#HE ACTUALLY CALLED HIM JASK

[existential-queeer]

im being so normal about this guys i swear i have never been more normal in my entire life he just called him "jask" im--

[seaoffandoms]

i have screamed the biggest scream that i have ever scrumpt

[wild-blue-wanderlust]

Some Witcher Characters’ Name Meanings

Julian “Jaskier” Alfred Pankratz

Julian means “Jove’s Child”, Jove being an alternate name for Jupiter, the King of the Gods in Roman mythology, their equivalent to the Greek Zeus. I like the mythology reference in his name considering in the Netflix series he references the Muses, Greek Goddesses of inspiration.

Julian can also mean “youthfulness”, which is fun since he doesn’t seem to age.

As pointed out by @kaiseaya — Julian is the only name still in use in Poland, as well as the most common name on here in other countries such as England or Germany, effectively making Jaskier’s Name seem more ‘normal’ in comparison to other names on the list. He’s just a guy.

Alfred means “elf counsellor” and I think this fact has destroyed me. So what if I said he was destined to become the sandpiper? What then?

Pankratz has Greek origins, from pan, meaning ‘all’, and kratein, meaning ‘to rule/to conquer’. So Pankratz therefore means “to conquer all” or “to rule everything”. It’s also said to have German origins.

Jaskier, as everyone in this fandom knows, is “buttercup”, though it was translated as Dandelion in English because “buttercup was too feminine. Buttercups symbolise friendship, joy, and youth. Dandelions represent resilience and hope, and are used to make wishes. Netflix does utilise the ‘dandelion’ name, when he’s referred to as ‘The Dandelion’ while in Radovid’s room in season 3.

Sandpipers are shorebirds that would probably be close to Jaskier’s hometown since it’s coastal. They represent safe travels, adaptability, and long journeys, which fits the role the name was made for.

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Her name should be spelled Jennifer, but was apparently translated as Yennefer to keep the polish pronunciation, rather than having the pronunciation Jennifer would have in the English language.

Jennifer is Welsh, meaning “white ghost” or “fair lady”

It’s derived from Guinevere, who was the ‘beautiful but unfaithful’ wife of King Arthur in British medieval literature/legend

She has the ‘of x’ place name rather than surname. It seems the only characters with this are orphaned characters?

Vengerberg sounds like ‘avenger’ or ‘revenge’. Berg is a common suffix in German place names (where Aedrin is supposedly based on), and it means “mountain”

In the books, her birthname was Janka, which means “god is gracious”. A nickname for Janka is Jenny (read: Yenny) which is likely what would’ve inspired Yennefer

Janka almost reminds me of the name Falka, the Redanian princess accused of being an elf who murdered her family, removed Stregobor’s hands, and was burnt at the stake. In late season 3 we see Falka teaching Ciri to use fire magic, stepping into Yennefer’s role in some ways, teaching Ciri the thing that caused Yennefer herself so many problems

Both of her lovers (Istredd and Geralt) give her a shortened nickname. Istredd calls her ‘Yenna’, Geralt calls her ‘Yen’. This paints Geralt and Istredd as both being two sides of the same coin. Geralt specifically giving a nickname is definitely a love language as, aside from Yennefer, the only other nickname he’s used is Jask for Jaskier

Her other notable nickname is ‘Piglet’, by Tissaia, a name she is referred to as for being in the pigsty when Tissaia met her, that she stops using when she feels Yennefer has earned her respect. This way of teaching, Yennefer uses on Ciri later, calling her ‘My Ugly One’

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt is apparently Germanic in origin, meaning “ruler of the spear”

I like that both him and Jaskier have something to do with ruling somewhere in their names

We know that, at least in the series canon, attributes the name to Vesemir, and is upset by (the hallucination of) his mother using it. We don’t know his birth name

He is not actually from Rivia. We do not know where he is actually from, I don’t think.

To keep up this act of being from Rivia, he picked up a Rivian accent. Rivian accents are looked down upon by other people in the Contient, specially from Aedirn and Temeria

His first choice for his name was Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde

Roger means “famous spear”, Eric means “alone, ruler”. Haute-Bellagarde is French in origins, haute meaning “high” and Bellegarde meaning “beautiful watch tower”

Therefore, Geralt’s original name, in full, would’ve meant “Lone Ruler of the Famous Spear from the High, Beautiful Watch-Tower”

Everyone say thank you Vesemir for making him not do that

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Cirilla, Greek origin (my ‘Ciri and Jaskier are both descendants from Éile and Fjall from blood origin’ headcanon is. It’s doing things). Means “ruler”

Fiona means “white” or “fair”

Fiona is also one of the names Francesca brought up to name her and Filavandrel’s daughter.

Elen is derived from the Greek ‘Helen’, meaning “shining torch” or simply “light”. Helen, as in Helen of Sparta — the ‘face who launched a thousand ships’. The Trojan war was fought to bring her home after she was kidnapped

Riannon is welsh, meaning “great queen” or “goddess”

Calanthe also has Fiona Elen Riannon as part of her name. Pavetta has only Fiona Elen

Ciri has a relative with Riannon as a first name. Riannon had a daughter named Fiona. Those two were connected with Falka. She also has a relative named Elen

Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Caellach

Cahir is Irish, meaning “Battle man” or “warrior”

Mawr means “great” and is Welsh

His mother was named Mawr, which is presumably where he got that name. I have a few trans!Cahir headcanons from this that the world is not ready for

Dyffryn is his family name, also Welsh, meaning “valley”. They were nobles in Vicovaro, owning land named Dyffra.

Caellach is his father’s name, leading me to believe that aep means ‘of’ or ‘son of’.

Caellach is Irish. The fact that his family name is Welsh like his mother’s name, while his father’s name and first name are both Irish, lead me to beliehe that the family name (and by extension the nobility) is the mother’s, but I haven’t read the books so I don’t know for sure

Emhyr Var Emreis

Emhyr is also Welsh, and yet again means “ruler”. It has been pointed out that it’s similar to Emir (Turkish) and amir (Arabic), both of which mean “Commander in Charge”

Emreis is like Emrys, also Welsh, meaning immortal. If this isn’t a surname in the traditional sense but instead a title or epithet, perhaps Var means ‘the’, making him Emhyr The Immortal

His full name, as we learn in s3, is Emhyr Var Emreis Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd

Deithwen being “white flame” in elder speech

Addan, according to the Witcher Wiki, is “dancer/dancing” in the Nilfgaardian language, yn is “on”, and Carn is “tomb”, and Morvudd is “enemies”. We established earlier aep is probably ‘of’

His full name, therefore, is as follows: “Emhyr (Ruler), The Immortal White Flame Dancing on the Tomb of the Enemy”

Duny, the name he used when marrying Pavetta, means “having many sand-dunes”, so I don’t know what that’s about

He called himself the Urcheon of Erlenwald — Urcheon meaning “hedgehog”, and Erlenwald being the forest where he saved Calanthe’s husband (therefore earning Pavetta)

Pavetta

Pavetta is a genus of tropical flower found in Africa and Asia. Latin. The flowers under this genus are white from what I can tell. It apparently also translates to “young leaves”

Reminds me of her colour scheme in the Netflix series, her green dress being the leaves and her light blonde hair being the white flower part

As mentioned before, Pavetta has Fiona Elen, meaning “fair, shining torch”, but she doesn’t have Riannon: great queen. This makes me sad.

Vespula

Vespula is a genus for “social wasps”, their common name being yellow jackets

She’s a wasp, Jaskier is a flower. Wasps are attracted to and pollenate flowers. They were made for each other.

It also comes from Latin ‘vulgaris’ meaning common (as in, common wasp) which is a bit less sweet? Lmao

One of the species under this genus is the cuckoo wasp, and cuckoos symbolise marriage in Greek Myth, as well as being a bird (matching Jaskier’s Sandpiper)

Wasps, in general, symbolise taking control of your life, evolution and progress. However, more general in day-to-day life, they’re seen as annoying and a less-sympathetic version of a bee.

Unlike bees, wasps do not die after stinging you,. They can, and will, sting you repeatedly. (Vespula can, and will, keep throwing Jaskier’s stuff off the balcony. In every adaptation she is a constant)

Fringilla Vigo

Fringilla is another genus. I don’t know why so many of the women have genus names but sure. This is specifically a genus of finches

Finches are quite small, and they’re part of the passerine family which are known for having feet structured specifically for perching

Vigo, aside from being a city in Spain, means “small village” or “settlement”

Philippa Eilhart

Philippa is Greek origin meaning “lover of horses”. The Greek origin specifically here is quite fun because Philipppa shapeshifts into an owl, and Athena, Goddess of Wisdom (Philippa being Redanian intelligence) is associated with owls, while her uncle and Poseidon is associated with horses. Athena also came up with the Trojan horse idea, but I find the Poseidon thing more interesting as Poseidon has a rivalry with Athena, therefore there’s a rivalry between horses and owls, but Philippa, an owl, loves them

Eilhart could be from the Germanic ‘eil’, coming from ‘agil’, meaning “weapon” and ‘hart’ being “strong”, making her “strong weapon”. Alternatively, someone on Reddit also brought up the closeness of ‘eil’ to the German word ‘eule’ which means owl, in which case her last name could mean “strong owl”. Both are fitting in my opinion.

Radovid V

Radovid is Slavic, mainly Polish or Czech, meaning “renowned counsellor”. Both him and Jaskier having ‘counsellor’ in their name means a lot to me.

