#Jaskier has been in love since about minute 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

officerjennie · 2 years

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the softest of treasures

CW: Geralt has Issues, self doubt, vague mentions of past shitty relationships, Jaskier uses a copious amount of emojis (in which Jaskier is Me)

Summary: Geralt gets his hopes up despite the past showing him again and again that he couldn't make anyone happy, and ends up asking Jaskier, the man he's been texting non-stop for over a week, on a coffee date. The date only makes his hopes soar higher, and Geralt feels the fall from it - but cannot bring himself to cut it short before the fall.

Taglist: at the bottom - let me know if you want on/off it!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Story Masterlist

A very special thanks to @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde who is the best enabler. I promise I'll write chapter 2 soon, just for you.

It was a foolish thing to hope, but the feeling was caught in Geralt’s throat.

Dating apps had been the bane of his existence ever since Lambert had forced him to download one. The fact that there was more than one out there just made him think too much on how outdated he was when it came to technology (something Lambert loved to tease him about, much to Geralt’s dismay), and figuring out how to use the one and only dating app he’d been forced to create an account on had been a waste of time.

He hated it. Trying to write out thoughtful paragraphs about himself and his interests, posing for ‘sexy’ photos to slap up there, judging his ‘potential matches’ by their looks, age, gender and a quick sentence or two and then immediately swiping for yes or no.

It made him itch. He didn’t even want to be on the damn app, and now ‘local singles’ were judging him and thinking about sex with him.

But now it wasn’t even the fucking app that was the issue.

Apparently, Lambert hadn’t been the only one plotting behind his back, and Eskel had happened to have a friend who was single. Jaskier, who Geralt had met a few times and had always felt tongue tied around - he wasn’t even sure he’d ever actually introduced himself, as a matter of fact, and the first message Jaskier had sent him just made him extra sure of that.

Jaskier had texted him. Out of the blue, with only a two minute head’s up from Eskel that read, and Geralt had memorized and could easily quote it, “Don’t freak out. Gave my friend your number. Don’t run this one off.”

That had been a week ago, and now Geralt was staring at the phone in his hand. Staring at the words he’d typed out while still in his sleeping pants, ones that were dotted with holes and faded out, no shirt on despite the fact that it was cold in his apartment.

His hands wanted to shake, and he wanted to send the message. Jaskier had sent a laughing emoji half an hour before - several, actually. He had a habit of sending strings of them - and he’d been laughing at Geralt’s dry humor again. They hadn’t exactly been talking nonstop the past week, but it was damn close to it. Good morning and goodnight texts, a few pictures here and there. Jaskier was fond of selfies with silly faces and Geralt hadn’t been complaining one bit over it.

But they’d hit it off so well. They got along so well. And Geralt hated to hope, but it had been over a year since his last relationship had fallen apart.

It was just a coffee date. Just a suggestion, Jaskier could even consider it a friend date. Geralt dropped his hand to his lap, holding his phone loosely while he stared up at the ceiling, searching the paint designs for answers. Could he really try again? Did he really have any sort of chance with him at all?

He wasn’t...very good for anyone. Couldn’t ever give someone all they deserved. But fuck, he wanted, and Jaskier had such a brilliant smile and cute freckles dotting his nose. Geralt wanted to kiss them, and hold his hand, and wanted to watch crappy horror movies while cuddling up and pretending like the candles on his coffee table were a roaring fire that kept them warm.

With a deep breath, he picked his head up and peeked down at his phone. And then before he could stop himself, he quickly pressed send, tossing his phone aside and escaping off to the kitchen to ignore it - while straining his ears anyway for any sign that Jaskier had read it and responded.

Making coffee was just an excuse to keep his hands busy. And it was already past ten, so he had to do decaf if he wanted any chance of sleeping that night - so why the fuck had he suggested a lunch date at a coffee shop again? Geralt swore under his breath, tapping his fingers on the counter while waiting for the coffee to brew, not sure if he could stand being in the same apartment as his phone and also hardly able to stop himself from running over to check it.

He was a desperate idiot. He was just a man with a stupid crush. Also he was hungry, and his stupid feelings had gotten in the way of remembering to eat breakfast that morning.

By the time his coffee was done and he had a bagel with plain cream cheese on it, he was certain he’d fucked everything up and lost the only new friend he’d gained in the past five years. Still, he made a beeline for his phone, biting the bagel and holding it in his mouth while he unlocked the screen.

Jaskier had already sent him a message. Several, in fact. The first just several exclamation marks, the next an excited “yes yes YES!”, and then a few of him spewing about how much he loved the pastries there. Geralt’s heart was already beating fast, a smile trying to form at how excited Jaskier would get over the smallest of things, and then he reached the last message and he had to look away from his phone.

“So it’s a date then?”

Jaskier had ended the message with that emoji with the big, watery eyes. The one that reminded Geralt of a puppy. Made him imagine Jaskier was pouting cutely at his phone, trying to get what he wanted, and seeing it there made his palms sweat.

All Geralt could manage was a short “yes” back, and then watch as another string of emojis popped up.

He wasn’t sure why he was setting himself up to fall. Geralt tugged the blanket off of the back of his sofa and wrapped himself up in it, falling over to his side, watching as Jaskier went off on another tangent of texts he could barely follow the string of thought for.

It was going to hurt when Jaskier decided he wasn’t good enough for him, but Geralt couldn’t help it. He let his hopes soar.

Setting the date for the following weekend had been a mistake. Geralt had likely experienced levels of grief that professionals hadn’t even discovered yet, mourning his idiocy and future regrets and pain. Thinking himself into at least one full breakdown, and then half of one when he’d barely pulled himself together in the drive through while ordering some shitty coffee one morning. Work had been one disaster after another, and he was surprised no one had found him and told him off for suddenly not being so far ahead on his paperwork.

He was still waiting for someone to do just that. Lost in his thoughts and fears, lost in the jokes and tangents that Jaskier was still sending him. A jittery mess at his desk, unable to keep his leg still, forgetting lunch twice and having to grab some fast food that left his chest burning for the rest of the evening.

Thursday and Friday went, and by the time he was home he was an absolute wreck. Considered over and over just canceling in advance, telling Jaskier something had come up and he had to change plans. But then his phone would chime, and he’d get caught up in Jaskier’s messages, and the fear would give way just enough to hope that he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

That didn’t mean he managed to sleep much that night. Tossed and turned even more than usual, until his blanket was on the floor, his leg hanging off the side of his bed while he stared blankly up at the ceiling. Not even listening to his meditation audio helped, the voice droning on in his ears. Usually it helped calm him, and it at least gave him a distraction from his spiraling thoughts and the wet tracks that had trailed down his cheeks.

But Saturday came, and he didn’t want to get out of bed.

He did though. When his phone buzzed next to his pillow, Geralt was fumbling for it before he even processed it. It would be Jaskier, who else would be texting him this early? Work and his family were the only ones who messaged him otherwise anyway, and Eskel and Lambert would have little need of him.

It was, of course, Jaskier. A long, drawn out good morning message, with far more Os than necessary. Geralt sighed back into his pillow with a smile touching his lips, considering how he might reply. Usually he just sent back ‘morning’ but, well...today was special, wasn’t it?

That made a bit of the horror creep back into his chest - what if he ruined it? Ruined it before it even started? But, then...wouldn’t it be easier on the both of them if he did? That thought made him clutch his phone a bit tighter, staring blankly at the screen that had dimmed. Better to cut it off before it hurt them, before Jaskier learned how much of a disappointment he was. How he could never make him happy, give him what he wanted, what he deserved.

Maybe he really should call it off.

The tears were back, and Geralt hated them. Dropped his phone just to press the palms of his hand against his eyes, hoping to push them back and all of the pain with them.

Better to just get it over with. And he picked his phone back up to do just that, trying and failing to unlock the screen twice before he managed to bring up their conversation.

Jaskier had already sent another message though. A picture, because of course it was, he was obsessed with selfies and posing. But this one felt different. More personal than the rest.

He wasn’t wearing some fancy outfit, out in the sunlight laughing or giving the camera a dashing grin. Wasn’t posing with his coffee or showing off the dessert he’d gotten at a nice cafe. He was rather mussed up. Still in bed, shirtless (though Geralt could only tell that because his shoulders were peeking out from beneath the blanket). Chin on his pillow as he stared up at his phone, face still scrunched up and sleepy. He’d just rolled over and taken a picture, not even fully awake, not dressed up like he so loved to be.

Not able to stop his treacherous thumbs, Geralt typed out ‘you’re cute’ before he could stop himself. It was sent and Geralt just stared at his phone again, staring at the lame words he’d sent the only person who had shown him so much as a modecrum of interest in what felt like a lifetime.

Jaskier was typing back almost as soon as he’d sent it, excitement evident by all of the extra exclamation marks he slapped at the end of his sentences. And any hope of cutting it off before it even started was out the window, because just like that he’d hooked himself into Geralt far too deep.

He had a couple of hours to be an absolute mess before he met up with Jaskier. Which meant a couple of hours to sit around and do nothing but text him and try to not panic. It was easier as long as Jaskier wasn’t busy, which conveniently he had nothing to do until their date. Nothing but to get ready, which he was apparently being rather finicky over - even moreso than usual.

It was probably lame, but Geralt just picked one of his work outfits. A button-up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbow, though he skipped the slacks for a pair of jeans. That and with his hair tied back, he was as ready as he’d ever be.

The coffee shop was relatively close to where he lived. Close enough that Geralt decided to walk there instead of drive, to get him out of his apartment, give him plenty of time to regret his choices and also feel overwhelmed by the prospect of finally meeting him. As if he hadn’t met him before, like he hadn’t seen him plenty and heard him laugh from across the room.

Back then, he’d thought nothing of him. Hadn’t realized how easy their conversations would be, how each smile would make Geralt’s heart flutter stupidly in his chest. But here he was, walking to their first date, second and third guessing himself while knowing full well he couldn’t bring himself to stop and turn back now.

He was early by a half hour, but Jaskier had beaten him there. All Geralt could do was stand right in front of the door for a moment, panicked, because Jaskier was laughing. Head thrown back, his hair a purposeful mess that begged for fingers to run through it, a dimple on one of his cheeks as he spoke to the waiter that was taking his order. Everything about him was so alive, so bright despite the dreary sky and dullness of the afternoon, and Geralt wanted to tuck tail and run the other way because he’d just ruin everything.

But Jaskier caught sight of him, and the way his face lit up made Geralt’s chest ache. He practically bounced in his seat as he waved at him, and Geralt was weak, couldn’t help but be drawn right over to him.

“Hi.” Jaskier breathed the single, simple word as Geralt reached their table, fidgeting with one of the many rings he kept on his fingers.

“Hi,” Geralt managed right back, standing there for a few moments, lost in how blue Jaskier’s eyes were. Pictures didn’t do their color justice, and Geralt had seen plenty of pictures of them. His photo gallery was filling up with the endless selfies Jaskier kept sending him, and a few scattered ones of himself that Jaskier had weaseled right back out of him.

Fuck. He was standing there blankly like an idiot. Geralt remembered how to move and slid into the seat across from him, far too late to seem casual. But Jaskier didn’t say anything of it, just continued to play with his rings, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips before a small laugh escaped him.

“You know, I thought through at least, at least, five different conversations with you? Kept thinking about what we might talk about when we finally did this and met up in person. And yet- yet here you are, and suddenly I’ve forgotten everything we’ve ever talked about.” Jaskier laughed again, pink spreading across his cheeks, and the way he looked at Geralt through his eyelashes was almost shy.

Geralt responded before he could even think through his words. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be speechless.” And just like that, he regretted even getting up that morning, because Jaskier was suddenly sputtering.

“Wha- well I- rude.” Jaskier made a few more starts of words and noises, blinking and gesturing with his wrist. “I’ll- I’ll have you know there’s plenty of times I don’t have anything to say. Plenty! Words are hard.”

He really wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so all he did was just look at Jaskier, propping his chin up in the palm of his hand and watching as he started to sputter some more. And then Jaskier’s nose was wrinkling adorably, and he nudged Geralt’s leg with his foot, biting back another grin that threatened to spread on his lips.

“Rude.” Jaskier flipped open the menu he’d had in front of him, “It’s really not my fault you’re so easy to talk to. If you didn’t want me rambling on, then you shouldn’t have been such a good listener. Your fault, you brought this on yourself.”

“Noted,” Geralt said, reaching for his own menu while Jaskier made yet another adorable, faux offended noise.

The rest of the date went by in quips and laughter and easy banter. In some ways it was even easier than their messages, with Jaskier right there, with all of his expressions and never ending words. Geralt thought it was no wonder he used so many faces while texting, because Jaskier could go through the full range of emotions in one single sentence. Every single feeling right there at the end of his sleeve, open and so bright.

It made it easy for Geralt to understand him. He’d always had a bit of difficulty with other’s emotions, figuring out what they needed from him, what they wanted him to just get without saying it flat out. But Jaskier felt so openly, and talked enough for the both of them, not forcing Geralt to say more than he felt like and doing his best to not talk over him either.

Still, it was a bit exhausting, something Geralt felt a bit guilty over thinking. By the end of their date he wanted nothing more than to curl up on his sofa with his headphones in, playing nothing, and just lay in silence for a while. Just to have a bit of peace and quiet after listening to so many words one right after the other - especially since he’d felt obligated to listen to each and every one of them.

“I had a really good time,” Jaskier said to him as they left the cafe together, a soft smile still on his lips, his eyes still crinkled at the edges from all the laughter. Geralt nodded and meant it, because he had too. “We can do it again? I mean, if you want - not specifically this again, just, you know. Date? Go out? See a movie, or have dinner, or stay in and eat shitty pizza until we regret ever ordering it?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

How was Jaskier’s smile still so brilliant after he’d seen it their whole date? It was, though, and Geralt couldn’t help but think he’d love to see it every day. Would love to be the one to make him smile like that, and couldn’t believe he had been.

Jaskier hesitated over something, shifting his weight, and then he reached out and touched Geralt’s face and stole his breath away. His fingers were so light on his cheek, barely there, and they lingered but for a moment before they slipped away again.

“See you,” Jaskier said quietly, and then he added with a soft laugh, “I’ll text you when I’m home?”

And despite having spent two hours doing nothing but talking to him, Geralt couldn’t wait to hear from him again.

Maybe it was foolish to get his hopes up. Maybe it would hurt more this way. But fuck, Geralt’s heart couldn’t stop its fast pace even after he was home, after he was laying and staring up at the ceiling of his living room with his headphones in just so he could hear nothing but quiet.

It was stupid, foolish, inevitably painful. But Geralt wanted to try even if he’d ruin things eventually, and there wasn’t a person he wanted to try more with than the man who already had his phone buzzing away in his pocket.

@fontegagrilledcheese @damnbert @mothmanismyuncle @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskierswolf @sulkyshengshou @trickstermoose67

#geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt de rivia #the witcher #witcher #the witcher fic #witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #witcher fanfic #fanfiction #mywriting

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candied-cae · 2 years

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I've Rambled About the Witcher Once or Twice

This is going to be an ongoing masterlist for all the OFMD stuff my brain does - it's somewhat organized by its subject/style with little descriptions! But if you wanna check out my fics or drabbles... Click Here!

Art: ...

Edits: ...

Clips: ...

Proper Thoughts: ...

The Difference Between The Golden One and Burn, Butcher, Burn - short comparison between the two songs and the hints and context clues it gives on how Jaskier felt and his timeline Post-S1E6 Mountain BreakUp.

I think Jaskier only performed Burn, Butcher, Burn once

I Don't Think Jaskier Really Trusts Geralt Yet - Analysis on the Geralt/Jasker reunion scene and how it looks like Jaskier is still hurting from what Geralt did to him and is still doing

Geralt Moving to Catch Jaskier's Vest - a little ramble on how this scene looks like the first steps Geralt's taking to prove he deserves the second chance he's getting from Jaskier.

Geralt introducing Jaskier and Ciri makes me mad every single time

Wait a Minute, Jaskier did Elven Activism through song? - pulling together context clues from the scene in S2 where Yennefer and Fringilla mention Jaskier's songs to Filavandrel and what that might mean in the grander scheme of his life and career

Jaskier may be Taylor Swift in the Witcher, but if he attended a Mitski Concert he'd be on his knees - excerpts from Mitski's "Nobody" and "Old Friend" why they are super similar to Jaskier's situation.

We deserve a Geraskier SnowWhite!AU

I want Marilka Back - I miss her and I loved her character, especially her profound effect on Geralt following that first episode.

"Have You Ever Shed a Tear Over Anything Elven?" - Massive appreciation post for this incredible line from Francesca to Yennefer with small analysis on why it's important and accurate.

^Pt. 2) this is not to say Elves who "pass" a human should be excluded from the community - further explanation of Yennefer's relationship with her Elven Blood and why she has alienated herself from the community, not the other way around.

Were there Non-Mutant Wolf Cubs Vesemir Raised at Kaer Morhen? - headcanon that since there was no way to tell the Continent that Kaer Morhen lost the ability to make more witchers, there were probably many more boys who were left to the keep who might've been taken in anyway.

People Don't Understand Vesemir? - an analysis on Vesemir's character, motivations, and canon backstory on why I believe it made a lot of sense for him to want to turn Ciri (and others) into Witchers. Minor Spoilers from Netflix's Nightmare of the Wolf.

Yennefer and Cahir's Wanted Posters - Let's look at these for a moment. You try to tell me anyone was going to actually catch them based on these if not for plot reasons and them acting suspicious as hell.

Oh My God, I forgot Yen had siblings, and they could still be alive?!

Why does TWN quote a line from the books that doesn't appear in Season 1? It Doesn't Make Sense. Geralt shouldn't have this quote in the show's Canon

Why I want to like Yennefer, but struggle to sympathize due to many writing choices from S2 - Character Analysis on why Yen being a morallly grey character is already difficult for me, but with what they did with her S2, particularly how they wrote her and Ciri together, I'm really not enjoying her :( Love the Fanon, but in Canon Yen stresses me out

Netflix is making Geralt and Yen look like a married couple who want to/should get divorced, but try bringing a child into the relationship to "fix" them and I hate it

My Critiques of Yennefer and the decisions the show makes with her character are criticisms of the Writing, Showrunner, and Production team. It is NEVER about Anya

I think the writers ruined the dock scene when they killed someone - analysis on the SandPiper scene on the dock and why it makes scene for Jaskier to retaliate, but it looks like he killed someone for being immature.

S1's excessive nudity was atrocious and I am so happy they dialed it back for S2

Silly Stuff:

Jaskier invented icon behavior when he wrote The Golden One

The Golden One is barely in the show and it makes me MAD

The Saddest Death of Season 2 (joke + obvious S2 spoilers)

I'm choosing to believe Jaskier DID "win the hearts of the huntress pair"

Sometimes I cry at my job while I write Angsty Geraskier fanfics on the computer (meme)

If the Continent treated Geralt like TS fans treat J*ke Gyllenh*l after BBB (joke)

My Geraskier fanfics aren't horny, just really S A D (meme)

I watched S1 of The Witcher in my senior year at highschool, and those fanfics had me by the gd neck

The Witcher is just Fantasy Queer Eye because I said so (+ lil sketch)

#Candied-Cae #Cae’s Masterlists #Cae Has Lots of Feelings About The Witcher

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 2 years

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My Thoughts on The Witcher S2 (FULL SEASON)

For a number of the episodes, I was live-writing this post, so some of these comments were in real time so I wouldn’t forget anything.

⚠️ WARNING 1: From Episode 4 onwards, this becomes a Jaskier fangirling post and I’m both sorry and NOT sorry for it ⚠️

⚠️ WARNING 2: Under a read more because of spoilers, please don’t read if you don’t want spoilers! ⚠️

Episode 1 - A Grain of Truth

Not really to do with the episode but I love that Netflix gave us a recap because it’s been about a year since i rewatched most of the episodes and I honestly don’t remember much except for Jaskier because I’m a shameless fangirl 🤷🏻

This is the episode I got to see exclusively on Tuesday but I rewatched with my dad and sister so that’s fun!

Tissaia screaming Yennefer’s name was so upsetting oh my god like the scream was so gutteral and pained, truly an amazing performance

I’m not being funny but I can’t help feeling like they kind of… whited Triss up. I don’t know why. It’s not just the way they’ve changed her hair so it’s redder, but… I don’t know.

Not gonna lie, it’s kind of funny that Ciri is trying to hide and keep a low profile, all the meanwhile she’s still wearing relatively royal clothing while travelling with Geralt, who has yellow eyes

I don’t know why but were Geralt’s eyes always that YELLOW??? It could just be me but I was just looking at his eyes like “wow that’s the colour of bright piss”. There’s also a couple of places throughout the series where the contact lenses kind of bothered me, like they just… didn’t look right or something? I don’t know how to explain it but there seemed to be moments where Geralt’s eyes looked like they were going in different directions, all askew?

I’m really enjoying the beginning of the Geralt and Ciri father-daughter relationship

The bruxa is so terrifying, honestly I really loved how they did the bruxa, she was creepy as fuck

Geralt: *tells Ciri to run and not interfere* // Ciri: lol okay whatevs

The way my jaw dropped at Nivellen revealing he was cursed because he had r*ped a priestess… for some reason I wasn’t expecting it. If it’s mentioned in the book, I apologize, it’s been over a year since I read any Witcher books and I’ve only read 1-3, and I’ve only read those once, so I don’t remember Nivellen’s story that well, just the basic idea of it

It’s the way I just knew that it was elves at the end because I was highly reminded of the Scoia’tael stuff from The Witcher 2 game…

The episode was amazing despite no bard, so this episode sits at a 8/10 for me

Episode 2 - Kaer Morhen

The first half of the episode was alright, second half… not so much?

I love seeing the other Witchers and Papa Vesemir, that’s always fun, and to see the relationship between all of the Witchers is nice!

I’ll talk more in a minute about this but… Eskel, my man, they did you so fucking dirty and I’m so sorry to you and also any Eskel fans. How did they get him so wrong?

Like I can kind of get over the fact they made Coen a Witcher of the School of Wolf instead of School of Griffin, I can move past that… but the way they did Eskel was piss poor. Absolutely piss poor.

Tissaia torturing Cahir was fucking BRUTAL GOD DAMN

The Witchers all truly had a massive prostitute party with Ciri in the keep, on her first night… not quite sure i agree with Eskel getting all of these ladies of the night into Kaer Morhen so easily considering it’s supposed to be this hideaway only for Witchers and it’s in the middle of the mountains but… ???

Let me say it again… Eskel was so appallingly done that it honestly sucked out my enjoyment of the rest of the episode, and I had to step away before watching the next one because my feelings about the how took a HUGE dip

First of all, where was the scarring on his face??? It was so minor! The whole point of the huge ugly scar on his face is supposed to be that he looks terrifying to Ciri and she’s afraid of him - only for him to be the nicest guy. The scar on his face in Netflix is not even noticeable?!?

Personality wise, he’s supposed to be mature, polite even when he disagrees, his mature behaviour regarding Ciri is what endured him to Triss compared to the other Witchers in Blood of Elves, he’s reliable etc. Netflix!Eskel was… not it. He was an asshole in the show, and for some reason Netflix thought translating “ugly face” to “ugly personality” was a good idea?! He was just creepy and completely mischaracterised, and I was so mad about it because how do you get it so fucking wrong?!

I keep forgetting that Yen is part-elf 😭

“The lying bard” - HEY, at least we got A mention of him?

The hut thing is… certainly interesting

So the elf lady Francesca is apparently pregnant and it could be the first pure elf born in a very long time?

Yennefer’s lost her magic?!? 😭

Eskel turning into a leshen tree monster was… a thing.

They killed Eskel off in the same episode they introduced him. Just like that. WHY AND HOW IS THAT A GOOD IDEA?!? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!? He’s in pretty much all the books after Blood of Elves (which this season is based on), how the FUCK have they decided killing him off is a remotely good idea?!!

I really hope to god that we get an actual Leshen later on and NOT whatever the fuck Eskel was

Like I said before, I was so mad about Eskel that I couldn’t watch the next episode after for several hours because I was just so angry and it was making me just view the rest of the show/episode negatively

I’m glad that they’re training Ciri but also… come on, at least take her out of the dress before putting her in training! And let her tie her hair back before you start! Like come on, at least give the poor girl a change of clothes before you start working her!

Again, there was no Jaskier that could have salvaged this mess of an episode, so this episode is probably only 5/10 for me?

Episode 3 - What Is Lost

Tissaia and Yennefer’s reunion 😭❤️

Tissaia just loving and caring for Yennefer like a mother is the kind of content I didn’t know I needed

Man the other Witchers are arseholes to Ciri… they’re blaming Eskel’s death on her for some reason like…???

At least she’s not in a dress while training now, and she’s tied her hair back

Stregebor is an absolute asshole, not gonna lie, and an absolute fucking creep to boot

No but the other Witchers are CRUEL to Ciri, mocking her while she’s training and just being dickheads about the fact she’s a Princess

Ciri eventually crushing most of that trail of death like a boss, you go girl!

The scene where Geralt is tending to Ciri’s wounds is so soft to be honest

Istredd kind of giving me weird vibes I won’t lie, like come on my dude, I think she’s over you now

Why do I feel like Yen is going to do something incredibly fucking bad this season? Like the weird flashes and stuff are just giving me a bad vibe. I’m loving her so far though

ESKEL’S LESHY, AN ACTUAL LESHEN

WAIT HOLD ON THE FUCK IS THAT OTHER THING IT KILLED LESHY

At least Ciri ran away this time when he told her to

RUN CIRI FUCKING RUN FASTER BABE

I don’t know what that thing is but it’s absolutely terrifying. Curious as to why it didn’t immediately kill Ciri when it cornered her, but at least Geralt was there to save the day

Yen is serving some damn looks this season, and I’m all for it

Triss is on an assignment? Kaer Morhen… ? 👀

I wasn’t sure if I wanted her to execute Cahir to be honest? Like there was just something very barbaric about all of these people gathering to watch Yen - who they thought was dead until about a day ago - behead him, including two Kings

SHE FREED HIM OH MY GOD

Yennefer and Cahir teaming up was NOT the twist I expected to be honest

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m saving me” - ASDFGHJKL

While there’s still no bard (god damn it), it was definitely an improvement over last episode so I’ll give it a 7/10

Episode 4 - Redanian Intelligence

Before I start, I’m just praying there’s Jaskier in this episode, let him be important and a spy

Ciri really tripped and face planted the ground 💀

Triss meeting Ciri in the forest, I remember this in the book! When they said last episode that Triss had an assignment, I did wonder if she was going to Kaer Morhen

Mmmm not the Geralt and Triss 😶

“Lambert - I see your wounds have improved but your manners have not” - LMFAO

Is it bad that I kind of want to see Ciri just become “one of the lads” 😂

This show is as political as it should be in regards to the discrimination of elves etc.

Fucking hell that guard really made the elf piss his pants instead of just letting him go in an alley, I’m so mad and upset

Okay but if you’re trying to sneak around and NOT get caught (especially if you’re on Wanted posters), perhaps you shouldn’t wear the vibrant purple and green cloaks? Especially if everyone else is wearing duller coloured clothes?

The second I saw that owl I was like “PHILIPPA?!”

