#the witcher con
I am a one-trick-pony!! :D
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Joey Batey nation
Here is the video of his part from the Witcher Con
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Joey Batey in
The Witcher Con (2021)
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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.’
‘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.
‘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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[#GeekedWeek new post on Twitter]
ANNNDDD THIS IS SOME GOOD NEWS.
We will have a #Witcher's con on July 9 with probably more contest and I HOPE SO MUCH it will be free for us to watch it 🔥🔥🔥🥺🥺🥺😍😍😍
We will see some of our favorite actors? Some trailers? SOME DATE? We will know!
Stay tuned for news 🤙🤙🤙
Also it's out a little "trailer" with Cirilla in #Season2, you can watch it HERE.
Credits: GEEKED WEEK
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@flootzavut told me about how Joey's shirt for the stream looked like it should have a tiddy window and-
All I could think was
FREE THE MAN TIDDIES
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For the love of Chuck !! This is me feeling exhausted from all the smutty thoughts I now have!! Damn you Henry and your lovely voice . It seems my voice kink has been (re) activated , I knew Witcher Con would be trouble 😈🤣! Voice kink smutty goodness is currently running ragged in my little brain 🧠!
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That man XDDD
1. Geralt knows how to handle children lol I love that he refers to Ciri as a child. Also I remember Freya was saying that to her Geralt is more like a big brother figure, not the father. And Henry said the same. Warm, direct and wise. That is a secret success to effective parenting *cackles*
2. The witchers will become cool uncles to his Ciri. I cackled so hard at his: they are monsters who live in the mountains. But actually, they’re soft, loving and caring. Excuse me sir, do you wish us dead? T_T XDDDD
3. There’ll be no bathing scenes, but cheer up *winks* Henry, YOU PROMISED XDDD
4. Vesemir is really his soft spot. He said it will be special bond. And again the same words: soft, gentle, loving, caring. Omg omg.
I have this warm feeling that Geralt, Ciri and Vesemir have white hair lol Do not ask XD Papa wolf and his favourite pup T_T Oh, sorry, grandpa T_T
5. Henry telling amazing stories about his dog: yeah, he died *cackles hard* That man...
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“Nope. Not talking to you.” The bard turns around so fast his hair flies into his mouth. His fingers fidget on the lute strap, and to be fair, he doesn’t know what to say to Geralt anyway. “Stay here if you want, but don’t even try.”
Jaskier runs upstairs, heedless of the whole tavern’s eyes on him.
Shutting the door, Jaskier can hear footsteps chasing behind him. The creak of floorboards indicates the witcher’s presence in the hallway. The tension is palpable as he waits for Geralt to knock again.
Jaskier slides down against the door and lets out a sigh. He ponders his next steps all while wondering about Geralt’s new look, which he didn’t have time to react to earlier. Well, he’s one to talk, Jaskier thinks as he tucks away the hair blocking his face again.
The footsteps return.
And to his surprise, a piece of paper is slipped under the door.
Jaskier puts down his lute and picks up the paper. On it is a simple drawing of two stick figures, one with a sword on its back, the other has long hair parted in the middle. At least, that’s what he thinks they are. The hair is really just two curved lines.
Under the two figures are two words written carefully: best friends.
Jaskier has half a mind to burn the paper in the hearth but thinks better of it immediately. After soo long, it’s almost too much. The reality of it is hitting him at full force. As much as Jaskeir would like to deny it, he’s indeed spent the past two years not knowing if Geralt survived the war or not, and as much as the sight of the witcher brought him anger, it also unfurled the worry that has been making him sick to the stomach.
Jaskier stands up and opens the door.
Geralt has that look on his face again. That lost puppy look.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
The bard steps aside.
“Come in so we can talk.”
The dejection on Geralt’s face morphs into something akin to hope, and then, unbridled relief. The faintest sign of a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Oh dear, Jaskier has truly seen everything.
The witcher makes the move to enter when Jaskeir halts him with a hand, right over the...crease in the middle of the chest plate. Sweet Melitele.
“You know what, take off...whatever this is,” he deadpans, gesturing to the armor. “And then we can talk.”
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New Jaskier pic release! 😍
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Witcher costume designers really said glow up for Yen and Ciri and hoe up for Geralt and Jaskier and I think that was really brave and sexy of them, congrats on impeccable choices
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h e l l o ???
I never thought I'd say that, but the hat actually makes it. Like. I am looking.
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Joey Batey in some highlights from
The Witcher Con (2021)
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after jaskier finds out valdo marx has added a feather to his cap, too
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#TheWitcher's Official Accounts on Twitter and Instagram new posts.
