scattering as the sound of Eskel landing next to you spook them.
“Any idea which direction we should be taking, street-smarts?”
“Well, the exit was north-west of our cell, so I’m gonna take a wild guess and say we should be heading that way,” you point in the direction you were referring to, “you got your swords?”
“Duh,” is all Eskel offered in response, “do you think so little of me?”
“Do you want an honest answer to that question? C’mon, we’ve wasted enough time waiting for you to drink that stupid Cat potion.”
You ignore Eskel’s grumbled response and take off without another word. You and Eskel have known each other for years. You first met on the path after he saved you from a particularly aggressive female wyvern. The beast was in heat and very territorial, and she did not appreciate anyone interrupting her mating rituals. There had been no contract on her head, you just happened to have the worst of luck. After Eskel saved you, he could hardly believe that he was not only standing face to face with a witcher from the School of the Cat, notoriously responsible for the creation of a famously vicious breed of emotionally-volatile assassins, but face to face with a female witcher no less. Your school often trained women, but very few of those were put through the trials and even fewer survived. You managed to beat the odds. You’re exceptionally good at what you do, which is why you and Eskel got along so well.
After months of travelling together, and after a boozy night following a successful contract, you and Eskel became lovers. At first, it was purely physical, but as the months bled into years you realised that it was nice to have someone to go back to after an exceedingy shitty year on the Path. You started to miss Eskel after prolonged periods of not seeing each other and that’s when you admitted to yourself that it had stopped being purely physical a long time ago. You couldn’t let Eskel know, though. It would only get to his head. That’s why you settled for the tough love approach instead. It worked fine. Eskel had yet to run away.
Your train of thought is interrupted when you hear the familiar hiss of drowners in the darkness. You and Eskel simultaneously unsheathe your swords and brace yourself for an attack. One drowner sneaks up on Eskel from behind, but you notice it first out of the corner of your eyes and blast Igni in its face. In the meantime, Eskel hacks off the arm of another beast before running his silver sword through its abdomen, killing it with one powerful thrust. In the distance, you hear the echoes of more drowners heading your way.
“Shit. We need to fucking hurry.”
You run blindly through the labyrinth of underground tunnels. The truth is that neither of you knows where the exit is, or if there even is an exit. There has to be, you reason, the sewers always lead somewhere. Traditionally to a river, at least. There had to be an exit, or else the underground tunnels would be flooded and you would be swimming in shitwater by now. The fact that you aren’t is a fucking sign right? Right?
“There? You feel that?” Eskel suddenly speaks and instantly every hair on your body bristles in anticipation.
“Feel what?”
“A draught.” Yes. You do feel it now that Eskel mentioned it. “Follow me. Turn to the left.”
You follow Eskel through the sewers, and to the relief of you both, you’re running away from the nest of drowners rather than towards it. Under any other circumstance neither of you would’ve shied from a group of drowners, but you were trying to escape and not draw more attention to yourself. Some other witcher, one that was preferably not wanted in Temeria, could take care of that one.
“We’re getting closer,” you say when your nose picks up the smell of fish and seawater, “we’ve almost made it.”
You and Eskel reach an opening several frantic minutes later, at once out of breath but also relieved that you managed to find your way out of those dungeons. It’s dark outside, which will help you and Eskel escape without raising too much attention, or so you hope. You both manage to exit the sewers soundlessly. Even Eskel with his impressive size manages to stealth his way past guards and civilians alike. Not as flawlessly as yourself, mind you, but you weren’t one to brag.
Well, maybe a little bit, but there would be time for boasting later.
“Hey look, there’s some horses there,” you tell him, your voice too quiet for any mortal ear to pick up but you knew Eskel could hear you loud and clear.
“No. I need to get back to Scorpion.”
“Oh good gods - really? Eskel, we don’t have time for this. Scorpion is stabled near the city gates… at the other side of fucking town.”
“I’m not leaving Scorpion.”
With that, Eskel takes off in the opposite direction, leaving you to ponder whether you should follow him or go your own way and hope that your paths will cross again eventually. Fuck it, who are you kidding, you wouldn’t let that idiot risk his life for a stupid horse on his own. Well, if he gets caught you might just let him ride it out for a while… you know, just to teach him a lesson.
You follow Eskel’s trail, making sure to remain unseen. Your hand reaches up and touches your witcher medallion, shaped in the form of a cat’s head, something you’ve done since the trials to ground you, to calm your nerves. After what felt like the longest fucking chase ever, you see Eskel pressed against the wall of the stables that you recognise as the place you two had left your horses in two days ago when you first arrived. Eskel peeks around the corner, checking for guards, and when he’s satisfied that he hasn’t been spotted he climbs up the side of the building at a surprising speed. You curse under your breath, but follow him up onto the roof of the building.
“You know we could get arrested for this?” you tell him once you reach the top. Eskel raises an eyebrow, a mocking grin tugging at the scarless corner of his lips. Anticipating his smartass remark, you hiss: “I’ve just sneaked out of a dungeon, I don’t fancy another trip through those sewers.”
“Don’t worry, this won’t take you long.”
“Me? Whatever do you mean, me?” Your eyes land on the chimney and its opening, too narrow for Eskel to fit through, but not too narrow to fit… you. Oh, the bastard was going to pay for this. When you turn to glare at your companion, all you can see is the protruding lower lip and the pleading eyes.
“No…”
“Please? Scorpion means the world to me.”
“What about me?” you snap, forcing yourself to look away or risk falling for Eskel’s pretty face all over again, “don’t I mean the world to you?”
“Of course,” he says, his tone growing softer, “and I’m sure if the situations were reversed, Scorpion would do the same for you.”
“Urgh, fine!” you eventually relent despite the absurdity of Eskel’s last comment, “but you owe me for this.”
To this day you don’t know how you and Eskel didn’t get caught sneaking a massive war stallion out of the stables, nor how you two managed to escape the guards at the city gates. It certainly made for an interesting story that winter when you and Eskel travelled back to Kaer Morhen.
Lambert relentlessly teases you for ‘growing too soft’ and ‘being wrapped around Eskel’s little finger’, but when you see the open adoration written plainly on Eskel’s face as soon as he and you retreat back to his room, well, you simply don’t find it in yourself to truly mind all that much.