DIJKSTRA!!!

“Aren’t there any herbs or mushrooms for me today?” - Ciri, love, you’re not in a castle as a Princess anymore, I think you should just be happy you’re eating at all

Also now I’m just imagining Geralt going out and attempting to find herbs or mushrooms for her and failing because it’s December 😂

“Helped me with a Princess in trouble” // Geralt to Ciri: nastier than you even - THAT AND THE LITTLE LOOK CIRI GAVE HIM AFTER OH MY GOD I LOVE THEM

Geralt invited Triss to Kaer Morhen to guide Ciri - just like Mousesack did for her mother 😭 I love Geralt and Ciri’s relationship

Coen to Ciri: “Come on you little rat, I’ll play a few rounds of snap with you before bed. Maybe I might even let you win” - THAT WAS SO WEIRDLY UNCLE-Y AND AFFECTIONATE???

Is Dermain (I think that’s his name) using sign language? (I think he is because he definitely did a sign for “pretty” when he said Yen was pretty)

“The Sandpiper is an Angel of refuge for the persecuted” - IS IT JASKIER?! TELL ME ITS HIM

“We get to Oxenfurt, he puts us on a boat” - JASKIER STUDIED AT OXENFURT. IVE CONNECTED THE DOTS! (I haven’t connected shit)

“Oh, outlawed… so definitely not a mage then” LMFAO THE SARCASM GERALT

TRISS PLEASE TELL GERALT YEN IS ALIVE JUST DO IT

Triss really trying to come onto Geralt without telling him Yen is still alive (and let’s be honest she probably knew that he loves Yen) and he’s still grieving -_-

FUCK WAIT NO THE SEWER MONSTER GOT DERMAIN (the mute one using sign language) 😭😭😭 WHAT THE FUCK I LIKED HIM HE WAS SO OPTIMISTIC AND NICE

Deadass thought Cahir and Yen were about to kiss 💀

I HEAR HIM I HEAR JASKIER

“HE PERFORMS HERE EVERY NIGHT” IT HAS TO BE ITS GOT TO BE

IT IS ITS JASKIER MY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been the most beautiful audience! Remember to toss a coin” “*groaning*” LMAO

Yennefer smiling when she knows it’s Jaskier 😭

HES BACK AND HES AS INCREDIBLE AND FIERCE AND AMAZING AS EVER FUCK YES

IM DEADASS JEALOUS OF THE WOMAN TAKING HIS HAT OFF AND PUTTING IT ON HER HEAD 😭

BURN BUTCHER BURN IS A TOTAL BREAK UP SONG I CANNOT-

His face and shaky sighing at the end of the number 😭

OH ITS THE ELF WHO HELPED CIRI IN SEASON 1 (Dara I think?)

Ciri looked so beautiful and she obviously dressed up a bit for Triss, and then Lambert and Coen started making fun of her what the actual fuck, Geralt needs to beat the shit out of his friends-

“You should be ashamed of yourselves” - YOU TELL THEM TRISS

Oh damn Triss went OFF on them, talking about cloths when she gets her blood and how the mushrooms they’re feeding Ciri will deprive her of that before too long… like damn she went OFF

“But the truth is you’re choosing to be ignorant arseholes, aren’t you?” - SHOTS FIRED

Geralt: *handing Ciri a bit of food* They felt bad you didn’t finish your breakfast - AWWW

Jaskier truly giving off rockstar vibes this season and I’m living for it

“Bard.” “Witch.” - BESTIES

THE HUG 😭

“I’m not having this conversation unless I’m drinking”

“It did come from the heart… perhaps a broken one” “we’re better off without him” - TELL ME JASKIER WASNT IN LOVE WITH GERALT AND THAT IT WASNT A BREAK UP 😭

“Yennefer, I’m so sorry. I would not wish that fate on my worst enemy, and yes, you are… firmly lodged in that category, it has to be said, but… what they’ve done to you and your people is unspeakable” - HOW CAN YOU HATE HIM 😭 HIS EMPATHY EVEN FOR SOMEONE HE DOESNT LIKE

“But some people are speaking. There are anonymous benefactors working behind the scenes, helping me, helping us, helping us make this right.” - AGAIN, HOW CAN YALL SAY HES SELFISH AND AWFUL 😭

“I was at the great oak Bleobheris when it was raided. The Seat of Friendship, the druids called it. Where every free thinker was welcome, no matter their race, their creed… They come for the elves, Yennefer. They’ll come for the dwarves. And sooner or later, they will come for everyone. Anyone that they deem the ‘other’, so… eventually… no artist is safe.” - I’m crying. I’m crying because this just reminded me of that post-WW2 poem “First they came for”, and how it ends with “Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.” But also because you could read into this as Jaskier being queer - he’s very queer-coded already, what with the break up one after the mountain scene etc, and so there’s that whole thing of eventually they could come for him I guess? Tell me this isn’t some kind of low-key coming out???

“The man, the myth, the legend” - DAMN RIGHT HE IS ☺️

Jaskier’s smile at her 😭

Can we appreciate how 100% ready Jaskier was to throw that bottle when he thought Cahir coming in was a threat to Yennefer? 😭

“I’ll do what I can” - I LOVE HIM

“You both smell truly awful. I mean, it is like something has crawled up your asses and died” - LMFAO I LOVE HIM

I am so not here for Geralt x Triss like girl please :|

“I’m gonna do what I do best” “what’s that?” “Oh I never really know, that’s why I’m so good at it” - LOL

Jaskier using his famous songs to get out of giving papers 😂

“My niece just loves them!” - I’m that guard’s niece 😂

Jaskier’s “oh that’s lovely” is how Joey Batey reacts to people complimenting his band’s music 😭❤️

“That one, it’s not your strongest” “… oh yeah?” - GOD NO DUDE STOP TALKING + JASKIER PLEASE WALK AWAY HES NOT WORTH IT

“Am I gonna say it? Yeah, I’m gonna say it” - NOOO BUT ALSO IM GONNA DIE LAUGHING OH MY GOD

“If you could write yourself a little song, you could sing yourself whatever you please, but you can’t, can you? Because you are a dockside scapegrace, a qualling feculent, a beef witted, hell hated, addlepated goon…” “… and a waste of your father’s…” “… And maybe, just maybe, you are grateful to be entertained!” - JASKIER LOVE PLEASE NOT NOW I LOVE YOUR DIATRIBE BUT ALSO NOW IS NOT THE BEST TIME

“You’re a hero to my niece. Practically worships you.” “Her favourite bard” - I AM LITERALLY THIS MAN’S NIECE 😂

Also: “practically worships you” “naturally” - JASKIER LMAO

Nooo they beat the shit out of Ba’lian 😭 he really sacrificed himself so everyone else could get on that boat to Cintra, and Jaskier looks so sad as he backed away, so regretful because he knew he couldn’t do anything :(

Those flowers sprouting where Elder blood has been spilt… where Ciri has been injured…

“Destiny has given us a gift… the key to making more Witchers. Ciri.” - UMM, Vesemir I don’t think that’s the takeaway from this you should have?!?

Jaskier helping the elves down the ladder into the boat and softly saying “it’s all right, you’re safe, you’re safe, are you alright?” is just so soft and sweet. I don’t understand how people can watch this show and hate him, he’s such a good person

Jaskier and Dara meeting, Dara says “thank you, we’d all be dead without you”and Jaskier is like “it’s lovely to meet you, Dara, I expect you to do great things” :3

THE EYEBROW RAISES I LOVE HIM 😭❤️

(After finding out Yen’s lost her magic) “Once upon a time, I would have used this opportunity to call you an empty, lonely, power hungry she-demon, but… I’m an artist, Yennefer. It’s my job to put myself in other people’s shoes. Even if they are, in your case, large, clunky, and, I don’t know, probably full of snakes or something. I’m scared too. I’m scared that one day the muses will stop speaking to me… because who are we… when we can no longer do the one thing we were put on this continent to do?” - STOP, JASKIER, YOURE MAKING MY HEART HURT 😭❤️

“Chaos could never be done with the likes of you, Yennefer of Vengerberg” - IM NOT SAYING THIS IS A SHIP BUT HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS JASKIER-YENNEFER CONTENT ❤️

WAIT WHY IS JASKIER SCREAMING “OH NO”?! WHY DID THE SUBTITLES SAY LUTE STRINGS JANGLE?! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BARD 😩

HIS LUTE JUST LYING ON THE FLOOR YEN PLEASE GO AND SAVE HIM PLEASE

IS THIS LEADING TO HIM BEING TORTURED LIKE IN BLOOD OF ELVES 😭

The full Burn Butcher Burn playing over the credits ❤️🔥 am I going to watch all the credits just to hear him sing? You bet your ass!

FINALLY BARD CONTENT AND IT WAS BEAUTIFUL, YENNSKIER CONTENT, 8.5/10 just because I’m hoping the coming episodes improve!

Episode 5 - “Turn Your Back”

It’s always fun when an episode opens with distant wailing and screaming 🤡

Oh wait wait wait is this that fire dude? Rience? (It is)

I’m just remembering what happened in Blood of Elves and how it was Rience who tortured Jaskier so I know exactly what direction this is headed :(

EYYY ITS JASKIER SINGING FROM LAST EPISODE

“When I was a lass, me playmate had a little brother that was born with no ears. (…) I’d give anything to switch places with him right now” - 😂😭 stop making him the butt of your jokes, Netflix, he’s amazing!

Noooo not Rience being there when Jaskier was performing 😭 we’re absolutely going towards that torture scene, aren’t we?

Okay so it’s giving us some little flashbacks to last episode but from different POVs: so Rience there while Jaskier was performing, Geralt and Istredd…

“Jaskier, where the fuck are you?” - SAME YEN, SAVE HIM PLEASE

Noooo they’re stringing up that elf from last episode 😭

YEN NO DONT LEAVE THE BARD HE NEEDS YOU

The finger snapping flames are so scary omg and Jaskier’s just sitting there panicking omg I want to help him

“Or if this is about your wife, your mistress, niece, then I- I- I can— I can promise you that wasn’t me” - I don’t know whether to laugh or cry god damn it

The torture scene hasn’t even BEGUN and Joey is already making me want to cry 😭 he’s so talented at the dramatic material, it makes me sad that people just see Jaskier as comedic relief

YEN DIDNT LEAVE OH THANK GOD… she’s gone to a lady of the night for help which is… interesting

“Any little shit-birds under the name of Jaskier” but in an almost affectionate way, no?

Istredd to Geralt: “Are you always this talkative or should I take it personally?” - LMFAO

The sheer force it apparently takes to shatter a monolith… the sheer power Ciri must have then, oh my god!

Geralt patting that horse as he walks past, he really is a horse girl isn’t he

To be fair to Ciri, I would also rather do physical training in the snow with a wooden sword than sit indoors with Triss doing magic practice 😬 no offence to Triss but… yeah

Triss has a point, they don’t know if Elder Blood can make Witcher mutagen and I don’t like that Vesemir is wanting to use Ciri for that purpose

Here’s the thing… I could be wrong but I was under the impression that on some level at least, Vesemir was almost glad that there was no longer any way to create more Witchers due to the mutagen recipe being long lost or whatever. I always thought he must have found it painful to watch all of these boys go through the trials where most of them died, and that there’s a reason he didn’t attempt to find a way to create more over the following years. I could be totally wrong but… yeah. I could be completely wrong though.

^ for this reason, I’m not sure how I feel about this whole “Vesemir wants to use Ciri’s blood to make new Witchers”. If someone with more knowledge of the books can maybe explain or offer more insight then I’d be grateful!

“I liked you better when you were a cynical old codger” - not gonna lie, me too, Triss

Yen wanting to help the elf mother and daughter being separated but not being able to because of her magic being gone 😭

NOOOO WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BARD

The blood spilling from his mouth 😭😭😭

His whimpering and voice breaking are so upsetting to me I can’t take it

NO LEAVE HIS HANDS ALONE HE DOESNT DESERVE THIS

“He does not have friends” - *flashbacks to Geralt telling Jaskier they’re not friends* 😭

Joey Batey really proving his fucking talent with this torture scene, like honestly if I see one more person say he’s a bad actor or only good for songs and comic relief, I will fucking scream

No but Jaskier’s relieved half-laugh when a glass smashed and distracted Rience for a second 😭 it was like a “oh thank the gods thank the gods thank the gods” kind of relieved laugh full of pain

Yennefer pretending to be Jaskier’s wife is content I didn’t know I needed but here we are, they’re really feeding this whole enemies-to-fake-marriage trope

Jaskier saying “leave her out of this” even though he knows she can handle herself and most likely has a plan 😭

The way Jaskier panicked and yelled “no no! No, please! Don’t hurt her! Leave her alone, please! She’s done nothing!” When Rience grabbed Yen and flicked a flame 😭

OH SHIT SHE BLEW HIS OWN FIRE BACK ONTO HIS FACE, EVEN WITHOUT MAGIC YEN IS A BADASS

It’s the way Yen rescued Jaskier for me even though she didn’t need to 😭❤️

“It takes generations of erosion to even make a dent in stellacite.” - CIRI IS ONE POWERFUL CHILD JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THE SIZE OF THAT GAP IN THE GROUND

Not being funny but I’m not sure I trust Vesemir giving Ciri any food or drink right now 😶

“You’re impressing all of us out there” - damn right she is, Ciri is a little badass

Ciri’s going to do it? Use her blood to help try and make new Witchers??? Girl, you serious???

“You have to test it on me first” - I DONT THINK THATS SAFE, THEY ONLY EVER DO IT ON BOYS, NEVER GIRLS… although, I wonder why it’s only on boys? Apparently the Cat school does take girls but…?

Vesemir’s flashback to the boys going through the trials and him saying “forget it” because it’s just not worth it

“I’ll not take that chance with you” “because I’m a girl?” “because you’re Geralt’s child” “I’m not a child” “because we care about you” - okay I’m glad they’re not making Ves semi-evil here and that they’ve said all of them do care about Ciri

“You mages don’t all share an alma mater? You didn’t catch him at the last alumni event?” - JASKIER 😂

“You don’t get to play damsel in distress… that’s my job” 😂 oh Jaskier

Yen: *kicks man in the shins* / Jaskier: Ohhh she’s so scary! - ngl he sounded kind of into it 😂

“Gentlemen, Gentlemen, many men have wanted to punch me in the face. Now is your chance, come on!” - HES SO CHAOTIC I LOVE HIM ❤️ also the fact he was giving Yennefer the chance to escape before him despite the fact he’s been tortured for hours is so lovely, I love that about him

Nooo that prostitute woman sold Yen out and the guards got her >:(

I know she won’t actually go through with it but urhhh Ciri don’t do it, there’s other ways

Okay but the Dol Durza (valley of the soul) sounds pretty dope, I won’t lie - genetic memories, where we come from, not dangerous etc

Okay actually this does seem kind of scary to be honest like it really took a turn and went into babies crying and glitchiness, and even Triss like “this isn’t how it’s supposed to work?”

PAVETTA AND EMHYR DUNY?? BABY CIRI??

Okay this REALLY took a turn and became scary, holy crap

“Yen’s alive?” - OH SHIT HE KNOWS NOW 😭

“Time of Contempt is nigh” - isn’t that the title of the fourth witcher book???

IS THAT THE WILD HUNT OR AM I PROJECTING

THE TREE OF WITCHER MEDALLIONS IS CRACKING AND THAT CHASM GERALT/ISTREDD ARE IN IS CRUMBLING

“Something is ending. It’s because of you. A seed that bursts into flame. It’s you. You will destroy us all” - Jesus Christ, also Triss you could have been nicer about it instead of stopping her from coming closer??? This was your stupid fucking idea???

OH SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT MONSTER SUPPOSED TO BE

VESEMIR DO NOT DO IT

LITTLE BRIEF FLASHBACKS TO GERALT’S TRIAL I CANNOT

Oh thank fuck Geralt stepped in and stopped it

“You are already enough, Cirilla. You are extraordinary” “I want to be like you, Geralt” - awwww(?)

We need more Geralt and Ciri moments, I’ll be honest

I can’t decide if Fringilla and Francesca teaming up and being partners is a good thing or a bad thing… ?

Jaskier going out of his way to try and save Yennefer and yelling her name when she disappeared 😭

“Fucking, fucky, fuck” - LMAO SAME. Also he heard her saying the hut chant-thing?

“Peeping Toms get the clink” - OH SO THATS HOW HE ENDS UP IN PRISON

This deathless mother thing seems fucking suspect

“Steal what?” “Me” - CIRI??? She has to steal Ciri and deliver her to the shattered black door outside Cintra??? Just so she can get her magic back???

No but is Yen going to do it? -_- I was hoping we’d see her have SOME motherly instinct towards Ciri at least but is she actually going to steal Geralt’s Child of Surprise and sacrifice her just to get her powers back? Yen, come on, there’s better ways surely…

I feel like I’ve got to give this episode 7.8/10. Even though I haven’t read all the books, the stuff onscreen is supposedly based on the books I have read and it’s… not quite matching up. But Jaskier makes it ten times better just by appearing and Joey’s performance is one of the ones absolutely CARRYING this show.

Episode 6 - Dear Friend…

Is… Is Roach okay? She keeps neighing (why yes I’m seriously debating the horse’s health because she’s neighing more than usual)

WHOA THE CHERNOBOG?!? THE FUCK IS THAT

NO NO NO WHAT NO NOT ROACH FUCK OFF FUCK OFF FUCK OFF

RIENCE IN KAER MORHEN FUCK AND HE ATTACKED VESEMIR

NO NO NO NO NOT ROACH I FUCKING HATE THIS SHOW FUCK OFF

Geralt having to slit Roach’s throat 😭

Damn the way Geralt killed the Chernobog was super badass ngl

Okay so Cahir has shaved and cleaned up now, interesting 🤔

Aaaaand now he’s going to hunt down Ciri :/ just when I was starting to warm up to Cahir

Ooh it’s the temple of Melitele… does this mean we’re going to see Nenneke?

“I’m impressed” “I do in fact read” - LMAO CIRI

Mother Nenneke is just about exactly how I envisioned her being I love her already

“Ask him (Geralt) to tell you about the Aard incident. It nearly destroyed the very office you’re sitting in” *pointing to crack in wall* - LMAO I LOVE IT, MORE EMBARRASSING GERALT STORIES FROM NENNEKE PLEASE

“I don’t see any side upon which you are not entirely fucked” - I FUCKING ADORE NENNEKE LMFAO

“And if she has Elder Blood, she’s a fucking tinder box” - SHE IS SO FOUL MOUTHED HOLY SHIT I LOVE HER 😂 literally zero fucks given

“I don’t want to brag but my tool is… bigger. And much more powerful.” “…” “Uh… Knowledge” - THAT WAS NOT CIRI’S FIRST THOUGHT AND IT WAS NOT MINE EITHER, DO BETTER AT PHRASING STUFF MATE

Jarre: *drops book* // Ciri: Your big old tool nearly broke my toe - LMFAO

YENNEFER IS AT THE TEMPLE?!? And she’s seen Ciri??? Don’t do it Yen! Please do NOT

This whole “Yen wanting to sacrifice Ciri” storyline is so dumb and OOC - not just in regards to the books but even just as in the journey of the characters in the show and their development. The whole thing in S1 of Yen not hurting the dragon when she realized it had eggs/was protecting its babies, how in the first half of this season she’s gone on to prove that even without her magic, she’s a badass with huge worth. So for her to be all “lmao I’m definitely considering stealing Geralt’s child of surprise and sacrificing them to some dodgy elf magic just so I can get my powers back” is such sloppy writing

Oh look, Geralt and Yen reuinion… okay, I guess 🤷🏻 NOOO NOT CIRI WALKING IN ON THEM SNOGGING LOL

“And you must be his… Child Surprise” - WHY ARE THEY MAKING YEN LOW-KEY EVIL WHAT THE FUCK NETFLIX

THE BABY IS EARLY HOLY SHIIIIIT OH MY GOD

“I used to own a stuffed one (unicorn)… until it broke under mysterious circumstances” - *flashes back to TW3 with Geralt and Yen and the stuffed unicorn 😬

You know, the three of them sitting at a table and chatting is almost family-like, if only Yen wasn’t planning to do something monumentally OOC like sacrificing Ciri to get her magic back 🥴

Geralt and Yen: *eye sex across table* // Ciri: Umm… I’m going to go to bed - 😂

Not being funny, I don’t trust Yen being within two feet of Ciri on her own at this point

Francesca had the baby and it wasn’t breathing at first but then it started crying when Fringella held it, and I let out this huge breath I didn’t know I was holding 😭

“A new elf was born this night” *IMMEDIATE CHEERING FROM ALL THE ELVES*

Ciri lit a candle of remembrance for Roach and Mousesack 😭 Roach deserved so much better, smh

“How soon should we expect him?” “Any day now.” - ARE WE GOING TO SEE EMHYR/DUNY THIS SEASON

It’s the way Geralt’s mood shifted to concern when Yen said she had run into Jaskier and he’d been in some kind of trouble 😭❤️

I love that Geralt called Yennefer out on her heartbeat racing the whole time and on her real reasons for being at the temple

“They didn’t build a weapon, they built a warrior” - THEY TALKING ABOUT CIRI

It’s so funny anytime someone talks to owl!philippa I won’t lie 😂 it just looks kind of hilarious

Not Rience and the soldiers coming into a fucking temple to take Ciri 😳

“Take Ciri” - Mmmm is that really a good idea, Geralt? 🤔

Okay but this fight scene is fucking AWESOME

I was so happy because I thought “oh yen is teaching Ciri something, awww”… but nope, Yen is stealing Ciri away to sacrifice her! Because of course she is!

I’m not just saying this because no Jaskier, but like… Urgh. I really don’t like how the writers are writing this season, they’re really deviating from the books and it’s not good. I’m giving this one a 6.7/10 because it was alright but I’m not a fan of some of the choices the writers are making.

Episode 7 - Voleth Meir

This better be the Jaskier shirtless episode smh

Nenneke caring for Geralt’s wounds is so soft

“Do you believe Yennefer means to harm the girl?” “I wish Yennefer knew the balance you speak of” - Yeah, no, Yennefer is going to do a bad thing. This is a bad decision on the writers part smh I’m already mad less than two minutes in

Oh nooo Rience burnt those nice people Ciri stayed with at the end of the last season 😭

I am just so angry about this Yennefer storyline with the Deathless Mother and getting her magic back, like come on Yen! You are not stupid! Surely it’s blindly obvious how fucking stupid this idea is? How suspect all of this is?!!

I’m really bad with names but DAMN who is Tissaia’s boy toy?!? Has he been introduced before?

HAKE HUNG THAT WOMAN JUST FOR WANTING FOOD WHAT IN THE FUCKING FUCK

ITS JASKIER’S MICE ITS HIM IN JAIL

Whoreson Prison Blues is a GIFT, especially the spoons!

I won’t lie, first time I heard this song, I thought he was saying “suck me up” and was like 😏

“Guys, your harmonies were a little pitchy. Gordon, you’re amazing, talent recognizes talent” 😂😂😂

*sees fight going on outside his cell* *carries on singing* *fighting continues* “Fucking hell! You know what? We’re trying to rehearse in here! Gentlemen, I am so sorry, give me a moment.” - HES UNHINGED I FUCKING ADORE HIM

“Good sir, you would not know talent if I shoved it up you… Geralt!” - THE TIMING OF THAT DELIVERY WAS SPOT ON IM WEEPING

Also the way his voice changed when he said Geralt’s name 😭 he’s still so upset about what happened on the mountain

The Geraskier reunion 😭❤️ “…Fuck it.” *hugs him* BEAUTIFUL

“Last time we saw each other, you basically told me to fuck off. Remember? And you left me on a mountain. Have you seen these boots? I mean, I pretty much just slid all the way down that hill back to Caingorn!” “Don’t fucking Jaskier me! I’m talking to you.” - WHY HAS HE GOT THE BEST LINES and also YES KING, CALL HIM OUT

Jaskier saying goodbye to his mice and saying Geralt is jealous 😂

Ciri just wants to save Geralt because she thinks he’s in trouble 😭 “he’s the father I never had. When I’m with him, I don’t feel alone anymore” - WE LOVE A FOUND-FATHER-DAUGHTER DUO

Let them sit in peace and name their new elf baby for fuck sake 😤

I have a horrible feeling something awful is gonna happen to that baby…

Stregobor is really that fucking pressed over a little baby, all these mages are fucking dicks :|

Don’t know if I’ve already said it but Lydia gives me weird bad vibes -_- do not trust her at all, given that she’s experimenting with Ciri’s blood

OH OUI OUI OUI ITS THE SHIRTLESS SCENE HOLD ON

FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK 🔥🥵💦

THIS IS BLESSED FAN SERVICE

“yOu cOuLd hAnG pOrTrAiTs oFf mY nIpPlEs rIgHt nOw” - GOD FUCKING DAMN IT JASKIER NOW IVE GOT THAT IMAGERY IN MY HEAD (also was that ad-libbed??? That seemed ad-libbed?????)

I… will be honest. I had to rewatch the scene a few times with subtitles because, quite frankly, I was NOT focused on the dialogue at all. I heard not a single word of their conversation the first few times, like not a single word. But can you blame me, I mean honestly?!?

I 1000% watch this show for pLoT… (The plot:

“I trust her about as far as I could wring her stringy weird neck.” - the way he wrung out his shirt… I need Jesus

“She’s got a lot of hair that woman” - LMAO

His “FUCK” thinking she may not have been lying about losing her magic… I felt a stirring I should not have

“She wouldn’t.” “She would. What? Sacrifice your Child Surprise to get her magic back? You bet your bloated biceps she would” - IM GOING TO EXPIRE

*axe hits Jaskier’s shirt* “someone really didn’t like my shirt” - ITS ME. KEEP THE SHIRT OFF BABES

It’s Yarpen! From the mountain episode!

I love Jaskier re-introducing himself with his full name yet again and Yarpen cutting him off with “yeah! I know!” 😂

BEARDED DWARF WOMEN!!!! (Gimli would be proud?!?!) and Jaskier totally wiggling his fingers at her lmao

“Good to see you all again… I have absolutely no recollection of any of these people” - ME AT EVERY SOCIAL GATHERING EVER 😂

NOT SOMEONE CALLING JASKIER A WANKER UNDER THEIR BREATH LMAO

Is that black horse going to be the new Roach??? “You’re not my usual type… but you’ll do” 😭

I really want to enjoy seeing Ciri and Yen together but it’s just tainted by the fact Yen wants to sacrifice Ciri -_- and you want me to root for Geralt/Yennefer??? Really???