So yeah, as you can read you can send questions to the cast/showrunners and they might answers in the future! Write to them with the hashtag #WitcherCon on Twitter or directly on their stories on Instagram 🌼🌼🌼
Maybe we will be lucky enough to have interesting news and answers in the Con 👀👀❤️
Follow the links to send the questions:
THE WITCHER OFFICIAL'S INSTAGRAM
THE WITCHER OFFICIAL'S TWITTER
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I love all of the prompts, what about body swap? I'm somehow integrued with the concept of a kinky(?) version of 'forbidden love' because that screams just FEELS for me. And I'd honestly go a bit nuts for fuck or die, or magic made them do it, but being slightly anticlimactic with the combination of fuckbuddies? :D
Thank you! I too could not think of a kinky way to write forbidden love, so I went with bodyswap. I realized I've never written it. I hope you enjoy!
18+ under the cut, Warnings: slight dub con (due to bodyswap) but explicit consent after, 2500 words
“I don’t see why we bothered paying for two rooms. Do we really need privacy at this point?” Jaskier asks, adjusting the swords strapped to his back. He knows that objectively they should feel heavy, but they’re nearly weightless right now.
“I thought we should have space while we sort this out. I also want to contact Triss and get her opinion on this,” Geralt tells him before knocking his lute case against the wall of the narrow hallway. Jaskier cringes but doesn’t call him out on it. They’re both out of sorts enough as it is.
The renegade mage Geralt was contracted to take down seemed like an easy mark. He was hidden in a system of caves, but Geralt had done recon the night before and thought it would be easy enough that Jaskier could hover in the background. What trouble could an elderly mage do? The man was clearly past his prime, and it was obvious that his experiments on the village’s children failed to grant him any of his youth back.
Of course it all went to hell, because most things do.
One minute Jaskier is actually listening and keeping his distance, and the next he’s got a front seat to the sword piercing through the dying mage’s heart. He had screamed and dropped the weapon, but thankfully the man was already dead. When he turned around, his own body was gawking at him from across the cave. He looked down at his body and realized he was wearing Geralt’s armor and covered in mage blood.
So yeah, their day kind of sucks.
“I thought you said you didn’t have any ideas?” Jaskier asks, stopping at the door to his rented room. Geralt takes the swords from him and hands over his lute case, no need to look normal now that they’re in private.
“I did a lot of thinking on the way back,” Geralt smirks, and it’s weird as hell to see that flat expression on his own face, “It’s alarming how much a man can think without anyone singing and chattering up a storm.
“Oh! Going to be an ass about it, are we?” Jaskier shakes a finger in his face before adding, “I tried to sing, but you growled so hard I thought you’d damage my lovely vocal chords. So yes, perhaps some privacy and time to think is for the best. I shall see you in the morning, dear witcher of mine. Bard. Whatever.” He narrows his eyes at his friend before rushing into his room. And honestly? He was silent during their travels because he was busy holding off a full mental breakdown, so some time to himself might be good.
His heart feels too slow, and his whole body seems far too large right now. Taking a deep breath, he leans against the door and closes his eyes, using the moment to ground himself. When his thoughts aren’t racing anymore, he sighs and looks around the room, startling at the sight of the still-steaming bathtub they’d ordered. In his hurry to get upstairs, he forgot he - well Geralt - is covered in dirt and dried blood. He’s seen Geralt nude hundreds of times, and this shouldn’t be any different.
He’s not very convincing, even to himself, but he needs to get clean and vows to ignore the body he’s currently occupying as much as possible. Thank the gods there isn’t a mirror in here. With newfound resolve, Jaskier starts the long process of stripping out of the armor. It’s slow-going, but at least he’s helped Geralt with it before, so he manages to get everything off and in a neat pile against the wall.
The water is still nice and hot when Jaskier finally sinks down into the tub, and he lets out a long sigh as his muscles relax. Leaning back against the side, he wipes a hand over his face before startling when it’s larger than normal. He stares down at the thick fingers, flexing them as he thinks of all the reasons why he should just quickly wash up and not pay any extra attention to the body he’s currently stuck in.
Only Jaskier’s never been good at boundaries, and this might be the only time he ever gets to see it up close like this.
He grabs a rag and starts scrubbing dried blood from Geralt’s arms, reveling in the way his muscles feel beneath his hands. He holds in a moan, biting his lip to stifle it, and drags the cloth over Geralt’s solid chest. Whimpering, he realizes his nipples are so much more sensitive than normal and his hands move on their own, coming up to pinch and twist the quickly hardening buds. It feels like they're connected directly to his cock, and he groans and drops the rag before tugging harder, keening as he feels his prick harden.
In the back of his mind, he knows he shouldn’t be doing it, but it’s far too tempting. Besides, if he’s supposed to be taking good care of Geralt’s body, he shouldn’t leave him wanting. He trails his calloused fingers up his chest, strokes his neck, and shoves two fingers inside his mouth. Sucking on them, he bites back another whimper and lets his other hand dip beneath the surface of the water.
