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maithefluffychicken · 1 year

Text

True Colors

Rated T, Geraskier, DnD, getting together, coming out, fluffy fluff stuff. Ao3 link. Enjoy!

"Ok, your turn, bard," Geralt asks him, smirking. "What are you gonna do?"

Jaskier smirks back at him, very smugly, looking at Geralt and leaning in just so.

"I'm gonna roll for Vicious Mockery, let the bard save the day again, huh?" He grins, rolling the dice between his fingers… Long and slender fingers that have their nails polished with the rainbow’s colours and that are not distracting Geralt at all.

The whole group gasps when the dice stop rolling and…

"No fucking way!" Lambert yells, hands flying to his head.

"Holy shit YES!" Exclaims Eskel at the same time.

"Fucking bard and his stupid good luck with the dices!" Laughs Aiden.

The dice is showing them a natural 20. Perfect score. When Geralt talks again over the laughs and yelling of their friends, his voice is full of emotion and he talks faster than ever.

"Dandelion the Bard looks at the Elf King dead in the face and he starts singing solemnly, casting Vicious Mockery while strumming his lute. Dandelion?”

Jaskier improvises a rhyme and a silly tune for the delight of his friends.

Geralt can’t hide his own smile, his best friend is gorgeous like this, just having fun while playing DnD with a bunch of misfits; Jaskier could spend his time with someone much better than them, any girl of their class would be delighted to be in a date with Jaskier, and yet…

“He thrust every elf/

Far back on the shelf/

High up on the mountain/

From whence it came/”

Jaskier sings with a deep, rich voice, and Geralt wants to be annoyed by his antics… But the game is still on.

Lambert and Eskel snort and Aiden just shakes his head, smiling and leaning over Lambert.

“The Elf King looks at you and draws his sword, but your Vicious Mockery…”

“And my amazing Nat20.”

“And your impressive Nat20, yes… Are too strong for him and he falls on his knees, dropping his sword… Aiden, roll for acrobatics! While the bard was singing and melting the King’s brain, you’ve been surrounded by elves: three warriors and two archers…”

—

To eat the greasiest pizza after their DnD session is a sacred tradition… A sacred tradition that his brothers are now ignoring in favour of, well, get laid, Geralt supposes.

Eskel left them in a hurry, arguing that he had a date with Triss, his long-live crush, and that he wanted to impress her at the Arcade, and soon after, Lambert and Aiden left together, no explanations given, Aiden had just smiled at them shyly and waved his hand in goodbye.

Leaving Geralt alone with, well, with Jaskier.

That is not a problem itself, Jaskier decided long ago that Geralt was his best friend and somehow, that he was Geralt’s best friend too. At first, Geralt was baffled by the whole thing: a stray kid, adopted along with two other boys by a single father, leaving almost in the middle of nowhere, they all were misfits, outcasts… and the brightest, loudest, happiest kid Geralt ever known just decided that they should be best friends.

That was ten years ago, give or take. Geralt can’t remember the exact moment when he thought about Jaskier as his best friend, after trying once and again to scare the younger boy away.

And now… Well, now Geralt was feeling rather odd around Jaskier. Not angry at him, nor upset. But… suddenly shy, everytime he found Jaskier looking at him, or worse, blushing whenever Jaskier casually touched him in the arm or whatever.

Being alone with Jaskier is both thrilling and terrifying, and Geralt feels tense and hot all over his body watching the boy licking his fingers clean after finishing a portion of pizza. His lips glisten under the dim light of the shitty pizza joint they both love.

“Geralt, dear, you’re staring, do I have something…?” Jaskier says, and licks his lips. Geralt follows hungrily the path of his pink tongue lapping those full, pouty lips.

“N-no, you’re ok, I was just…” Geralt stutters.

I was just wondering how it would be if I kissed you, his not-at-all-helpful mind supplies. Jaskier is still looking at him, smiling fondly, and Geralt feels petrified by those bright, ice blue eyes.

“This pizza is not that good to render you speechless, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs. “Or are you thinking about my Nat20 again?”

Geralt snorts at last, looking away to avoid Jaskier’s natural spells.

“Huh, Jaskier, that was just luck,” Geralt teases.

“Knowing how to play and they call it luck,” Jaskier replies, shrugging and smiling. “It was, as you said yourself, impressive.”

Geralt shrugs too.