THE BLOOD COMING FROM CIRI’S EYES THE ACTUAL FUCKING HELL

Tissaia wanting to protect her girls and not just use them even though her partner wants her to 😭❤️

FRINGILLA PUT NIGHTSHADE IN ALL OF THEIR MEADS OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD SHE PUT THE KNIFE IN THAT DUDE’S EYE HOLY FUCK // SHES JUST STRAIGHT UP KILLING ALL OF THESE PEOPLE AT THE TABLE WHAT THE FUCK (I’m guessing it has to do with the deathless mother shit going on I’m not quite 100% sure what that’s all about anymore)

“Look, I understand that what’s-her-demon wants to eat your Child Surprise and all and I’m happy to help save her” - bless Jaskier ☺️

“And what about Yennefer?” “If she’s hurt Ciri, I may just have to kill her” - PROTECTIVE FATHER MODE ACTIVATED

“That’s what friends do… they come back” - oh Jaskier sweetie 😭

“And I’m sorry, Jaskier” - FUCKING FINALLY

Jaskier’s Geralt impression was so spot on lmfao 😂

Yennefer please don’t fucking deliver her to the black door

Ciri finally realizing Yennefer lied to her and tricked her and she’s rightfully mad

“I was stupid and I was selfish” - DAMN RIGHT

“I don’t trust you” - and I don’t blame Ciri honestly, that was a fucking shitty thing to do, Yen

Oh thank god for Geralt coming to the rescue 😅

JASKIER CATCHING THAT DUDE’S HEAD AND IMMEDIATELY DROPPING IT, SAME BABES

“Jaskier, take her (Ciri) to Kaer Morhen” - GERALT TRUSTS JASKIER TO KEEP CIRI SAFE 😭 FUN UNCLE/GODFATHER JASKIER PLEASE

“Ah, the Child Surprise I’ve heard so much about-… (Ciri blanking him completely) like father like daughter” - awww nooo bless 😭

WAIT WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO THE ELF BABY WHAT THE FUCK DID IT DIE WHO MURDERED IT

Okay so the Deathless Mother escaped and I think it’s possessed Ciri or some shit because her eyes glowed vibrant green?

Honestly, Jaskier’s shirtless scene and song aside… hmm. It seems like the show is reverting back to making him the comic relief again, which I’m not a fan of. I liked getting to see the more dramatic stuff for Jaskier that allowed Joey to show off his acting chops, but the writers are leaning back on that crutch again of “lol he’s comic relief haha” which is so sad. I’m glad Yen seems at least somewhat apologetic for what happened but it shouldn’t have been a thing in the first place.

If I had to give this one a rating… maybe 8.5/10? It’s a bit messy but I’m giving it extra points just for that bathing scene alone, and for the mice AND the song.

Episode 8 - Family

Is this a dream? Also hi Mousesack, long time no see! And damn, I always forget how long Ciri’s full name is 😂

“It makes you feel like you’d do anything” “including sacrificing an innocent child” - OOOOH DAMN

The Yenralt fans are really NOT having a good time this season, huh?

I’m sorry, what the fuck??? Ciri’s on some kind of murder rampage? Just straight up actually killing all the Witchers in Kaer Morhen? (I know she’s possessed but still!)

Ciri straight up just slashed Geralt across the face like damn (if she touches the bard I’m quitting this show)

Hold on a second, the subtitle in this episode says “Eskell” and not “Eskel”… can we pretend it’s a different character please 😭 because Netflix butchered the real Eskel so badly

Oh thank the GODS, Jaskier is still okay (and hugging a bottle to sleep 😅)

Also sleepy Jaskier is so soft 🥺

“The last time I woke up next to you, you grabbed me by the balls and then blew up the building so…” - LMAO TRUE

“My head feels like it’s lodged between the buttocks of a fat and sexually rageful goat” - IM WHEEZING

“Golden Oriole.” “Golden what? Areola? Pretty sure that’s got something to do with nipples… then again, if it were up to me, everything would be about nipples” - THATS TWO EPISODES IN A ROW HE’S MENTIONED NIPPLES, JASKIER, ARE YOU OKAY?! Bit of a fetish going on here???

“… Tell me what to do.” - the way his whole mood/demeanour changed completely and was so ready to do whatever he could even though he’s not a mage or Witcher or anything like that 😭 he just wants to help however he can

Okay but WHY is Francesca so important to Fringilla? 👀 no?

Wait, did Fringilla kill the baby?!?! Was this part of her plan???

Jaskier running in and seeing that there’s a full on confrontation about to down and just going, “shhhhhit. You’re busy. Yeah, you’re busy.” And excusing himself lmfao

“What the fuck kinda basilisks are those?!” - me too, honestly; me too. I have not a clue what’s going on anymore.

Jaskier hiding under a table 😭 and I’m just panicking over him omg

“Right the wrongs?! Well, Yennefer, I don’t see how things could get any wronger!” - how is he still cracking jokes when he’s in a ridiculous amount of danger, Jesus Christ

THE AMOUNT OF WITCHER DEATHS FUCK

“Yennefer told me to give you this, it’s balance and heat and… Oh, you can’t hear me!” - GERALT LISTEN TO JASKIER FOR FUCK SAKE

Francesca killing all the Redanian babies like STOP WITH THE BABY DEATHS NETFLIX FUCK SAKE WHAT THE FUCK

Honestly at this point, I would just kill Ciri, she ain’t worth it at this point 😭

Wait I didn’t think Vesemir would actually stab her wtaf 😳 (but she healed herself so she’s okay)

YEN SLITTING HER WRISTS SO THE DEATHLESS MOTHER WENT INTO HER INSTEAD LIKE WHAT

Interesting that Pavetta (her mum) was fading away but Duny (dad) wasn’t I don’t think… 👀

“Oh no not again” - me too Jaskier, me too

WILD HUNT AGAIN?!?

“You’re back. Are you alright?” - and the way he caught Yennefer 😭 Jaskier is the sweetest omg

Am I supposed to be watching all of these Jaskier and Yen moments and NOT shipping them or 👀

And of course Yen has her powers back again. Because of course she does!

“Look at us! Just one big happy family, eh?” “No.” - I chuckled a bit but honestly I’m actually super tired of Jaskier being the butt of every joke now. It’s getting ridiculous -_-

So Tissaia is totally in on this plan to put a bounty on Ciri’s head and anyone who’s with her?

Oh shit, Lydia’s face got fucked uP Jesus Christ

I KNEW IT WAS PHILIPPA EILHART (side note: DAMN, she looks fine as hell!)

Dijkstra: “Bring me the bard, it’s about time he paid back his benefactor” - SPY JASKIER, SPY JASKIER

“I don’t forgive you, Yennefer” - I shouldn’t have snorted like I did. Like yeah, you did sacrifice yourself for her - after you were going to sacrifice her that is!

I would honestly be totally fine if there were no romances in this show and it focused solely on Geralt and Ciri’s father-daughter dynamic

“I’m just tired, geralt” “I’m tired too, Ciri” - BITCH, me too, it’s 5am while I’m watching this 😤

“How do they (Nilfgaard) know the truth about you, Ciri?” - me, who has played the witcher 3 and knows who Emhyr is: 🤷🏻🤔

“It was the best path to helping me find my daughter” Me: *pretends to be shocked*

I am genuinely curious as to how Duny became Emhyr like I really want to know how he went from hedgehog dude to that fucking asshole Emperor dude and I’ve been saying it since I played TW3

I just KNEW they’d end it on that “cliffhanger”. Just knew it.

I’ve rated all the others so it might be an idea to rate this one… ehhh. Well. Honestly, I have to give it 7/10 I think. Again, I’m awarding generous points to Jaskier’s small parts that we should have had more of. The battle scenes were gory and cool to watch, ditto for those monsters, but plot wise I felt it lacked in places or was written badly?

And that is it… season 2 of The Witcher.

So… I’m in two minds about it to be honest. Did I hate it completely? No, it was watchable. I will rewatch it because my dad and sister are watching it, so I’ll end up seeing 3-8 again soon with them. I think if I hadn’t read the books or even played TW3, I’d probably have enjoyed it a bit more but unfortunately there’s the books to compare it to, and it kind of falls flat in places. Episode 1 felt like an incredible start, and I was so excited after watching it to see the rest of the episodes. Episode 2 started okay but went downhill pretty quickly, and the rest of the episodes were kind of all over the place.

I am very biased so of course I’m going to praise the absolute shit out of Jaskier/Joey. But I do honestly feel he’s the highlight of this show and the biggest - if not the only - reason I’m personally watching because he brings so much life and energy to his scenes. As I said earlier, I really do wish that the writers hadn’t reverted back to making him the comic relief, especially after we got to see a more serious side of him in the earlier episodes, plus the torture scene. And while the shirtless lake scene was fucking amazing, I do think they put it in to distract from the fact they were severely underusing him as a character. Yeah, Joey is extremely attractive - but we want to see him singing and acting and having an actual part with real significance as well, not just putting a shirtless scene in and saying “well, that’s enough of him! Moving on!” And I mean, the comedic stuff Joey does with the role is great, don’t get me wrong, but come on… he’s a Shakespeare trained performer. We’ve seen in the show that he can pull of the darker and more intense stuff as well, so give him the chance to show it off!

Overall, it’s not the worst I’ve watched, but here’s my issue: if it’s different from the source material, fine - but don’t then advertise the show as being close to the books, don’t keep saying “we went back to books to look this up” and “we really stayed true to the books” if it’s not true. That’s what’s irritating me. If I’d known going in that it wasn’t going to be a accurate to the books as they advertised, then I might have been able to enjoy this series more - but because there were interviews and all sorts of the show runner and cast saying how accurate it is to the books, I went in with a totally different mindset and expectations. I’m not a book purist by any means, I haven’t even READ all the books at the moment, but I had read Blood of Elves and so I had expectations about what we’d be seeing… just say it’s a loose adaptation in the future, save a lot for backlash and negativity!

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #henry cavill #anya chalotra #freya allan #joey batey #lambert #vesemir #the witcher netflix #geraskier #yennskier

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patroclusdefencesquad · 2 years

Note

I don’t really understand why you’re surprised? It’s not the writers fault (other things are but not this) that fanon has built Jaskier up so high in their heads. The fandom has been warned so many times that Jaskier is a side character and comic relief - all the promotional stuff had shown that he’s not in the core characters. I’m happy with what we got because I had normal expectations going in for how often we’d see him. At the end of the day people can obviously be upset they didn’t get to see their fave, but to be so pissed when they brought fanon expectations on themselves is strange. His character is utilized almost exactly how he is utilized in the books. In fact I think the show fleshes him out more since we almost never get to see his actions outside of Geralts point of view (only a few times) and almost never get insight into his feelings in the books

no, I get where you're coming from and I agree, jaskier is completely built up out of fanon and yes, a lot of my upset is because of how important he is to me personally. however, I went into this season with no expectations because I'm totally aware that he is NOT a main character, or even an important one.

a lot of the promotion for his character this season was based off of him NOT merely being comic relief and him having his own story going on. which yeah he did. for about 5 seconds. I found his characterisation to be contradictory - one minute he's competent and has depth, the next he's completely blowing the plan over an insult to his singing - and tbh he was unnecessary in most of his scenes after that (and I really hate saying that, bc as we've gathered, I love him). I'm not saying I want him to be a main character and save the day, I have fan fiction for that, and I don't even want him to have more screentime, but I do want him to have a purpose within the story. I'm hoping that's the case for season 3 because he seems to be involved with dijkstra, but for season 2 I just didn't like it. sorry. maybe it's just the season in general I'm dissatisfied with and I'm taking it out on the poor bard but 🤷‍♀️

#el asks #the witcher spoilers

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

"I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met." memory loss angst? 👉👈🥺

anon... fam, this turned into an emotional rollercoaster and totally stole my braincell.

3.8k words. angst with a happy ending.

tw: memory loss, minor anxiety, repressed memories, idiots to lovers, whump, angst with a happy ending, angst with a fluffy ending

---

It’s been three hours, five minutes, and forty-two seconds since the frigid breeze whipped Geralt’s angry words at him, shattering his fragile, stupid heart to pieces. Every syllable rings through Jaskier’s head over and over, slamming into him from all directions and crippling him with a bone-deep pain far worse than anything he’s ever felt before. The ache ebbs and flows, lancing through him with every step. Not even Geralt’s first frustrated blow to his abdomen had been this terrible.

Geralt… That’s the problem, isn’t it? He hadn’t been smart enough to get out of the gorgeous Witcher’s long, silvery hair soon enough. He’d overstayed his welcome, fallen in love in the meantime, and is now very out of sorts (and also alone in unfamiliar territory). The bard laughs but it’s a hollow sound. Jaskier has reached the edge of hysteria, his intelligent blue eyes now vacant and unseeing. Even as he stumbles through the underbrush, all he can picture is the snarl on Geralt’s face as the Witcher yells at Destiny to take Jaskier off his hands.

Jaskier’s own hands are covered in sap and splinters from pushing tree branches away from his face as he traverses the darkening forest. His hair is full of debris and his clothes are torn and dirty; Geralt has all of his emergency supplies, still. Jaskier is pretty sure that his lute is still strapped over his shoulder but he realizes, with no small amount of surprise, that he doesn’t actually care.

He doesn’t have the capacity anymore.

He can’t care… caring hurts too much.

If only Destiny had taken him off Geralt’s hands. Maybe then it would be okay. Maybe then, if Geralt was well and truly free of him and his irritating presence, the Witcher could be happy. He and Yennefer will surely come back around, they always seem to, and Ciri will be joining them soon enough it seems.

There’s no need - no room - for a humble bard anymore.

Only five hours, thirty minutes, and twelve seconds after Geralt’s outburst at the top of the mountain, Jaskier’s delicate human body succumbs to the stress of the day.

He drops to the forest floor without a sound, grateful for the darkness.

---

Yennefer finds the bard in a heap a few miles away from the previous night’s elevated campsite. When she presses the back of her hand to his forehead she yanks it away almost immediately; he’s burning up, and his skin is clammy and sticky with sweat. The feathery bangs he flicks about and preens so much are stuck to his forehead and temples. He’s on the verge of shaking apart and Yennefer tosses her head imperiously, swearing.

“Damnit, Geralt. You and your incredibly foolish need to be alone all the time so you can brood and self-flagellate. Me, an ageless sorceress from one of the greatest magic schools on the Continent? I can handle a thorough tongue lashing. Fuck, I’m older than you and I’ve seen far worse but this… oh, you great lummox. You absolute bastard…” Yennefer mutters to herself as she assesses the bard’s deteriorating state of health, ranting to an invisible Geralt all the while. “You’re absolutely going to be hearing from me about this, Wolf.”

--- Three days, one hour, and fifteen minutes after Geralt dismissed him forever, Jaskier wakes up with a loud gasp and a violent shudder. He blinks slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the bright light streaming in through a window. Whatever he’s lying on is comfortable and the sheets smell fresh and bright, like lilac and freesia. A hint of gooseberry lies beneath it all, delicate and sweet. He glances around the space and finds it to be relatively bare; a guest room, perhaps. Maybe he’s a servant at some noble house?

Jaskier only really knows that his name is Jaskier and that he plays music. He’s also rather talented with floral arrangements.

Shortly after he’s finished purveying his (borrowed?) chamber, the very image of grace, beauty, and terror enters the room. The woman, whose coppery skin and enchanting violet eyes practically glow in the midafternoon sun, smiles down at him in a way that toes the line between Motherly and Shark-like.

“How are you feeling, Jaskier?”

“I’m alright. And you?”

“Just fine. Geralt really did a number on us, huh?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. He has the feeling that something isn’t right; she shouldn’t be looking at him so kindly.

Her expression changes from friendly to horrified to confused in an instant, as soon as Jaskier manages to ask: “Who’s Geralt? And, pardon me, but I feel as if something is rather amiss. Who are you, my Lady?”

Whoever the gorgeous and terrifying woman is, she grimaces briefly. Then, as if by magic, the comforting smile returns. “I’m Yennefer, of course. I saved your life a few years ago, remember?”

Jaskier wracks his brain but cannot call the occasion to mind. “Unfortunately no, I don’t remember your no doubt heroic deed. Although I suppose that means I’m in your debt, doesn’t it? Do I work for you? Is that why I’m here?”

The woman blinks a few times, slowly, and then nods. “You’re my gardener and personal musician.”

Jaskier brightens, happy to have found himself in a safe environment.

“But you’ve had a nasty illness and your mind is clearly fatigued. Rest another day or two and then we can see about getting you back into the fresh air.”

“Thank you, my Lady,” Jaskier nods.

“Yen is fine.”

“Thank you, Yen. I don’t know where I’d be without you,” he grins.

---

Yennefer turns away to hide her pained expression. You’d probably still be with your beloved Witcher.

She makes her way to the kitchen to fix Jaskier something to eat. He must be hungry after spending three days in a deep, healing sleep. She hadn’t been expecting the amnesia, though; it was an unexpected but not unsurprising turn of events. Heartbreak had done stranger things than a little bit of fever-induced memory loss. When she’d delved briefly into his mind she hadn’t seen any sign of Geralt. His face was absent from the bard’s consciousness; she would have needed to dig to unearth those memories. Whatever the Witcher had done was grievous, especially if Jaskier’s mind compensated with something as dramatic as burying Geralt completely to save itself from further harm.

No matter, she decides, the bard can stay here as long as he likes. It’s the least I can do for all the upset Geralt and I have caused him. Where is that idiot Witcher, anyway?

The sorceress quickly clears her agenda and her mind before returning to her guest room with a large tray of food, a bottle of Toussainti red under her arm. “Jaskier, darling, let’s get your convalescence started in style!”

---

2 months later

---

Jaskier watches a strange man ride up the long path to Yennefer’s manor, the hilts of his twin swords glinting in the sun where they’re slung over his shoulder. He has long white hair and the most devastating jawline the bard/gardener (or ‘bardener’ as he says to irritate his darling employer) has ever laid eyes on. He’s clad all in black, from his plain linen shirt to his tight leather trousers; Jaskier thinks he’d also look rather lovely in dark blue or perhaps forest green.

In front of him, wrapped securely against his chest by one strong arm, sits a little girl with ashen hair and frightened eyes. Haunted eyes. Jaskier’s mind fills with ballads, some familiar and some oddly dreamlike, their lyrics half-obscured and hazy. Ciri, he thinks for no reason. Her name is Ciri. And she is a Princess.

The brunette scurries from the garden alongside the house to the kitchen, searching for the familiar cloud of Yennefer’s strong perfume. “My Lady?”

“Darling?” the sorceress replies, coming around the corner. She raises her perfectly maintained eyebrows and her lips quirk up into a smirk. “Did you sprint all the way from the west lawn?”

“There’s a- strange man- on the- drive!” he huffs. “White hair- horse!”

“Oh,” her eyes go wide with surprise. Then, in a split second, they narrow to slits. “Oh.”

“Do you, uhm, know him?” Jaskier asks, twiddling his fingers. “He’s rather handsome, Yen. Is he a former lover?”

“Unfortunately,” she growls. “I can’t believe it’s taken him two fucking months to get here. He’d better have a damned good excuse.”

By now Jaskier can breathe normally again and he straightens up, shaking his long, shaggy hair from his eyes. “He had a child with him. She looked scared, Yen.”

“Cirilla!”

Yennefer dashes for the front door and Jaskier follows instinctually. They’re always together and he can’t bear to let her confront this man alone. He’s spent every waking moment with Yen since he awoke that first day and she has grown to be his dearest friend; he’ll protect her even unto death. “Yenna, what’s wrong? Who is he!?”

“Geralt of Rivia,” she snarls. The name seems familiar; maybe from a ballad or story? Perhaps Yen has mentioned him before?

“What about Geralt of Rivia?” a low, rumbling bass asks from the front hallway. Jaskier and Yennefer arrive in the doorway together and the man, Geralt apparently, takes a shaky step back. He recoils a bit, as if he’s been slapped, and Yennefer’s smile grows cruel. His voice, still incredibly low but now with a slight tremor to it, stutters out; “Wha- Yen, what is he- Jaskier? I only came to ask for help with Ciri, I didn’t know- I didn’t-”

Geralt’s stammered speech tapers off into silence and Yennefer’s brow furrows a second time. When the sorceress sets eyes on the child, who cannot be more than twelve years old, her expression softens again. Jaskier watches the most imposing woman in the world kneel, taking one small, pale hand in both of her own. “My name is Yennever of Vengerberg, former Sorceress of Aretuza. I am honored to meet you, Princess Cirilla. Geralt has come seeking protection, no doubt, and it is easily granted. I will do everything I can to help you.”

“Thank you, Lady Yennefer. And, uhm… Ciri’s fine,” the girl replies. Her voice is high and reedy, shot through with anxiety. She’s so young, Jaskier frowns. And yet she seems to have weathered an incredible storm.

“Ciri,” the bard bows from the doorway, low and dramatic. He sweeps his arm out to the side and bends his knees as awkwardly as possible, “I am Jaskier, private troubadour and gardener extraordinaire, under the employ of the magnanimous and dangerous Lady Yennefer, here. It is my greatest honor to make your very mighty and very royal acquaintance.”

“You’re silly, Master Jaskier,” the child giggles, hiding her mouth behind her hands. Geralt’s eyes grow wide and dart between Jaskier and the girl. Yennefer makes meaningful eye contact before nodding toward the door. Jaskier looks down at Ciri again when she asks: “Do you grow lots of flowers in Lady Yennefer’s garden, or just herbs and things for magic?”

“I grow lots of things all over the property,” the brunette man steps forward and offers Ciri his hand, gesturing towards the front door with the other. “Would you like to come and take a look? I know all the scientific names, you can even quiz me if you like.”

“I know some,” she smiles shyly, accepting the offered hand. “May I go take a look at the gardens, Geralt?”

“Go ahead,” the Witcher nods dumbly. “Jaskier will take good care of you.”

“That I will. Now, let’s take a look at the flowers and let these silly adults have a chat,” Jaskier grins. He winks at Yennefer and disappears out the door, exiled Princess in tow.

The two lively companions have toured through all the medicinal herbs and are halfway through Yennefer’s large collection of rose variations when the two other members of the party approach. Geralt looks sheepish, his eyes downcast. Yennefer looks triumphant; she is radiant in her victory as always.

Geralt steps forward, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Jaskier, I’ve come to apologize for what happened when we parted.”

“Excuse me?” the bard chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "I don’t know what you’re apologizing for, exactly.”

“When I yelled at you after the dragon hunt. It was only two months ago, Jaskier, surely you remember?”

Jaskier blushes, glancing anxiously between Geralt and his friend, whose violet eyes are stormy with emotion, “I'm truly sorry, but I don't think we've ever met."

Geralt gasps sharply and takes a step back, as he did in the entryway. Jaskier winces, seemingly on instinct, and shies away from the larger man. “You don’t remember me?”

“No…” Jaskier sighs. “I really don't. Should I?”

“You don’t… You don’t even remember Toss a Coin?”

“Oh, that ditty from town?” Jaskier perks up. “I know that song! It always gets stuck in my head.”

“You… You wrote that song,” Geralt’s face crumples. “About our first adventure together outside of Posada. With the elves and the sylvan...”

“I’ve never been to Posada,” Jaskier laughs, waving his hand dismissively. “They hate bards. They prefer troupes of traveling play-actors. Posada is far too serious for my tastes.”

Geralt seems to be in agony. His chest rises and falls unevenly, as if he’s on the verge of tears but unable to shed them. Can Witchers cry?

How does he know that Geralt is a Witcher? Is it the two swords, the scars, or the strange eyes? How does he know that those are common Witcher traits?

His stomach lurches and he turns away from the group in case he needs to be sick. The ground spins and shivers in little ripples around him, unstable and impermanent beneath his feet. Yennefer is calling his name from somewhere far away and a pair of warm, strong arms are looped around his waist. Still, he can’t seem to breathe. Or focus.

There’s something missing.

He starts to hum, trying to remember the words of that damned song.

The rest of the world fades in and out around him, finally disappearing altogether.

---

He’s gorgeous.

Jaskier shoves another roll into his pocket. His eyes are focused on the man in the corner. He has long, snow-white hair and his shoulders are hunched forward protectively, as if he can hold the world out by sitting by himself. He’s glaring the table into submission, one fist clenched around his tankard.

I want to write him a thousand ballads. I want to know what his hair looks like when he wakes up in the morning, before he brushes it out again. I want to know if he snores. I want… he stops himself.

He makes his way across the room with eyes only for the stranger. “I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

The man looks away and Jaskier notices that his irises are gold. “I’m here to drink alone.”

Gods, his fucking voice… Velvet and gravel all at once. Melitele, does Jaskier want. “Good, yeah. Good. No one else hesitated to comment on the quality of my performance… except for you.”

The man, the Witcher, Jaskier realizes, rolls his eyes.

“Come on,” he wheedles, sitting down across from the gorgeous stranger. “You don’t want to keep a man with bread in his pants waiting. You must have some review for me, three words or less.”

The man’s face stays stoic, expressionless. “They don’t exist.”

He realizes shortly thereafter that this man is not just any Witcher but the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia. He could try to disengage himself from such a daunting character; he could easily make some kind of excuse and disappear back to the troubadour’s path, heading towards civilization, but it’s already too late. He doesn’t want to leave Geralt’s side ever again; he wants to write all those ballads he was thinking about earlier, when he glanced across the room.

Jaskier has fallen head over heels in love. ---

Geralt cradles Jaskier against his chest and presses his nose deep into those chestnut brown waves. “Wake up, Jaskier. Come back to me, bard, it’s been too long.”

“Don’t you usually go all winter without seeing him?” Yennefer asks from the doorway.

“It’s hell,” he replies easily. There’s no point in hiding his feelings from her. “I miss him every minute of every day.”

“Verbose this evening,” she remarks, taking a seat by the fire. “He’s dreaming, you know. He’s remembering you.”

“He’d forgotten?”

“He’d repressed it all,” she shrugs. “When I found him that day, feverish and nearly dead on the side of that godsforsaken mountain, he was barely coherent enough to open his eyes. He just kept asking for you, Geralt. Over and over he called for you, reaching his arms up, weak as they were. Gods, it was pitiful to watch.”

Geralt swallows.

“I thought you were going to come back sooner. I was surprised when his memories didn’t resurface after two or three weeks. Short-term memory loss after a fever isn’t uncommon but repressing twenty years worth of feelings and experiences-” she whistles lowly “-it was impressive and tragic, all at once.”

“He forgot me?”

“Entirely.”

Geralt glances down, shame-faced. He adjusts Jaskier in his arms, holding him close and pillowing the bard’s head against his shoulder. “I deserve it, Yen.”

“He’s remembering now, though. He’ll probably be a little less than pleased to see you when he wakes up, but he knows who you are.”

“When will he wake?”

“Can’t say,” she shrugs again. “After I brought him back from the mountain it took three days for him to wake up. The first day was magically induced but after that it was just him… exhausted and heartbroken to the point of self-induced amnesia.”

“Fuck, Yen,” Geralt groaned, pressing his forehead into the soft warmth of Jaskier’s cheek. “How can I make it up to him?”

“Stay.”

“Hmm?”

“When he wakes up and he’s angry and upset, stay. Don’t stomp off or blow up or freak out,” she instructs. “If he asks you to leave, go, but otherwise… prove yourself, Geralt of Rivia. You wanted to be a knight once, didn’t you? Now’s your chance to play Prince Charming. Get down on your lovely knees and beg and apologize.”

“Hmm. How’s Ciri?”

“Fed, bathed, and put to bed. I’ll take care of her for as long as it takes you two morons to make nice again. Good luck, Geralt, I’m sure he’ll forgive you too easily for my tastes.”

She stands from her seat and leaves just as efficiently as she entered, carefully closing the door behind her. Geralt lays Jaskier back on the bed and takes a seat beside him on the mattress, kneeling just within touching distance, should Jaskier reach out for reassurance in his sleep. Geralt closes his eyes and slips easily into meditation.