“Fuck,” he gasps, hips bucking as he wraps a hand around himself. It feels so different than normal, his hands and cock are so large right now, and Jaskier knows this is going to be over far too soon. He swallows down a moan, still laving at the fingers pressed against his tongue, and starts to pump his thick prick.
His fingers barely cover Geralt’s cock, and his mind goes fuzzy as he imagines how amazing it would feel inside of him. He’s been flirting with Geralt for years, though, and sadly that is just not in the cards for them. So he’ll let himself have this moment, greedy little thing that he is. He grunts around the fingers and lets his hips move as he starts fucking into his fist. He pushes away from the side of the tub, curling up on himself as he chases his orgasm.
Jaskier slides the drool covered fingers out of his mouth and rakes his nails down his chest. He groans softly, chewing on his lip as he pinches a nipple again. Sparks shoot down his spine and he feels his balls pull tight before he comes, sobbing as he makes a mess of the bathwater. He works himself through it, tugging at his nipple as he humps his tightly clenched fist.
All of a sudden, his vision goes black and when he can see again, he’s sprawled out on a bed, completely naked with three fingers shoved up his own ass. In his shock and confusion, he accidentally curls his fingers and cries out at the feeling, his whole body tense and trembling already. His cock is leaking on his stomach, and it’s obvious Geralt has been having his own fun.
He doesn’t even have time to pull his fingers out before the door flies open to reveal a frantic looking Geralt, clutching a wet sheet around his waist. He slams the door behind him and looks at Jaskier before spitting out, “I wasn’t! I mean, Triss suggested it!”
“Triss told you to finger me?” Jaskier asks, snorting as he reluctantly slips his fingers from his ass and wipes them on the bedspread. He doesn’t bother covering up at this point, because obviously Geralt’s seen enough already and he’s not one to be shy about his body.
“She,” Geralt scrubs a hand over his face and lets out a low growl before continuing, “she said it sounded like sex magic. Thought maybe an orgasm would switch us back. But something else must have happened.”
“I uh...I think she was right,” Jaskier mutters, cheeks heating up as he curls his fingers together and gestures at Geralt, not quite able to admit to what he’d been doing in the bath.
“What? Oh! Oh, you...you had the same idea?” Geralt asks, his face scrunching up so adorably that Jaskier can’t help pushing this. Apparently tonight’s the night he finally finds out if this is a possibility. Geralt, bless him, is still struggling to work out how Jaskier knew sex would break the spell, confusion written across his features.
“Actually, I have to admit that my motives were a bit more...base than yours,” Jaskier drawls out. He runs his fingertips over his collarbone, grinning when Geralt’s gaze falls heavy on his hand. He trails his fingers down his chest, brushing through his chest hair before settling his palm on his still-hard cock. “You see, I thought that was the only chance I’d ever have to get my hands on you. I couldn’t help myself.”
“You never,” Geralt murmurs, but Jaskier cuts him off.
“It’s become quite clear that you’re as stupidly oblivious as you are attractive,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve been flirting with you for years, but you never reacted before. But I’m sure you could have just jerked me off, didn’t have to play around with my body the way you did. My ass feels slick and you’ve done such a lovely job of opening me up. I’d hate for that to go to waste. So if you feel the same way - which again I’m seriously hoping you do and I didn’t just fuck up a lifelong friendship - I rather think it’s time for you to get over here and fuck me.”
Geralt’s on the bed before Jaskier can even blink.
Jaskier always imagined their first kiss would be something soft and sweet, but he’s not complaining as Geralt crushes their mouths together. He settles between Jaskier’s thighs and lets his hands wander, calloused fingers trailing down Jaskier’s chest and sides as their mouths slant together. He licks past Geralt’s lips, swallowing low moans as they deepen the kiss. He nips at Geralt’s lower lip, biting the swollen flesh he’d chewed so roughly to conceal his moans while still in Geralt’s body.
Geralt pulls back and grins down at him, eyes bright as he traces Jaskier’s mouth with the pad of his thumb. “Sorry I was so slow to catch on,” he mutters, flushing when Jaskier giggles again.
“You didn’t catch on so much as I threw myself at you, but let’s not worry about how we got here. Let’s just enjoy ourselves now that we’re here. Now let me feel your fingers, for they’re surely better than my own,” Jaskier orders, grinning when Geralt gasps and reaches for the oil on the bedside table.
He coats his fingers before sitting back on his heels and looking at Jaskier with so much reverence in his soft expression that Jaskier almost can’t handle it. Instead he leans up and pulls him into a gentle kiss, their tongues lazily sliding together as Geralt teases him, running circles around his rim.
