Witcher Geralt - Blog Posts

Gonna miss Henry Cavill’s Geralt when the new season drops

Witcher + Bard nap time (they desperately need it)

Happy extremely late Father’s Day

Playing Vampire's Fall and then suddenly:

A Witcher reference

Bugs in games are not only funny, but also cute.

Absolutely obsessed right now

Brother Love

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Masterlist

Summary: Young!Kaer Morons duelling because they have big egos Warnings: Swearing; Possibly bad descriptions of combat A/N: I need more fanfics of the young witchers, please get out there everyone and do the lords work. Also I know that in canon the story between how Lambert and Aiden met is different but I thought this would be cuter.

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“Ugh, just looking at his sly smile makes me wanna punch him in the face”

“Your’s isn’t any better though.”

“The punching isn’t exclusive to him, you know?” 

Geralt’s lips twisted into a grin as he heard the agitated voices of his brethren. He wiped the sweat off his brow after he fastened the Reins of Roach to the post right outside the fortress of Kaer Morhen. “They’re just mad cause I’m better than them- isn’t that right girl?” He patted the horse's mane lovingly before pulling an apple out of the knapsack which was hanging from the saddle and feeding it to the chestnut colored mare.

Having decided that he had eavesdropped enough, Geralt made his way up the stairs and into the large stronghold that he called his home. Even though the entrance hall seemed intimidating at first, he had learned to love the sheer vastness of it all and most of all, it was the people with whom he was sharing this particular space with that made him appreciate it. 

Although the very same people had been gossiping about him just before they heard the massive wooden doors creak as they were shoved open. 

“Your favorite Witcher has returned everyone!” Geralt winked at the two boys sitting at one of the two long tables, Lambert greeting him with a roll of the eyes. 

“Oh please, hold back on the applause Gentlemen! Lest I confuse you with one of the plenty maidens which nearly started brawling at the opportunity to simply share a few words with me!”

In a gesture of feigned modesty, Geralt threw up his arms as he stepped toward the two. 

“I need you to jump out of a window.” Lambert’s face screamed ‘unimpressed’ while he watched Geralt sit down next to him, cockily reaching for his mug of mead and taking a sip as if it was his own.

“Lambert’s just mad ‘cause he embarrassed himself on the contract, don’t worry about it.” 

Eskel smirked, seemingly recounting what had happened earlier today, ignoring the grumbling coming from the boy in front of him.

“What? Fell face first into the mud while trying to dodge a Drowner?” The white haired boy nudged the other with his elbow, taking another swig.

“That happened like when? 5 years ago? Besides, it’s not my fault that these slimy bastards love the swamp..”

Lambert snatched the mug from Geralt's hands, shooting him a challenging look which Eskel immediately recognized. “Oh no, don’t embarrass yourself Lam.” Duels were no novelty among the brothers. Vesemir’s original notion for those was to show the witchers what they lacked and could improve on yet often a simple training session would just result in a power show for the juvenile boys.

Geralt’s gaze wandered from Eskel back to Lambert who was still staring daggers at him. A smile crept to his lips. 

“You wanna go?” 

Lambert took one last swig of the mug before harshly letting it collide with the wooden table beneath him, wiping any excess alcohol off of his mouth. 

“You bet, pretty boy”

A few light hearted quips and glares later, the boys found themselves in the courtyard. The setting sun casting a mesmerizing hue of golden over the land and illuminating their faces.

Eskel stood to the side, sighing before clasping his hands together. He knew he couldn’t change the minds of both of his brothers, the only thing he could do was pray that Vesemir wouldn’t return any time soon or else he wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

“Alright guys!” Eskel raised his voice, something he still wasn’t quite comfortable with. 

“No magic, no grabbing off the actual swords-” Eskel’s gaze wandered from his brothers to the sword stands just a few meters away. 

“These wooden things make me feel like I’m a child..” Lambert mumbled under his breath, turning the wooden sword in his hands.

“And most importantly!” Lambert and Geralt looked expectantly at Eskel, both eager to finally begin.

“No biting and no hair pulling.”

“Aw c’mon, hair pulling is like the only good thing” 

“I’m the only one who has hair, you dork ass loser.”

“Not after I’m done with you!”

Once again, Eskel sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. He really prayed that Vesemir wouldn’t return any time soon. 

“Okay, to make up for the hair pulling:”

His brothers turned to him once again, their interest clearly piqued.

“How about you bet on something?” 

The proposal was instantly met with joy and as Geralt seemed to think hard about what he wanted Lambert to do, the other was quick as always:

“If I win, Geralt has to shave his head.”