The Witcher is pulled from his trance a few hours later when Jaskier makes a startled sound and tries to sit up. Geralt opens his eyes and splays one warm, broad hand against Jaskier’s chest, forcing him back against the goose down pillows. “Stay still, Jaskier. You’re feverish and weak.”

“I’m still dreaming,” the bard grumbles, reaching to rub at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It’s adorable and Geralt grins widely, warmth spilling into his chest from some newly discovered fount of happiness. “You’re being too nice to me, Witcher.”

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier, for everything.”

“What’s everything, Geralt?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away when I was angry and confused instead of communicating with you. I’m sorry for hurting you with my brash words and foolish actions; you have always deserved so much better and I’m so afraid that I can never give that to you. I take the wrong step at every turn, it seems, and yet you stay by my side. I didn’t want to risk hurting you the way I’ve already hurt Yen and Ciri, by tying us together against your will.”

“Darling Geralt,” the bard sighs. The Witcher scoots slightly closer and Jaskier lays a gentle hand atop his thigh. “It has always been my greatest pleasure to travel the Path with you and write of our adventures. I appreciate your concern for my agency and wellbeing, dear heart, but I am quite happy spending my entire human life in your presence.”

“Hmm,” the Witcher frowns. “You’re going to die someday.”

“And? So are you. So shall Yennefer, maybe.”

“Not likely,” Geralt jokes. Jaskier grins and the sight of it is so heartwarming that the Witcher wishes he could break down into tears. At least then Jaskier could see just how deeply his feelings ran. “I’m sorry, Jaskier, for blaming you for things that I brought upon myself. I love you dearly, and I hope that someday you can choose to travel with me again.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hope that you’ll-”

“No, the other bit.”

“I love you?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh. Yes, I-” Geralt clears his throat and looks Jaskier in the eyes, gold and blue locked together, “I love you very much, Jaskier.”

“Fuck.”

“May I kiss you, Jaskier?”

“Yes,” the bard breathes.

And then Geralt is lifting him up into his lap, one hand cradling Jaskier’s skull so so fucking carefully. Geralt’s other arm supports his waist, holding him steady. Their lips come together softly, carefully, and Jaskier’s soul spirals up to the ceiling with joy, his body abandoned. He is merely a vessel for the happiness that comes with kissing his Witcher. When they pull apart, both men are grinning like fools. “Oh, dear heart.”

“Yes, my love?”

“Never stop calling me that.”

“I swear I won’t, my love.”

From downstairs, Geralt hears Yennefer mutter, “Fucking finally.”

It takes twenty-two years, seven months, and one day, but Geralt and Jaskier manage to figure things out.

#bounceacoinoffyouranons #geraskier #amnesia #amensiac jaskier #memory loss #rare species fix it #the witcher netflix #the witcher ficlet #geraskier fluff #angst with a happy ending #fluff and angst #whump with a happy ending #jaskier whump #yennefer #yen and jaskier are bitchy theatre bffs #and you can't stop me #anon you really got me fucked up

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Tangled Up in You

winter prompts day 2 ❄️ huddling for warmth

There are certain things Jaskier is starting to believe his brain willingly forgets (for his own good) as soon as the experience is over. These include, but are not limited to: drinking too much, rough sex the night before a long day of walking, and sleeping with the butcher's husband.

Wintering at Kaer Morhen is one of those things.

It's not that he's ungrateful, because he's been thrilled every year since the first that Geralt has approached him with the offer. And Jaskier is happy to join him, happy to make the trip even through snow and rain and whatever else late autumn has to offer.

And it's not that he doesn't like spending the winters with Geralt and his family, because he does. It's just that he's always given his own room - which is fine, everyone needs their own space, especially for months on end - but it's just so big. Or, rather, the bed is so big and empty with only him in it.

Over the warmer months, he grows used to sleeping in a bedroll next to the fire or, when they find paid lodgings, quite frequently sharing a too-small bed with Geralt. It had seemed like an inconvenience at first, but they've found a way to fit together that makes it easier for Jaskier to sleep with Geralt than alone. And here he has so much room. Too much room; he and Geralt could both fit comfortably without getting in each other's way. Even his bed back in Oxenfurt is smaller than this.

Jaskier shivers as cold air slips under the covers from gods know where. He'd thought he'd tucked in all the loose edges last time, but apparently, he missed a spot. He readjusts, tucking his feet back in and wiggling just a little to ensure he's blocked all the gaps. But it doesn't help.

After another half hour of sleeplessness, he climbs out of bed with his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders and slips out of his room and down the hall. He knows he'd be more than welcome to crawl into bed with anyone, but he hasn't had much time to spend alone with Geralt since they arrived, so he heads for his room.

Outside the door, he hesitates for a moment before knocking. It's pointless because Geralt probably heard him coming, but it just feels polite. There's no response, so he pushes the door open a little bit and he's about to call out to him when there's a grumble from across the room.

"Lambert if that's you, fuck off and go sleep with Eskel I don't want your stupid cold feet on me."

"Um," Jaskier says in a very small voice, "not Lambert. Still cold, though."

"Jaskier?" Geralt asks and Jaskier can hear the rustling of the blankets as he turns over. Jaskier bites his lip to keep his teeth from chattering and curls his toes. He doesn't want to be turned away due to cold feet. He doesn't say anything else, but after a moment there's another sleepy groan and a soft, c'mere. So he does.

He slips up to Geralt's bed, but when he lifts the blankets to climb in, he freezes. Geralt is entirely naked and Jaskier has to fight against the wave of heat that rolls up his neck. On second thought, freezing to death wouldn't be the worst way to go. Or maybe he'll go see Eskel - he had offered, after all. He's already backing away when Geralt climbs out of bed and comes after him.

The noise that comes out of his mouth when Geralt catches him is something like a seabird and he would be embarrassed about it if he didn't have more important things to worry about. Like being carried to bed by a very sleepy, very naked Geralt.

He knows better than to struggle against Geralt, but then he's being plopped onto the bed and Geralt crawls over him. He's barely settled before he wraps an arm around Jaskier's waist and tugs him down with him. Reluctantly, Jaskier adjusts to make himself comfortable, but it presses him right up against Geralt's bare chest. Which is, to be fair, quite lovely and very warm.

But Jaskier is suffering because he's lying in bed with a big, naked Witcher wrapped around him and while the premise may be the subject of many a daydream, he'd pictured it rather differently. The worst part is that the warmest part of him is where his shirt is rucked up and Geralt's bare skin presses against his own.

With as much subtlety as he can manage, Jaskier shifts, pushing the shirt up further. There's a grumble from the back of his neck and then one warm hand settles on his hip, sliding under the hem of his shirt and slipping around to his chest. Jaskier's heart stops as his mind speeds through every possible reason for Geralt to touch him like this and before he can settle on any of them, Geralt is lifting his shirt and tugging it up over his head. Jaskier instinctively goes with it, like a child being changed out of dirty clothes.

Stunned and confused and more than a little aroused, Jaskier turns to ask what the fuck is going on, but when he shifts, he finds Geralt with his eyes shut, the softest little smile gracing his lips.

"Rest," he breathes and when Jaskier tries to settle, he finds it much easier than expected, the warm weight of Geralt's arm around him comforting.

He's not sure what to do with his own arms, so he squirms for a few minutes, trying to find somewhere comfortable to put them. They've shared beds before more times than he can count (more often than not, even) but they've never slept face-to-face like this. And given the opportunity, Jaskier is not about to take it for granted.

Tentatively, he slides an arm around Geralt's side, slotting it just beneath Geralt's arm and finds it rather comfortable. And more than that, Geralt presses into the touch, apparently pleased with it. Jaskier has only just closed his eyes after finally finding a good way to lie when Geralt speaks again.

"How many years have you been coming here with me?" he asks and Jaskier quickly runs through the past winters, trying to remember.

"I don't even know. Many?"

"Why do you never sleep with me?" If his nose wasn't pressed into Geralt's chest, Jaskier's jaw would probably drop. What does that even mean?

"We share at the inns all the time," Jaskier mumbles, "I thought you might want your space."

"Mm," Geralt hums, "but I like to share with you."

Oh. Oh. "Okay." Geralt tugs him a little closer, and one of his knees comes forward to press between Jaskier's thighs. "In that case," Jaskier whispers, "maybe I should move all my stuff in here? You wouldn't want me freezing to death over the winter now, would you?"

"Couldn't have that," Geralt agrees and Jaskier can feel the warmth of his breath in his hair, followed by what he would swear is the softest of kisses. "Couldn't have that."

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #huddling for warmth #winter prompt challenge 2k20 #rex writes

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teresa-of-ficwill · 3 years

Text

Silly Hat (Geraskier Fic)

I've got too inspired by Season 2 trailer and Jaskier's new look so here we are.

‘Your hat looks silly,’ it was the first thing Jaskier heard from Geralt after- well, it has been a long time. A year or so since what happened on the mountain. Since Geralt broke his heart with all the cruelty the witcher was capable of.

Jaskier wanted to say that he healed. That he was capable of leaving his feelings and his dear witcher behind. He wanted to say it but he couldn't because it would be a terrible lie.

He didn't heal, not even a little. Now, looking into these yellow cat eyes, it felt even worse than it was before. Because Geralt was here for some reason. And for some reason, he didn't like his hat.

Jaskier took off his hat. ‘I think it looks cute,’ he answered.

The hat was not the only thing that changed. His hair became longer and his clothes- well, they just became different. He didn't feel like himself recently. Actually, never since the mountain.

‘It's silly,’ the witcher repeated, and Jaskier didn’t feel like arguing with him so he left his hat on the table.

‘Well, maybe,’ he said and then sat on the bench. ‘Do you want something else or telling me I look silly was your purpose?’

‘You don't look silly. Just the hat,’ Geralt sat on the bench too. ‘You look- different.’

The bard chuckled sadly, ‘Should I take this as a compliment or-’

‘I liked your performance,’ the witcher interrupted him, and Jaskier looked him straight in the eyes, a little bit confused. Surprised.

‘Em- thanks,’ the bard muttered. ‘No need to lie tho. I know you don't like my singing.’

‘It's not true.’

‘Well, you said it's like ordering a pie and finding out it has no filling, so-’ Jaskier remembered, trying not to remember how much these words hurt him back then.

‘I don't like pies with filling,’ said Geralt and the bard's eyes widened. ‘They are too- sugary.’

Okay- now Jaskier was confused more than ever. So it was- a fucking compliment?

‘I like your singing,’ the witcher added in case the bard still didn't get it.

Jaskier shook his head. ‘Anyway, why are you here?’ he asked because everything felt strange.

‘I came to- to invite you with me.’

‘Where?’

‘To Kaer Morhen.’

‘Why? After all you said it isn't even logical.’

Geralt sighed. That's it, that's the talk he was so afraid to have. ‘I was wrong. And I'm sorry.’

‘You said that my disappearing from your life would be a blessing!’ Jaskier exclaimed. ‘Don’t expect me to believe that you are sorry.’

‘I am. It was a huge mistake. I didn't mean all these words.’

Jaskier shook his head, staring at the table. ‘It's not fair,’ he muttered.

‘What?’

‘It's not fair!’ Jaskier shouted, suddenly jumping to his feet and making Geralt flinch a little. ‘After all these days when every word you said tortured me and my broken heart didn't let me sleep, you just come and say you are sorry?! What do you expect me to do? Believe you FUCKING AGAIN?!’

‘Jask-’ Geralt reached out but Jaskier immediately jerked back.

‘I can't, Geralt. I just can’t. I won’t survive another broken heart,’ he said before grabbing his lute and running away.

The witcher sighed, looking at the silly hat the bard left on the table. Some mistakes cannot be fixed and it was so painful to think that Jaskier’s broken heart was one of them.

***

Jaskier wasn't sure where exactly he was running but he was definitely running away. He wasn’t ready to believe Geralt again because he had already felt like a fool after believing that Geralt would someday love him back during all these years. He was a fool. Such a fool.

‘Are you alright?’ a girl with long blonde hair approached him.

‘I- I'm not sure,’ Jaskier answered, completely out of breath.

‘Do you need help?’ she asked. ‘My name is Cirilla, by the way, but you can call me Ciri.’

‘I'm fine, don't worry.’ he tried to assure her.

‘Why were you running then?’

‘Well, I-’ Jaskier struggled to find the answer. ‘It's complicated,’ he finally said. ‘And what are you doing here?’ the bard asked because he managed to run away from town and now was somewhere in the field. To meet a 12 years old girl there was strange.

‘I'm waiting for my dad,’ she answered. ‘He said he needed to go to town to talk to someone very important. I think he meant “apologize for what he has said and done” but he actually isn't good at those things,’ Ciri chuckled.

‘And he left you alone?’

‘I can take care of myself. And also he said he will return soon,’ the girl smiled. ‘Our camp is near, do you want some tea? You can tell me what made you so sad.’

‘I’m not sad.’

‘Yes, you are.’

In a few minutes, he was sitting in a small camp near the fire. A few trees were hiding it from the main road. A horse was grazing not far from the hastily organized camp. Ciri held out a cup of tea to Jaskier.

‘Where are you traveling with your dad?’ the bard asked when the girl sat near him.

‘I’m not sure. He said that he would take me home. I've never been there so it’s kinda exciting.’

‘Never been- home?’ Jaskier repeated, a little bit confused.

‘Well, he is not my real dad, I’m kinda adopted. But he likes it when I call him that. Never admits it but I know he likes it.’

‘Mhm,’ the bard muttered, processing the new information. ‘Do you have a mother?’

‘Do you mean the real one or if dad has a wife?’ Ciri asked, smiling.

‘In all this situation, I think the second,’ Jaskier said, taking a sip of tea. If this girl was adopted by a man who wasn’t her father, it seemed like she didn’t have any relatives or all her relatives were dead. The bard wasn't sure what was better.

‘No, he hasn’t. But he has someone he loves. Really loves, like with all his heart. Talks about him for hours. Actually, he went into town to find him. I have never met him before but dad assured me that I would like him. Dad said he sings beautiful songs. It seems like you sing too,’ she pointed at the lute which was laying near them.

‘I’m a bard. Songs earn me a living,’ Jaskier answered.

‘Bards are cool,’ Ciri smiled, making Jaskier smile too. ‘What’s your name again?’

‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Jaskier.’

The girl looked really surprised, ‘Jaskier?’

‘Yes. Why are you-’ he started but wasn’t able to finish the question because they suddenly heard approaching footsteps.

‘It must be my dad,’ Ciri said.

‘Well, maybe I should go then-’ Jaskier started but she interrupted him.

‘No, wait here. We’ll be back in a minute.’

***

If you wanna find out what happened next, follow the link to my ao3 😉.

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lilith-of-rivia · 3 years

Text

The Bard’s Sister Geralt XFeamle!Reader Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

Summary: Its finally your birthday. You not only get a lovely gift from mum and dad but also from your brother and his companion who has taken a very big likening to you.

Trigger Warnings: Drinking, some cursing

Pairing: Geralt XFemale!Reader Jaskier XSister!Reader

Word Count: 8,979 (I know its a long one XD I fit a lot into one part)

If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!! So sorry this took so long. it was a lot of writing and I knew I wanted to get the party done in one part. the next part will be the beginning of the travels!! Would you guys rather have SMUT in the next part or wait till the part after that? let me know!!! All my love!! -Lilith

Sleep eluded me. After eating the meat pie from the kitchen and a nice hot bath I thought sleep would’ve come much quicker. I was tired, physically and emotionally. I could feel it in my bones but every time I closed my eyes I remembered that my brother would be leaving again in a few days. I had three more days with him but it didn’t feel like enough. Not after all the time we lost. I wanted to ask him to stay with me, but I knew it would be selfish of me.

Jaskier’s departure also meant Geralt would be leaving too. It was probably for the best… the feeling I have for the witcher shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t exist, because I was not delusional. I knew the Witcher’s were re-programmed into believing they were not capable of love, that they were loveless monsters, not only incapable of giving love but incapable of receiving love. I didn’t believe any of those tales. I had studied the trails Witcher’s must go through to become what they are.

It is disturbing. They break young men’s wills. Make them believe the world will never offer them love, all to fuel their agenda. Witcher's never go through anything that makes them incapable of love. It’s very evident in my brother’s relationship with the witcher. Had Geralt not been capable of feeling “human” emotions, he would’ve left Jaskier to die when he was attacked by the Djinn. It was a perfect way for him to get rid of my brother, it wasn’t technically his fault or his doing. My brother could’ve died and he could’ve washed his hands clean of him.

The way he kissed my hand the first day we met, was like he was attempting to give his best first impression. He tried his best to show respect, maybe so my mother and father would like him more. He showed me kindness, tenderness. Any time he touched me was feather-soft. Maybe he was worried he’d hurt me or scare me away...

The way he kissed Hildi’s hand. The way he smiled at my brother’s stupid jokes. There was so much more to him than anyone realized.

I stood from my bed walking over to my desk. I sat down and lit the lantern with the candle from my bed. The fire in the corner of my room didn’t provide nearly enough light to reach me. I grabbed my journal and some charcoal. I moved over to the large windows and sat down. The glass was cold under my touch, the moon was nearly full. It lit up the garden below me. It was the most perfect view of the gardens my mother spent so much time tending. The light blue hue cascaded along the hedges. The flowers dimly lit. I scribbled down the date in my journal before I began sketching the view in front of me for what seemed like the 500th time. I always found something new. Tonight was a quick sketch, just of the basics. I was hoping it would make me sleep but nothing seemed to work.

My body was smothered in quilts, my arm draped lazily over my head as I tried my best to sleep. The thin nightgown I wore was perfect for warm summer nights. It kept me cool and didn't stick to my body when I sweat.

The night was still, everything in the walls of the castle was silent. I cul hear the crickets and the frogs below me, but nothing else.

Squeak squeak

My eyes snapped open, my heart beating rather quick at the sudden sound from the room behind my head. It took me a minute to remember that Geralt was sleeping next door. I had heard him go to bed hours ago and it had been completely silent since. But now I could hear him moving over and over in his bed.

“Geralt…” My voice was barely above a whisper. No one could hear me, no one but a witcher's ears. If he was awake I knew he could hear me.

“...if...if you’re awake, tap the wall twice.” I held my breath waiting for a moment. My cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

Tap Tap

I smiled at the small sound signaling to me he was awake.

“I can not sleep...care to take a walk?... Tap twice for yes.” I wondered if he could hear the smile through my voice.

Tap Tap

I smiled wider, getting up from my bed. I grabbed a candle from my nightstand after throwing on my silk robe. It wasn’t the warmest fabric in the world but the summer air wasn’t too cold.

I quietly tiptoed to the door, opening it slowly to not let it creak. There on the other side was Geralt. His hair was no longer pulled back in a tie out of his face, no it was messily about his head, some small knots in the thicker areas. Small strands stuck up everywhere. His eyes were hooded a little in sleep. He had a small smile on his lips, his hands tucked into his underarms as he waited for me. He reached out, taking the candle from me before offering me his free arm.

“Princess…” he greeted with a small cheesy bow of his head. I giggled, softly shaking my head. My hand gripped around his bicep, squeezing it softly. It was as hard as a rock, my hand barely made it halfway around it.

“Hello, Geralt,” I whispered and he smiled. We began walking down the corridor, the hall dimly lit by the moonlight and the few candles lit.

“No sleep?” He asked.

“No...my mind won't stop wondering…” we walked down the stairs, slowly as to not let the guards know anyone was awake.

“Care to tell me why, dove?” He whispered. His arm moved slightly, making me let go almost immediately. Before my hand reached my side his fingers laced in between my own, squeezing it. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, the small act making my heart melt.

“Walk through the garden with me?” I whispered leaning in a little closer to him. He made me feel safe. Not that I didn't feel safe in my home, I knew how safe I was compared to many others but he just made me feel a type of safe I'd never felt.

“Of course, lead the way.” we continued down the hall, walking towards the gardens.

As we veered a corner Geralt's arm quickly wrapped around my waist as he silently, and quickly tucked us behind a suit of armor in the corner. His arm squeezed around my waist. I could feel his breath in my ear. It sent shivers down my spine making me twitch slightly. He chuckled lowly, his thumb stroking my stomach.

“Do I scare you?” his whisper was low, very close to my ear.

“Never,” I said with no hesitation. My head turned towards him, his eyes shining in the dark. He gently put his finger to my lips.

“Shhh.” I nodded my head, our eye contact not breaking. His fingers softly traced my jawline, moving till he was cupping my cheek. He broke eye contact for a second as his eyes flicked to the hall we just exited. Not a second after he looked me in the eyes again I could hear footsteps. They were walking down the hall towards us. Geralt took a breath in. After a minute the person was gone. Geralt’s hand was still on my cheek and the other hand wrapped around my waist.

“You are so beautiful.” My throat went dry. My hands started to get clammy.

Everything in my body urged me to just grab his face and kiss him, but that small voice kept me back. My fear overtaking the decision. I gently grabbed his hand that was on my face, leaning into him. I kissed his wrist softly. His skin was so warm, warmer than the average man for sure. I wanted to hold him. Feel his skin on mine.

“So are you,” I whispered. His eyes practically rolled out of his head as he smirked like I just made some lude joke. He grabbed my hand and led me to the hallway and out the door to the garden. The moon was bright.

Geralt started to walk in front of me, pulling me deeper into the garden. Soon we were surrounded by my mother’s Roses and lavender bushes. The smell was intoxicating. It was the center of the garden. Geralt grabbed my waist again. Pulling me closer to him. I was shivering slightly. The air was cold from the late-night rain we had. Colder than I thought it would be. My hands Gently went to his chest, softly pulling and toying with the strings on his tunic.

“You are beautiful Geralt. I wouldn't joke about that.” My voice was no longer a whisper, it was still low but he could hear me better.

“I have been called many things in my day dove, but never beautiful.” His arms were tighter around me, his shoulders were tense. He was more alert outside than he was inside, I understood. His training not wanting him to think anywhere is safe.

“If you want, I’ll make sure to call you that more often.” He chuckled softly at my words. I couldn't help but feel angry, not at him but at the world. The way they treated him, his kind for things they all don’t deserve. My hands went to each side of his face, as I gently made him look at me.

“Geralt you are so much more than this world will ever give you credit for...I can never say I understand what it feels like to live in your skin, but I can tell you that you do not deserve that cruelty that is thrown your way. I know not all witchers are like you, I know many of them live up to the expectations my kind has put on you. But you do not. You are far from a monster Geralt of Rivia. You-'' one hand rested on his chest above his slow beating heart “-you have a heart of gold. And I’m so sorry you've never been treated with the love and care you deserve and need.” his hand was now covering my own over his heart. His other arm is still tight around my waist. My face and his had drafted closer as I spoke, he leaned forward, pressing our foreheads together.

“Fuck…. (Y/N)...I’m not good with words. But - I, uh thank you…” his voice was so deep it made it hard to focus. His cheeks were light pink. His eyes flashing from my lips to my eyes. I couldn't help but giggle at how frazzled he got over words he deserved to be told. My heart yearned for his touch. Everything he touched was like a small fire deep inside me. I had courted many men in my life. Many I thought would be my endgame, but none ever made me feel the way he did. His lip inched closer to my own, slowly before they were centimeters apart. He wouldn't kiss me without permission.

“You may kiss me Ger-” his lips were on mine before I could finish my sentence.

My arms wrapped around his neck, his own wrapping tighter around me nearly lifting me off my feet.

Our lips moved together slowly, softly. I could feel every inch of his body pressed to my own. All my thoughts were him only. His intoxicating scent was filling my nose as I breathed slowly. He smelt of sandalwood, maybe a little bit of mint. Nothing I'd ever smelled before. The way his hands held my back, softly running up and down the silk of my robe. Everything he touched felt like a new fire was spreading. His lips were sweet, of honey. They were surprisingly soft. They made me feel like molten hot lava. My hand gently combed through his hair. His teeth softly nipped my bottom lip before his tongue infiltrated my mouth. Our tongues danced together, our hands wondering, touching, feeling every inch. The world around me didn't feel real. My body was in the garden but my head was in the clouds.

He pulled away from me, barely. The loss of contact made me whine softly. I felt colder without his lips on mine. His hot breath fanned my face as he breathed in and out. I opened my eyes, looking into his. His hands left my back moving to my face, his forehead back on mine.

“You are intoxicating, princess.” His words were velvet. They made my insides turn in the most delicious way. My body yearned for him. His fingers delicately traced the frame of my face.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” I leaned into his hand. The warmth of his palm being a decent replacement for his lips.

“Jaskier will leave soon...Three days from now.” his hand left my cheek, wrapping around my body, gently turning me so my back was to his chest. His arms circled my waist as he held me into him. His chin rested on my shoulder as he listened.

“When Jaskier leaves, you'll leave too...and I'll be alone again.” The thought of them leaving made my stomach ache. I had been alone most of my life. Yes I had my parents and they were great, but they were not my brother.

“All of my friends I grew up with are mothers now. They have lives of their own. My mother and father cannot be my friends, they are my parents. It's nothing the same. I never realized how much I missed Jaskier till he came back.” My throat tightened as I spoke, the feeling of my tears burning my eyes becoming more overwhelming. My hands went to his around my waist as I held them closer to me if it was possible.

“I don't want to be alone again…” The tears slipped freely down my face, my head dropping.

“I sometimes wish he never left. I know that is selfish of me, but I miss him so much. Sometimes it takes months for me to get the letters he sends me. I never know if he is alive or not.” My crying became a little more intense as I spoke. My voice wavering. I Let go of his hands, covering my face with my hands as I rubbed away the tears vigorously. I hated crying in front of people, it showed weakness, made me vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to put you in this awkward situation,” I whispered. One of his arms left my waist, only to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me tighter into his chest.

“Do not apologize princess…” His lips met my temple in a soft kiss. His lips lingered there for a minute.

“Who have you been training with?” He asked. I couldn't tell if he was trying to change the subject because he wanted me to stop crying or if he didn't know how to deal with me crying.

“You may know him, I'm not sure. He never spoke of anyone from his past. He’s a retired witcher. He stumbled into our kingdom when I was 15. My mother and father were scared of a looming war between my country and Lyria. One of my uncles had knocked up the king's younger daughter. A large threat was over my head for a couple of years. So they asked him when he came into our country if he would train me. So I could take care of myself if I was to leave under a new identity. For the last ten years he came for a couple of months, we started with book training rather dull if I do say-” I chuckled at the memory of how many times I fell asleep reading the dull books he would bring with him. “We gradually moved into combat training. I know he didn't train me nearly as hard as he had trained the witchers in his court. But there were days I felt like my limbs would fall off, but last year he told my parents that he was confident that I would not only be able to live on my own in the world, but he was confident I would thrive. His name is Vesemir. He’s due to show up for our training any day now.” Geralt’s eyes were looking at me when I turned to see him. He was smirking softly.

“What?”

“Vesemir was my instructor at Kaer Morhen. I’m the witcher I am today because of his training.” My eyes must have bulged out of my head. He laughed at me making my cheeks flush red.

“You are telling me, I’ve been trained by the same man who trained you? And he never bothered to tell me? What a jerk.” I turned my body around in Geralt’s arms, my head now laying on his chest, my arms around his waist resting on his back. He was much, much, taller than me.