Other sources say Radovid means “delight to see” — someone remarked that non-Netflix Radovid ‘delights to see others suffer’. Alternatively, it may also mean “to see glory”

Rience

Welsh, apparently derived from Rhiannon, though Rience specifically focuses on the ‘goddess’ meaning of that name, and means “a magical and enchanting goddess”, apparently, which is quite funny to me

However, there was also a Rience in Arthurian legend, the thing that Yennefer’s ‘Guinevere’ comes from. He is an enemy of King Arthur (surely, with Yennefer being the ‘unfaithful wife’ and Rience being the enemy, Arthur would be Geralt? But then who does Yen cheat on him with? The closest thing Geralt has to a Lancelot, or close companion, is probably Jaskier. Oops)

[inexplicifics]

hiiiiiii i’m sososososo into the emphasis you put on names!!! the bit in waca where jask keeps correcting himself from “the white wolf” to “geralt” and the moment in the one where geralt thanks milena for protecting jask and eskel when she makes him laugh and he switches immediately to geralt in her head? incredible. flawless. a million/10! literally i came to send this bc i’m reading tibooa for like the hundredth time and i NEVER NOTICED BEFORE??? how her name in her own head changes to shrike when gilmeth cuts her hair! i’m crying i love them all so much

Thank you so much!

Names - what you call yourself, what others call you, getting to choose them - are definitely a theme with me. Geralt gets 'Warlord' hung on him and hates it, is mostly alright with 'Wolf' because, well, it's accurate and also it's what Eskel calls him (and he likes it from Eskel), and is happy when people are willing to call him by his actual name. Jaskier gets to choose to be Jaskier, not Julian. And as you say, Shrike gets to choose to be Shrike.

[write-ur-wrongs]

Stayaway

In an attempt to get out of funk, here is a very short, not edited, written-directly-into-tumblr, song-inspired grealt x reader fic. Inspired by Stayaway by MUNA (the best band in the world, begging y'all to listen to their music you will be forever changed!!).

*********

"Come on! I know you're home, I followed you!"

The bard was yelling and banging on your door incessantly and you knew you had to answer eventually. The bastard followed you home after all, he knows where you live.

"I'm not home!" you shouted back, delusional.

"Y/N! I may be a fool but I'm not stupid," he replied, and you could hear the familiar smile pulling at his lips, "Now open up! The door and your heart!"

"Jask," you sighed, laughing despite yourself at his poetic antics, "go away!"

"No! I miss you!"

"I'm not home!" you tried again, will wavering.

"Y/N!" he pleaded, and you swore you could hear half that cursed smile pull down into a pout.

You rested your forehead against the door and bit your lip, debating. All the while, your hand betrayed you, reached for the doorknob and turned it open.

Before you knew it, you were face to face with an old friend and while the sight of him filled you with joy, you were also flooded with other, less welcome feelings of remembrance.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, pushing himself into your home and saving you from dwelling on the heavy memories that tried to creep up over you. "You're home, what are the odds?"

"Hilarious as always, Jaskier," you said, closing the door behind him. "What brings you to my little hamlet?"

"Fate, chance, what have you," he said, his cheery demeanor working overtime to cover for his abject curiosity, "The sea called and I had to answer. You know how it is."

"I do, do I?"

"Don't you? I mean you just disappeared... I assumed something called and you, you know, answered?" His tone stayed light, the practiced levity of someone who's spent years buttering people up for information all while staying neutral.

"I guess..." you bit your cheek, busying yourself by playing hostess, and pouring you both a glass of wine, "things changed and I thought, 'hell, why not change too?'"

"Fair enough... oh thank you."

"Of course," you said, taking a sip of wine yourself before guiding you both towards your couch, "but seriously Jaskier, why are you here?"

"Seriously? I was just passing through on my way to Oxenfurt when I saw a familiar face. A face I thought I'd never see again..."

You looked up from your glass then, but immediately regretted it when you met the bard's earnest gaze.

"Yennefer thought she saw you in Novigrad a while back but then... nothing. We thought you were gone for good."

"Jaskier, come on," you pleaded, praying he wouldn't elaborate on who 'we' entailed, while another, less disciplined part of you hoped for the opposite. Maybe if you knew he missed you, maybe if you knew he was looking for you... maybe you could let yourself be found.

No!

"Don't shake your head at me, Y/N. You disappear from the city, you quit your job, no one has seen you at the pub, the library - anywhere!"

"I- I know... but Jask," you stammered, trying to start three sentences at once and fumbling them all.

"I mean, you loved your job, didn't you? And what about us?" he asked, voice cracking slightly. "Gods, was the breakup that bad?"

"The thing is, Jask," you sputtered between large sips of wine, "It wasn't. It was easy, actually. He did what he always does when we fight; scowl, shut down, turn away, and then take it out on our friends. The break was clean."

"If it was so clean, then why did you leave?"

"It's the rest of it! The, the staying away that was, is impossible. If I had stayed and kept going it out with you guys, we'd drink and dance and I'd wonder where he is. Or one moment I'd be at the library studying and the next, Yen be asking me about the breakup and trying to 'cheer' me up by bringing up the good times and next thing you know? I'm answering the door for him when he rolls back into town injured and brooding. I couldn't stand it! I- I couldn't risk it."

"That's -"

"Pathetic? I know."

"No! No, but if there were so many good times, so many reasons to go back then why not-"

"Damn it, Jaskier! This is why I had to leave." You said, gesturing between the two of you before dropping your hand on your lap with a smack. "If I let him back in, then he's not the man who broke my heart anymore. Not the one who told me I was overemotional for being worried when he'd disappear for months. Suddenly everything is fine... until it's not and I'm hurt and alone again."

You felt tears begin to prick the back of your eyes and shoved the heel of your palms into them to force them down.

"Hey... Y/N," Jaskier said, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes and taking them in his. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"It's okay," you said, giving your friends hands a squeeze and looking up to the ceiling, letting your tears fall for a moment, "I'm okay."

"Y/N..."

"Oh alright, but I'll be okay," you amended, laughing at yourself lightly and wiping the tears away. "Jaskier, don't look so sad. I just need time, space, distance... I will be fine."

Your words had little effect on your friend though, who seemed to grow more anxious and sad with every passing moment. You quirked your brow at him and shoved his shoulder playfully, trying to break the mood.

"Jaskier, will you relax?" you asked, desperate to get him to smile now. You really had missed Jaskier and now that he was here, you realized how much you wanted him to stick around.

"Y/N, I'm really sorry." He whispered, refusing to meet your gaze.

You were about to try another lighthearted quip when you heard a knock at your door. Not someone knocking, just a knock. One quick but deliberate rap.

"Who...?" you heard yourself asking, even though you only ever knew one person who knocked on doors like that.

"Y/N, I'm so so sorry," Jaskier kept repeating. "I really didn't know. I never would have told him if I'd known."

Your mouth was bone dry but you couldn't get your hand to reach for your glass of wine. You just kept staring at Jaskier, watching him babble.

"I'll go tell him to leave, Y/N, I'm so sorry," you heard him say, his voice barely registering over the ringing in your ears.

You felt him get up off the couch, your blurred vision registering the now empty spot on the couch only after you heard your door be pulled open.

Every fiber of your being was on fire. You were frozen. You wanted to throw yourself on the floor. You wanted to run to him.

"Y/N..." you heard him say. Fuck he sounded sad. You wanted to hold him, tell him it'll be okay. You wanted to slam the door in his face. You forgive him. You'll never forgive yourself.

Against your better judgement, you felt yourself to turn look towards the front door and your breath caught when you saw him.

Gods above, you thought, he should have stayed away.

[the-hidden-pages]

Kinktober Day 4 - Thigh Riding | Sex Pollen - Jaskier x Fem!Reader

Thigh riding | Sex pollen | Forced orgasm 

Disclaimer: I did interpret “sex pollen” as loose as aphrodisiac - it’s not an actual pollen, it’s a liquid.  Also, it's late, I have work, I did rush a little to get this out but it's better than another day sans post I hope!

Summary: Geralt had warned you of the dangers of consorting with witches. But you had never anticipated the dangers being this.

Warnings: NSFW, Public Sex/Orgies, Aphrodisiac, Dub Con because of the aphrodisiac but they love each other I swear.

Geralt had warned you.

Geralt had warned you of the dangers of witches often enough. Even Yennefer, a witch herself, often advised against mingling with others that dabble in Chaos.

But that didn’t stop Jaskier from accepting the opportunity of performing on behalf of a town’s witch.

It didn’t stop you from attending the gathering in support of him.

Which is how the pair of you wound up in the mansion of the local town’s “healer”, surrounded by townsfolk that were in the know, and various other mages and witches.

Jaskier had sung wonderfully, as captivating as he ever did - and to hold the attention of those as vain as witches and mages was no small feat, you’ll give him that.

As the night went on, he was free to mingle, returning to your side and sip on the wine that was being freely poured, to feast on the foods presented.

“And to think Geralt was worried,” Jaskier scoffed, in his element, overconfident in the way he often became when things were going a little too smoothly.

It didn’t stop you from smiling though, an easy grin matching his on your face. “A worrywart, that one. A white haired worrywart of a Witcher.”

“Isn’t he just? He ought to have more trust in us.”

You chuckled, taking another sip before waving your glass in emphasis. “Did he warn you about the wine?”

“No, what of it?”

“Yennefer mentioned some witches put something in it, an aphrodisiac. Makes the night more fun as it goes on.”

Jaskier made a face, somewhere between a grimace and a grin. “Oh woe is me, a witch’s orgy. Save me, Butcher of Blaviken!”

A snort escapes you as the pair of you take another sip, continuing to pass the time discussing his various adventures with Geralt, his performance, and the various attendees of the soiree.