“No fucking way.” 

“Yeah way, pretty boy.”

Lambert blew the white haired one a kiss, winking at him with a mischievous look in his eyes. The image of a bald Geralt seemingly enough to motivate him. 

“Geralt, you got anything in mind?” 

He absentmindedly scratched his chin (partly to emphasize the faint facial hair which the others weren’t able to grow yet. 

“If i win..” he began dramatically, leaving a pause in which he intensely stared at the boy across from him. 

“Lambert has to ask Aiden to accompany him for an entire day of contracts.” 

The grin which Geralt was wearing on his face was dirtier than if he actually fell into horse feces.

It was no secret that there had been something happening in Lambert's mind when they had that school exchange two years ago. Aiden was a fellow witcher from the school of the cat and while Eskel went to said school for about six months, Aiden had stayed in Kaer Morhen with Geralt and Lambert, training alongside them. 

The subject of whether or not Lambert fancied the boy had become good teasing material for Geralt and Eskel and yet, the youngest at least tried to seem nonchalant about it but apparently this time, Geralt's bargain was of another caliber. 

Lambert's face twisted for just a split second and there was an unfamiliar redness that lightly tinted his cheeks. One that a regular human wouldn’t have noticed, his brothers were anything but regular though, to his dismay. 

“Tz, why would that be a problem?” 

Lambert couldn’t get more unlucky with the way his voice cracked right when spoke. It only took one exchange of looks between the white haired boy and the brunette standing to the side for them to erupt into laughter. 

“What the fuck is your problem? I don’t see an issue!” 

After about two minutes of continuous laughter, Eskel wiped a tear from his eye, trying to regulate his breathing while Geralt mockingly repeated the voice crack.

“Alright, okay!” 

Geralt took one last shaky breath, readying himself for the duel in which he would give his all. The image of Lambert nervously asking someone out while he could watch with a self satisfied grin filled him with the determination to win. 

“Ready, Set, GO!”

Within milliseconds, their swords collided. Both of them change sides, their eyes locked in an intense game of guessing. Either one anticipating or better, waiting for the other to make a move. 

Just as Geralt had thought, Lambert took a small step forward, switching the weight from one foot to the other, raising his sword, trying to go for a strike which Geralt hurriedly parried.

Another strike, this time from above. Geralt took a few small steps back, making sure he kept himself steady.

As his sword collided with that of his youngest brother, he saw an opportunity. It was destined to fail but if he was quick enough he could strike him fast enough for him to become panicked. 

With one determined push, the white haired boy set to attack:

Parry. 

This time Geralt went for a lower stab while simultaneously blocking another attempt at a slash from Lambert. Swiftly, Geralt jumped to the side, giving him an advantage:

He struck again. This time, Lambert barely managed to block with the sword guard. 

The splinters were flying from the wooden weapons, Eskel had already taken multiple steps back so as to not get any more injuries to his face than he already had. 

Suddenly, Lambert went for a stab that Geralt just managed to jump away from. 

Both of them were beginning to become aggressive which meant that he had to be even more careful and regain a sense of calmness. 

It was a risky attempt but in his rush, Geralt decided to go for a broad slash, one that almost landed were it not for Lambert's quick reflexes. The younger one jumped backwards.

Now it seemed like Lambert had also noticed his impatience, the two boys were now standing across from each other, circling and watching. 

“I can’t wait to watch you talk to Aiden..” Geralt winked at him. Although he was talking, his attention was fully focused on the movement of his opponent. 

“Shut up dude.” Lambert wasn’t fazed by Geralt's attempt of distraction, guess he had to pull out the big ones, he thought. 

“Oh Aiden, it seems that my horse isn’t fit enough to be ridden..” The white haired mocked in a higher voice, another smile on his lips as he could hear Eskel cackling in the background. 

He closely studied Lambert's grip, ever so slightly tightening, his pulse quickening by just a smidgen. 

“You wouldn’t mind if I rode with you and held onto you and your strong, muscled biceps, would you?” 

Ah, there it was, Geralt thought as he parried a wave of slashes, pushing down the blade of his now agitated brother. 

He went for a stab and although it didn’t land, he was now in a position to win.

Geralt went for another slash, which Lambert parried but led him to believe he had an opening. 

The strike from above was dodged swiftly as Geralt ducked underneath the arm of the other and struck a fatal blow to the other ones side.

“FUCK!” 

“You suck.” 

Geralt put a hand on the shoulder of Lambert who was just staring at the ground now, his sword falling to his side. 

“You fought well though, don’t worry.”

“Thanks..” 