“Well, ok, it was, are you happy?”

“Very.” Jaskier’s smile widens and Geralt… Geralt wants to make Jaskier very happy again, he just doesn’t know how to. So he changes the topic.

“Hey, what’s with your fingernails?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier eyes widen in fear and he looks at his hands like he hadn’t realised that they were there the whole time.

“Oh fuck, I just forgot about them after…”

“Hm?”

“I-I need to go! I’m sorry!”

Jaskier stands up and takes his backpack and rushes to leave, almost bumping into a young couple in his run.

“What… Jaskier! Wait!”

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

Jaskier had forgotten completely about his stupid rainbow nail polish after the gig; it had been the first year that he was able to perform at the Pride and he was so freaking happy to be able to play and sing for an audience like him.

He was still floating about it two days after, and he arrived to Geralt’s place to play DnD without realising that his nails were still proudly showing the rainbow flag.

And now he was running away from his best friend, scratch that, running away from the love of his short life, and feeling the tears running down his flushed cheeks.

He was still inside the closet for his dearest friend. Of the Morhen boys, Eskel was the first one to know, basically because he found Jaskier crying his heart out when Geralt started dating Yennefer, a girl from his class. So Jaskier confessed his love for Eskel’s brother then, and Eskel held him tight until he stopped crying.

That happened two years ago, when Jaskier was just fifteen and was still discovering his own body and feelings. And boy, he discovered how much a broken heart hurts.

Then, not long ago, was Jaskier who stepped in to find Lambert and his very dear friend Aiden making out in the Morhen’s green-house. Lambert and Aiden were petrified in fear and Jaskier had to confess himself and to promise them that he would never get them out and that he would help the younger boys to hide their romance until they were ready.

That was how Jaskier found in the younger of the Morhen brothers a fierce protector and a dear friend.

But Geralt…

Jaskier couldn’t get out in front of Geralt. He’s his best friend, more than that, Geralt is more important to Jaskier than anything else, Jaskier doesn’t want to lose him, and…

And it’s not like Geralt will reject him because of his sexual orientation, no, Geralt has never showed a hint of hate towards the queer community; no, Jaskier is afraid that if Geralt knows about Jaskier being, well, gay or bi or pan or whatever, Jaskier is still discovering that… Jaskier is afraid that Geralt will know about his feelings for him.

Jaskier is barely able to hide his love for Geralt now, shielded by Geralt’s wrong assumption about Jaskier being straight. The moment Geralt realises Jaskier is attracted to men too… Geralt will know. And Geralt will politely say to him that his love is unrequited. And then Geralt will stop being his friend just as he’s stopped being friends with Yennefer after their break up, and Fringilla before Yennefer, and Keira before Fringilla… Geralt doesn’t believe in being friends with those that want him.

Jaskier can’t have that.

Jaskier would not let that happen.

“Jaskier!”

Geralt is running after him, and fuck, he’s fast.

“Geralt, please, I need to go!” Jaskier yells back at him, people avoiding them and watching them in confusion.

“Ok but.. I’ll call you later to check that you’re safe at home…” Geralt says loudly, and when Jaskier looks over his shoulder to look at him, Geralt is not running anymore, just looking at him with the saddest expression ever.

Jaskier stops running too.

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, his backpack is heavy and tugs at his shoulders, and his lungs - used to sing for hours - hurts with the need to scream and cry.

He’s so tired.

He looks at his coloured nails again, the rainbow flag he’s so proud of seems like it’s making fun at him, now. But no, he’s the one making fun of the flag, he’s the one hurting himself.

June is the month to be proud of who we are. June is the month to be honest.

If Geralt doesn’t want to be his friend because he has feelings for him, well, then maybe Geralt is not his best friend after all.

It’s going to hurt, Jaskier knows it, but this constant lie is hurting him too.

Jaskier turns back to where Geralt is standing, his pained expression doing things to Jaskier’s heart. The extremely blond boy is just looking at him with concern and hope and by the way Geralt is clenching his fists, Jaskier knows Geralt wants to reach him.

“Geralt…” He whispers, his voice breaking. A lump in his throat is threatening him with more crying.

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier,” Geralt says instead. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m so sorry, I never wanted to upset you.”

Geralt takes a step closer to Jaskier, and good lord, why is everything so difficult? How can they be in this situation now? They argue a lot of times, for a lot of things, but Jaskier has never felt this scared before, nor has seen his friend this sad because of him, apparently.