The conversation carried on easily, until the vibe of the room suddenly, inexplicably, intangibly…Shifted

Suddenly the air was heavier, thicker in a way that was hotter, heavier. It felt as though the voices of the other partygoers was quieting, slowing down. You became more aware of certain things - men sitting with their hands on other women’s thighs, just a little too high. A flush on women’s cheeks that ran a little brighter, went a little further down than the typical blush from too much wine.

And you were very aware of Jaskier sitting beside you.

His thigh lightly touching yours was suddenly scalding you, but in a way that you felt you simply couldn’t move away.

You hadn’t realized you had stopped listening to the conversation entirely until Jaskier called your name.

You met his eyes, ready to apologize, before immediately regretting it.

Were his eyes always so piercing? His hair always so soft? Did you always notice how deeply he unbuttoned his shirt, how noticeable the droplets of sweat were running down it.

Oh.

Oh.

“Jaskier,” you croaked out, suddenly noticing how dry your mouth was. You licked your lips and continued. “Jaskier, the wine. I don’t think Geralt was wrong.”

“Hmm?” the bard only hummed, and you met his eyes again. He was practically in a trance, staring at where your tongue had darted out to wet your lips.

Slowly, around you, you begin to hear soft sighs, and the lower, hushed tones of lovers speaking to one another.

You grow more aware of the unbearable, present, nearly painful heat between your legs, and when you shift, you realize that you’re already drenched.

“Jask…”

The bard reached forward, placing a large, warm, calloused hand on your thighs.

“They spiked the wine,” he breathes out, turning himself enough that his head is resting against yours, words breathing right in your ear and sending chills down your spine.

“Mhm,” your eyes are closed, trying to ignore the stimuli coming from all senses that your body seems hyper aware of. The gasps, the quiet moans, people growing closer.

Jaskier right beside you.

“Darling we can leave right now,” he breathes, hand on your thigh growing tighter, wandering ever so slightly higher. “We can rent a room in the nearest tavern - or two, if you want to wait this out. We don’t have to stay -”

You cut him off, pushing him back. You can see him start to form an apology, but before giving him the chance you stand and move to position yourself on his lap, straddling his legs and capturing him in a frantic kiss.

It’s not coordinated, or careful, or planned. The moment Jaskier’s brain catches up to what you’ve done, he’s immediately pried your lips open with his tongue, tasting you, claiming you, his hand coming around to cradle your head and pull you in deeper. His other hand wanders quickly, greedily, grasping at every inch of you that he can.

You already don’t want clothes in the way.

As quickly as you get on him, you stand again. The bard is dazed, bright eyes nothing but dark pupils gazing at you as you begin to make quick work of your clothes.

It’s the wine, some tiny, miniscule part in the back of your mind speaks. It’s the wine making you strip in front of a room of strangers, the wine making you mount your friend in a fit of desire.

The wine. Only the wine.

It has to be.

Your hands, in their flurry, begin to struggle with the laces, of which Jaskier is far too eager to help you with.

He leans forward, reaching up to help you loosen the corset. As it’s flung somewhere to your side, he makes quick work of your undershirt, your skirts.

Quickly, so quickly it all began, and just as quickly you’re completely nude, with the bard urging you back into his lap.

In your haste, you slip a little, falling to one side and straddling only one of his thighs.

Despite this you moan, jolting slightly as sliding on the thigh offers some friction to your throbbing clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, grasping on to his shoulders tightly, your body moving without your full consent as you seek any form of relief to the growing burn within you.

It’s too much, the feeling of the cotton trousers beneath you, offering a burning friction to satiate your need, the growing groans echoing throughout the entire room. 

It’s not enough, when Jaskier himself lets out a beautiful moan, feeling you begin to soak through his clothes as you claw at him desperately.

“Dove, please,” he begs, leaning forward to pepper your neck and collarbone with bites. Your hips rock faster, until he tugs harshly at your hair, exposing your neck fully as you shout. His teeth mark your neck and his grip remains firm, his other hand wandering down to aide your movements. 

Your mind, in its wine and drug and lust addled haze, can only focus on two things: easing the burn between your legs, and hearing one of his beautiful sounds again.

And so your hand promptly finds his cock, working it through the flap in his trousers and stroking.

Gods is he hard.

It’s his turn to have his head thrown back, to let out a loud, melodic moan to the room to join the symphony of the others’. It’s rougher than you expected, lightly due to his night of signing and shouting boisterously to a room, but hells did it ever manage to turn you on.

You’re rushing it, you know it, he knows it, but somehow no one can bring themselves to mind as you raise yourself up further, straddling him properly once again.

You stare into the bard’s blue eyes, taking in every expression as you sink down fully, gasping as you feel every inch, every curve, every vein. It’s easy, with how wet you’ve become, and within seconds you’re riding him and hard as you can.

He’s eager to help you, hands grasping your hips so tightly they’re bound to leave bruises, controlling your pace and pulling you ever so slightly closer.

“This isn’t,” Jaskier gasped out, between groans and moans bites to your neck. “This isn’t what I wanted for our first night together.”

“You dreamed of this?” You tease half-heartedly, feeling a warmth in your heart bloom despite the absurdity of the situation.

Was this bard really about to give you a love confession whilst balls deep in you in the midst of a sex party?

“Of course,” he moaned, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. “Gods, so many nights I wanted to have you, in the nearest room in a tavern, against the nearest wall, in the midst of camp. There was a plan, wine and dinner and singing and flowers, just us - fuck do that again.”

You reach for his hair, forcefully pulling his head back to meet your gaze.

“We’ll do this again,” you promise, thighs burning as you ride faster, chasing that growing feeling within you. “I’ve wanted it too, and we’ll talk about it when this damned wine isn’t in our heads but Jaskier, please just fuck me right now I’m so close -”

He stops you, hand travelling forward to meet your clit, rubbing in just the right way that has you seeing stars within seconds.

With your high comes his, and you can’t help but whine at the feeling of his cum shooting deep within you, warming you from the inside out as you clutch each other desperately, needly, as though you were the answer to some eternal unasked question.

As the pair of you come down, gasping, panting, your ears pick up the rest of the party beginning to quiet as well. It was almost as if the spell had a time limit, you thought aimlessly.

As you came to, and the sensations began to dull, your mind grew louder.

You had just fucked Jaskier.

You were still sitting on his cock.

As you go to move, his hand holds your hip tightly, and the other travels upwards to brush some hair out of your face, cupping your cheek. His gaze is gentle, kind, but hungry.

“We’ll do it again, you say?” he teases, that overconfident smirk back on his face. You can feel him hardening inside you once again, and you shift as a reflex, causing a burst of heat to ignite in you once again. “What say you to back at the inn?”

********************************************************

They did not give me cannonical aphrodisiac usage at witch parties for nothing.

Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for their Kinktober list this year!

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Here is my thumb at the polling station!! I was gonna take a picture directly outside but someone else was taking a selfie and I felt weird waiting for her to be done. Anyway what do I get in exchange??

HELLO THUMB. I like that you've got a different coloured sign, bravo.

I'm using this opportunity to share some of what might actually be the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. This is the start of chapter two, but... yeah. It's pretty obvious what's going on here. The only context I'll give is that this is post-everything, post-game, "settled down and married and owning an inn in Toussaint".

(I'd also like to thank @spielzeugkaiser for encouraging this one)

Also adding a cut because it's long and I couldn't decide where to cut it off 😅

---

“Geralt, my darling love, my handsome witcher, my saviour of men?”

“What do you want?”

“I— what makes you think I want something?”

“You only use that tone when you want something and it’s—” Geralt shuffled around in bed and peered out of the window. It was still dark out. “Before dawn,” he finished. Paused. “What are you doing up, anyway?”

Jaskier stared down at him, dressed only in a nightshirt which Geralt was fairly certain was his.

“I heard a noise,” he said.

Geralt resisted the urge to pull him back into bed. “You heard a noise.” He repeated, tonelessly.

“Yes. It woke me up,” Jaskier continued. “And now there’s something in the stables.”

With a grumble, Geralt finally sat up. “What is it?”

Jaskier gave him an exaggerated sigh. “Well I don’t know, do I?”

“Why don’t you go check, then?”

“What if it’s a bandit? Or some sort of horrid beasty? You truly can’t expect me to deal with it, can you?”

For a moment, Geralt considered suggesting just that. But Jaskier had a point. He was  famously unhelpful in these sorts of situations. With a sigh, he swung himself out of bed and hastily dressed in the first clothes that he could get his hands on. After a second of consideration, he grabbed his sword as well.

“Come on, then.”

There was a disturbance in the stables, it turned out. Geralt could hear the horses snuffling and pacing - clearly something had spooked them. As they approached the sturdy stone building, Geralt could see that the door was swinging open.

“Stay here,” he muttered towards Jaskier over his shoulder.

“Right-o.”

The stables smelled like horse and sweat. But beneath that, a tang that Geralt didn’t recognise. And beneath that, one he did: blood.

It was too early and he was too tired to fuck about. He gripped his sword, set his shoulders, and called into the dark.

“I know you’re in here,” he said. “Show yourself.” 

At first, nothing happened. And then there was a rustle from the far corner, and a voice.

“Please, m’Lord—” 

A head appeared over the hay. A man. He was all cheekbones and angles, with a thatch of wild untamed hair. Geralt’s first thought was how young he looked. Probably no older than twenty-three or four. He looked terrified, too, and his eyes swept over Geralt in a dance Geralt had grown familiar with. The expression of fear melded from one of being caught, to one of being caught by a witcher.

As the man moved, the smell of blood grew stronger. There was a little cut on his face, just below his eye - which was marred with a huge purple bruise - but that alone wasn’t enough for such a strong scent. Geralt wondered where else he was bleeding from.