“Vesemir has always respected my privacy, don't harp on the old man too much.” His heartbeat was distracting me. It was much slower than mine. It was like a lullaby. My hand covered my mouth as I yawned, his head tilting down as he looked at me.

“Common, you have to sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow.” He was talking about my party. His hands gently pulled me back from him, his fingers laced with mine as he led me back through the garden into the castle and down to my room.

We stood outside the door, his hands mindlessly fidgeting with my robe.

“Stay with me tonight?” My hands pressed softly to his chest.

“I don't know princess...I don't want your parents to get the wrong idea of me.” I nodded my head, understanding and respecting his wishes.

“Will you be my date to my party tomorrow?” I asked timidly, my eyes focused on his silver pendant.

“I would be honored, Princess (Y/N).” His fingers hooked under my chin tilting my head up so my eyes met his own.

“Jaskier has your clothes, the party starts at noon.” He nodded his head.

“I'll be here waiting for you, little dove.” his lips pressed to mine. It was the softest sweetest kiss I had ever shared. It wasn't long, only a few seconds. His hand reached behind me as he opened my bedroom door for me. I leaned up, kissing his cheek softly.

“Good night Geralt.” I backed up till I was through the threshold of the door, my eyes not leaving him. My hand went to the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N).” I smiled and closed the door softly. My forehead gently leaning on it. My heart raced faster than it ever had. I wanted him back with me and he hadn't even been behind the door for a minute.

I moved to my bed, hanging my robe on the wooden bedpost before climbing under the warm comforters. They were not nearly as warm as he was but they would do.

Tap Tap

A smile stretched across my face. My knuckles softly tapping against the wall in goodnight. As I drifted into sleep finally, Geralt was only on my mind.

“Princess (Y/N)...” The sound of someone's voice broke my sleep. My eyes fluttered open, the sun burning them as it shone brightly through my window.

“Princess…” There was a small knock on the door. I couldn't tell who was at the door. I sat up in bed, the quilt bunched at my hips. I rubbed my eyes messily, moving my hair from my face.

“Yes yes, please come in,” I called my voice hoarse from the lack of water throughout the night. The door opened and Fesca and Neshe entered. They were women who worked in our court. My father and mother never believed in having unpaid servants.

No one in my family did. Before my great-great-grandfather founded and rebuilt our kingdom my family lived in incredible poverty. Many of my late family died of famines and illnesses due to not having money or food. When my father took the throne he made sure to keep the rule alive. We had many workers in the castle. But they were all paid and had housing courtesy of my father and mother.

Behind the two women, their daughters followed. They were much younger than me, barely 18.

“How did you sleep, my dear?” Neshe asked a sweet smile on her lips as she moved to the curtains, drawing them closed. My feet met the hard cold floor as I stood and stretched my muscles.

“Very well thank you,” I said with a smile. The four women walked around my room, Neshe was getting my dress ready, while Fesca and her daughter were preparing items for a bath.

“Here you go, miss.” Ari, Fesca’s daughter said with a smile as she put down a tray of food at my vanity.

“What time is it?” I asked as I moved to the vanity, examining the plate full of fruits and a muffin.

“Nearly ten, miss,” Ari said as she made my bed.

“You don't have to do that,” I said looking back at her, smiling.

“I know.” She said back with a smile.

“Your mother instructed us to tell you that you are not allowed to leave your room until the party this afternoon,” Neshe said as she started to boil water over the fire for the bath.

“Knock knock!” My head turned to the door, it was Jaskier’s voice.

“Come in,” I called and the door burst open. Jaskier was standing in the doorway with a huge grin across his face. He was carrying a large bundle of flowers. All types from roses to tulips.

He walked over to me, setting the flowers on my bed before hugging me tightly. My arms wrapped around his waist, my head resting on his lower chest.

“Happy birthday baby sister,” he whispered into my ear. I smiled and squeezed him tighter.

“Thank you, Jaskier. Thank you for being here.” He stepped back from me, looking back to the door.

“Geralt common!” He called, my cheeks heated a little as he entered. He was wearing what he was last night. Part of me felt like it was all a dream, everything from his hand on mine to his kiss. Our eyes met and he smiled at me, winking softly. He too was carrying a large bundle of flowers.

“Oh gods Jaskier you didn’t have to get so many,” I said with a laugh as Geralt placed them on my bed next to the ones from Jaskier.

“Oh but I do, little sister. There are enough flowers in each bouquet for every birthday I’ve missed.” I smiled up at him, my heart swelling.

“Thank you, Jax”

“Eat.” Neshe nudged me as she began pulling hairpins and brooches out of my vanity. I grabbed the muffin and took a bite, Jaskier pulling my desk chair over so he was sitting in front of me. Geralt sitting on my bed. Neshe started detangling my bed head, separating and pinning sections back as she started on the intricate style she had thought of for the day.

“You washed your hair recently, correct?” She asked as she handed me a glass of orange juice.

“Yes ma’am,” I said with a smile before drinking the juice and setting the empty glass down.

“You are such a compliant princess.” Jaskier snickered.

“Much more than you were as a young child Jaskier. You gave me hell every single day.” Neshe said behind me.

“I respect them, Jaskier. They look out for me.” I said with a roll of my eyes finishing the muffin and grabbing the bowl of fruit and the fork. Jaskier reached overtaking a strawberry and plopping it into his mouth.

“Rude,” I mumbled under my breath as I ate the fruit. Neshe continued working on my hair as I finished eating, the other three women walking around my room, tightening up and getting the bathroom ready, the tub is filled with boiling water. Many different oils and flowers added, the room soon smelling fresh and fragrant.

“Knock knock.” My eyes flew to the door that had opened slightly.

There stood a man, not as tall as Geralt but very close. His hair was a white silver, but much shorter, straight too. It was pinned further back. His face was much older than Geralt’s, not only with wrinkles but scars. His build was large, he was a very intimidating man. But what Witcher isn’t.

“Vesemir!” I quickly moved from Nashe’s hands, walking over to where he was standing a bright grin on his face. He quickly engulfed me in a hug.

“How are you kid?” He asked, pulling back from me, eyes searching my face.

“I’m wonderful, I’m so happy you're back,” I said smiling brightly. I looked at him but his eyes were over on the other witcher in the room, who was now standing.

“Well well, look what the cat dragged in,” Vesemir said with a deep laugh. He gently let go of my shoulders walking over to Geralt who was smiling back.

“Could say the same for you old man.” They shook hands, before hugging each other very quickly. My brother stood up and looked from me to Vesemir.

“Jaskier! So good to see you again.” Vesemir said.

“How do you know my baby sister?” Jaskier said, looking confused.

“He’s the one I’ve been training with, Jaskier. Father and mother love him.” Jaskier let out a frustrated breath pacing slightly.

“So you mean to tell me you've been seeing my baby sister for years and never once thought it was important information to share with me??” Jaskier’s voice was getting louder and shrill.

I walked over to him gently putting my hand on his arm.

“Jaskier he was doing it to protect me and you. He wasn't allowed to tell anyone outside of these walls what we did when he came here. Father and mother made those rules. Don’t be mad at him for following the rules. Just as he did with you and Geralt. I had no idea-” Nashe’s hands were on my shoulders leading me back over so I was seated, her fingers working gracefully in my hair. “I had no idea he had trained Geralt until last night. He never told me because he respected Geralt and his privacy.” Jaskier sighed, nodding his head. His calm demeanor only lasted a minute before he looked at me and his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Wait, last night? When last night? When were you alone with him??” Jaskier turned his attention to Geralt, his hands on his hips like a tutting mother. I bit my lip gently looking away from him. Fesca came over clapping her hands together with a smile on her face.

“Okay gentleman, I'm going to ask you all to leave. We need to get her ready for the party. You can continue this reunion later.” Jaskier huffed frustrated before walking out of the room, leaving Geralt and Vesemir. They both looked at each other then at me, Vesemir smirking at me.

“Here you go, the first part of ya gift.” He handed me a book.

‘A Mage’s Guide to Healing’

“What is this? I'm no mage.” Vesemir smirked.

“You do not know everything Miss (Y/N). You may find it useful. ” With that, he turned and walked out of the room.

Geralt turned to me and smiled. He knelt in front of me so his eyes were level with mine, his hands grabbing mine. He gently kissed my knuckles. My stomach erupted in butterflies.

“You might need to talk to Jaskier before I do,” I said. He chuckled softly, our eyes meeting.

“What shall I tell him?” His thumbs stroked the back of my hands.

I shook my head forgetting Fesca was still working on my hair causing her to grunt in frustration, her hands holding the sides of my head so I sat still.

“My dear, if you want me to finish this so you can enjoy the company of the Wolf this evening, you need to sit still.” I smiled bashfully, glancing down at my hands with my eyes.

“Sorry, Fes…” I mumbled.

“I'm not sure what to tell him. Maybe you should decide.” Geralt nodded in agreement. He stood up slightly, leaning over and kissing my forehead softly. I could hear the women behind me ooing quietly.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours, dove.” I smiled up at him, squeezing his hands gently.

“Okay, Geralt. Maybe tell him outside.” He laughed softly walking to the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Okay, dove.”

Once the door was shut Neshe appeared in front of me, she had a smirk on her face.

“You and the witcher my dear?” She sat in the chair Jaskier was in. Ari and Yennaa were behind me helping Fesca with my hair.

“There isn't anything other than what you saw. He cares for me, but we all know he can't care for me in the way I wish he could.” I said looking over the book in my lap.

“I don't know (Y/N)… the way he looked at you is how my pa looks at mum,” Yennaa commented. Her mother and father had been together longer than my mum and dad. The connection between how Geralt looked at me to how her father looked at her mum made my heart sore.

“I...I hope so...He makes me feel things no other man has.”

Fresca gently squeezed my shoulders, sliding a silk bonnet over my hair, tying it behind my head.

“Alright dear get in the bath, wash yourself up and we'll be back to help with your dress and makeup.” I nodded and thanked them as they left the room. I undressed quickly, before sinking into the hot bubbly water.

____________________________________________________________________________

“You look beautiful my dear. You wait here to get your mother and father.” I smiled brightly at Neshe and the other women.

“Thank you. And thank you so much for your help. "They smiled and left me alone in front of the mirror

The dress was so beautiful.

Hildi had completely outdone herself this year. The dress was dazzling baby pink, with hundreds of stars stitched into a beautiful mesh fabric. It had sleeves but they did not come up my arms. Instead, the sleeves came right above my elbows. My décolleté and shoulders bare, showing off my breasts a bit more than I normally did but I had never felt more beautiful. Fesca had outdone herself on my hair, every pin was perfectly placed, every curl held beautifully. My crown was dazzling in the noon sun, sending rainbows around my room as it sat gracefully on my head. My attention was turned to the small knock on the door. In stepped my mum and dad. My mum's hand went over her mouth with a small gasp.

“Oh my goodness. My baby girl is a grown woman. You look absolutely beautiful my love.” She came to me, hugging me into her tightly. My arms wrapped around her shoulders tightly. Her fingers stroked my back softly. I inhaled her scent, snuggling my face into her maroon dress. Her hugs were like none I'd ever had. They were everything I needed some nights...

“I love you, mum…” She pulled me back from her and looked me in the eye, her fingers stroking my face.

“I love you more than you will ever know. Now, your father has a gift for you.” My eyes went to him. He was dressed in a solid green velvet suit, a white button-down under his fest. He looked dashing. I smiled at him as he walked over to us, a small box in his hand.

“This is something I had made for you when you were born. We both wanted to wait till you were older to give it to you. I think now is a perfect time.” He handed me the box with a smile. I gently took the box and opened it.

“Dad….” It took my breath away. A beautiful ring was in the center of the box, gleaming in the sun.

There was an opal stone in the center, two little gold moons on each side of the opal, that symbolize a full moon. There were six diamonds embedded into the ring. Three on the top, three on the bottom. Everything had been placed on a gold band. I looked at my father, his eyes were welling with tears.

“You've always been my little girl, and no matter where you go or where I go, I never want you to forget how much I love you.” My arms wrapped tightly around him as I practically threw myself on him, tears slipping down my face. I felt my mother’s hand on my back as she hugged us.

“Jaskier you can come in now.” My mother called out. I could hear the door open, then soon my brother's arms were wrapped around my mother and me. All four of us were back together again.

“Happy birthday Little Pea.” My dad whispered with a small chuckle. Jaskier laughed in my ear, making me laugh softly. The nickname my brother called me for many years had been forgotten after he left. No one else is using it.

“I love you all.” My dad pulled me from his chest, whipping my face before grabbing the ring and putting it on my right ring finger.

“Okay we’ll leave you with your brother to go great with your guests. Don't be too long.” My mother said, booping my nose. I laughed softly nodding.

The two of them left the room, leaving just Jaskier and me. He turned to me, looking me up and down before bringing me into another bone-crushing hug.

“I'm so happy you're home Jax…” I whispered into his black velvet tunic. He too looked quite dashing. His shirt was tucked into some dark blue trousers a black leather belt holding them up, and some very nicely polished black boots up his legs. His hair was curly and his smile was bright.

“I missed you so much, Little Pea.” He pulled back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“So Geralt spoke to me earlier today.” I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks and ears.

“About…?”

“He told me about the kiss last night, told me he didn't want to hurt you. I told him he had to talk to mum and dad, not me.” I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Jaskier, it's not that serious. Why would you tell him that it's not-”

“He already did it love. They gave their blessing.”

“I...they did? For what?”

“To court you of course!” He said with a laugh.

“But you'll both leave soon-”

“Don't overthink it, common he's waiting outside.” He walked to the door opening it. Sure enough, there was Geralt. He was breathtakingly beautiful. He was dressed head to toe in black velvet, his hair clean and combed, pinned back, his face freshly shaved, a small rose pinned into his shirt. The first three buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing his deliciously hairy chest and his silver pendant.

Breath.

I took a deep breath, my eyes looking him up and down taking him in. It wasn't until we met eyes I realized he was doing the same to me.

“You look beautiful.” He breathed out, walking towards me. I reached my hands out to him, he gently took them pulling me into him, his left arm looping around my waist. Our faces inches apart.

“You look so handsome Geralt. You clean up quite well. Black velvet is your style.” I said with a smile, my hand on his shoulder, the other still in his hand. He leaned down and softly kissed me. It was short and sweet. Yet it filled my body with warmth and butterflies. I was sure he felt the temperature of my skin change.

“Common people are waiting for you, princess.” He whispered as he pulled away, my hand wrapping around his bicep. I looked at him as we walk down the hall towards the grand hall.

“You are a breathtaking creature (Y/N). I do not think I have seen anyone so beautiful in my 87 years.” My heart raced in my chest as he spoke, my hand gripping his arm a little tighter.

“No one told me I was falling for an old man.” I joked as we approached the door to the great hall. One of my father’s soldiers was waiting for us.

“Princess.” He said with a soft bow of his head. I smiled softly at him, curtsying to him softly.

“Derlor, it’s good to see you again.” I let go of Geralt’s arm, stepping towards Derlor hugging him gently. He was my father’s right-hand man, everything my father needed he went to Derlor. He had been working in my father’s court for nearly 30 years.

“This will be the first birthday that I don’t get to escort you. I’m not sure what to do with myself.” I smiled and shook my head.

“Relax, enjoy yourself. Maybe ask Hildi for a dance. You know she has a soft spot for you.” I said stepping back to Geralt’s side, my hand on his arm again. Derlor looked at the witcher next to me, eyed him up and down before stepping in front of him.

“I know her parents like you, and I trust their judgment but understand one thing Witcher; if you hurt her in any way I will kill you. You may be a feared monster slayer but you do not scare me.” I rolled my eyes softly, everyone was going to threaten the witcher on my behalf. Flattering but annoying nonetheless.

“If I hurt her. I will gladly lay down my blade and let you do your worst, sir.” Derlor smiled.

“Good. Now time for your entrance princess.” He walked to the door pushing it open. I could hear the people quiet down. Geralt leaned down and kissed my cheek quickly, leaving the spot hot in his wake. Derlor stood at the end of the red rug in the center of the room. He cleared his throat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the lady of the hour, Princess (Y/N)!” Geralt and I started walking down the center of the carpet. On either side were people from all over our kingdom. Many nobles I had known for years. I smiled at the familiar faces, as we continued walking to where my mother, father, and Jaskier.

“As many of you know, we have been preparing our daughter to take over for us one day-“ My father said, stepping forward, taking my hand from Geralt and smiling at me.

“But seeing as myself and my wife are in great health and nowhere near the end of our reign. And as you can all see our son has returned from his many great travels.” Vesimer walked forwards, a smile on his face and a pack in his hands.

“Your mother and I both think you are ready my dear,” Father said looking me in the eyes.

“Ready for what dad…?” I whispered, my voice wavering slightly, my stomach flipping and swelling. His eyes drifted behind me, looking at who I guessed was Geralt.

“You will be leaving the kingdom for a while.” My mouth ran dry, my eyes going to Jaskier who was beaming.

“We know that you will be in good hands, not that you need it. You will be leaving with Jaskier and Geralt and traveling the Continent to your heart’s content.” My hands squeezed into his harder as he spoke, my eyes burning with tears, my eyes bouncing between him, Jaskier, and my mother who was also near tears.

“You need to see the world, see what you can help improve on when you take over. Meet people, taste danger a little.” My arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly, my eyes closed the tears of joy slipping down my face.

“Thank you, dad…” I whispered and he chucked. He pulled me back and Jaskier came and stood in front of me.

“I've missed so much of your life, and I regret it so much. You have turned into such a wonderful young woman and it would be an honor if you joined us in our travels.” I could feel Geralt’s hand on my back as he stood next to me as I looked at Jaskier. My eyes gleaned at him, searching his facial features for any hesitation in the offer.

“You’re both serious?” I asked.

“Vesemir is very admin that you would be beneficial to me, in more ways then.” Geralt said with a small wink.

“So what do you say, do you want to come with us?” Jaskier asked, his hands holding mine.

“What a stupid question Jaskier! Of course, I want to!” The smile on my face nearly hurt, I had never been so happy in my life. I didn't have to say goodbye to Jaskier or Geralt, not for a while anyway. Jaskier grabbed me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug which I gladly returned.

“Everyone please, enjoy yourself! Food will be brought out soon!! Ale. wine and mead are already out! We thank you all so much for coming to celebrate our daughter’s birthday!” My father said to the room full of people who all clapped and cheered.

I turned away from Jaskier to Geralt who was still standing next to me. I put my hands on his chest gently leaning into him, his hands going to my waist.

“Are you sure you're okay with me coming along? I would hate to be a burden on you.” Geralt shook his head, smiling softly, his fingers stroking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“From what Vesemir told me today, you will only be an asset to me and my travels. Unlike your brother who just annoys me.” I laughed softly, rolling my eyes.

“You love him,” I said with a smile. He huffed, taking my hand in his leading me to our spot at the table.

“If you didn’t you would have never followed him for weeks to an unknown country to meet a sister you had no idea existed. Face it witcher, my brother has weaseled his way into that heart of yours.” He was filling his plate with food and a smile on the corner of his lips as he listened to me.

He handed me the plate of food I thought he was preparing for himself.

“Thank you, love,” I said as I took the plate from him, watching as he got some for himself. The people around us talking, laughing, and beginning the party that would surely last into the night. He leaned over, kissing my cheek softly then he started to eat.

The party had been going for hours. Everyone was a bit drunk including me. The wine in my cup had been the fourth do far, and I'm a lightweight. My body was warm, the sweet taste of the cherry wine lingering on my lips as I listened to my brother sing and play his lute. As the song ended I put the cup down, nearly knocking it over in the process, clapping for Jaskier.

“Jaskier come here!” I yelled with a slight giggle. He came over to me, his face red as he breathed hard, he too was drunk.

“Any song requests my lady?” He said with a cheesy bow of his head making me laugh maybe a little too loud.

“Sing me the song you first wrote for Geralt?” His face lit up as he looked behind me to Geralt who was sitting at the table next to Vesemir.

“He hates that song (Y/N),” Jaskier said making me laugh more.

“Oh but he’s never had it sang to him here! Jaskier we love him here. Common the people will sing, children will dance. Maybe hell get some coins tossed at him!” Jaskier laughed with me.

“Okay okay fine, only for you.” Jaskier walked over to the stage with the other bards whispering something to them before yelling over the crowd of people.

“This song is for my baby sister. I haven’t sung this one in a couple of years, but I think you lot will like it more than anyone I’ve ever sung for!!!” The crowd clapped for him as they all looked at him. I glanced behind me looking at Geralt who knew what song was coming. Our eyes met. I giggles and winked at him.

“When a humble bard

Graced a ride-along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song”

The crowd erupted into cheers, the smiles on their faces only growing, including my own. Many children ran into the middle of the room staring up at Jaskier as he sang, eyes gleaming.

“From when the White Wolf fought

A silver-tongued devil

His army of elves

At his hooves did they revel

They came after me

With masterful deceit

Brokedown my lute

And they kicked in my teeth”

People started singing along to the second verse. The room is filled with slurred, off-tune singing of my people. The warmth spread through my chest as I saw Jaskier’s face light up in a way I had never seen before. His attention went to Geralt momentarily looking at him with the same disbelief. I looked at Geralt to see he held the same expression. His smile was genuine, eyes wide as he listened to the people listen to the song about him. I left my spot from the middle of the room, quickly walking as to not trip in my drunken state. I got to the table in front of Geralt, my smile wide as I extended my hand.

“Care to dance with me witcher?” He cocked a curious eyebrow at me, probably due to my drunken state.

“I'm not much of a dancer, Dove.” He said, making me shake my head walking around the table, and grabbing his arm.

“Neither am I, that's what makes it fun.” He grunted standing, reluctantly following me into the crowd of people who cheered louder for him.

“Toss a coin to your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty

O' Valley of Plenty, oh

Toss a coin to Your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty”

Jaskier and the other bards stopped playing and singing, the crowd in front of him continuing the verse. Myself included. The sound of everyone singing my brother's famed song made my heart sore, everything was perfect. Even Geralt was smiling as he let me dance and spin with his hands, once taking his eyes off my body.

“You Witcher are a hero here!” I yellow over the music and crowd. He pulled me into him, his lips capturing my own in a very wet, sloppy kiss, impart due to my drunken state. The alcohol coring in my veins made me want to tear his clothes off then and there and let him have his way with me. But I wasn't drunk enough to let it happen. My arms wrapped around his neck as I kissed him back, the music and people drowning out of my ears as I tasted his lips. Everything about him was so intoxicating.

After a while he pulled back, my lips wet with his salvia, my chest heaving up and down, and my mind racing. I felt dizzy from the kiss.

“Common let’s get you some fresh air, dove.” He whispered, his arm wrapping around my waist as he led me out of the grant hall and onto a balcony. With one look from Geralt, the two love birds who were already out there left without a word. The cool night air hit my face and made me feel less dizzy. I walked over to the stone wall on the balcony, my hands resting on it, cooling me off more. Geralt's arms wrapped around my waist from behind holding me tightly and close to him.

“You are a rather drunk princess.” I giggled and nodded.

“I don't drink very often witcher, it goes straight to my head.” a large yawn interrupted my train of thought. Geralt chuckled and kissed my head.

“Would you like me to take you to bed?” My eyes felt rather heavy, the winemaking me more sleepy as time progressed.

“I'm such a dud, it's not even midnight,” I whined, smacking my hands on the stone softly. Geralt chuckled and ran his hands up and down my arms and shoulders.

“Common, you don't have to push yourself if you're tired.” Geralt started pulling me back to the door leading into the hallway.

“Fine. only because you're so nice to me.” I grumbled as he led me down the hall and into my room. He shut the door behind us as I walked over to the vanity, plopping myself down.

“I hope no one misses me too much. I desperately want out of this dress. It is beautiful but I cannot breathe.” Geralt chuckled from his spot at the door as he watched me attempt to pull the pins and brooches from my hair. I started to get frustrated, my hair being too intricately done for my drunk self.

Geralt wordlessly walked over to me and gently started to help me pull the pins from my hair. His fingers combed softly thru my hair, scratching my scalp gently as he worked to get them out of my hair. The small action was nearly lulling me to sleep in the chair. I heard a knock at the door which snapped me out of my sleepy state, my back straightening.

“Yes?” I turned around and saw Jaskier peeking through the door.

“You vanished, just wanted to check-in.” I smiled sweetly at him.

“I'm a very drunk Jaskier, I desperately want to sleep.’ He walked into the room and towards me. He was carrying a pitcher of water and a cup.

“I figured, drink this and-” He pulled out a vial from his pocket and handed it to me.

“-Vesemir gave this to me, says it is the perfect cure for a hangover. Also gave me one.” I smiled and placed the vile on my vanity along with the water and cup.

“Thank you, Jax.” He smiled and hugged me before turning and leaving to walk out the door, before he did he turned and pointed a finger at Geralt.

“If you decide to do anything dirty with my sister-”

“Jaskier!” I all but shrieked.

“Just, be quiet my room isn't too far away.” I could feel my face turn bright red, my fists balled at my side as I stood from the chair.

“I’m going to kill you.” Geralt’s arm wrapped around my waist pulling me back before I could attack my drunk brother. The door was shut and he was laughing down the hall.

“Such a prick.” I groaned and turned around pouring myself some water and drinking it. I grabbed the vile from the table pulling the cork out. Before it could be brought to my lips Geralt stopped my hand and brought the vile to his nose. He inhaled deeply a few times before realizing my hand,

“Just had to be sure.” I smiled and drank the contents. The taste was vile.

“Oh my god, that is awful,” I said coughing. Geralt laughed softly at me, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“Help me unlace my corset?” I turned my back to him. I felt his fingers delicately untied the lace one by one. I took a deep breath, breathing properly again. As the lace was losing the dress started to slip down my body. I quickly caught it before it dropped down my waist. Thankfully my back was to him. I heard him clear his throat.

“My night slip in on the bed, can you hand it to me?” I heard him move before the slip was in front of me.

“Could you, uh turn around?” I asked.

“Of course princess.'' After a minute I turned my head and saw he was facing the other direction. I let the dress fall from my body leaving me all but bare except for my undergarments, I slipped the night slip over my body and gently brushed his back. He turned around and smiled.

“Stay with me?” I asked softly.

“Of course dove.” He led me to the bed, pulling the quilts and sheets back allowing me to crawl in. I watched as he discarded his vest, and shirt leaving him in his tight trousers. My eyes wandered all over his scared torso and arms. He was breathtaking.

“You're staring dove.” He chuckled making me blush, hiding my face in the quilts.

“Can you blame me?” He laughed softly and walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked, sitting up slightly.

“Just to grab something more comfortable to sleep in, Dove.” He walked out the door leaving it open. He returned minutes later, in the same sleep pants he was wearing the night before, less tight. He shut the door and the curtains, walking over to the other side of the bed before getting in.

He scooped me up, placing me closer to him, my head on his firm chest. I could hear his heartbeat it was slow, soothing. His fingers stroked aimlessly over my body. The last thing I felt before sleep took me was his warm lips on my forehead.

