☜ The Witcher Imagines ☞

Imagine Geralt feels helpless as he watches you waste away

Request

Ponies with the silhouette of sparkles rode around your vision like a carousel, their mane's whipping around in the unusually calm air as you smiled up at the magic. Geralt in the meanwhile was wavering his fingers to create the illusion, hoping it was enough to tickle your lips into that smile he adored.

After finding you abandoned as a new born amongst a desolate, snow blanketed forest he knew you'd hold a significance in his life even when he denied it.

You were his daughter in every sense of the word.

The Witcher can remember helping you with your first steps, suddenly becoming embarrassed at the memory. He can recall sitting in a rented room with his legs crossed as he cooed and extended his arms toward the few month old baby stumbling his way.

Geralt could remember your first words, feel the tingle of your voice in his ears. He was coming back from a limited hunt, trying to keep close to the clearing he'd left you in and when he returned the only word he heard was: Papa. You were jumping on the grass with your chubby legs frail and wiggling as you sucked on your fingers.

He could even remember the day when he suddenly realised you had your own personality and time had suddenly flew by. Your (H/C) hair was plaited back by an Innkeeper's wife and your dress was sunflower yellow (one you'd picked out at a festival market). Initially, he'd wanted you to wear something darker, something that didn't catch attention until you screamed and cried for it.

Now, he would do anything to hear a tantrum for something as trivial as a dress. He wanted you to cry for that little, white bandana you forced him to buy, not cry from the pain plaguing your body.

"Papa..." you croaked from your bed, your forehead drenched in sweat as you attempted a smile.

"Yes, Buttercup" he smiled while gently looking down on you, his eyes like the sun and his hands soft as they ran through your hair.

"Am... Am I going to die Papa?", a sob threatened to break from your lips.

You were only ten, there was still so much to see, so much to do. You were meant to stay beside Geralt, enhance your power, be forever youthful beside him and -god forbid- fall in love.

"No, Buttercup, you're not going to die" Geralt lied through a comforting, soft tone.

A cry shook your chest, "you lie Papa!".

Geralt cradled you close to his chest as you wailed, your frail arms barely able to hold him back as you muted your sobs into his chest.

"I don't lie, you know that my darling. You won't die, you'll...-" Geralt's words paused for thought, "- you'll see your mama, maybe even your real Papa".

"I don't want my real Papa! I want you!",

"I know Buttercup...",

"I don't want the worms to eat me Papa, I don't want to be in the dark. Why do I have to go alone?", You chest hurt as you spoke, constricting with stabbing pains for heartbeats.

Hurt, anguish, torture: that's all you felt as you drifted into your fatigue.

"You won't be alone, Buttercup. I'll be there when everything is over, I'll hold a torch and lead you where there's castles, ponies and all the pretty dresses you want",

Your eyes opened slightly to reveal the pretty, (E/C) that always made him smile.

"Even the blue one I saw on the princess?" You wondered, managing a grin as you looked up at your Papa. In that moment you could swear you saw tears stinging his amber eyes.

"Even the blue one" he reassured.

With the memory of the pretty princess running in her rose garden, you felt a sudden migraine invade your mind and throat close.

You always saw your Papa kill animals for food and he made sure it was painless as possible, making sure they didn't suffer because they were innocent. Weren't you just an innocent child? Why did your brain have to burn with hellfire and suffocate as your Papa held you.

He could barely watch as you writhed in his grasp, scratching his forearm raw as you gasped for air your body refused to inhale.

"I'm sorry Buttercup" He trembled, before his hand shifted to the letter opener sitting on the bedside table.

He kissed your sweat-covered forehead with the gentlest of kisses.

"I love you".

And as the last vowel escaped his quivering lips, the blade pierced through your small chest and broke your heart...

Just as your last breath broke his.

06012020 - 773

This one nearly made me cry, I hope I did it justice.
Thanks for requesting hhyunnie-a, I tried to keep as close to your request as possible and don't think I did that bad if I say so myself.
Requests close tomorrow!
January 7th 2020

Thank you!!! xx