He wasn’t a bandit. He didn’t seem particularly dangerous.

“Please,” the man repeated, struggling to his feet. “Please, I’ll just— I’ll go, I swear, I just needed—”

He took a step forwards and immediately toppled, grabbing onto the wall to steady himself. He was clearly more hurt than he was letting on, and he looked exhausted. Geralt wondered how long he’d been running for. What he was running from. When he met the man’s eyes, they were wide and swimming with unspilled tears, and again, all Geralt could think was how young he looked.

Younger than Ciri, even.

Shit. Geralt was going soft. 

“Jask,” he called over his shoulder. “Come here. I need a hand…”

Jaskier’s face appeared in the doorway.

“I’m not sure what you think I can—” his eyes landed on the man. “Oh. Oh, Gods, Geralt, what’s going on?”

Geralt shrugged. “I don’t know. Help me get him inside…”

Jasker, thank Melitele, was better at this than Geralt. He quickly rushed over to the man, wrapped an arm under his shoulders to support him, and started talking to him in a low, calming tone.

“Are you alright? Look, just— you’re going to be okay, yeah? Just lean on me like that—”

Together, they manoeuvred the young man out of the stable and across the yard, his legs threatening to give out with every step.

“Thank you—” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. “Thank you, I don’t— I just— Thank you—”

“That’s quite alright,” Jaskier said, giving him a little squeeze. “What’s your name?”

The man sniffed, and winced.

“Penn.”

[coff-beans]

okay, can I be one of the first ones to say that I LOVE how Geralt is actually thanking Jaskier for his help, he’s making sure to let him know that his efforts are appreciated! This is a huge step from the previous seasons, and after how the second season treated Jaskier. I will admit that I was nervous for this one, but so far I’m loving how much of a more active role Jaskier is playing in the story! 

also, Geralt calling him “Jask” actually got me squealing

[yellowspiralbound]

Since season 3 of The Witcher Netflix comes out tomorrow...here are some of my concerns on adaptation from this season onward. Potential spoilers for the future seasons and definite spoilers for the books. Long post ahead.

The Hansa's Dynamic

I am so worried about how the Hansa is going to be handled in the show. Like shaking in my boots terrified. The showrunners already really messed up Dandelion & Geralt's dynamic...and that's one of the easier dynamics present in the Hansa imo. The dynamic is already going to be screwy because Cahir is a middle aged man and not a petulant teenager if he's present in the Hansa at all (though I think he will be since Emhyr called him and Fringilla out at the end of s2).

Emhyr as a Character

Speaking of Emhyr...I think they might attempt to give him a redemption arc, and I cannot emphasize how bad of an idea that is. They're going to retcon the whole "wanting to impregnate Ciri" bit, which I have mixed feelings on. Like yes, on one hand that's fucking gross but on the other hand, that bit is in there to show how fucked up Emhyr is and why Geralt needs to get to Ciri so quickly; it adds a sense of urgency to the Hansa's travels. If I see Emhyr sympathizers on my dash after this season I will lose my fucking mind.

Milva's Pregnancy & Related Scenes

I suspect that Milva's pregnancy is going to be cut entirely or play up the rest of the Hansa's concern for her as a weird "men think they can control women's bodies" thing which Milva will have to fight with them about so the show can be appropriately pro-choice without exploring any of the pro-choice nuance the books bring up. I can just see Regis talking to the guys about it being turned into a "the father deserves a say in a woman's choice to abort" scenario instead of the "I will give this woman her abortion regardless of what you all think about that (and I've made that VERY clear) but I think she's making this choice because she believes you all will abandon her/not support her if she wants to keep this baby and someone needs to make sure that she knows that won't happen" scenario that it actually is. This is also plays into my concerns about the Hansa's dynamic as changing that scene changes it irreparably.

Characterizing Nilfgaard as a Nation

Right now I feel like the show could go one of two ways 1) Nilfgaard is wrong in everything it does or 2) Nilfgaard is right in everything it does (if Emhyr gets a redemption arc). The show has already made a show of the Northern Realms' racism, which is book accurate mind you, but I fear this will translate to a sort of "Nilfgaard is the better nation as its less racist" scenario. While Nilfgaard is better in that aspect and a few others, it is still a militant slave nation. Nilfgaard and the Northern Realms both have their evils and their virtues; that's a big point in the books and the games. Neither nation is 100% good or 100% bad - they're just nations. I don't think the show will be able to handle that kind of nuance.

Jaskier & Radovid...

Apparently, Radovid is supposed to be one of Jask's love interests this season. Radovid is a massive racist, a war criminal, and a teenager. I'm sure all of that's going to be retconned but for fuck's sake just make a new character if you're going to age up and completely change the personality and insanity of an existing one. Important note: I am 1000% in support of queer Jask. I have never shipped that man with a woman in my life (even in the books and games) but for the love of God why did his LI have to be fucking RADOVID??

Mistle & the Rats

If they make Ciri and Mistle a love story, I am going to be disappointed but not surprised. Let me be clear: Mistle is a rapist and an abuser. I suspect they will change that to shoehorn in a queer relationship (even though Triss and Philippa are RIGHT THERE if they want a semi-canon wlw couple). The Rats as a whole are definitely going to be made into more robinhood-like characters because God forbid a main character like Ciri is morally grey or does questionable/bad things.

Geralt's Disability

If this season ends with the Vilgefortz and Geralt fight, as I suspect it might, Geralt will be disabled permanently by the end of this season. The dryads do not fix it. Magic does not fix it. Geralt becomes disabled and stays disabled. His disability becomes a hindrance during the books and the reader actively sees him grapple with the fallout of this. I do not trust this show to handle that - especially with how much more closed off Geralt is in the show compared to the books. If I had to guess, Geralt's disability will be handwaved away or mentioned in passing and never actually shown to impact him which is not cool.

[medicated-for-public-safety]

So I finally made a One Piece OC that I actually got around to drawing, lol. Meet Jask of the Straw Hat Pirates! I've been trying to get used to drawing chubby and fat characters, and I'm pretty proud of how this one turned out...even if I got lazy and used the same pose for both pre and post time skip lmao.

Name: Coyote Jask Pirate Nickname: Bloody Jaws Jask Birthday: 7/7 Age: 18 (Pre Time skip), 20 (Post Time skip) Height: 157 cm Likes: Fried eel, stuffed animals, jewelry, biting Devil Fruit: Musha Musha no Mi (Chomp Chomp Fruit) The Musha Musha no Mi allows it’s user to ‘chomp’ things, both with their mouth and various parts of their body whenever they are brought together in a ‘biting’ motion. When Jask first joins the Straw hats, she can only ‘chomp’ with her mouth and her hands. After the two years training on an island of seemingly insurmountable obstacles keeping her from escaping said island, she is able to ‘chomp’ with her index finger and thumb for smaller targets, as well as her legs and arms and feet if she brings them together with the intent to ‘chomp’. As her powers get stronger over time and finally awaken, she begins to be able to form temporary mouths all over her body for more powerful ‘chomp’ attacks. Her ‘chomps’ can ‘bite’ through anything except seastone, which nullifies the power of the Devil Fruit. The other downsides to her powers are that she lost her original normal teeth that were replaced by sharp and almost shark-like teeth, as well as how she can taste whatever she ‘chomps’ and how her gums will begin to bleed when she overuses her powers. Haki: Observation Haki and Armament Haki

Personality: Jask is a fiery young woman who is fiercely loyal and almost always up for a laugh. She gets flustered whenever being called ‘cute’, ‘beautiful’, and ‘sweet’, and vehemently denies being so. She also won’t accept a number of romantically inclined pet names. She’s pretty subconscious about being overweight and doesn’t see many of her positive aspects outside of how well of a fighter she is. Jask enjoys making people laugh with her particular brand of blunt and sometimes inappropriate humor, especially if they are upset, and she puts others mental and emotional well-being before her own; especially her crew mates. She suffers from depression and CPTSD, but tries not to let that stop her from living her life.

History: Jask grew up with a loving mother and a narcissistic grandmother fighting over her. Her grandmother constantly tried to turn Jask against her mother, while Jask’s mother fought to keep custody of her daughter. The two often had screaming matches that left Jask curled up in a different room while covering her ears and having an anxiety attack. Jask’s mother often sent Jask and her little brother with her brother’s family at an early age, which left Jask vulnerable. She ended up being abused by her brother’s grandmother’s boyfriend at the tender age of five, resulting in her becoming even more shut in as she kept the secret and guilt of this from everyone but her grandmother. When her grandmother found out, however, she twisted the story around to have Jask’s stepfather wrongly arrested and forced her mother to move them to a different island to get away from the marines until the step-father’s name was cleared.

Jask gained some semblance of normalcy after that, and forgot about her woes as she returned to being a normal child and making friends.

However, when they moved back to her home island when she was eleven, she met her childhood abuser again and everything came back to her in a rush of adrenaline—including the fear.

Her childhood abuser took his time to worm his way back into the family before, one day, he cornered Jask while she was out gathering firewood alone. He’d been followed, however, and when Jask’s mother found the man embracing her clearly terrified child, she realized what he was doing and killed him right then and there. Unfortunately, due to this, Jask’s mother had to leave the island before the marines caught and executed her.

She tucked her children in one last time, kissed them each goodnight, and disappeared into the night with the final words: “I love you. Never forget that.”

While Jask’s mother disappeared, she left something behind for her daughter.