@weallhaveadestiny @ayamenimthiriel @niiight-dreamerrrr @rn7rocks @fire-in-her-veinz @eternallyvenus

#Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fanart #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x yn #henry cavill #henry x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #geralt smut #jaskier witcher #jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #the witcher #witcher netflix

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

abs of steel

the 2.5k story of how Geralt came to have his season 2 armor, with some help from Jaskier, of course. read on ao3 here!

Jaskier putters around the room, with one of Geralt’s dozens of tiny bottles in his hand and a rag in the other. He gives it a half hearted shine before setting it back down and looking at Geralt.

Jaskier’s not sure how Geralt ever survived without him, honestly, because it seems like finding Geralt in varying states of unconsciousness is becoming a much too common occurrence. He supposes Geralt’s amount of passing out probably hasn’t changed, just the amount of times someone has coming looking for him. Jaskier’s heart does not ache at the thought.

Geralt’s chest moves shallowly under the blanket, and Jaskier goes to stoke the fire. He had sweetalked the innkeeper into giving them a better room when it had become apparent that their stay was going to be...extended, and he’s glad for it. The room has its own bath tub, and a fire place, and there’s even a soft rug by the bed where Jaskier can sit and compose without worrying about jostling Geralt’s injuries.

Jaskier casts a longing glance to his notebook, wishing that he could write and make the voices in his head stop whirling, but lyrics have been evading him ever since he found Geralt unconscious and even paler than usual.

Geralt had just been going after a lesser vampire, had reassured Jaskier that it wasn’t going to be a big deal, and to not wait up, but Jaskier’s glad he did.

Frankly, he doesn’t know why Geralt tells him not to do things when they both know he’s not going to listen.

He supposes it makes Geralt feel better. He doesn’t pretend to understand what happens in Geralt’s brain. He imagines it’s a lot of grunting and internal hmm-ing.

Geralt stirs under the covers, and Jaskier rushes across the room to stand by his side. Geralt blinks up at him, and Jaskier lets himself drift a hand over Geralt’s concerningly warm brow. He’s hot, but he’s not sweating, and Jaskier bites his lip. He gives Geralt what he hopes is a reassuring smile, but he thinks it might be more of a grimace.

Geralt slips a hand out from under the covers, and Jaskier takes the liberty of reaching out his own. Geralt could have died; he can’t be held responsible for his actions. “What happened?” Geralt groans, his voice scratchy and deep from disuse.

“Good question,” Jaskier says, glaring at him. Now that it doesn’t seem like Geralt is any imminent danger of never waking up again, it’s a little easier to be mad instead of just wracked with worry.

“It was...a pack of them,” Geralt remembers haltingly.

Jaskier hums, brushing a hand through Geralt’s hair. He wonders if Geralt would let him get away with brushing it. Maybe he’ll ask when Geralt doesn’t seem so groggy.

“It’s okay,” Jaskier soothes. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” Geralt automatically protests, going to sit up.

“Geralt, you are not, your rib is broken and the healer said one of your intestines might be punctured. You could get sepsis.”

“Witchers don’t get infections. I’m fine,” Geralt says again, but it’s even less convincing this time.

“Just...stay in bed. Can you do that? I know it goes against everything in you to not do your utmost to aggravate me, but listen just this once.”

Geralt lays back against the pillow, his hair spreading out in a halo around his head. “Fine.”

“Don’t look so pleased about it, love.”

If looks could kill, Jaskier would be haunting one very grumpy witcher. “I’m sure you’ll survive,” Jaskier says breezily. “I know, it’s the epitome of cruelty to make you rest. Someone let witcher protective services know.”

“My swords?” Geralt asks gruffly, changing the topic.

Jaskier rolls his eyes and huffs. Like he would forget Geralt’s swords. “Oiled and put away.”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t be grumpy just because you don’t have an excuse to get out of bed.”

“What about my armor?”

Jaskier casts a nervous glance to the corner. “I’m afraid that’s beyond my talents. They’re a little shredded.”

Geralt follows his line of sight to where his leather armor is in a pile on the ground, blood streaked and torn.

“Well, I need to get new, then,” Geralt says, attempting to sit up again.

He stops with a look from Jaskier, and Jaskier gives a hum of satisfaction. “I can get it for you.”

“Jaskier, you don’t even know what to look for.”

Jaskier glares at him. “How long have I been travelling with you for? And you don’t even think I know what you look for in your armor?”

Geralt harumphs. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Jaskier asks in delight. He wasn’t actually expecting to win that battle. Maybe he can get Geralt out of something black, for a change.

“Here,” Geralt says, leaning over the bed to rustle through his pack. Give the armorer this.”

Jaskier takes the drawing and instructions, and he’s ready to skip to the armorer’s, but Geralt’s expression pinches as he settles back into his spot on the bed, so he hurries back to his side. “What hurts?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier says, taking a page out of Geralt’s book.

Jaskier crosses his arms and stares at him for a solid minute before Geralt relents. “My ribs.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it? Now just let me see.”

He peels back the covers, wincing at the mess that is Geralt’s chest. By the time Jaskier had dragged him back to town, most of his wounds had started to clot, so the healer thought it was best to let them breathe, but now Jaskier has to look at them.

He carefully drifts his fingers over the torn tissue and mottled purple of what’s still intact, watching Geralt’s reaction carefully.

Eventually, he draws back. “I don’t think there’s anything else I can do,” he admits. “Let me get you something for the pain.”

Geralt grunts in annoyance, no doubt meaning something about witchers being nothing but vessels for pain or some other horrible thing that they ingrained in him during his nightmare of an upbringing. He goes over to Geralt’s bag, looking for the right roots and herbs to concoct his mixture. He pulls out Geralt’s mortar and pestle, grinding the ingredients together until he has a lumpy paste. He carefully scoops it out of the mortar and into a glass filled with water on the bedside table. He mixes it together vigorously and sets it back on the table for a moment while he helps Geralt sit up.

Geralt tries to wave him off, but Jaskier insists. Once there’s three pillows propping him up, Jaskier hands him the glass. Geralt sniffs at it doubtfully. “I think you might be trying to get ready of me,” he says.

Jaskier hides his laugh behind his hand. “I wouldn’t go through all this trouble if I was, now would I?”

“I suppose not,” Geralt sighs, grimacing as he knocks the whole thing back in one drag.

“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

Geralt smacks his lips together, gesturing for Jaskier to get him some more water. “Terrible. Possibly life threatening.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “You’re welcome. Can I trust you to behave while I’m gone?”

Geralt chooses not to dignify that with an answer. “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Jaskier says. “The innkeeper has children, don’t make me make them come up here to watch after you.”

“I’ll behave,” Geralt says dryly.

“Good. You better be in that exact spot when I come back.”

“Hmm,” Geralt says, and Jaskier knows that means that Geralt is the one who’s going to be ignoring him, for a change.

Jaskier just hopes that Geralt won’t jostle himself too much as he steps out of the door and into the hallway.

He makes his way down the steps and out onto the dusty main road of the village, peeking at the other wares being sold, particularly eyeing a doublet with stunning embroidery that he can’t believe is being sold in this dank little town, of all places. He makes a mental note to come back after getting Geralt’s armor. Jaskier investigates the baked goods, inhaling the scent of bread and surveying the hand pies, looking at their delightfully golden exteriors longingly.

Jaskier makes it to the armorer without incident, a brass bell ringing overhead as he steps inside. The armorer crosses her arms as she regards Jaskier thoughtfully. “You lost?” she asks.

Jaskier flashes her a winning smile. “Not at all. I’m here for a friend.”

The armorer stares back at him, unimpressed. “You know, it’s important that I’m able to measure someone to give them the best fit. I don’t want someone getting killed and blaming it on my armor. No, if someone dies, it’s going to be because of their own ineptitude.”

“I’m certain that won’t be a problem,” Jaskier says. “Have you ever made armor for a witcher before?”

Her eyes light up. “Your friend is a witcher? To tell the truth, things have been a little slow around here since the war ended.”

“I’ll pay you well, don’t worry,” Jaskier says, producing the paper Geralt had given him from his cloak with a flourish.

She practically snatches the scroll out of Jaskier’s hands, her eyes roving over the paper. She mutters something to herself before turning back to look at Jaskier.

“I still need the measurements,” she says. “It’s even more crucial for such an important client.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, I have them right here.” Jaskier fishes his notebook from his satchel, flipping through until he finds the page with Geralt’s sizes on it. Jaskier swears that Geralt purposely ruins all of his fine clothing between banquets he drags him to, because Jaskier always has to buy Geralt new clothes.

Actually, come to think of it, he’s never seen the evidence of them being damaged, and it’s not like Geralt just wears them around. Jaskier shakes his head as he realizes Geralt probably just sells them. Jaskier supposes Geralt does always swear that will be the last banquet he ever attends after each one, just for Jaskier to talk him into one more, but that’s no excuse.

Jaskier tilts his head for a moment as he contemplates how to get his revenge, smirking when the idea dawns upon him. Jaskier sketches a quick picture and pushes it towards the armorer. “How much extra would this cost?”

She looks down at the page dubiously.

Jaskier gives her his most charming smile.

It’s been three days, and Geralt is sick of lying in bed. No matter how much he swears to Jaskier that he’s better, that his rib has knit itself back together, he doesn’t believe him.. It’s just a bruised rib at this point, but Jaskier doesn’t take pity on him, just offers a distraction for Geralt in the form of being better at gwent than he has any right to be.

Geralt sighs heavily, looking at Jaskier out of the corner of his eye.

“Don’t think that will make me take pity on you, Geralt,” Jaskier says, not even looking up from his composing notebook. “Besides, we have to wait for your armor anyway.”

“What’s taking so long?” Geralt complains.

“Perfection takes time. Besides, the armorer’s never seen any of your witcher-y things, so you have to give her time to figure it out.”

Geralt groans and sits up, swinging his legs out of the bed. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Jaskier rushes to him, but Geralt brushes him off. “I’m fine,” he growls.

Jaskier raises his hands and backs away. “Fine, fine. Don’t be so grumpy when all I’ve been doing is taking care of you.”

Geralt glares at him, and Jaskier strokes a hand through his soft hair. “You do deserve it, you know,” Jaskier says.

Geralt looks down, a bothersome flush creeping up his neck.

“I think I’ll go check on the armor, since you’re in such a rush.” Jaskier rolls his eyes. “She said it would be done sometime today.”

Geralt rummages through his pack, hardly looking up at Jaskier. “Good. Then we can finally move on. I was talking to the innkeeper about a wyvern a day’s ride away.”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, here, hmm?”

Geralt grumbles as Jaskier leaves, finding himself excited to see the new armor against his will. He so rarely gets anything that doesn’t already have a crust of dirt on it that anytime he has a sword or armor made, he finds himself looking forward to it.

Geralt goes to the mirror in the corner of the room and lifts up his shirt, noting how the mottled purple has become large splotches of greenish brown. Everything’s looking good, so he sorts his satchel, shaking his head fondly as he reorganizes his elixirs. Whenever Jaskier gets his hands on them, he always sorts them by color, but that’s not what Geralt likes. He could just tell Jaskier to leave his things alone, but he doesn’t have the heart for it.

Geralt putters around the room, making the bed and hoping that if he’s ready to go by the time Jaskier gets back, he can convince him to move on. He can smell Jaskier’s anxious energy, anyway; he knows Jaskier is just staying here for his benefit.

Geralt finishes putting the last of his things into his pack and is just contemplating going down to the stables to see Roach when Jaskier bursts through the door, armor in hand.

Jaskier hands it off to him with a self satisfied flourish, and Geralt freezes as he looks at it. “You can’t be serious.”

“The armorer and I thought it would make you like quite fetching.”

“Jaskier.”

“What, don’t you like it? It’s a gift, Geralt, I’m offended.”

Geralt rubs his fingers over the indents in the chest plate. He has so many questions.

“It’s the new fashion,” Jaskier assures him.

“I’m a witcher, not a model.”

“Why not both?” Jaskier asks airily. He looks around the room. “So, are you ready to go then?”

Jaskier steps forward to help him buckle the new armor in place, Geralt eyeing it dubiously. Besides from the obvious issue of the chest piece, it’s not even black; it’s a dark green that catches and shimmers in the light. Geralt resists the urge to bury his face in his hands. No one is going to take him seriously now.

He huffs a sigh, trying to communicate his displeasure with Jaskier, but as ever, Jaskier seems immune to his glares. Geralt slings his satchel over his shoulder and steels himself.

As they walk down the street, it’s not as terrible as Geralt was expecting. Sure, the sun is glinting off of his abs and blinding him a little, but Geralt doesn’t hear anyone snickering at him. Everyone just walks by, looks at him, and quickly glances at their feet, which is par for the course for the life of a witcher.

Geralt tilts his chin a little higher, thinking maybe this won’t be so bad after all. He has a new spring in his step when he hears someone calling his name behind him. Geralt turns around, thinking it sounds an awful lot like his brother, and he’s proven right when Lambert skids to a stop in front of him.

“Hey, I’m glad I ran into you; I heard there’s a nest of wyverns a few towns over—” Lambert’s mouth flaps for a second. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Geralt turns to glare at Jaskier, and he smiles innocently.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #geralt's ridiculous ridiculous armor that pains me to look at #contemplative writing

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buckyodinson · 2 years

Text

Flower and Flame

Jaskier x gn!Reader

Summary: Jaskier is dealing with the trauma of his torture at the hand of Rience and you do what you can to ease his suffering

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: references to panic attacks, light season 2 spoilers, canon-divergence

A/N: I binge-watched The Witcher over Christmas while I had Covid and was isolating in my bedroom, and I am now in love with one (1) adorable bard, and this just kinda happened - I hope you enjoy! I know nothing about the Witcher books or games, this is purely based on the Netflix show!

Since being tortured by Rience, Jaskier has been very wary of fire. He hasn’t outwardly admitted it to you or Geralt, but you don’t miss the way he flinches when a campfire crackles and hisses loudly or when a large flame jumps upwards unexpectedly. When you settle for the night in the forest, he’ll always be the furthest away from the fire of the three of you.

He downplays what happened to him and will brush it off with some witty comment when it’s brought up, but you can tell it truly haunts Jaskier. There have been several nights where he’s awoken from a nightmare and he’s panting and as soon as he spots the campfire, panic rises throughout his body until he remembers where he is and calms down again. And those are only a handful of times you’ve been awake to see it so you have no idea how often it is actually happening.

You’ve taken it upon yourself to put yourself between Jaskier and fire whenever you can. When there’s a campfire at night, you make sure you set up your bedroll between Jaskier and the fire, to block his view of it as much as you can. If you’re staying in an inn, you’ll pick whichever chair or bed is closest to the fireplace so he never has to be too near it. If you’re somewhere where there are lots of candles burning, you do your best to stay near Jaskier so you can distract his wandering gaze from the small flames with little jokes, anecdotes and meaningless conversations.

He has definitely noticed, and his heart swells everytime you do it. He so desperately wants to thank you for it, but then that means he has to admit that he’s struggling and he doesn’t want to admit that to anyone, not even to himself.

He’s not ready for that conversation yet.

He’s not ready to admit the feelings he has for you yet, either.

However, one night he just can’t hide it anymore.

Jaskier set up his bedroll in the comfiest spot he could find that was a reasonable distance from the campfire and he announced he was off to sleep. You bid him goodnight and sorted out your own bedroll for the night while you watched him contently as he settled down and found a comfy enough position to sleep in.

You didn’t go to sleep right away, remembering you’d been neglecting your weapons for a while. So you were cleaning your sword when you noticed Jaskier shiver in his sleep. You chuckled softly as he curled up tighter and pulled his blanket closer around himself before seemingly settling again. You tried to pull your attention back to your sword but then Jaskier kept on shivering. Without thinking, you grabbed your own blanket and laid it carefully over Jaskier, smiling as he relaxed in his sleep, a faint smile grazing his own lips.

You returned to your spot by the fire and finished up polishing your sword. Geralt reappeared from settling Roach for the night, and while he didn’t say anything, the smirk on his face was enough to show you he noticed the blanket.

“He was shivering, what was I supposed to do?” You glared at him.

“Leave him be? Now you’ll be shivering in your sleep and I’ll have to give you mine.”

“Or you could ignore me? I thought Witchers didn’t have feelings?” You teased and he rolled his eyes, “I’m close enough to the fire anyway, I won’t need it.”

You get a grunt in response and then there’s silence for a few minutes. Then you’re surprised by the soft tone that Geralt’s voice adopts as he breaks the silence, “You love him, don’t you?”

“Is it really that obvious?” You huff.

“Maybe to me but clearly not to him, or he’d have admitted his feelings for you by now.”

“His feelings?” You furrow your eyebrows.

A deep laugh rumbles from Geralt’s chest, “And you call yourself observant?”

Before you can pry any more, Geralt announces he is going to bed, and you’re left with your thoughts. You lay down on your bedroll facing Jaskier and eventually let sleep consume you, with your mind drifting to your favourite bard.

You’re woken up at some point in the night by some shuffling nearby. You crack an eye open and see Jaskier sitting up and breathing heavily.

You don’t make any moves to let him know you’re awake, choosing to watch him quietly with the one eye open. You watch a calm slowly wash over him when he takes in his surroundings and then confusion etch his features when he notices the extra blanket draped over him.

He immediately recognises it as yours and turns to look at you. You screw your eyes closed and hope he didn’t notice you.

He whispers your name and you don’t respond. A few seconds go by and you think you’re in the clear but then he utters a quiet “I know you’re awake.”

You sheepishly open your eyes and are met by a shy smile on his own face.

“Why have I got your blanket?” He asks softly.

“You needed it more than me, you were shivering.” You reply.

He looks past you, “Thank you, but you can have it back. The fire is out now, so it’s only a matter of time before you get cold too.”

You turn around and notice that the fire was indeed smouldering now, and to further prove his point, a shiver wracked through your body at that exact moment. When you turn back to Jaskier, he has a knowing smirk on his face.

“I’m fine, Jaskier, really.” You play it off.

There’s an uncomfortable silence and you wrack your brain trying to think of something witty to say, but you’re caught off guard by Jaskier.

“Come over here and we can share the blankets.” He holds the blanket open, inviting you to crawl underneath them with him.

“W-what?” Is all you can stutter out.

“Please?” He pouts and tried his best puppy-dog eyes on you.

“Fuck.” You mutter, never able to resist those beautiful blue eyes of his, and he smiles and chuckles genuinely.

You stand up and drag your bedroll next to his, sliding under the blankets he still holds in the air. There’s not an awful lot of room, so you’re pressed against one another quite close. You sigh immediately at the warmth of his body heat that’s been kept under the blankets.

“Thank you” you murmur, mere inches from his face.

“Thank you. For everything. I know you’ve noticed the way I’ve been acting since the uh- since that…”

“You don’t have to say it.” You look into his eyes and smile. He reciprocates and you see the grateful look in his eyes.

“And I’ve noticed all the little things you’ve been doing to help me. I appreciate them. And I appreciate you too. I’ve been meaning to thank you but I’ve just been too scared to admit that I needed the help. I’m sorry.” He tentatively reaches a hand out and brushes a finger against your cheek, feeling the heat rise on your skin.

“There’s nothing to apologise for, Jaskier. I… I care about you, I just wanted you to feel comfortable. A-and safe.” Your voice falters at the feel of his warm hand against your cheek.

“And I’ve never been more safe or comfortable. Even with this bloody tree root digging into my side.” He shuffles dramatically, huffing as you laugh.

He inadvertently shuffles just that bit closer to you and your breath hitches at how close your faces now are.

You decide that now is as good a time as any and take a deep breath before quietly baring your heart, “I’ve never been more comfortable than I am right now. I love you, Jaskier.”

His eyebrows almost leave his face with how quickly they rise at your admission. He’s dumbfounded for a second but then he leans closer and whispers “I love you too” before capturing your lips gently.

He pulls you ever closer to him and you both pull apart, resting your foreheads against one another.

“I’ve waited for so long to do that...” he sighs.

“Me too.” you reply breathlessly.

You chat aimlessly for a while and steal a few more kisses before falling asleep once more, holding onto one another tightly. Even the uncomfortable forest floor couldn’t stop you both from having your best nights sleep in years.

When Geralt woke up in the morning and looked over at the pair of you wrapped in one another’s arms, all he could do was smile.

I can’t guarantee I’ll be writing anything else anytime soon, work is hectic and I’ve got a lot going on in life at the moment so I rarely have the brainpower for writing, but if anyone wants to send any Jaskier prompts or ideas, I will try and write them if I’m inspired?

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier x y/n #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher imagine #the witcher fic #the witcher oneshot #jaskier fluff #jaskier imagine #jaskier fic #jaskier fanfic #jaskier fanfiction #jaskier oneshot

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

“shall i capture your heart with a song?”

A/N: lol, i only know the witcher on netflix, and what i have found out about jaskier via tumblr osmosis, so how accurate is this? i guess we’ll have to see, lol.

requested HERE WE ARE, IMAGINING WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO BE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TO EVENTUAL MARRIAGE WITH THE ONLY AND ONLY JASKIER....

well, seeing as jaskier is of noble birth, i’m going to say that you are, too.

your families are old friends, so when you guys first meet, (i want to say you’re like 8 or 9) it’s at some celebration or another and at first you’re a little unsure if you should talk to each other or just,,,, stand there.

one of your parents absent mindedly tells you to talk to the boy, and so you have to do the awkward introductions.

“i’m (y/n) (l/n)”

“i’m julian alfred pankratz.”

“that’s unfortunate.”

“hey!”

“don’t worry. i’ll find something better to call you.”

“yeah, well... i’ll find something better to call you.”

(sorry, guys,,,,, i still can’t get over jaskier’s real name)

the two of you decide to sneak away from your parents to get some food or something, and then you eventually decide to sneak away from the party entirely

it was jaskier’s idea, really. he was trying to avoid some family or something - the family that thinks they are oh so better than you and compare achievements and what not...

the two of you are just wandering (jaskier’s sense of direction is horrible so it’s really up to you to keep everything straight) and you end up in some field or another, talking about whatever comes to mind. jaskier is telling you stories and you scoff.

“you’re like a weed, julian alfred pankratz. like a.... dandelion.”

“i am not!”

“what flower would you want to be, then?”

“something better than a dandelion!”

“like what, a buttercup?”

“yOU are.... are like....”

“like what?”

“...aconite! that’s a poison.”

“aconites are related to buttercups, dandelion. you can’t get rid of me.”

and jaskier thinks it’s wildly funny that you know horticulture, of all things. he finds it so funny, in fact, he fails to miss that you’ve coined a new nickname for him.

it seems that all the time, afterward, you run into jaskier and his family. by virtue of constantly seeing each other, the two of you end up being really good friends.

it’s a running gag that you love horticulture, and since the illustrious julian alfred pankratz uses it against you at every turn, you fluctuate between calling him “jaskier” and “dandelion”. he eventually gets used to it, but he hates it when others start to catch on.

he also comes up with ridiculous nicknames for you, but none of them quite seem to stick. he’s constantly cycling through through new ones, hoping to find the right one.

the two of you hang out a lot, but since you do a lot of reading or gardening and need jaskier to stop chatting with you for five minutes he picks up the lute and learns to play it really well.

you’re the first one who tells him his singing voice is quite beautiful.

“i’m sorry, did you just say my singing voice is ‘quite beautiful’?”

“it’s nice, okay?”

“nice?”

“if you keep this up, i’ll just have to insult you.”

“you’d never.”

“do you not remember the first time we met?”

“like it was yesterday.”

“i laid down some pretty decent insults, if i remember right.”

“i called you poison.”

“yeah, but aconites are pretty. unlike dandelions.”

and jaskier scoffs. “and buttercups?”

“they’re not bad looking.”

so we all know that jaskier supposedly gets into poetry when he’s 19 because he’s inspired by his love for the countess de stael,,, bUT,,,, consider this instead:

he actually gets into poetry for you.

jaskier has had a few loves at this point, and with each one, he’s a nervous wreck. you always help him by curating the most beautiful bouquets (all of which come from your amazing, thriving garden) and you are always there to help him with his flirting (which needs serious help,,,, i’m not even sure you’re cut out for the job)

you guys have probably even kissed before - both of you were regrettably drunk (don’t tell your parents) and jaskier said he desperately needed ‘the practice’. plus, he wanted to know!!!! was he a good kisser or not? no one else would rate him on a scale from 1-10 with brutal but accurate honesty! neither of you fully remember what exactly happened, come morning, but you remember the lead up to the moment and jaskier remembers the thoughts running through his head afterward... both of you agree not to speak of it.

anyway, when jaskier starts to realize that he has these awkward feelings that seem suspiciously illicit, he knows he has to get them out, somehow, but you are the only one who would listen to his complaints, and he very well can’t tell you.

so he decides he has to write them down.

but clearly they can’t be literal, lest someone stumble upon them,,,,, so he has to learn the secret art of poetry.

you, of course, notice how oddly quiet hanging out with jaskier has become, and his odd questions on flower symbolism, and it doesn’t take you long until you realize that, of all things, jaskier has turned to poetry.

“you can’t make fun of me for liking horticulture, anymore, dandelion. you’re a p o e t .”

“at least i’m a good one.”

and you flick his forehead

“what will your stage name be? surely julian alfred pankratz won’t work.”

“which one should it be? jaskier or dandelion?”

and you laugh, the sound like a summer breeze.

“i knew you’d come to appreciate my nicknames, eventually.”

jaskier frequently “serenades” you, under the guise that he’s practicing, of course, but it’s also his not so subtle way of seeing if you like his poetry and his songs - they are for you, after all.

“you’ll certainly capture hearts with that one.”

“did i capture yours?”

and you, feeling very flustered, especially seeing as you’ve had feelings for jaskier for a while now, can only let out a guttural sort of scoff.

“of course,” and you try to say it over the top and jokingly, but you can feel your face heating up.

and jaskier winks. you huff and turn back to your books.

oh, yikes, i didn’t realize this was getting a little long,,,, let’s speed things up.

everyone knows that you and jaskier are end game. your families think it’s vvv sweet, and everyone that either you or jaskier attempt to woo know it’s only going to be a passing fancy because,,,, have you seen the way you look at each other? like you hang the moon and the stars?

but of course, both of you are dramatic as hell, so you frequently have conversations like:

“we’re piss poor in love, aren’t we?”

“i guess the world just doesn’t understand our genius.”

“terrible that i have to share this lonely cleverness with the likes of you.”

“absolutely devastating.”

and you just sit there for a while, staring at the ceiling.

maybe you guys do some traveling together for a while, but you eventually find a place to put down roots (lol, horticulture jokes). maybe you run an apothecary! that would be precious.

either way, jaskier is a bard so when he isn’t traveling around, he’s staying with you.

a frequent request of yours goes something like this:

“dandelion, play me a song.”

“what kind?”

“a love song.”

and he does, and afterward, he sits down across from you and winks.

“did i capture your heart with that one?”

and some nights you’re a little too tired to make a show of it and some of that blissful candor slips out and slaps jaskier across the face when you smile and say, “yes.”

if you haven’t noticed, the two of you hella dance around your feelings. it’s insane, because catchphrase is: “anything for you” meanwhile you are the most soft™ for him and yet you don’t seem to clue in.