The youngest patted Geralt's hand on his shoulder and wiped the sweat off of his brow. 

“Guess Aiden will be a lucky man next time we visit… Ouch what the fuck you asshole?” 

And there it was, the hair pulling. 

“Eskel! Do something!” Geralt struggled to remove Lambert's hand from the tight grip he had on his roots, his scalp burning already. 

“The duel is over, the rules aren’t set anymore!” 

“Yeah you heard him! No rules anymore you cheap Amor!” 

“Just what is going on here?” 

Nothing froze the boys up as effectively as the authoritative voice of a certain mentor. 

Geralt let out a sigh of relief as the deathgrip on his hair was removed. 

“Stand straight you three!” 

Almost like they were the most obedient soldiers in the army, all three of them lined up, statues as straight as if they had been hammered into stone. 

“Eskel, just what the fuck have these two done?”

Vesemir seemed more fed up than anything rubbing the bridge of his nose in disbelief. 

Lambert and Geralt shot Eskel a pleading look, he could just rat them out, tell the truth about why they started the duel. 

Eskel sighed once again. “We thought it would be a good idea to train a bit more, we wanted to show you that we could be unsupervised and still work on our abilities.” 

Alright, both Geralt and Lambert thought, they would take over all of Eskel’s chores for the month. 

“Well that is noble.. And how’d that work out?” 

Vesemir narrowed his eyes at the few strands of white hair that clung to Lambert's glove, who just gave him a sheepish look in return. 

“Well,” Lambert began. “We simply wanted to emulate all different kinds of situations, like what if someone grabbed you by your hair in the middle of a fight?” He wanted to emphasize his point by putting his hand on Geralt's head once again, yet the older one just flinched at the gesture, shooting him a look that would definitely kill if Lambert hadn’t been his brother.

Vesemir looked unimpressed but eventually just signaled the boys to follow him inside. 

As Lambert and Geralt ran past Eskel and Vesemir to take over Eskel’s dinner duty, they heard Vesemir call out to them:

“And by the way Lambert.”

The boy turned around to the old Witcher.

“Eskel is way better at lying than you are.”

Your Voice Remains

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Masterlist

Summary: Young!Geralt is reminded of his mother Warnings: Angst; vulnerable Geralt A/N: This was the result of a heavy writers block so please have mercy on my poor soul

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There was it again, this feeling which bubbled up in him. It was like it started right from his quietly beating heart and spread throughout his entire body. 

First his legs would stop obeying his command and he would pause in the middle of whatever he was doing. Next were his arms and hands which immediately dropped to his sides while everyone who looked upon him would immediately believe him to have heard something important, his superior senses making out the quietest of whimpers or footsteps. An alert witcher on his job, looking out for any monsters he might have to slay in order to gain some coin.

This feeling though, which felt more like a paralysis, would cause all of his senses to freeze. And as his eyes refused to avert from the scene before him, his throat began to tighten and his eyes started to burn. 

The first time this had happened he had been worried. Had he been poised? But how could this be possible? 

“Geralt?” their voices he had barely recognized, the sound of his own breathing filling his ears and consuming everything around him. His vision blurry like a memory he had already forgotten. 

A memory.

A memory he had already forgotten but was reminded of every time he saw her. He saw her in every woman that tended to her children. 

calm lullabies which called him to this unknown but still longed for comfort, like a hug he had never gotten but oh so desperately needed. 

As he watched the young boy and his mother in the garden of the small village he had been sent to, he found himself unable to move. 

Why was he forced to stand here? An outsider, a mutant and a freak. Stripped from every warm embrace he might have had if he had had the opportunity to lead a normal life. 

Did she abandon him? Was it like Vesemir had told him so many moons ago? He had believed him for a while without ever questioning it again. 

His mother had abandoned him, couldn’t care for him without having to sacrifice herself so she left him behind. 

Geralt never thought of her, why would he? She probably starved in that harsh winter in which he had been found. 

Yet one single dream had him in a chokehold. 

A young boy, staring back at his own reflection in the water, brown strands of hair falling into his eyes. 

"Geralt? Come now, we want to be back before dusk!”

“Coming!” 

The ground shifted beneath him and suddenly he was looking up at a woman. A woman he had never seen before and yet when she smiled he had been filled with a warmth that he was too shy to describe to any of his brothers let alone Vesemir. 

He awoke drenched in sweat. The sweet image that was still fresh in his mind horrified him more than any monsters he had ever fought, human or creature. 

And just as he did back when he sat up in his bed, he whispered to himself

"Mother.."

I'm sorry (no I'm not), but all about Jaskier screams "I'M GAY"