Jask awoke to a small chest on her bedside table. There was a weird looking fruit inside, as well as a note that simply read, “Eat this. When the time comes, find me in the Grand Line”. Jask wasn’t sure what to do with the fruit, and ended up keeping it for a few days, even hiding it from her little brother and step father. As it was one of the last things her mother gave her, it was precious.

But her mother had wanted her to eat it. The note said so.

So, seated in her room by herself, Jask bit into the mysterious fruit. It was bitter, and tasted nasty, but she pushed through and ate the entire fruit. Not sure what to do now, Jask cringed when she felt a pain in her mouth. The pain grew worse, causing her to cry out and blood spilled from her lips and her teeth began to fall out, one by one. By the time her brother ran into her room, Jask had a whole new set of sharp, pointed teeth.

It was Jask’s stepfather that had to explain to her that what she had eaten was known as a Devil Fruit. Jask’s mother had inherited the fruit from her father (Jask’s grandfather that she’d never had the chance to meet), and it was called the Mushi Mushi no Mi. She was now a Chomp Chomp person; not that he knew what that meant.

Jask couldn't figure it out either...at least until she accidentally ‘chomped’ a hole in her bedroom ceiling while playing with her new teeth one night.

From that point on, Jask tested her new powers in secret from the adults; especially her controlling grandmother that was trying to get custody of her once more.

Sometimes her little brother would help her train, and she helped him learn to fight as well as they grew older. Year by year, they gradually got stronger by themselves until a merchant vessel showed up in their town. The ship was looking for new crew members.

Jask, now eighteen and free to do as she pleased despite her grandmother vehemently telling her not to go, signed up for the crew in hopes that they would bring her to the Grand Line. She quickly became the bosun, or boatswain’s, apprentice.

Unfortunately, her new crew didn’t keep her for long.

They abandoned her on an island after she was imprisoned for accidentally using her devil fruit powers. Just when all hope seemed lost, a certain crew of miscreants appeared.

Fun facts: Jask doesn’t actually eat that much, and has trouble eating more than one meal a day. When left to her own devices, she usually only eats a sandwich or a noodle salad since they are easy to make. This has changed since joining the Straw Hats, as Sanji noticed this problem and has reminded Jask to eat more than once a day by making and bringing her snacks.

Jask is the Straw Hat crew’s bosun.

Jask’s reason for going out to sea is to find her mother.

Jask’s little brother joined the Marines for the same reason, not that she knows this as she hasn’t seen him since she left her home island.

Jask sleeps with and carries a purple bat stuffed animal with her at all times, keeping it safely tucked into a pack on her back. It’s her emotional support plush and his name is Echo. She’s had to patch a hole in his ear after a run-in with some marines post-time skip.

Jask likes jewelry a lot, mainly necklaces and rings, though she doesn’t wear much since she doesn’t want to risk losing or damaging valuable luxury items like that. Still, she wears one necklace and, after the time skip, a second necklace with a shark tooth and an anklet with a single bead on it.

Jask tends to bite people when she gets angry to the point that she draws blood. She’s had this habit since she was a child.

She also bites the people she’s fond of, usually on the arms or shoulders. These affection bites never draw blood.

Whenever the depression gets to be too much, Jask can often be found hiding in small, cramped spaces below deck.

The tattoos that Jask showed up with after the time skip were given to her by the tribe she stayed with during the two years. Each band represents a trial she passed during her time with the tribe as she prepared to take on the thick ring of supposedly impassable mountains surrounding the island and keeping the tribe isolated there.

[eiirisworkshop]

The First Annual Family Of Promise Roadtrip

A Witcher fanfic (with cover ilustration by corasangloria) Complete fic available to read on Ao3 here.

~

Chapter 1

   Yennefer's glass hit the table a split second before Jaskier's did. She grinned wickedly. “I win.”

    With a groan, Jaskier dropped his head into his arms on the table. He looked up just enough to pout pitifully at Geralt. “Why'd you let me accept that bet? It was a terrible idea.”

    “I told you not to,” Geralt said mildly over his soda. “Now pay her.”

    Jaskier harumphed but sat up and fished his wallet out from the back pocket of his skin-tight jeans. Yennefer held out an expectant hand, still grinning.

    They were at their usual table in the corner of their usual bar at the end of a long week of other people's relationship drama for Yen, the uphill battle of getting kids to care about Shakespeare for Jask, and one too many rabid raccoons for Geralt. It was—perhaps unfairly, given the raccoons—Geralt's turn to drive, though it was Jask's keys in his pocket. As long as one of them drove something that could seat more than two, everything was fine.

    Yen took Jaskier's money with a flourish and leaned across the table to kiss his cheek. “Now never doubt me again.”

    “This is going to keep happening,” Geralt said with absolute certainty.

    “Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, dear.”

    Geralt shrugged. “You make bad decisions when you're drunk.”

    Yennefer cackled. Jaskier ignored her and leaned heavily on one elbow. “No. I make bold decisions when I'm drunk, so, yeah, when they're bad they're kinda spectacularly bad but when they're good they're spectacularly good. I know this about myself. Pass the fries?”

    After taking one herself, Yen shoved the basket of cheesy fries towards Jaskier. She bit off half her fry. “Wasn't he a few drinks in when he oh so dramatically confessed—or professed? Whatever—his undying love for you?”

    “He was,” Geralt said, with a sigh equal parts exasperated and fond. “Several drinks in.”

    “See, that was an excellent decision!” Jaskier said proudly, then frowned. “But I don't think I was that dramatic about it.”

    Geralt arched an eyebrow at him. “You stood on the table.”

    “I do that anyway!”

    Yennefer hummed and shook her head. “That's not the defense you think it is.”

    Jaskier very maturely stuck his tongue out at her.

    Something started buzzing. Frowning, Geralt reached for his pocket. “Who the fuck…?” He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this.”

    With that, he slid out of his seat, thumbing at his phone to answer the call as he made for the door.

    Yennefer and Jaskier shared a curious look.

    “Who,” Yen asked, “that he actually answers his personal phone for, is not at this table?”

    Jaskier shrugged sweepingly. “Brothers, maybe?”

    She frowned and fixed the strap of her dress where it was migrating down her shoulder. “Have you ever actually seen him answer the phone for them, though?”

    “Uh.” Jask leaned back in his chair and scrunched his eyes at the ceiling. “Once yeah. After Lambert called, like, five times in a row.”

    “Yeah. He picked up immediately,” Yen pointed out, leaning forward on the table.

    “I have no idea.” Jask shrugged, tossing his hands up. He sighed. “Do we need another round?”

    Yen made a face, lip curling. “I think I just need juice or something.

    “Ha!” He made to poke her face as he stood up, snatched his hand back as she tried to smack it, then successfully booped her nose. “You might chug faster but I hold it better.”

    “You're male!” She swatted at him as he sashayed loosely past. “You metabl'ize alcohol differently.” She huffed and took the fries back for herself.

    When Jaskier returned, he set a glass carefully in front of her. “Fancy apple juice for you. Apple whiskey for me.” He took a sip and sank into his seat. “Geralt's not back?”

    Yen shook her head, frowned, then rolled her neck ‘til it popped. “Ow.”

    Jask lowered his glass, pausing before the drink he was about to take. “You good?”

    “I'm magnificent.” She smirked and drank her juice as he rolled his eyes.

~

    Jaskier and Yennefer had both finished their apple-based beverages and gone, one at a time, to the bathroom, checked out the window to make sure Jask's car was still in the lot, and gotten a couple ciders by the time Geralt came back. He dropped heavily into his chair, rubbing his forehead.

    “Well?” Yen prompted.

    “What was that all about?” Jask prodded.

    Geralt sighed and looked up at them. “How much money is riding on the answer?”

    Yen shrugged. “Surprisingly, none.”

    “We ran outta ideas pretty quick for people you ever actually answer the phone for, so…yeah.”

    Geralt snorted, tipped his head back and took a breath. “I'm gonna be looking after my goddaughter for the summer.”

    “Oh,” Jask said with dawning understanding at the same time Yen asked, “You have a goddaughter?”

    Jask grinned. “Oh, he very much has a goddaughter.”

    Geralt grimaced. “Can we continue this conversation at home? So I can have a drink.”

    “Yeah, that's fair.” Yen knocked back the last of her cider, pushed back her chair, frowned down at her shoes, took them off, then stood. “Let's go. Julian?”

    “Yeees?” Jask asked, getting to his feet.

    “Keep talking.”

    He laughed. “Well, you see, wha' had happened was—”

    “If we're going let's go,” Geralt interrupted. “I can't believe you're walking through this dive barefoot…”

    Yen made a dismissive sound and led the way outside, shoes dangling by their straps from her fingers.

    The lights on Jaskier's SUV blinked as Geralt unlocked it. Yen claimed shotgun so Jask sprawled tipsily in the back seat of his own car. “As I was saying—”

    “Put your seatbelt on,” Geralt growled.

    “Yeah, yeah.” Jask fumbled to get a belt around him in a way that worked despite him not sitting in a way any engineer expected anyone to sit in a car. “Way back when I was in undergrad, I had a band, and we didn't totally suck, so we'd get asked to play events—parties and shit. One day this chick I've talked to maybe once but seen every day for two years 'cause we kept, like, having classes across from each other 'cause for some reason the half of comp-lit that didn't fit in the fuckin' German building, was in the poli-sci building—why they didn't have us in the English building I will never understand; there woulda been room if they put religious studies somewhe—”

    “Jaskier,” Geralt sighed as he waited to be able to make a left turn, “get on with it.”

    “Right, sorry, lots of opinions on the layout of my university.”

    “I understand,” Yen said sagely, more than half twisted around in her seat to face Jask.