“It’s not… It’s not your fault… It’s… Can we please go back to your house?”

Geralt drives them back home, in silence.

He adores silence, it’s so difficult to find a moment of peace in his house, with Lambert being always a mouthy bastard and arguing about everything, and Eskel’s constant chattering and teasing and… And with Jaskier.

Loud, noisy Jaskier, always talking about fucking everything, always singing or humming for fuck’s sake. Jaskier, who is unable to be silent for more than five minutes, the boy even talks during his sleep, always with so much to say to the world.

Now, Jaskier is not talking, nor humming. He’s just sitting by his side during the short ride to Geralt’s house. And Geralt hates the silence.

His best friend has his eyes red and puffy, silent tears running down his cheeks, and Geralt is doing his best to just don’t reach and wipe them away gently and to promise Jaskier that everything is going to be fine, even if Geralt can’t understand what the fuck is happening.

Once at home again, Geralt leads Jaskier to his room and rushes to prepare tea for both of them. When in distress, prepare tea. Drink it, and then carry on. That’s what Vesemir says.

“Thank you,” says Jaskier with a soft, broken voice. It’s so wrong, Jaskier should be always happy, singing and chirping and…

“It’s a rainbow flag,” he adds, stopping Geralt’s thoughts.

“”What?”

“My fingernails. I painted them like this for… the Pride,” Jaskier explains, but he sounds off, scared even. Scared of what, Geralt doesn’t know.

“Hm,” he answers, with a lack of something better to say.

“I… I played there, with Priss and Essi, for… for the Pride concerts, we applied and they… wanted us there…”

“That’s great!” Geralt exclaims and startles Jaskier, who clings to his cup tightly. “You three have been doing great with your band, of course they wanted you there! Why didn’t you tell us? We could have gone!”

Somehow, to say that, to… to offer Jaskier his support, makes Jaskier sobs harder, and Geralt wishes to know what to do.

"What? Jaskier, what…?"

"Geralt, it was the Pride!" Jaskier whines.

"Yeah, you just said that."

"Do you know what it is… Do you know what the rainbow flag means?" Jaskier asks, looking at him with panic in his eyes.

Geralt looks at him, at his pouty lips now wet, and back again at his glistening, weeping blue eyes.

"Hm," Geralt needs a moment to think about something that is not kissing Jaskier. It's not easy, the need to comfort his friend and to reassure him is too strong. But he manages.

Rainbow flag. Yeah, that rings a bell, he has seen that flag, somewhere. He thinks Aiden, Lambert's best friend, has some stickers and such with it, and other flags with different colours.

Oh.

"Yes, yes of course I know what it means, Jaskier," Geralt answers, feeling delirious. I just didn't want to hope.

"And?" Jaskier asks, expectantly. "Geralt, it was not a simple gig, we weren't there just because, but because Priss and Essi and I, we are… I am…"

Geralt kneels in front of him, and lets his hands rest on Jaskier's lap.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Geralt asks softly. "Were you afraid of me…? Did you think that I would… that I wouldn't want to be your friend anymore?"

Jaskier nods slowly, more tears spilling from his eyes.

"But not for the reason you think," Jaskier cries. "I know you would accept me as I am, but…"

Geralt's heart is breaking, watching his friend crying, sobbing hopelessly and thinking that Geralt could ever stop being his friend, for any reason at all… That's just absurd, because Geralt… he… He's in love with Jaskier and…

And Jaskier doesn't know it.

"Jaskier… Julek… it's ok, I'm here," Geralt promises, taking Jaskier's tea off his hands and hugging him, as tight as he can. Jaskier clings to him, sobbing.

"You'll hate me!" Jaskier cries, grabbing his shirt, and Geralt just… just can't.

"Never," Geralt reassures him.

"You'll hate me because I love you!" Jaskier yells. "And you push away all of your ex girlfriends, so why would I be different?"

Geralt freezes then, still holding Jaskier.

Jaskier loves him.

Flirty, flighty, social butterfly Jaskier, the boy who decided to be Geralt's best friend.

Bright, loud, noisy, wonderful Jaskier.

"It's… quite different," Geralt says at last and Jaskier snorts.

"It is, Jaskier, because… Because I…" Geralt takes a deep breath. "I love you too."