100%, you are going to have to be the one that expresses your love first, because jaskier is the definition of suffering in silence

but what’s also really funny is you both probably try to keep it hidden just how long you have loved each other for, and yet you are both nosy as hell and want to know how long this has been going on, so it leads to really funny conversations where you are both trying to dodge giving a proper timeline, but are drying to coax one out of the other.

ohmygod, i forgot to do marriage headcanons

alright, lightning round: firstly, i don’t think it takes you guys long to get married - you have known each other for so long, and you already act like a married couple, might as well make it official

jaskier refuses to let anyone else sing at his wedding, but you eventually coax him into it because how else are you going to dance with him?

let jaskier invite all of his witcher friends. the divide between your wealthy families and the witchers would be funny as hell. like inlaws that don’t get along but wORSE.

some quick marriage thoughts:

jaskier has definitely learned the art of flowers, thanks to you, so (1) he leaves you flowers everywhere, and (2) both of you get to garden with each other all the time.

sleep and jaskier don’t mix - no matter what time of the night, you can wake up and he’s up and about, doing something or another. maybe he’s writing a song, maybe he’s eating, maybe he’s arguing with yennefer (she often visits, just to antagonize jaskier. you guys are great friends) in the livingroom and trying to keep his voice down

similar with nicknames, jaskier is constantly using pet names, trying to decide on which one is best. it doesn’t really work out, but maybe the most common one is he’ll call you his muse.

and it only sounds cheesy 20% of the time

you guys get to go to parties together! that’s fun - you like dressing up and sneaking away half way through because you’re bored. you guys steal food and hide out until they realize the bard is missing and drag him back.

so we all know jaskier is big on compliments, and it only gets worse when the two of you are together. it’s like,,,, yes. now i can shower you with love and affection at all hours of the day, and it’s okay! he still does his poorly timed winks but he insists they’re charming!

you begrudgingly agree

consider for a moment: going to get breakfast with this man. first of all, breakfast is probably his favorite meal, and he’s always adamant you get a good one (since being with geralt means no breakfast at all). jaskier talks like you haven’t seen him in years, despite living together, and he’s very big on holding your hand or bopping you on the nose. plus, he smiles.

oh! and his singing is 100% contagious, so it doesn’t take long before you are singing around the house, and jaskier is just stunned at you,,,, you find him staring and roll your eyes at his ridiculousness, but this man is in love!!!! let him be in love!!!!

and you also talk to your plants, so you know jaskier picks that up, to. you’re a very vocal couple, lol.

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

-- taglist: @lenalxvegood, @cooloaflandhero, @swanimagines, @multifandomfix // message me if you want to be added!

#jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier headcanons #jaskier witcher #jaskier x you #jaskier imagine #reader insert #gender neutral reader #tw marriage #fluff #the witcher

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reinvent-and-believe · 4 years

Note

Hi :) Dialogue prompt 44, Eskel + Geralt?

Dialogue prompt 44 - “I still remember the way you taste”

Wow anon. You get me. You really get me.

Firstly, what a perfect prompt. Secondly, sorry it took me 2+ months to actually write it! And thirdly...I added Jaskier. I’m sorry, I know you didn’t ask for that, I can’t keep him away. Geralt/Eskel is still the primary focus here, but in the context of established Geraskier and with Jaskier still very much involved. This accidentally turned into something like 7.5K of Jaskier and Eskel soft-domming the hell out of Geralt. So, uh...enjoy?

CW: rough sex/soft feelings, undernegotiated kink, nonexplicit references to teenage sexuality, brief discussions of internalized homophobia

—

“Really should be playing for coin.” Geralt grins as he clears his cards after his second victory of the night and shuffles his Nilfgaardian deck.

Eskel curses under his breath.

The witchers sit in a pair of ancient wingback chairs with worn, faded upholstery that might have been crimson in a former life, drawn close to the hearth, a small end table between them holding their Gwent cards and pints of mead. Jaskier sits perched on the arm of Geralt’s chair, his legs draped casually across his lover’s lap as he brushes soft white hair through his long fingers, humming softly to himself.

“Wiping the floor with me like that is its own reward.” It’s a grumble, but a good-natured one. Most everything Eskel does is good-natured, from what Jaskier’s seen. He appreciates that about the witcher.

It’s a fairly usual night at Kaer Morhen.

Well, as usual as a night at Kaer Morhen can be. After years of only vague, grunted acknowledgements of wintering in the mountains, Jaskier had been shocked and delighted at Geralt’s unexpected invitation when beset by an early first frost traveling through Kaedwen. “Winter’ll come before you reach Oxenfurt,” he’d justified brusquely, mindlessly tracing circles into the warm skin of Jaskier’s back as they huddled together on the inn’s musty straw pallet, but when the bard kissed him softly and told him he’d be delighted to see his home, the deep wrinkles on his forehead relaxed into something open, peaceful. They arrived a few weeks later, just before the snow drifts made the mountain pass nigh unbreachable.

Just being in these cold halls, rich with history and joy and pain, feels akin to the unsettling mystery of watching someone observe a religious sacrament, something Jaskier can only view from the outside, can never truly understand. But after upwards of a month sequestered in the remote keep, they’ve established something of a routine. Vesemir retires to the library after dinner most evenings. Every four or five days, Lambert gets restless and disappears into the surrounding mountains to hunt for a few nights.

(The first time Jaskier had been mortified, sure that he’d driven him away. “It’s just Lambert,” Geralt reassured him. “Bastard’s not well socialized.”

“And you know it’s bad, coming from Geralt,” Eskel added, but there’s nothing but fondness in his genial smirk.)

So most nights it’s the three of them whiling away the hours before retiring to their chambers. Jaskier finds he doesn’t mind; while Geralt clearly cares a great deal for Vesemir and Lambert, it’s only when they’re alone with Eskel that Geralt’s guard seems to vanish entirely. They catch up on jobs they worked throughout the year, drink together, occasionally reference shared history, although always briefly. In his years of friendship with Geralt and the years of something more, Jaskier has always been the one to keep the conversation going, an unending prattle that Geralt rarely interrupts, but here, Jaskier finds himself listening more often than not, observing the quiet, unassuming intimacy between the two witchers. Here within the walls of Kaer Morhen, here in Eskel’s warmth, Geralt is loose and comfortable and safe in a way Jaskier has rarely seen him in over a decade spent together on the Path.

Jaskier smiles at Eskel, a little too brightly, perhaps, but he doesn’t mind. He’s far from drunk, but between Geralt’s arm wrapped around his waist, the easy comfort of Eskel’s presence, the roaring fire before them and the honey-sweet mead, he feels pleasantly warm all over. “Eskel,” he starts as the witchers draw for another round, “you’ve known Geralt longer than anyone else in the world. Well, Vesemir excepted, of course.”

He hums in affirmation. “S’pose so. What about it?”

“That being the case, I think it only fair that you indulge me in some dirt.”

Eskel looks at him blankly.

“Come on, dirt! You must have plenty, you’ve known each other for, what, at least five hundred years now?”

“At least.” Geralt snorts at Jaskier’s obnoxious shit-eating grin at the exaggeration and plays a third spy card in a row, easily blocking the punch Eskel aims at his arm.

“Come now, Eskel, please? I’m sure you must have loads of dirt you’ve just been dying to, well, to unload! Let’s unlock those memories, boys, and tell me the greatest Kaer Morhen scoop of the past century.”

Eskel’s smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not sure you really want those memories unlocked, bard,” he says gently.

Jaskier’s breath catches. The last thing he wants is to spoil the relaxed evening with whatever cruelties spark the haunted looks he’s caught a few times during his stay. “No, no, of course not those kinds of memories,” he amends. “None of the witchery sort. The fun things, silly things! Come on, it can be anything. Embarrassing stories, charming anecdotes, stupid pranks you pulled on each other, youthful indiscretions—wait, no, what did I say?”

Both witchers suddenly seem preternaturally focused on their Gwent cards.

A delighted grin slowly creeps onto Jaskier’s face. “Youthful indiscretions?” he repeats, noting how Geralt looks almost sheepish. “I was joking about that one but by all means, I love a good scandal! I simply must have all the details, the tawdrier the better.”

“No scandal,” Eskel answers easily. “There’s nothing…”

“Oh ho ho no, my friend, I’m afraid I’m a bit too well acquainted with Geralt’s non-expressions to let this pass quite so easily.” He’s practically bouncing with excitement in Geralt’s lap, which earns him a glare, but not a very heartfelt one. The most delicate shade of pink has taken up residence in the tips of Geralt’s ears, the apples of his cheeks. Jaskier kisses him lightly on the nose. “What youthful indiscretions, Geralt?”

Geralt rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk upward. “Nothing as obscene as you’re dreaming up,” he mutters drily. “Dumb kid stuff.”

“Just a little healthy competition in the training yard.” Eskel’s smiling, but he’s watching Geralt carefully. “Everybody loves an incentive.”

Jaskier leans in conspiratorially. “Incentive?”

Eskel shrugs, placing a commander’s horn to double his ranged combat cards. “You know, loser jerks the winner off, that sort of thing. ‘Course, you dose up a bunch of horny teenagers with a couple times the regular helping of hormones, and, well, things tend to...escalate?”

“Of course.” Jaskier shifts and inadvertently rubs against the line of Geralt’s cock, which seems to have taken a distinct interest in the conversation, no matter how disinterested its owner tries to look behind his cards. “So, to the victor goes the handjob, eh? A noble endeavor.” He squirms again, very advertently rolling his hips in just the right place this time. The heavy arm around Jaskier’s waist slips down to stroke casually at his thigh. He stops himself from preening at the unexpected rift in Geralt’s composure, but only barely. “Was this all the young men in your—class? Cohort? Uh, battalion? What do you call it?”

“Hands caught on with some of them,” Eskel acknowledges. His eyes, all blown-wide black pupils rimmed with thin rings of gold, track every minute movement of Geralt’s hand on the bard’s thick thigh, straining beneath deep indigo satin. “But a few of us progressed to mouths. Thighs.”

“I’m sure that was delightful,” Jaskier breathes. He threads his fingers into Geralt’s hair, tugging gently on a lock. “So you partook in these escapades, did you, darling?”

Eskel snorts. “Partook,” he parrots, eyes flickering teasingly to Geralt. “Like he wasn’t the one casually suggesting it every time we hit the training yard.”

“Oh please, do tell.” The fire crackles in the hearth before them. By all the gods, there’s nowhere Jaskier would rather be than here, caught in this sparking current between the two witchers.

“Geralt’s the best fighter.” There’s a hint of a growl in Eskel’s gentle voice Jaskier’s never noticed before, low and hot and dangerous. “Always been the best with a sword since the first time he held one. But once we started messing around, didn’t take long to notice I was winning more than usual. After a few weeks I was beating him just about every time we fought.”

“Gods,” Jaskier breathes.

Eskel licks his lips. “Don’t act surprised, bard,” he says softly. There’s a new, intoxicating heat in his gaze. “The whole castle’s heard you two. You seem pretty familiar with Geralt’s taste for cock.”

Geralt’s arm slips tight around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him harder into the ever-more insistent press against the bard’s arse. He palms brazenly at Jaskier’s cock, but his eyes don’t leave Eskel, his face collected, calm. “Still remember the way you taste.”

“Fuck, Geralt.” Eskel’s hand drifts to mirror Geralt’s, grinding roughly against his codpiece.

Jaskier plants a hand on the chair’s back, twisting around enough to pull Geralt into a heated, messy kiss. “Gods, you’re stunning, you know that?” he moans against his lips, tangling a demanding hand into that long white hair. “Gorgeous, shameless thing, throwing fights you were perfectly capable of winning just to get a good dicking, was that the way of it, love?”

Geralt’s eyes flicker closed, accompanied by an aborted, keening noise in his throat.

“Which was all fine, until Vesemir called him out for holding back in the middle of the training yard.” Some of the teasing quality drains from Eskel’s voice. “You know Geralt. Being berated in front of the whole school by your mentor for your piss poor performance is devastating anyway, but for Geralt?”

“I’d forgotten about that,” he admits quietly. “That was a shit day. Halfway through his lecture I swore off sex forever. Nothing kills the mood quite like Vesemir’s disappointed face.”

Jaskier kisses his temple. “Glad that didn’t last, love.”

“Didn’t last long at all,” Eskel chuckles. “Pretty sure you had my dick down your throat in the back of the stables twenty minutes later.”

Geralt’s wry grin serves as confirmation. “It’d been a rough day. Sometimes you need a little consolation.”

Jaskier looks between the two, looks at the soft smiles on both of their faces. The sheer eroticism that was all-consuming a moment ago lingers, shifting into a background pulse as this gentle, familiar openness emerges.

They love each other.

Jaskier feels an overwhelming rush of relief, suddenly, of gratitude, to know that even with all the cruelties Geralt has faced over the past century, he’s had this easy warmth to come home to nearly every winter.

But love isn’t something readily acknowledged, let alone expressed, for Geralt—if anyone knows that, it’s Jaskier. So he smiles disarmingly and goes to work.

“How right you are, Geralt!” he says brightly. “Everyone needs a consoling touch now and then. What about after you left training? Any consolation during chance encounters on the Path? Or when you returned for the winter, perhaps?”

Jaskier doesn’t miss the way Geralt stares at the floor, nor the hunger that flashes in Eskel’s eyes before he looks away, too. When he speaks, it’s measured again. “It didn’t continue past training.”

“What a shame. Well, during training, then, what about fucking?” he asks blithely.

Geralt’s the first to find his voice, a defensive grunt. “Wasn’t like that.”

Eskel leans back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. “Well, it was, of course,” he says slowly. “A hand or a mouth in the dark you can write off as just getting your rocks off. You start talk about fucking…” He shrugs stiffly. “It starts to mean something. Starts to say something about you.” He’s quiet for a moment, staring into the fire. “You get told a lot of things when you’re a kid. Think we all understood pretty clearly how it’d be if anybody found out. So you start coming up with reasons why it’s not like that, why you’re not like that. To make it easier.”

Geralt hasn’t spoken, but he clings a little closer, leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Takes time to sort through it all,” Eskel muses. “I think most of the stuff they taught us, Vesemir and the others...most of it came from a good place. They wanted us to survive, and part of that means not making yourself any more of a target than you already are. Doesn’t mean it didn’t fuck us up even more, though.” He leans forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and eyes fixed on Geralt. “I’m proud of you, Wolf,” he murmurs, a little sad smile on his lips. “Never thought either of us’d get to have this.” He gestures briefly at Geralt and Jaskier entwined in the chair, a twinge of something that might be yearning flashing through his eyes before he looks away, taking a drink.

Geralt plants a small kiss on Jaskier’s shoulder, holds him a little tighter. He wants to comfort Eskel, the bard understands suddenly, showering Jaskier with all the tender physical assurances he doesn’t feel he can give Eskel. And Eskel, with his sweet, melancholy smiles, his gentle percipience, his quiet understanding...he deserves everything Geralt wants to give him and more.

“It seems to me,” Jaskier begins in a delicate singsong, “that we have some unfinished business here.”

“How do you figure?”

“I feel this competition has not been followed to its logical conclusion. Not reached its full potential. You’ve played for hands, mouths, thighs. It seems that the natural progression should be playing for arse next. Winner takes the loser, as it were.”

Silence.

Jaskier wonders, briefly, if he’s made a mistake; but, he reasons, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He barrels on. “I think that the two of you want each other, quite a lot. Now, now, we’re being honest, Eskel just made that lovely speech, so save your protests, both of you. I think you want each other but you don’t know how to have that without the competition.” Jaskier gesticulates widely to emphasize his conclusion. “So compete.”

Eskel’s quiet for a moment, taking a deep breath as he meets Jaskier’s gaze. “Wouldn’t ask that of you,” he says finally. “The pair of you’s got a good thing here. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“Oh, darling.” A surge of affection rushes through him as he takes in the Witcher’s concerned eyes, the hesitant posture, the look of astonishment at the endearment directed towards him. “I don’t think Geralt will love me any less for having loved you,” he says softly, leaning forward and placing a steady hand on Eskel’s forearm.

“We fuck other people,” Geralt adds helpfully.

Jaskier squawks in indignation, and Geralt’s mouth twitches in silent laughter. “Yes, Geralt, thank you for that ever so romantic assessment. So there you have it, Eskel! We fuck other people, no conflict there.”

Eskel’s looking back and forth between them, a small, slow smile breaking through. “It’s a little late for a sparring match,” he says. It’s not much of a protest.

Geralt shrugs casually. “Up for another game of Gwent?”

Golden eyes lock, a challenge. Eskel wets his lip and reaches for his cards.

Geralt gently steers Jaskier back onto the arm of the chair with a quick kiss to his shoulder, reaching to pull the forgotten box of his various decks into his lap. He packs his Nilfgaardians away carefully, muses over the cards, then reaches for the forest green deck.

And Jaskier may be no expert when it comes to the intricacies of Gwent strategy, but he’s watched Geralt play enough to know that Scoia’tael is his most neglected deck, the one he’s least likely to use in tournaments, the one he’s spent the least time building up.

Fuck.

From the way that Eskel’s gaze trains on Geralt’s big hands shuffling the sparse deck, a hungry, wrecked gleam reflecting in his golden eyes, he’s noticed, too.

It doesn’t take long, this Gwent game.

Geralt isn’t playing poorly, not really, he isn’t blatantly throwing the match, but the low-powered deck can’t compete with Eskel’s Northern Kingdoms and its unstoppable siege cards, its seemingly endless supply of spies. Even after Eskel passes the second round in a show of sportsmanship, there’s no real suspense.

Anticipation, on the other hand…

Jaskier drapes himself over Geralt languidly, tucking his chin over his lover’s shoulder to watch the game. “Geralt,” he coos, “it’s looking as though you may lose this one.”

“Hmm.”

“What a shame, I know you must be dreadfully disappointed by the prospect of taking his cock.” He’s staring shamelessly now, eyes running over Eskel’s sinewy arms, wide shoulders, broad chest, muscular thighs. “Gods, I bet he’s proportional, isn’t he. Big all over.” His breath is a warm tickle on Geralt’s ear before he begins lightly kissing the sensitive skin of his neck. “I bet he’s bigger than you, isn’t he, love?”

Geralt looks up from his cards, considering. “Girthier,” he concedes lightly.

“I can only imagine.” He sighs, musing with the tiniest of pouts. “You know, if you’d told me when we arrived at Kaer Morhen that one of us would wind up in bed with the gorgeous Eskel before winter’s end, I never would have dreamed you would be the one with that honor. Actually, I’d have put good coin on it being me.”

Eskel drops a scorch card in surprise that knocks out his own 24-point ballista.

“That counts.” Geralt shoves the card towards Eskel’s discard pile. “And you’d’ve lost your coin, bard. He never would have fucked you.” He shrugs off Jaskier’s offended whine. “Would’ve seen it as betraying me, even if you’d explained.” He’s studying Eskel carefully. “He felt guilty enough already, and all he’s done is look.”

Jaskier follows Geralt’s gaze, taking in the deep flush, the heavy breathing, the slightly abashed expression. “Have you been looking, dear Eskel?”

Eskel wets his scarred lip. “Looking respectfully,” he clarifies with the smallest of grins.

Jaskier laughs, delighted. He’s been uncharacteristically modest in his dress since arriving at Kaer Morhen, adjusting the biting chill of the drafty halls, but between the fire, the inferno of Geralt beneath him, and the strong rush of arousal, he’s plenty warm now. He slips his doublet off casually, dove gray shirt open halfway to his navel. “Look to your heart’s content, darling. Respectfully or otherwise.”

Eskel obeys, eyes raking over the bard’s flushed neck, the dark curls on his chest, the taut trousers doing little to disguise his erection. When he speaks, his voice is husky, grating. “If I win, will you be joining us?”

The breath catches in Jaskier’s throat.

He glances down at Geralt. They’ve always been welcome to take other lovers; it’s only practical, since they sometimes travel apart for months at a time and both have a few long-standing arrangements they’re loath to renounce. But they’ve never welcomed someone else into their bed, explored another lover together. Shared.

Geralt’s staring up at him, eyes questioning, hopeful.

Jaskier flits out of his embrace to situate himself easily in Eskel’s lap. “I thought you’d never ask.” He brushes a dark lock of hair out of the witcher’s eyes, tilts that strong, square jaw toward him with a single clever finger. “May I?” he asks, and when Eskel nods wordlessly he draws him into a soft kiss.

Eskel’s lips are slow and gentle, his kiss courteous, restrained in a way that threatens to break Jaskier’s heart. “Relax,” Jaskier whispers against him, “you’re not the first big scary witcher I’ve encountered.” He plants a teasing peck on the corner of his mouth before pulling away and shifting to take stock of the cards in Eskel’s hand. “So how is it looking? Oh.” He giggles helplessly, glancing across the table at his lover’s somewhat dazed expression. “Oh, Geralt, you are fucked.”

Their matching groans at his word choice are nothing short of intoxicating.

“Finish him off, darling,” Jaskier purrs, a hand drifting down Eskel’s sturdy chest. “Then we can play.”

Jaskier drags Eskel unabashedly into the bedroom, kicking off his boots as he goes in a practiced maneuver that might have otherwise proven disastrous. He tugs off Eskel’s padded jerkin, leaving him in a thin cream-colored shirt that Jaskier balls his fist in, pulling the witcher towards him in a breathless, giggling kiss.

Geralt trails slightly behind them, taking off his boots in silence. Jaskier can feel his eyes on the two of them as they part, not jealous, not upset, but unsure. Never one to shy away from tension in the bedroom, Jaskier reaches a hand toward his lover, beckoning him close, close enough to touch, and then he steps back to watch the moment unfold.

As if by instinct, Eskel moves to the side in an evasion of Geralt’s approach, where a sword would glance off him, had one been swung. Golden eyes lock as they circle automatically. It’s a dance. A witcher’s dance, dangerous and calculated, each move precise, graceful, deadly. It’s the most arousing thing Jaskier’s ever seen in his life.

And then Geralt shoves Eskel.

It’s just a light push to one shoulder, no real weight behind it, but the effect is instantaneous. Eskel pins him to the cold stone wall, the full weight of his body pressed into him, his hands trapping Geralt’s wrists tight. They’re both panting, hard, and when Eskel shoves his leg roughly between Geralt’s thighs, he’s met with Geralt rocking savagely against him.

“Like a bitch in heat, huh, Wolf?” Somehow, the words aren’t demeaning in the warm gravel of Eskel’s voice; instead, they’re fond, appreciative. Reverent.

Geralt bucks against him again, a cut-off, desperate growl from the back of his throat, and Eskel buries his face at the juncture of the neck and shoulder and bites the scarred flesh.

Geralt immediately goes limp and compliant against him, capitulation written into every line of his body. He stays that way as Eskel releases his bite, nipping lightly then nuzzling into the skin.

Jaskier lets out a shuddering breath at the sight of his lover so docile, so malleable. They’ve certainly explored such games before, power dynamics and what have you, and he’s known Geralt to drift into a gentle haze of submission on a handful of occasions when he felt particularly safe, but he’s never seen this immediate, intentional surrender. It’s breathtaking.

Eskel releases Geralt’s wrists, still kissing at his neck as he slides his hands down his sides. “Good,” he murmurs against skin, “being so good for me, Wolf. Don’t worry, gonna take care of you.” He tugs the black shirt from Geralt’s trousers, slips a big hand to stroke the bare skin at the small of his back. “Gonna fuck you so good. That what you want, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Eskel.”

“Tell me.”

“Fuck.” His eyes flutter shut as Eskel’s hand moves to pull him forward by the curve of his arse, grinding their hips together roughly. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Mmm.” Eskel pulls the shirt over Geralt’s head and tosses it aside. “What about your boyfriend? What do you want from him?”

Geralt’s eyes shoot open, casting about frantically for a moment as though disoriented. “Jaskier?”

“I’m here, love,” he says, rushing to his side and pulling him into a soothing kiss. Geralt relaxes again in Eskel’s arms.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Jaskier continues, running his thumb reassuringly against Geralt’s cheekbone. “Do you want us to take you to bed, love? Let us work you over between the two of us, wring out every drop of pleasure we can?”

Eskel still supports Geralt’s weight, but he’s shifting, opening towards Jaskier, creating a space for him. Geralt pulls the bard in, kissing him desperately and tugging off his shirt, and Jaskier clings to them both.

He drinks in the sight of Eskel in the firelight, lips red and parted, eyes hooded beneath dark lashes. He cradles his smooth cheek with a gentle hand. “My, but you are just unreasonably handsome, aren’t you?”

Eskel freezes for a split second before flinching away from the touch, turning his scarred face to the safety of the shadows.

Before Jaskier can react, Geralt places a hand on the back of Eskel’s neck, drawing him in and massaging the flesh lightly. “He’s not mocking you.” His voice is soft and steady. “Or lying.”

After a moment, Eskel meets Geralt’s gaze, holds it silently for a moment before his shoulders relax, a rueful smile twitching on his lips. “Just got shit taste, huh.”

Geralt returns the grin. “He is with me.”

Jaskier splutters with indignation that’s only partially feigned. “Well, excuse you both, I happen to have exquisite taste, thank you very much!” He reaches out, his hand hovering over the scarred skin, a question in his eyes. Eskel takes a breath and turns his face into Jaskier’s touch.

He runs his fingers lightly over the hardened scar tissue, mapping the uneven terrain in caresses. Eskel’s eyes flutter shut. “I can’t speak for the rest of the world,” Jaskier murmurs. “I can’t imagine how cruelly men have treated you. But I do think you’re beautiful, Eskel, truly.” He pauses, glancing at Geralt. His gaze is fixed on the pale fingers and scarred flesh, concern writ large in his golden eyes. Jaskier wonders, not for the first time, how he ever thought his witcher inexpressive. “And I do believe Geralt thinks so, too.”

Geralt startles at the mention, but he leans in, resting his forehead against Eskel’s.

The intimacy of the position strikes Jaskier. Wasn’t like that, Geralt had immediately defended at the slightest implication that there was anything more than the occasional illicit orgasm between them. It’s not the first time he’s seen his dear witcher deny himself affection, connection, especially when it comes from another man, so he can’t help wondering how deep that denial may have run. “Geralt,” he asks softly, “have you and Eskel ever kissed?”

Geralt shakes his head, his eyes shut.

“I think you should.” It’s barely more than a whisper.

A moment of stillness stretches between them all, the two witchers looking at each other wordlessly. Eskel is the first to move. He carefully cradles Geralt’s face, eyes searching before he leans in, capturing his lips gently. It’s slow, hesitant, a meticulous exploration before Geralt moans against him, big hands threading through dark hair and pulling him in harder.

Jaskier moves deftly, slipping behind Eskel and threading his arms around the witcher as he plants reverent kisses down his neck, hands roaming luxuriantly across the hard body. Nimble fingers find the laces of Eskel’s trousers, untying them but making no immediate move to remove them, drawing the roughspun cotton of his shirt from the loosened pants so he can slip beneath to bare skin. He worships every inch of that broad torso with callused fingertips. Eskel is every bit as muscular as Geralt but built differently, thicker and wider and more pliable beneath Jaskier’s curious hands. An appealing layer of fat cushions his hard abdominals like a gambeson; strong, flexing pectorals have the give of flesh beneath his grasp. It’s an altogether delightful body, Jaskier thinks in warm contentment, belonging to an even more delightful man who Jaskier would be delighted to be absolutely railed by.