    “Anyway, this chick catches me in the hallway outside that adaptation class with the professor I always bitch about and asks me to play her engagement party. I say yes 'cause I know this chick is from money money—like makes my family look broke kinda money; amazing the shit you overhear waiting for classes—and I like fancy-ass parties. So we get all the details worked out, and everybody in the band can have a plus one. It's a big party. So, obviously, I bring Geralt.”

    “Obviously,” Yen snorted. “Frankly it's amazing it took you so long to get together.”

    Jask waved a hand in a shooing motion. “I thought he wasn't interested; we've been over that. So I bring Geralt—”

    “You bribed me,” Geralt cut in, “with promises of an open bar and free dinner, then waited ‘til I'd agreed to go to tell me there was a dress code.”

    “Bribing you with food is just so very effective, sweetheart. Anyway. We go to the party, I'm doing the whole fronting-a-band thing, I have no idea where Geralt's wand'red off to,” Jask slurred slightly, “but my best guess's the quietest dark corner, an' like I said, there's an open bar. Big fancy house full of drunk rich people.

    “Then a fuckin' fight breaks out 'cause apparently Pavetta's fiance—Pavetta is the rich chick—her fiance is from several so-sho-ec'nomic tiers down and the wrong side'v the tracks and some of the rich dudes have a fuckin' problem with that 'cause they think Pavetta oughta be marrying one of them instead. Right? So one of these trust fund mother fuckers pulls a goddamn knife because who fuckin' knows why he had that on 'im and goes after the fiancé and I'm thinkin' I'm about to witness a murder and that is not the kind of interesting life I want to lead and people are screaming and then Geralt shows back up from wherever he was sulking, breaks up the fight. By which I mean he disarms the jackass with the knife and knocks him out cold, lookin' like some kinda action-hero-come-avenging-angel.”

    “You don't need to embellish,” Geralt sighed.

    “I'm not!” Jaskier squawked.

    Yen chuckled. “You are slightly prone to the avenging angel look. It's the hair.”

    Geralt shook his head but Jaskier gestured in vindication. “It is the hair! But so yeah, he breaks up the fight, Pavetta and her fiance, Duny—God, I love that man's name, Duny, such a good name—yeah, they're super grateful and Duny is about as sloshed as anybody else at the party and Pavetta's just one of those dramatic grand gesture type people so they're both like ohmygoodness thank you so much you shall be the godfather of our child. Geralt's like yeah sure sounds great and fuckin' leaves the party. Eight months later he gets a birth announcement card in the mail.”

    Yen threw her head back with laughter. “That's amazing. Geralt, why on earth did you agree to that?”

    “I didn't think they meant it,” Geralt snapped. “I definitely didn't know she was already pregnant.”

    “Shotgun wedding,” Jaskier singsonged from the back.

    “Shut up. The only reason they were able to draw up all the legal shit is you gave her my info.” Geralt pulled into his own driveway and cut the engine, ignoring Jaskier babbling self justifications behind him. He looked at Yennefer. “Are you staying tonight or am I taking you home?”

    “I'm staying.”

    “Great.” Geralt got out, then opened the door for Jask, who more or less fell out onto the ground, saved only by Geralt's strong arm catching him across the chest.

    “So much for you holding it better,” Yen snickered, shoving her own car door shut once she was out.

    “I have had more than you,” Jaskier objected. “And don't think I don't know that you took your shoes off 'cause you're too wobbly to walk in those monstrosities.”

    “If you throw your shoe at him I'm locking you both out,” Geralt growled, brushing past to let them in the little old house. He flicked on the foyer light. “Roach?”

    A jingle, then the measured tack tack tack of paws on the hardwood and his giant brown Great Dane appeared down the hall in the doorway to his bedroom, head tilted, one uncropped ear pricked attentively.

    Geralt smiled a little. “Beer me?”

    Roach dutifully trotted to the kitchen to yank the fridge open by the dish towel draped around the handle.

    “So,” Yen went to drape herself across her favorite chair in Geralt's living room, “you acquired a goddaughter. Why are you taking care of her this summer?”

    Roach came trotting back, a can of beer in her mouth. Geralt took it, wiped it off on his jeans, pet her, kissed the top of her head, then let Jask pull him onto the couch for snuggles. “She asked me to.” He shrugged and cracked open his beer. “She never asks me for anything.”

    Jask hummed curiously. “Did she—ack, Roach!” he squawked as Roach stepped on him, getting up on the couch to join in the snuggles. “Why do you only sometimes understand you're big? Hi there.” He scritched the corner of her jaw and took a breath. “Geralt, did she say why she was asking you? Seems like she must've. You were on the phone for awhile.”

    Geralt leaned back against the arm of the couch, sweeping an arm under his head as he did, so he wasn't laying on his hair. “Apparently, her grandmother sends her to the same summer camp every year and she doesn't want to go because the other kids treat her weird.” He sat up just enough to sip his beer. “She got Calanthe to agree that if she could find something else to keep her busy for the summer she doesn't have to go to camp, and how better to keep out of her grandmother's way than to stay with the godfather who lives several states over.”

    “Hang on.” Yennefer frowned. “Calanthe? As in—?”

    Geralt nodded. “Calanthe Riannon.”

    “The congresswoman?”

    “Do you know of any other Calanthe Riannons?” Jaskier asked. “It's not like her name is Mary Smith. Or Molly O'Malley. Or—”

    “Yes,” Geralt cut in, “the congresswoman.”

    Yen's frown deepened. “Didn't her daughter die in a plane crash like a decade ago?”

    Geralt nodded again. “That was Pavetta. Duny was with her. That's why Ciri lives with her grandmother.”

    “That crash was all over the news for a month and you never even said you knew them,” Yen accused.

    “Because I didn't know them,” Geralt said. “Not really. I met them once—Jask knew both of them better than I did. I just got cards at Christmas and I sent cards back for that and her birthday because,” he shrugged, “I did agree to be her godfather, cards are a little enough thing. Then they died and nothing changed. The next Christmas card came like clockwork. I wasn't invited to the funeral.”

    Yennefer looked to Jaskier. “I don't remember you saying anything, either.”

    “Yeah, we weren't on speaking terms at the time.” Jask prodded Roach gently off of him so he could stand up. “Pretty sure you blamed me for your breakup somehow.”

    “Oh, right.” Yen ran a hand over her face, miraculously not smudging her makeup. “Wait, no.” She called at his back as he went to the kitchen, “That was when I was mad at you for sleeping with my ex!”

    “Oh yeah!” Jaskier laughed, snagging a couple bottles of Gatorade from the fridge.

    Geralt shook his head. “I still don't understand why that was a problem.”

    Yen sighed. “Because romance is stupid.”

    “That much I know.”

    “But it's just been cards?” Yen asked. “The entire relationship?”

    “Cards, a few phone calls, occasional texts.”

    Yen quirked an eyebrow. “You've never met this girl in person?”

    Geralt shook his head while he drank.

    Jask came back, tossed a Gatorade to Yen, who almost managed to catch it without fumbling, then plopped himself on the floor. “So is there a plan for the whole goddad for the summer thing or…?”

    “No. I…am going to have to call Calanthe.”

~

End of chapter! Read the rest on Ao3 here.

[youaremysunshine-court]

Going into Witcher ep2

Again putting shit under the cut because I’m going to go feral before I can do thoughtful analysis of any kind

starting us off strong with GERASKIER BANTERRRRRRRR HOLY SHIT “NOT YOUR BEST” “CANT ALL BE GOLD” FUCK I LOVE THEM

“MY WIFE” im sorry im sorry they are putting openly queer people in this series??? holy shit they heard us.

okay so were getting actual honest-to-god affection between geralt and jaskier, like even if it’s meant to be platonic (it’s not, source: i’m gay) its still so much progress for two men to show care for each other on screen in a show like the witcher. kudos.

also theyre gonna fuck this season (apollo chuck it at me now.)

Ciri might as well be gers daughter, shes so impulsive strongwilled just stuck to her morals GOD i love her

aretuza is quite literally the worst place for them to go right now someone is going to betray them

I’m calling it now radovid and jaskier are going to roll into bed right before the big reveal abotu jask working with the redanians hits geralt, hes going to storm into jaskiers quarters and get flashed in style (apollo please)

jaskier doesnt want to sing???? whats wrong darling???? (literally about to cry hes so broken inside and still hiding it, omg has he lost his voice???) (even when he starts to play his eyes are dead in his face, there’s no life behind them. even when he was singing burn butcher burn, he always had life in hsi eyes. what happened to him)

cahir is undercover? to fins ciri? okay, weird but okay

someone needs to bundle jaskier up give him a hot mug of chocolate and let him cry for a day, what is making him so sad

ohhh that is a monster and a half, who came up with that idea ouchhhhh

okay radovid kinda hot tho, like hes so vulgar and intelligent in turns really keeping everyone on their toes thats very very attractive

is there some sort of conflict of interest when youre sleeping with your co-leader, or is the magical community that small that you cant find anyone else to fuck

yenns so brave and also currently being a good parent to ciri

when the continents only adoption service is the white wolf (how does he keep acquiring silver haired children)

OH HEY “Im ciri” hi hello what????

[roughentumble]

#twn spoikers

ok so i THINK what theyre going for here is not actually a genuine connection between jaskier and radovid, to me it looks like everything radovid's doing is manipulation. he's playing along with what philippa wants, he's seeking ciri because vizimir has ordered him to. after manipulating jaskier with heartfelt pleas, and then seeing jaskier promise to deliver ciri... while clearly processing trauma talking about rience.... as soon as jask is gone he turns to philippa and yawns and then causally (demeaningly) calls her "pip".

and honestly im more here for that than i would be a genuine connection! not because i think jask deserves to be strung along or abused, but just because "bratty noble using his power to manipulate people for social gain" sounds more compeling to me. another player on the field! more evidence of how the nobles want to use ciri for her blood and prestige! but who knows, maybe i've misread signals and the connection will be genuine. i just think it's a setup for jaskier to get betrayed just as he lines up to betray geralt and ciri and yen

[lassieposting]

Okay so

In the last ep of S2, we see Jaskier asleep in a room at Kaer Morhen. There are three interesting details about this scene.