The last part is just a whisper, reverent, contained. It's a truth that he's been avoiding for years.

Jaskier squirms until he can lock his blue eyes with Geralt's own.

"You mean… as a friend?" He asks.

Geralt smiles at him fondly and shakes his head slowly before leaning in, his eyes flicking from Jaskier's eyes to his lips.

Jaskier's breath is warm against Geralt's lips, his skin is wet and a little clammy after all the crying and sobbing.

"Geralt…" Jaskier whispers, breathless.

"May I?"

Jaskier closes his eyes slowly, leaning in until he can find Geralt in the middle.

Their first kiss is chaste and shy and, well, not how Geralt would have imagined, not with Jaskier crying in fear and rushed confessions, but it's perfect, because it is Jaskier who is kissing him back.

Geralt reaches for Jaskier's hands and threads their fingers together.

"You had no idea what the rainbow or the Pride mean, right?" Jaskier asks, smiling wide, with his forehead resting on Geralt's shoulder.

"I thought you simply liked the…, what's it called? The colourful aesthetic." Geralt answers, shrugging, making Jaskier chuckle.

They stay like this for a while, Geralt studying Jaskier's painted nails and caressing his hands softly.

"You could paint mine," Geralt offers.

"Geralt…"

"Maybe for the Pride next year?" Geralt asks, hopeful. "I.. I could go there and see your gig…"

Jaskier kisses him again, less chaste, more hungrily, and Geralt can't suppress the growl that rises from the deep of his chest.

"I'd love that, my dearest."

“Ok, ok, Eskel, your turn…”

Jaskier can’t help but to look at Geralt in awe while he leads the party through the Dungeon; Geralt always seems happy and free during their DnD sessions, but lately he seems… resplandescent.

Geralt glances at him and smiles knowingly while Eskel keeps talking, and Jaskier’s heart does a somersault under his golden gaze. Gods, Geralt is going to be the death of him, and now that Jaskier knows his taste, his hunger, the caresses of his hands…

“Hey, bard, wake up!” Lambert exclaims. Aiden is basically sitting on his lap, laughing softly. “Do your bard wiles!”

“C’mon, give us another Nat20, bard!” Eskel cheers.

Jaskier chuckles.

He takes the dice and rolls it over the table.

By his side, Geralt smiles at him, wide and unguarded, his hands at either side of the Master's screen, and every one of his fingernails are painted with the colours of the rainbow, to match Jaskier’s own hands.

“Ok, dice, gimme a Nat20!”

#geraskier #dnd #geralt of rivia #jaskier #fluffy fluff #happy pride 🌈

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maithefluffychicken · 2 years

Text

True Colors

Geralt knows he's very much into his best friend Jaskier, but he never acts about it, it's better not to tempt Destiny.

Everyone know that Jaskier is gay and in love with Geralt, except Geralt himself, because Jaskier can't stand the idea of Geralt realising he's in love with him and pushing him away.

But when Jaskier forgets to remove the nail polish after the Pride and Geralt asks innocently about it, he panics and decides to confess and to face the consequences.

The coming out fic nobody asked for, but @saretton inspired <3 You can read it on Ao3 too. Happy Pride month! <3

________________

"Ok, your turn, bard," Geralt asks him, smirking. "What are you gonna do?"

Jaskier smirks back at him, very smuggly, looking at Geralt and leaning in just so.

The whole group gasps when the dice stop rolling and…

"No fucking way!" Lambert yells, hands flying to his head.

"Holy shit YES!" Exclaims Eskel at the same time.

"Fucking bard and his stupid good luck with the dices!" Laughs Aiden.

The dice is showing them a natural 20. Perfect score. When Geralt talks again over the laughs and yelling of their friends, his voice is full of emotion and he talks faster than ever.

"Dandelion the Bard looks at the Elf King dead in the face and he starts singing solemnly, casting Vicious Mockery while strumming his lute, Jaskier?”

Jaskier improvises a rhyme and a silly tune for the delight of his friends.

“He thrust every elf/

Far back on the shelf/

High up on the mountain/

From whence it came/”

Jaskier sings with a deep, rich voice, and Geralt wants to be annoyed by his antics… But the game is still on.

Lambert and Eskel snort and Aiden just shakes his head, smiling and leaning over Lambert.

“The Elf King looks at you and draws his sword, but your Vicious Mockery…”

“And my amazing Nat20.”