But that isn’t tonight’s objective; no, not with Geralt panting so beautifully, head thrown back against the stone wall as Eskel sucks a blood red mark on his collarbone. The finesse between them has vanished, replaced by the desperation of a century’s delay. Eskel paws at Geralt’s waist, nearly ripping the buttons from the fabric in his haste to get a hand down the front of the tight black pants, his other hand bracing him on the wall beside Geralt’s head.

Geralt is quick to return the favor, freeing Eskel’s cock from the codpiece, shoving the trousers roughly down his thighs, sinking to his knees.

Jaskier tries in vain to enjoy the sight from over Eskel’s shoulder, but the cream-colored shirt billows loosely enough around his body to veil Geralt. Yanking the offending garment off, Jaskier tucks his chin over the witcher’s shoulder and watches as his lover pumps Eskel’s cock in a pale hand, leaning in to lap greedily at the head before stretching his lips obscenely around the ruddy flesh.

When he speaks, Eskel’s voice is a hoarse wreck. “Isn’t that a sight for sore eyes.” Geralt growls in the back of his throat and takes him further down. “Fuck, Wolf.”

Jaskier snakes a hand down Eskel’s hip to his groin. He circles the base of his cock in a sure grip, grasping the thick shaft and moving in concert with Geralt’s shallow bobbing. Eskel inhales shakily, reaching the hand not buried in white hair back to anchor himself onto Jaskier by the back of the neck, arching into the bard’s embrace.

Jaskier pulls him into a messy kiss. The careful restraint has evaporated into something rough, strong, unleashed. Jaskier loses himself in the kiss, the racing tattoo of his rushing blood making the groan from Eskel something he feels more than hears.

Geralt bats away the bard’s hand jacking Eskel, and when Jaskier glances down he sees Geralt sinking down the thick shaft until his nose is buried in the dark hair at the base.

Eskel rips away from Jaskier’s kiss, breath ragged. “So good at that, shit.” His head falls back on Jaskier’s shoulder, eyes closed. “Used to choke on me when you tried,” he grunts. “Remember? Almost got us caught with your coughing a couple times. But you weren’t ever satisfied unless you tried.”

Jaskier massages at his chest, relishing the little gasp as he rubs a nipple. “He’s had plenty of practice since then. Haven’t you, love? Love swallowing cock, don’t you?” Geralt’s hands grasp Eskel’s hips roughly. “He wants you to fuck his face,” Jaskier says, planting a kiss on Eskel’s temple. “You wouldn’t deny him, would you?”

“Fuck.” Eskel complies, releasing Jaskier to anchor both hands in Geralt’s hair. He pistons forward experimentally, shallow. Geralt tugs at his hips until he’s set a brutal pace, the muscles in his thick body straining as he fucks him with abandon until there’s nothing else, nothing but slapping flesh, labored breathing, and pleased, desperate, muffled moans.

Eskel pulls abruptly back, holding Geralt off him by the hair. “Fuck, Geralt, enough. Don’t wanna come yet.”

“Want you to.” Geralt’s voice is a raw rasp, his eyes red-rimmed. He nuzzles at the juncture of his thigh and groin, sucking at the sensitive flesh between words. “Want you to come fucking my throat. Come again later.”

Eskel pushes him away firmly, discipling his voice into something deep, reproachful, but with a surprising touch of tenderness cutting the sting of his words. “Listen, little cockslut, I said not yet.”

Geralt whimpers, but he withdraws, sitting back on his heels and awaiting further instruction, eyes fixed on the other witcher.

Eskel steps back from both of them, shoving his trousers the rest of the way down and stepping out of them before he looks at Geralt. “Up, Wolf.”

Geralt scrambles to obey.

Eskel pulls him into a kiss, praises spilling out against his lips. “So good,” he says. “Pants off.”

Once Geralt’s naked Eskel pulls him close, hoisting him easily into his arms as strong thighs wrap around Eskel’s waist. Eskel kisses him, holding him effortlessly. It’s a rare thing, Geralt not being far and way the strongest in a room at any given time, and to see him so evenly matched, see him carried about and manhandled as though he weighs nothing at all, is quite an alarming, appealing experience.

“Wanna take you to bed.” Eskel nuzzles against Geralt’s neck, his words barely audible. “Wanna be inside you, Wolf.”

“You did win the game,” Geralt grunts.

Eskel’s brow is furrowed when he pulls back. “Fuck the game, Geralt, wanted this as long as I can remember. It’s not just a game.” He carefully smoothes the messy white locks away from his face. “Wasn’t ever just a game.”

Geralt nods slowly. He holds Eskel’s gaze as he tilts his head, closing the space between them to brush his lips again Eskel’s. “So take me to bed.”

And he does.

Eskel lays Geralt out with an expression of sheer reverence. He crawls between his legs, slotting their bodies together, taking them both in a firm grasp before he leans down to capture Geralt in a sensuous kiss.

Jaskier observes the writhing pair silently as he makes necessary preparations. He rids himself of his trousers and smallclothes. Folds the discarded clothes and sets them neatly on a chair. Retrieves the oil from the chest at the foot of the bed. Stalls.

Because they are beautiful together, their touches familiar yet entirely new. There’s an unmistakable sense of scale between them, a history that Jaskier is loath to disrupt, a tale spanning a century in which Jaskier is barely a footnote.

“Jaskier.”

They’re still entwined, all muscled, scarred limbs curving around each other like one flesh, but they’re both looking at him. Eskel’s face crinkles into a crooked smile. “It’s a big bed, bard. Plenty of room.”

And there is. So much room in Geralt’s outstretched arm, curling immediately around his lover as he slips in bed beside them. In Eskel’s astute gaze as he runs a hand down Jaskier’s back and squeezes his hip reassuringly, pulling him into a nigh unbearably sweet kiss. In the way the three of them move together, exploring, discovering, building a gentle rhythm all their own.

“Have you ever fingered him?” Jaskier asks, his words nearly lost in the velvet-soft skin he’s thoroughly lavishing.

Geralt’s breath catches, though whether it’s at the question or the warm mouth on his balls is anyone’s guess.

“No,” Eskel says, his hand carding through the bard’s hair. “Show me what he likes?”

Jaskier reemerges to kiss them lightly, first Geralt then Eskel. “I’d be delighted.” He sits up on his heels, pulling Geralt with him. “Up, love.” He turns to Eskel as Geralt turns over to settle wordlessly into place. “Hands and knees is best for opening him up. He tends to get overwhelmed otherwise, don’t you, darling?” He kisses Geralt’s scarred shoulder, petting his arms, his back, his sides, nodding with a bright grin when Eskel’s hands join his in their caresses. “You can open him up when he’s lying on his back, but only when he’s absolutely relaxed and he’s already gotten off once. Otherwise he’s self-conscious, can’t lose himself in the sensation.” Geralt is already—perhaps unconsciously—rocking his hips ever so gently back towards him. A wave of warmth spreads through Jaskier as he rubs at the small of his lover’s back. “Eager for us, aren’t you, Geralt?”

A breathless grunt is the only answer.

“It’s all right, love, we’re going to take care of you.” He uncorks the oil, leaning down to nip lightly at the swell of Geralt’s cheek as he pours some into his palm. Cold. He warms it in his hand, rubbing vigorously. Eskel’s eyes track each movement. Silent, the bard holds out his lubricated hand. Eskel hesitates for a second then swipes his fingers through the mess until they’re dripping, coated thoroughly.

“Touch him before you touch him there.” It’s a rush, hearing the professorial tone of his own voice, seeing the witcher scramble to follow his instructions. Using his dry hand, Eskel pets the expanse of skin, running his fingers indulgently through the pale hair on his thighs, his arse. “Good.” Jaskier’s voice resonates deep in his chest, a low, soothing murmur. “Acquaint him with your touch. Let him know where you’re headed. Then when you’re both ready…” He takes Eskel’s wet hand by the wrist and guides it. “Just a finger. Start up here, down, down and past, and then up again. Again. Circle his rim, give him some lovely pressure, get him nice and wet but not in, not yet, not until…” He laughs as Geralt cants his hips back toward them with a desperate moan. “There we are. Now you can press in, just a little—oh, you’re being so good for us, love, taking his finger so well. Thicker than mine, isn’t it? What a treat.”

It’s too much, too arousing and too heady and too intoxicating, seeing hefty sword-callused fingers prodding carefully at the flesh Jaskier had seen stretched around his cock only this morning. He reaches out, an oiled finger lightly stroking the taut rim before slipping in effortlessly alongside Eskel’s.

A keening sound almost like a sob is muffled as Geralt rests his forehead on the bed, a full-body shiver running through him.

Eskel pats at his thigh. “Your boyfriend’s back here trying to kill me, Wolf.” He shoots a look of wonder at Jaskier before he leans forward, kissing the slight dimple at the small of Geralt’s back. “Hadn’t even thought about how good you’d look speared on us both ‘til right now.”

Geralt shoves back against them hard, pants as he fucks himself back on their fingers until Eskel adds another. “Not tonight, though,” he growls. “Tonight that hole is mine.”

“Gods, Eskel.” Jaskier pulls him into a breathless kiss. “He’s perfect, isn’t he?” he murmurs against scarred lips. “The way he can’t help seeking out more. Fuck, but he’s going to look so stunning on your cock. How do you plan to take him? Like this, let him whine and cry and shove himself back on your prick as hard as he can? Or have him ride you, watch him desperately take his pleasure as he stuffs himself full of you? Or…”

“Fuck, Geralt, does he always talk this much?” Eskel’s other hand shoots to the base of his own cock, giving himself a few rough strokes.

“Always,” a muffled rumble confirms. “It’s hot.”

Jaskier beams.

He slips his finger nimbly from Geralt’s stretched hole, drizzling a little more oil where Eskel begins to tease a third before Jaskier reclines on the bed, lying his head on the pillow where Geralt’s buried his face. Gently, he tilts the witcher’s chin toward him, taking in the wrecked breaths, the serene, softened gaze. He runs a warm thumb over Geralt’s lips before following it with a tender kiss.

He runs a hand over the muscled abdomen, down the sharp angles of the juncture of his hips, the pale coarse hair at his groin. Geralt’s softened some in the excitement of penetration, as he’s wont to do. Jaskier cups that lovely, familiar cock, rubs against him with just the pressure he knows his lover needs to coax him gently back towards hardness.

A breathy, high-pitched whimper that barely sounds like it could come from the same throat as Geralt’s usual guttural utterances breaks through the hazy atmosphere. “He’s ready for you,” Jaskier murmurs softly, reaching to squeeze Eskel’s unoccupied hand.

Eskel drapes his body over Geralt’s, covering his back and shoulders with fiery kisses as he rocks against him soothingly, fingers still buried deep as they rut together. He turns his face toward Jaskier, a heady desperation in his eyes. “Can I take him on his back?” he begs. “Don’t want to...to overwhelm him. But…”

Jaskier plants a reassuring kiss on Eskel’s cheek.

Geralt whines piteously as fingers slip from him, but he follows the gentle hands guiding him onto his back.

“Love,” Jaskier whispers, soothing fingers massaging his scalp, “are you with us?”

Geralt takes a breath, as though opening his eyes to meet Jaskier’s takes tremendous energy. He nods.

“You’re doing so well, darling.”

Geralt leans into his hand at the praise, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Stay with me, Geralt. Do you need a break?”

“Need Eskel.”

Eskel, kneeling between his legs, surges forward to capture Geralt in a careful kiss, gripping his shaft as he lines himself up. “Oil?” he pants, and Jaskier slips a wet hand between the two bodies to coat the thick, twitching cock liberally. “I’ve got you, Wolf,” Eskel whispers, sinking slowly into the pulsing tight heat, Jaskier’s oiled fingers lingering, anointing the site of their union.

The electric energy swells, inundating them, sweeping them into its current. The rough, slow grind as the witchers find a rhythm. Meandering callused fingertips dancing across scarred skin. Oil and precome and sweat mingling as they slide together. The earthy, sharp smell of the fireplace meeting musk and heat and desperation. Goosebumps covering warm flesh against luxuriant soft furs.

Geralt comes with a harsh cry from nothing but the movement within him and the insistent rub of Eskel’s abdomen against his cock.

Eskel fucks him through the aftershocks gently, bringing himself to a stuttering halt as Geralt trembles beneath him. He pants against Geralt’s neck. “Fuck,” he swears, kisses messily at the sensitive skin, “so beautiful, Wolf, feel so good under me.”

Geralt lets out a long breath.

“Had enough?” Eskel whispers against him.

Blissed out, relaxed, all loose limbs and satisfaction written in every line of his body, Geralt grins, his eyes suddenly clear, kissing Eskel as he rolls his hips pointedly back onto his cock.

And with this second wind it’s different, Geralt’s haze melting into something far more vocal, more demanding. “More,” and “fuck, Eskel,” and “hard,” and “won’t break me, Eskel, fuck,” and movement and manhandling and Geralt back on his hands and knees, Eskel burying himself hard and fast and too much, it’s got to be too much, Jaskier’s sure of it until “don’t hold back, please, please I can take it.”

A hand reaches out to grab roughly at Jaskier’s hip, dragging him in place before Geralt, his back against the headboard. “Please,” Geralt moans, mouthing frantically at the base of his cock, his drawn-tight balls, “need you too.”

He threads his fingers through sweat-damp white locks as Geralt hungrily sucks him down. The harsh, accelerating thrusts from Eskel rip through Geralt, slamming him further onto Jaskier’s cock and it’s so much, the delicate arch of Geralt’s back, the loud slapping of skin against skin, the strange unifying sensation of the three of them melding into one, the tight fluttering of Geralt’s throat milking the head of his cock, the way Eskel’s whole body seems to convulse, the choked-off howl as he chases his climax, the way he shakes as he collapses forward onto Geralt...

The adoring light in those stunning amber eyes as Geralt looks up at Jaskier through thick lashes, the way his hand sneaks up to hold onto his lover’s as Jaskier’s breath hitches, coming with a cry as Geralt swallows around him.

They topple gracelessly into a breathless tangle of limbs. Geralt groans piteously as Eskel unsheathes himself, leaving the bed swiftly, and Geralt hates feeling empty while he’s still coming down so Jaskier finds himself trailing long fingers to his messy hole, pushing the escaping come back into him, massaging and plugging him gently and running a soothing thumb over the stretched rim as they trade languid, exhausted kisses.

Eskel watches them from the beside with a look that might be wonder. “You two are a handful,” he chuckles softly. He climbs back onto the bed, wiping away drying spend from Geralt’s stomach with a warm, wet cloth that drags down, down between his legs, down to where Jaskier extracts himself one finger at a time, cleaning him with attentive care.

Geralt smiles up at Eskel lazily before pulling him down into a quick, filthy kiss, nipping at his lower lip. “You like us, though.”

“Hmm.” Eskel pulls away enough to grab a cup of water, tilting it to Geralt’s lips, careful not to spill. Then he offers it to the bard, reaching over to pet his hair with unexpected tenderness. “Thank you, Jaskier,” he says. “For sharing him with me tonight.”

“Should be me you’re thanking,” Geralt yawns, shifting around until he’s nestled comfortably on Jaskier’s chest, ear pressed soothingly above his heart. His eyes flutter shut as Jaskier traces aimless patterns on his warm skin. “Arse you were fucking happens to belong to me.”

Eskel snorts. “You sure about that?” He blocks the sleepy, playful swat aimed at him, taking the cup back from Jaskier and setting it carefully on the bedside table. He looks down at Geralt, already halfway to sleep on the bard’s chest, and rolls his eyes fondly. “That didn’t take long.”

“Well, in his defense, you did work him over pretty thoroughly,” Jaskier murmurs. He reaches out, tracing the muscles in Eskel’s scarred upper arm gently.

He leans into the touch, looking down for a moment. When he meets Jaskier’s gaze, his eyes are unspeakably bright. “Thank you. For tonight.” There’s a reverent rasp in his voice. “And for being good to him.”

Geralt’s breathing has evened out as Eskel slips out of bed, rifling through the discarded clothes.

“Bloody witchers, gods save me,” Jaskier sighs, flopping a dramatic hand to his forehead. “Geralt always used to try to slink off into the night after sex, too.” He catches Eskel’s gaze and extends a long hand towards him. “It’s a big bed, darling.”

They stare at each other in silence for a moment, something like awe blooming on Eskel’s exquisite, kind face as he nods, climbing back into the bed and molding his body carefully against Geralt’s back, a square hand finding Jaskier’s and squeezing.

And though it’s the dead of winter, Jaskier doubts Kaer Morhen’s ever felt quite so warm. He drifts into a peaceful sleep.

#the witcher fic #geraskel #geraskel fic #geralt x jaskier x eskel #geraskier #eskralt #sexy gwent #WHEW okay hope you enjoy!#my fic #asks

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

The White Wolf (2/3)

Previous - Shifter!verse

Geraskier - 2.1k

TW: blood, animal death

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Geralt gnawed at the venison shank that he gripped between his paws. Geralt had stalked a doe with ease through the forest, combining his tracker skills as a witcher and his new wolf senses. Taking the prey down had been harder. He was used to fighting with swords not his teeth and he’d tripped over his paws more than once trying to pounce but eventually dinner had been his. He tried not to think about the raw meat he was consuming but the more human part of his mind still recoiled as he tore the carcass to shreds with his teeth. He was hungry though. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast and even then it hadn’t been much.

His ears twitched as he heard a twig break nearby. He stared into the darkness of the trees, and sure enough the sound of Jaskier’s endless chatter floated through the air and Geralt could smell his honied chamomile scent from where he was resting. Geralt huffed and went back to his dinner. Jaskier would see to Roach, there was fuck all Geralt could do to help.

Jaskier burst into camp wearing one of his many doublets, judging by the shapes of the fabric it was one of his dark blue ones but for Geralt, colour was but a distant memory. Unfortunately, his hearing had only gotten better. Jaskier was humming away as he always did, until the moment he saw Geralt. Jaskier squinted at him in the darkness.

“Is that… blood?”

Geralt barked and looked over at the rest of the carcass, hoping Jask could see it in the darkness. To this surprise, Jaskier just started laughing.

“Oh wow, Geralt. It didn’t take you long to get the hang of this did it?”

Geralt let out a low growl.

“Oi, none of that. It’s a compliment!” Jaskier knelt in front of him and buried his face in Geralt’s fur.

Geralt could feel Jaskier’s fingers grip into his fur. It felt… not unpleasant, similar to how it felt when Jaskier brushed his hair. He could see why Jaskier enjoyed it so much. Geralt bumped his head against Jaskier’s and nipped at his ear.

“I missed you too, dear heart.” Jaskier kissed his nose and then began to strip off his clothes.

Geralt gave a short quick bark and tilted his head.

“I’m hungry,” Jaskier whined. “but I am not eating that as a human, my stomach wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

Geralt snorted. Jaskier’s explanation made sense. He’d never really thought about it before. Jaskier tended to just steal from Geralt’s plate when he was in animal form, although Geralt couldn’t help but remember how Jaskier had gobbled down an entire deer in one bite when he’d shifted into a dragon. He certainly wouldn’t manage that as a human, Jaskier barely finished his own plate of food when he was human.

Once Jaskier clothes were tucked into Roach’s bags and the mare was safely tied to a nearby tree, he shifted. Geralt couldn’t see the dark coppery colour of his fur but he could picture it clearly in his mind along with Jaskier’s never-changing blue eyes.

Jaskier barked happily as he landed on four paws and he pounced at Geralt. Geralt snarled as he was pushed over onto his back and Jaskier bit at his ears. Geralt tried to bat Jaskier away but the shifter was more practiced with his wolf form and Geralt was still struggling to get control of all four paws. He huffed as Jaskier’s collapsed on top of him with a howl.

Geralt howled back before he could stop himself then snapped his jaw shut with an audible clack of teeth. He snarled at Jaskier who had rolled off him onto his back and was yapping away in a sort of strange laugh. Geralt snorted and went back to his dinner, turning his back on the other wolf. Jaskier whined and trotted over to him but Geralt kept turning away. If Jaskier wanted to laugh at his misery then he could find his own deer to eat. Jaskier let another long pitiful whine and nudged Geralt’s head with his muzzle.

When Geralt looked over at him Jaskier was doing his best wolfy version of a pout, his eyes were wide and he looked miserable. Even in this form Geralt couldn’t say no to his mate. He nodded towards the rest of the meat. Jaskier barked and wagged his tail as he dug into his dinner. Geralt watched Jaskier for a few minutes, feeling oddly satisfied that he had managed to provide for them both. It had been his hunt, his kill.

The wolf instincts were different. He was still him, and he still felt human enough but there was a calmness to being a wolf that he hadn’t anticipated. It didn’t matter about coin, or lodgings, or monsters. He could just… exist. They ate in silence until they’d both had their fill, the rest of the carcass would be taken by scavengers once they’d abandoned it but it was now completely dark and the day had been long. Geralt curled up on the ground with a heavy sigh. Jaskier flopped down next to him, using his back at a pillow and wrapping his tail around Geralt’s front paws. Geralt nudged Jaskier’s back legs with his nose and let out a soft whine.

Before long they were both snoring soundly in the forest.

___________

When Jaskier woke up he was still in wolf form. It was rare for him not to change forms in his sleep. More often than not we went to bed in one form and woke up in another but Geralt’s presence as a wolf seemed to have stabilised his own instincts to shift. He’d learnt more about his shifting in the last few hours than he had in his lifetime. Even the books in Vesemir’s vast library had yielded nothing but Jaskier now knew deep down that shifters were meant to live in packs. He’d guessed that whatever form the pack leader took would dictate the forms of the others.

Part of him wondered if he’d ever met any shifters and just hadn’t managed to recognise them and he was sure no one would ever suspect a lone shifter. He couldn’t help the howl that tore from him at the break of dawn. He missed Geralt’s family. He missed his pack. They’d met up over winter but it was now nearly summer and he was so alone. Only he wasn’t alone. Geralt joined in with his howl. Jaskier cut himself off and stared at Geralt. Geralt slowly stopped his own howl and then tilted his head at Jaskier. Jaskier barked and bounded over to Geralt, licking and mouthing at his snout.

Geralt let out a low growl and bit Jaskier on the ear. He rolled over and wagged his tail before finally shifting back to human. He gazed up at Geralt his a dopey fond smile and laughed as the wolf licked his face. He buried his fingers in Geralt’s fur. “Now as adorable as you are, my darling. Shall we try and find another mage?”

Geralt nodded and butted their heads together.

“Any ideas on where to start, dear witcher?”

Geralt nodded again.

“Excellent! Let me get dressed and see to Roach, then we’ll get going, alright love?”

Geralt’s ear flicked and Jaskier took that as a yes.

___________

The Temple of Melitele had only been a few days away from the Sorcerers crumbling tower. Jaskier spent his nights as a wolf beside Geralt and his days as a human so he could keep an eye of Roach. Roach was impressively not fazed in the slightest by Geralt’s new canine look. She even seemed to recognise that the wolf was her witcher. Jaskier supposed travelling with a shifter for two years had helped. Jaskier hadn’t been sure where they were travelling until Geralt had insistently tugged at his hand, pulling him through the gates of the temple.

Nenneke had been fiercely protective of her students when Jaskier nervously approached the temple building with a fucking ginormous wolf by his side but Geralt had just laid down on the ground and wagged his tail as Nenneke stared down at him.

“Geralt of Rivia?” Nenneke asked the wolf with her hands crossed in front of her chest.

Geralt nodded.

“And you are?” Nenneke turned to Jaskier.

“Jaskier. I’m Geralt’s friend,” Geralt let out a low growl. “and partner.” He amended and scratched Geralt behind the ears. “We’re looking for a mage or sorcerer or someone who can help with umm… well.” He gestured at Geralt.

“There are no mages here, but I might know someone who will be able to help you with your predicament. How long has he been like this?”

Jaskier frowned as he counted back the days. “Four days?” He glanced at Geralt who gave a quick nod. “Four days.”

“And he still seems like himself?”

Jaskier’s fingers gently tugged at Geralt’s fur as he thought. “Yeah, I think so. He still grumbles when I talk too much, except I know he’s not really mad because he wags his tail!”

Geralt gave a low growl but sure enough his tail was still beating steadily against the ground as Jaskier scratched behind his ears.

“See? It’s brilliant. He absolutely hates it of course. Oh his diet has obviously become a little more raw meat than your average witcher but that’s to be expected,”

“But he’s not becoming feral.”

Jaskier shook his head. “Nah. He’s actually quite cuddly.”

Geralt nipped at his fingers.

“Oi! Bad Geralt.”

Nenneke looked unimpressed. “Geralt, can you understand me?”

Geralt barked and nodded his head.

“Remarkable. Unfortunately you’ll have to stay outside. I’ll have a riot on my hands otherwise. Jaskier, you may sleep inside for your stay here.”

Jaskier frowned. “Ah, umm. Well actually, it’s a generous offer, venerable Mother, but you see,” He glanced at Geralt.

Nenneke raised an eyebrow at him. “You would rather stay with him in the cold than spend the night in a warm bed?”

Jaskier scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly at the priestess. “That just about sums it up, yeah.”

Nenneke laughed and threw them a knowing smile. “Have you tried kissing him? True love’s kiss has been known to cure all manner of curses.”

Jaskier felt himself blush but he brushed it off, putting his hands on his hips and flashing her a toothy smile. “Dearest Nenneke, I have a degree in the seven liberal arts from the esteemed university in Oxenfurt, I am a bard, poet and troubadour of famed renowned, and, I might add, an unparalleled lover. I am well aware of the power of true love’s kiss.”

“So have you tried it?”

Jaskier scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ve tried it. Wait… what sort of kisses are we talking about here?”

Geralt let out a long drawn out whine and covered his snout with his paws.

“Exactly, I love him but I’m not about to start making out with a wolf not even…” he cut himself off, Geralt might trust Nenneke but he was still reluctant to reveal his true nature to anyone outside of his pack, not unless he was forced to. “not even Geralt is that cute.”

“I will contact the local sorceress,” Nenneke said sharply, and Jaskier got the feeling that she didn’t really like him very much. “Make yourself at home in the gardens. Geralt?”

Geralt’s ears pricked up.

“Don’t scare my girls.”

Geralt nodded.

“And you, bard. Keep your hands to yourself. I know your sort.”

Jaskier gaped and put his hands on his hips. The accusation wasn’t entirely unfounded, at Oxenfurt he had loved freely and abundantly but he was with Geralt! Even if his boyfriend was currently a wolf. He wasn’t about to go cheating on his partner. He bit his cheek to stop a scathing insult flying out at the priestess. He may not believe in the gods but he knew it was foolish to be purposely disrespectful. Instead he put on his most charming smile and bowed. “As you wish.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and he winked. Geralt nudged his hand with his snout and Jaskier dug his fingers into the thick fur on Geralt’s neck. He glanced down at the wolf and tilted his head. “Shall we go find some shelter? Then I’ll see what I can do about finding us some food.”

Geralt wagged his tail and nuzzled against Jaskier’s leg.

“Thank you, Nenneke. We appreciate your assistance.”

“I’ll leave some food in the courtyard, try and stay out of sight.”

Jaskier nodded. “We will. Thank you.”

_____

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