The room actually looks somewhat lived-in compared to the empty, spiderweb-ridden rooms Ciri explores in an earlier episode. Jaskier hasn't been at Kaer Morhen long enough to have a lived-in guest room.

When Yennefer gets him out of bed, we see him grab his coat, which is lying next to a mostly-empty bottle of booze. He also asks Yen if she's making a hangover cure, because he feels like shit. He wasn't drunk when Geralt asked him to take Ciri home, so we know that his first night at Kaer Morhen, he got white girl wasted.

He's mostly dressed in bed. Like, he's still got his boots on, even. The only thing he seems to have taken off is his coat. But he's not shivering or curled up like he's very cold. He seems quite comfy.

This makes me think five things.

Jask met Geralt's family for the first time and promptly got blitzed with them. That's why he's the only one in the keep with a hangover - they can't get drunk on his booze.

What do Jaskier and the Witchers have in common to talk about? Well, Geralt, of course. Not only do Vesemir and the boys get a detailed rundown of every amusing anecdote Jask has from his 20+ years travelling with Geralt (along with a heaped helping of Poetic Drunken Yearning - gods, where did Geralt get this walking bag of feelings?), but Jask also gets treated to Every Embarrassing Thing Baby!Geralt Ever Did.

The room looks lived-in because it's Geralt's. Everyone was too busy drinking and spilling tea to think about making up a guest room for the bard. So when Jaskier finally passes the fuck out, and Vesemir tells Lambert to find him a bed to sleep it off in, Lambert goes "Eh, close enough" and sticks him in Geralt's. Geralt's twink. Geralt's problem.

This is also why Jaskier is still almost totally dressed, boots and all. Lambert is so not going there: he's a Witcher, not a nanny or a nurse. He drops Jask on the bed, flings a blanket over him and calls it a day.

At some point post-S2, Geralt is going to wake up in a cold sweat at like 3am and realise that leaving his bard unattended with his family was a Terrible Idea and they definitely swapped stories and he's not going to hear the end of it from anyone for a really long time

[samstree]

Jaskier hates sweet things, and Geralt loves them. It’s why they work well together.

“It’s why we work well together!” Jaskier exclaims, pushing his dessert plate towards Geralt. He’s only taken one spoonful of the cherry pie, made a face and declared it too sweet for his taste. “I hate sweets, and you love them—don’t try to deny me, dear. I’ve seen the way you look at the pastry stands when no one is watching.”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s cherry pie is long gone, and his mouth waters at the sight of Jaskier’s piece. “It’s yours. You paid for it.”

“Actually, my performance paid for both of our dinners.” Jaskier winks. “But as you can see, it’s become a burden for me, as I cannot stand anything with so much as a layer of frosting.”

Geralt is not, and that is more than enough. “I don’t need a second dessert, Jask,” he says. “Witchers can live on very little food.”

“But you’d be doing me a favor.” Jaskier bats his eyelashes. “Please? My gorgeous witcher, my brave champion, my most generous lover—”

“Fine,” Geralt interrupts, taking up his spoon. “Don’t finish the thought.”

Jaskier giggles, sitting back to watch Geralt eat. “It’s a saying even. They say a couple only works if one likes the food the other hates. This way, if it comes up on the dinner table, one can finish it for the other.”

It’s a cheeky saying, one that is definitely just been invented by Jaskier himself.

The pie is good though. The cherries add a hint of tartness to the cream frosting. Geralt chews slowly, letting the sweetness pop in his mouth. He closes his eyes with the last bite, and only opens them slowly afterward.

“Is it good?”

Jaskier watches Geralt with a quiet smile, his hand reaching forward on the table, his palm facing up. Geralt takes it and squeezes gently.

“It’s…sweet,” he answers, belly full and content.

It seems to satisfy Jaskier enough to press a tiny kiss on Geralt’s scarred knuckles.

“See?” Jaskier preens. “We work well together.”

☆ 

For some reason, Jaskier keeps buying sweets for himself.

The two lemon cakes are freshly baked, wrapped in paper and drizzled with honey, the warm aroma wafting through the busy marketplace. It reminds Geralt of a snowy day at Kaer Morhen, with the fireplace burning bright.

Jaskier holds them to his nose and takes a sniff, only to shove them into Geralt’s hands.

“Too sweet,” Jaskier says, pouting. “Finish them for me?”

Geralt sighs. “You can just not buy them.”

“Thought I wanted one, and now I don’t.” Jaskier shrugs. “Anyway, it’s good you’re here, so you can take care of them for me, dear. Meet me later?”

With that, Jaskier disappears into the crowd, leaving Geralt with the two cakes. They do look good, so he takes a bite, and then another.

He wouldn’t normally spend coin on luxuries such as fancy cakes, and whatever food he does purchase would be rationed carefully. Being on the road with a human calls for caution, as Jaskier is not nearly as sturdy as a witcher when it comes to on-and-off meals. Geralt always saves extra for him.

Which makes sweets the only indulgence he has. It’s okay. Jaskier hates sweet things so much he’d never eat them anyway.

The honey is sticky on Geralt’s fingers. He makes sure to lick the last of it clean.

☆   

Lettenhove bustles with the laughter of children. Every year they come back, there seem to be a dozen more of them. The extended family welcomes them with warm hugs, with Jaskier’s parents giving the tightest one.

Jaskier looks exhausted from traveling, but as soon as his nieces and nephews hug him on the leg, he seems to melt into a puddle all over again. The children drag him off to play games in the courtyard, and he can never say no to that.

Geralt can only shake his head and head straight to the kitchen. Jaskier skipped lunch to get here sooner, and the kids will soon run him ragged, so naturally, Geralt needs to fetch him something solid for later.

He encounters more cousins and uncles on the way, who all pat him on the back warmly. It’s still unreal to think the Pankratzes have just accepted Geralt as a member of the family. Even years later, it still takes a moment to wrap his head around the fact.

The smell of freshly baked biscuits comes from the kitchen, rich with caramel and butter.

“Oh, Geralt!” Mira, Jaskier’s older sister exclaims when she finds him in the doorway, her eyes as blue as Jaskier’s, full of a big smile. “How was your travel? Good weather, I hope?”

“Good,” Geralt nods. “The road was easy. Jaskier was missing you, so we didn’t rest today.”

“Well, we missed him too, and you, of course.” Mira always manages to soften Geralt, putting him at ease. “You both must be so hungry. All that witchering must be hard, you look much thinner, Geralt. I’m sure it’s the same with Julian. It’s good timing! The biscuits are just done. I made his favorite, made it extra sweet with caramel just for our Julian.”

Geralt blinks, confused. “For who?”

“Who else has the biggest sweet tooth in Lettenhove? Of course it’s my baby brother, your Jaskier.” Mira turns to put the biscuits into a plate, amused by fond memories. “He used to sneak into the kitchen at night just for the candied fruits we keep for the holidays. It’s embarrassing how long he kept it up, even right before we sent him off to university.”

In the distance, Geralt can hear Jaskier’s voice, playing with the children and laughing loudly.

Geralt takes the plate from Mira, and stares for a moment.

☆  

The biscuits, as it turns out, are decimated instantly by the children.

Only crumbs are left on the plate by the time Jaskier walks up behind the kids, his cheeks flushed and hair a mess.

“How’s the family treating you, dear?” Jaskier asks, equal parts amused and sympathetic. “Not overwhelmed by them? I have to apologize if you are. The Pankcratzes are an overwhelming people. It just can’t be helped, as you see.” He spread his arms dramatically, gesturing to the kids running around behind him, with biscuit crumbs on their chins. “But we do try to overwhelm you with love!”

“Yes,” Geralt muses quietly, a familiar mushy feeling spreading through his chest. “That you do, Jaskier.”

Geralt isn’t sure what expression he’s making, but it must be worrying enough. Jaskier steps closer with a serious face.

“What is it?” A frown creeps up on Jaskier’s brow. “Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Geralt holds the empty plate tightly, shaking his head. “Mira knew this would happen and saved a few biscuits in the kitchen. They are made extra sweet, with caramel.”

Something flickers in Jaskier’s eyes. It’s subtle, barely there, a flash of excitement that appears out of instinct but is suppressed quickly.

It’s something Geralt should have seen long ago.

Jaskier, he realizes, is a sweet tooth.

Has been this whole time.

“It sounds lovely.” Jaskier nudges Geralt on the elbow. “Do you want to go and try it? Go then! Mira must be dying to feed you after seeing you’ve gotten thin, and—oh, Geralt, what are you doing?”

Within a heartbeat, Geralt has taken Jaskier into his arm, kissing him passionately. It’s awkward with him still holding the plate, and Jaskier’s youngest niece, Issy, makes a disgusted noise, but Geralt can’t find it in his heart to care.

He kisses Jaskier until the bard has to pull away with a flustered smile, his hands holding onto Geralt’s shoulder for balance. Jaskier’s cheeks have gone wonderfully red, his eyes shining with love.

“What, um,” Jaskier clears his throat. “What was that for? Not that I’d ever complain.”

Geralt stares into those cornflower blue eyes he’s known for years, and finds a new way to fall in love all over again. “I got a little…” he answers, exhaling deeply, “overwhelmed.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “In a good way?”