—

To eat the greasiest pizza after their DnD session is a sacred tradition… A sacred tradition that his brothers are now ignoring in favour of, well, get laid, Geralt supposes.

Leaving Geralt alone with, well, with Jaskier.

That was ten years ago, give or take. Geralt can’t remember the exact moment when he thought about Jaskier as his best friend, after trying once and again to scare the younger boy away.

“Geralt, dear, you’re staring, do I have something…?” Jaskier says, and licks his lips. Geralt follows hungrily the path of his pink tongue lapping those full, pouty lips.

“N-no, you’re ok, I was just…” Geralt stutters.

I was just wondering how it would be if I kissed you, his not-at-all-helpful mind supplies. Jaskier is still looking at him, smiling fondly, and Geralt feels petrified by those bright, ice blue eyes.

“This pizza is not that good to render you speechless, Geralt,” Jaskier laughs. “Or are you thinking about my Nat20 again?”

Geralt snorts at last, looking away to avoid Jaskier’s natural spells.

“Huh, Jaskier, that was just luck,” Geralt teases.

“Knowing how to play and they call it luck,” Jaskier replies, shrugging and smiling. “It was, as you said yourself, impressive.”

Geralt shrugs too.

“Well, ok, it was, are you happy?”

“Very.” Jaskier’s smile widens and Geralt… Geralt wants to make Jaskier very happy again, he just doesn’t know how to. So he changes the topic.

“Hey, what’s with your fingernails?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier eyes widen in fear and he looks at his hands like he hadn’t realised that they were there the whole time.

“Oh fuck, I just forgot about them after…”

“Hm?”

“I-I need to go! I’m sorry!”

Jaskier stands up and takes his backpack and rushes to leave, almost bumping into a young couple in his run.

“What… Jaskier! Wait!”

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.

He was still floating about it two days after, and he arrived to Geralt’s place to play DnD without realising that his nails were still proudly showing the rainbow flag.

And now he was running away from his best friend, scratch that, running away from the love of his short life, and feeling the tears running down his flushed cheeks.

That happened two years ago, when Jaskier was just fifteen and was still discovering his own body and feelings. And boy, he discovered how much a broken heart hurts.

That was how Jaskier found in the younger of the Morhen brothers a fierce protector and a dear friend.

But Geralt…

Jaskier couldn’t get out in front of Geralt. He’s his best friend, more than that, Geralt is more important to Jaskier than anything else, Jaskier doesn’t want to lose him, and…

Jaskier can’t have that.

Jaskier would not let that happen.

“Jaskier!”

Geralt is running after him, and fuck, he’s fast.

“Geralt, please, I need to go!” Jaskier yells back at him, people avoiding them and watching them in confusion.

Jaskier stops running too.

He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, his backpack is heavy and tugs at his shoulders, and his lungs - used to sing for hours - hurts with the need to scream and cry.

He’s so tired.

He looks at his coloured nails again, the rainbow flag he’s so proud of seems like it’s making fun at him, now. But no, he’s the one making fun of the flag, he’s the one hurting himself.

June is the month to be proud of who we are. June is the month to be honest.

If Geralt doesn’t want to be his friend because he has feelings for him, well, then maybe Geralt is not his best friend after all.

It’s going to hurt, Jaskier knows it, but this constant lie is hurting him too.

“Geralt…” He whispers, his voice breaking. A lump in his throat is threatening him with more crying.

“I’m so sorry, Jaskier,” Geralt says instead. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m so sorry, I never wanted to upset you.”

“It’s not… It’s not your fault… It’s… Can we please go back to your house?”

Geralt drives them back home, in silence.

Now, Jaskier is not talking, nor humming. He’s just sitting by his side during the short ride to Geralt’s house. And Geralt hates the silence.

Once at home again, Geralt leads Jaskier to his room and rushes to prepare tea for both of them. When in distress, prepare tea. Drink it, and then carry on. That’s what Vesemir says.

“Thank you,” says Jaskier with a soft, broken voice. It’s so wrong, Jaskier should be always happy, singing and chirping and…

“It’s a rainbow flag,” he adds, stopping Geralt’s thoughts.

“”What?”

“My fingernails. I painted them like this for… the Pride,” Jaskier explains, but he sounds off, scared even. Scared of what, Geralt doesn’t know.

“Hm,” he answers, with a lack of something better to say.

“I… I played there, with Priss and Essi, for… for the Pride concerts, we applied and they… wanted us there…”

Somehow, to say that, to… to offer Jaskier his support, makes Jaskier sobs harder, and Geralt wishes to know what to do.

"What? Jaskier, what…?"

"Geralt, it was the Pride!" Jaskier whines.

"Yeah, you just said that."

"Do you know what it is… Do you know what the rainbow flag means?" Jaskier asks, looking at him with panic in his eyes.

Geralt looks at him, at his pouty lips now wet, and back again at his glistening, weeping blue eyes.

"Hm," Geralt needs a moment to think about something that is not kissing Jaskier. It's not easy, the need to comfort his friend and to reassure him is too strong. But he manages.

Rainbow flag. Yeah, that rings a bell, he has seen that flag, somewhere. He thinks Aiden, Lambert's best friend, has some stickers and such with it, and other flags with different colours.

Oh.

"Yes, yes of course I know what it means, Jaskier," Geralt answers, feeling delirious. I just didn't want to hope.

"And?" Jaskier asks, expectantly. "Geralt, it was not a simple gig, we weren't there just because, but because Priss and Essi and I, we are… I am…"

Geralt kneels in front of him, and lets his hands rest on Jaskier's lap.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Geralt asks softly. "Were you afraid of me…? Did you think that I would… that I wouldn't want to be your friend anymore?"

Jaskier nods slowly, more tears spilling from his eyes.

"But not for the reason you think," Jaskier cries. "I know you would accept me as I am, but…"

And Jaskier doesn't know it.

"Jaskier… Julek… it's ok, I'm here," Geralt promises, taking Jaskier's tea off his hands and hugging him, as tight as he can. Jaskier clings to him, sobbing.

"You'll hate me!" Jaskier cries, grabbing his shirt, and Geralt just… just can't.

"Never," Geralt reassures him.

"You'll hate me because I love you!" Jaskier yells. "And you push away all of your ex girlfriends, so why would I be different?"

Geralt freezes then, still holding Jaskier.

Jaskier loves him.

Flirty, flighty, social butterfly Jaskier, the boy who decided to be Geralt's best friend.

Bright, loud, noisy, wonderful Jaskier.

"It's… quite different," Geralt says at last and Jaskier snorts.

"It is, Jaskier, because… Because I…" Geralt takes a deep breath. "I love you too."

The last part is just a whisper, reverent, contained. It's a truth that he's been avoiding for years.

Jaskier squirms until he can lock his blue eyes with Geralt's own.

"You mean… as a friend?" He asks.

Geralt smiles at him fondly and shakes his head slowly before leaning in, his eyes flicking from Jaskier's eyes to his lips.

Jaskier's breath is warm against Geralt's lips, his skin is wet and a little clammy after all the crying and sobbing.

"Geralt…" Jaskier whispers, breathless.

"May I?"

Jaskier closes his eyes slowly, leaning in until he can find Geralt in the middle.

Geralt reaches for Jaskier's hands and threads their fingers together.

"You had no idea what the rainbow or the Pride mean, right?" Jaskier asks, smiling wide, with his forehead resting on Geralt's shoulder.

"I thought you simply liked the…, what's it called? The colourful aesthetic." Geralt answers, shrugging, making Jaskier chuckle.

They stay like this for a while, Geralt studying Jaskier's painted nails and caressing his hands softly.

"You could paint mine," Geralt offers.

"Geralt…"

"Maybe for the Pride next year?" Geralt asks, hopeful. "I.. I could go there and see your gig…"

Jaskier kisses him again, less chaste, more hungrily, and Geralt can't suppress the growl that rises from the deep of his chest.

"I'd love that, my dearest."

“Ok, ok, Eskel, your turn…”

Jaskier can’t help but to look at Geralt in awe while he leads the party through the Dungeon; Geralt always seems happy and free during their DnD sessions, but lately he seems… resplandescent.

“Hey, bard, wake up!” Lambert exclaims. Aiden is basically sitting on his lap, laughing softly. “Do your bard wiles!”

“C’mon, give us another Nat20, bard!” Eskel cheers.

Jaskier chuckles.

He takes the dice and rolls it over the table.

“Ok, dice, gimme a Nat20!”

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #they're in love #coming out #pride mont #happy pride 🌈

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