“Very.” Geralt kisses Jaskier’s nose one last time before letting him go. “Do you want to come with me? Try Mira’s biscuits. Just this once. Maybe you’ll like it.”

“But I don’t—”

“Please?” Geralt looks at Jaskier pleadingly. He knows Jaskier won’t say no to that look. “For me?”

Jaskier beams, his grin spreading impossibly wide, looking stupidly happy.

“Alright,” Jaskier agrees chirpily, taking Geralt’s arm. “You know I’d do anything for you, but you are being unreasonably amiable today. What’s gotten into you?”

Geralt lets Jaskier wraps himself around his side as they return to the kitchen, the rich scent of caramel filling his lungs once again. It seeps into his core, indistinguishable from the ever-growing affection he feels for Jaskier.

“Just,” Geralt says finally, voice hushed like it’s a secret, “I find you sweet, is all. The sweetest.”

Luckily, Geralt loves sweet things.

[freetheworms]

okay so i’ve had this weird Geraskier trucker AU stuck in my head for a while and i just don’t know if i’ll ever get around to writing it properly, so instead i have compiled my headcanons!

(this got super fucking long somehow, so most of it is under the cut)

so Geralt is a long-haul trucker for a small, family owned company called Witchers Express Transportation (WET for short. haha)

of course it’s his family that owns it. Vesemir started it years ago back in their small town of Kaer Moren as something he could pass onto his boys, and to be honest, they all kind of enjoy the travel and a little solitude, although none as much as Geralt

Geralt truck is black with a wolf emblem on the side, because of course it is. Lambert’s is red with flames on it because he loves to fuck around and also i make the rules. Eskel’s truck is forest green because i just think that’s nice. Coën’s is grey (with flames because Lambert insisted he needed to “spice it up.”) Vesemir mostly stays at HQ and handles orders now, but his old truck was also black. none of that matters but it’s important to me that you know this

Geralt also has a black cat that travels with him in the cab of his truck like those adorable dudes on tiktok. i’ll give you one guess at her name ((it’s Roach. duh))

anyway. Geralt is out on some cross-continent haul, and pulls into a truck stop in Posada one evening, cause y’know. a man’s gotta eat. and drink. and sleep (if he’s lucky)

insert bard. i imagine their first meeting is essentially the same as it is in the show, except Jaskier is playing the ukulele instead of the lute because it’s modern times, and a guitar wouldn’t be playable in the truck. i am big brained

eventually Geralt goes to head back on the road once he and Roach are fed and rested, and finds he has a loud, obnoxiously-dressed shadow following him through the parking lot

“hey, so wait. okay wait. what if i, uh, y’know, came with you? like, in your truck?” Jaskier is running away from his stuffy pompous home life, and this big sexy trucker looks like his very climbable ticket

“you don’t even know where i’m going” Geralt is so not having it.

“well, no. i mean. you could tell me? but i don’t really care, as long as it’s not here!”

“i could kill you” Geralt is putting on his scariest face. it is decidedly not working

“nah, don’t buy it. i feel like murderous truckers don’t have kitten companions,” the idiot kid actually winks at him. “so, where are we going?” Jaskier is already climbing into the truck and Geralt, sweet, awkward Geralt, doesn’t want to have to rip him out of it so he just kind of. goes with it, begrudgingly. the kid probably won’t last long cooped up in the tiny cab, anyway

Geralt is very, very wrong.

Jaskier is happy to sit in the truck and look out the windows, commenting on every weird or mildly interesting thing they drive by. he’s also maybe a little too happy to flirt with Geralt at every given opportunity. Geralt definitely, totally, feels no ways about this, why would you even ask that?

Geralt keeps waiting for him to fuck off at one of the truck stops they pull into, but the kid just keeps coming back

if Geralt waits for the bard to finish his set, or his conquests before he drives off, that is definitely not because he likes the company. nope. he just feels bad for the kid, okay? it’s dangerous for a naive little fancy lad out here

oh, also. Geralt’s radio doesn’t work and Jask thinks that’s the most insane thing about this guy. i mean, travelling for weeks on end with nothing but silence and the occasional meow to listen to? absolutely psychopath behaviour. can’t have that.

so Jaskier spends a lot of his time in the passenger seat, composing songs about the various people he’s met on their travels, or about Geralt, and even once about Roach. Geralt pretends to be annoyed when Jaskier plays them in the cab, but secretly he’s realizing maybe he doesn’t miss the silence as much as he thought

Jaskier still gets himself in trouble sleeping with the wrong people at the inns they frequent, and Geralt of course has to be his Big Beefy Backup™️ when the occasional angry husband or wife tries to skin him in the middle of the motel lobby

Geralt is absolutely not jealous of the people Jask sleeps with. he’s not. nope. no, sir. he’s just annoyed at having to rescue him, is all

and if they share a bed half the time, it’s only because motels are expensive and getting two rooms seems like a waste of money. they’re just being smart!

so, they travel together like this for a couple of years; Geralt making deliveries (and excuses for the weird, overly friendly man constantly in his passenger seat) and Jaskier using all this experience to further his meager singer-songwriter career

they do part ways sometimes so Geralt can go back to Kaer Moren, or so Jaskier can try and record one of his now numerous ballads, but they’ve exchanged phone numbers (for safety!) and they somehow always end up coming back together

Jaskier absolutely did not turn on Geralt’s location sharing so he could “happen to turn up” at the same truck stop as his favourite trucker

so, yeah. they do this little dance around each other for almost 10 years before Geralt’s guilt finally gets the better of him on a bad day. he’s kept Jaskier cooped up in his tiny truck for far too long. it’s selfish. Jask deserves to see the world, and not from behind a windshield. he says as much, one day when they’re stopped in some shitty diner parking lot

Jaskier suggests they take some time off the road then, maybe see the coast together? 

Geralt insists he can’t just leave his job, and that Jaskier should go on to live his actual life without an old grumpy man weighing him down

Jaskier does not take that well. “i’m the one that asked you if i could travel with you, you big brute! you don’t get to be all self-sacrificing about this!”

Geralt does not take Jaskier not taking it well very well. cue yelling. cue Geralt saying things he doesn’t mean about Jaskier holding up his deliveries with his dilly-dallying at stops. about Jaskier never shutting up and being annoying. about how he wishes he’d never met that stupid kid at the truck stop in Posada. 

big “go on! just get outta here you stupid dumb animal!” vibes

cue Mountain Breakup moment. they banter, sure, but Geralt has never actually yelled at him like this. Jask gets out of the truck with a dejected “see you around, Geralt.”

they travel separately for a good few months, almost a year before Geralt starts to think he might go insane in the silence. he even considers fixing his radio, but something about that feels wrong. also he’s a little scared he’ll hear one of Jaskier’s songs play and lose his shit entirely

so eventually Geralt is home at Kaer Moren, moping more than usual, when Eskel somehow notices that Geralt and Jaskier are still sharing locations. Geralt didn’t even know that was a thing you could do??? How long has that been on????

Eskel just gives him this Look and Geralt realizes what he has to do

he sets out to find Jaskier, pinging his phone at some bar just outside Posada

well, thank god he did because he find a tipsy and very scared Jaskier in the back alley, about to get his shit rocked by a group of angry locals whose spouses he probably fucked

Mr. Big Beefy Backup™️ scares the 3 or 4 people off easy enough, but then comes the hard part. time to apologize for being a supreme dickhead, Geralt. go on.

Jaskier is still just standing there in shock because what??? just happened??? why is Geralt here? how is Geralt here? he knows for a fact Geralt would never figure out Jaskier’s location sharing trick on his own; this man can barely figure out how to answer a text. 

he’s about to ask when Geralt finally starts speaking

and it’s an apology? from his Geralt?? okay, maybe he’s drunker than he thought

but no, Geralt really is apologizing, and he looks sincere. in fact, he looks downright miserable as he tells Jaskier he never meant any of it, and he’s so sorry he let his guilt get the better of him. says Jaskier didn’t deserve that hurt, and Geralt would never do it again. he’s really trying to be better. he will be better, just please. he just needs his bard back, if he’ll have him

the silence is deafening as Jaskier just stands there, gaping like a fish

he was going to shut Geralt down, at least for a minute. he was. he’s thought about this moment a zillion times, and he really was going to tell Geralt it wasn’t enough, that he’s worth more than that

but Geralt looks genuinely heartbroken and vulnerable in a way Jaskier’s never seen, and he can’t do it. he doesn’t want to.

so Jaskier steels himself and kisses him instead, because for once, he’s at a loss for words. because he’s a little drunk and he’s wanted this for the better part of a decade. because he’s afraid this is the only chance he’ll get

and when Geralt feverishly returns the kiss, Jaskier knows he’ll happily climb right back into that cramped old truck with him. knows there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than with this big, stupid man that he loves. he says as much

and Geralt smiles, actually grins as he says “i love you too, Jaskier”

Jaskier does set some new boundaries and ground rules between them though, because we stan Growth and Knowing Your Worth. luckily, Geralt is more than happy to oblige

and then they drive off into the sunset together to see the coast :)

also, Jaskier has never been more grateful for Geralt’s broken radio. there’s, uhh, no need for Geralt to hear his latest single, Burn Trucker Burn

wow. okay, well at this point i may as well have written the actual fic but Y’KNOW. maybe i will some day. who knows. let me know if uhhh if anyone would want to read it?? validation is my lifeblood and i’m real nervous about posting this for no reason

also, if anyone else for some reason wants to give this stupid AU a go, please for the love of god, tag me! i’d love to read what you come up with :)