Geralt doesn’t bother going slow, just works two deliciously thick fingers inside of him, and Jaskier arches into it and keens as he’s stretched. Geralt must have had time to play earlier, because he’s already so open and Jaskier's body eagerly takes a third finger. He groans into Geralt’s mouth and clings to him as he curls his fingers, making him cry out as sparks shoot down his spine.
“I’m ready, Darling. Please,” Jaskier whines as he sinks back down against the pillows. Geralt nods and reaches for the oil again, slicking himself up as Jaskier lets his hands roam over the expanse of his broad chest. He’s touched him so much over the years, but never like this, never like it’s just for him. Instead of patching him up, he gets to smooth his hands over sweat-slicked skin and feel the heat of him beneath his palms.
He’s already addicted to it, knows he’ll never be able to go without now that he has permission.
Only Geralt seems to be on the same page, because he’s nearly shaking as he lines up and slowly - ever so slowly - presses inside of him. They’re both breathing heavily by the time Geralt bottoms out, and Jaskier doesn’t think he’s ever felt this incredibly full. But it’s the way Geralt is looking down at him - like he cares for him - that has Jaskier trembling.
“Move,” Jaskier breathes out before dragging him into another kiss. Geralt takes orders well and starts fucking him in earnest, and each roll of his hips feels better than the last. Geralt grips his thigh tightly and angles him so that he’s pounding into him just right, and Jaskier can’t think anymore. He knows he’s babbling - nonsense about love and wanting - but he can’t help what pours out of him when Geralt is making him feel this good.
Jaskier braces one hand against the headboard as Geralt plows into him, the other tightly gripping his forearm. He’s got to be bruising Geralt, but he doesn’t slow down, just keeps slamming in and out of him, each rough slide pushing Jaskier closer to the edge. His prick is leaking and neglected, but he can’t even imagine moving at this point, just clings to Geralt as he’s pounded into the mattress.
And then Geralt’s rhythm falters, his hips stuttering, and he brings a hand between their bodies and starts pumping Jaskier in time with his thrusts. He rubs his thumb over the messy head, and that’s all it takes. Jaskier cries out as he comes, back arching as he coats both their stomachs with his spend.
Geralt follows quickly, thrusting a few more times before hissing and spilling inside of Jaskier. He whines as he’s filled, and each burst of hot seed feels like a mark, like a claim made on him. Geralt pulls out as he starts to soften, and Jaskier clenches his ass without thinking, desperate to make this last just a little bit longer.
“Shh,” Geralt whispers as he slips out and rolls them to the side, pulling Jaskier against his chest. “I got you. Not letting you go now.”
“No?” Jaskier asks, his chest tight at the thought of this being brushed off as a one time thing.
“Not unless you want me to,” Geralt says softly before pressing a kiss against Jaskier’s forehead. He sighs and moves closer, curling up against Geralt’s side.
“I’d rather you kept me,” Jaskier admits, and Geralt just hums in agreement. They’re a complete mess right now, covered in come and oil, and Jaskier knows he’s going to be mad in the morning, but he can’t make himself move. He’s comfortable and wrapped up in the solid warmth of Geralt’s body. He lets his eyes fall shut and throws an arm around Geralt’s chest. They can figure out the rest come morning.
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TRICK: Things are not what they seem for Geraskier
Contains: Light season 2 spoilers, prisoner!Jask, hidden identities, dub-con (because of the hidden identities thing)
“What?” says Jaskier, clinging to the flippancy, keeping his voice light. “I made new friends, Geralt.” He moves past him—he doesn’t push, he’s sure not to push. “Jealous.”
He stalks ahead, even though he doesn’t know where they’re going, and Geralt follows. After a moment, they fall into step. It almost feels like it always did; like it did before everything fell apart on that cursed mountain top. Almost.
Geralt leads him out of the building and into the street beyond. They don’t see another person; the Nilfgaardian soldiers have vanished. Geralt must have seen them off; lured them out or killed them.
“Where are we going?”
He follows Geralt down the street, through an alleyway, across a courtyard. He’s heading towards the outskirts of the city, keeping to side streets and shadows. Finally, they approach a house; an unobtrusive building built into the outer wall. It's sparsely furnished but well-lit with candles and a fire burning in the grate. The warmth fills Jaskier up; he’s gotten used to being cold all the time.
He takes the room in—a few chairs, a dusty-looking table, a chest to one corner—then turns around. Geralt is watching him carefully.
“So,” Jaskier says. “What did you need me fo—”
And then Geralt is kissing him, grabbing him, pressing him against the wall. His lips are sure and rough and desperate and Jaskier gasps into the kiss, opening his mouth beneath Geralt’s, pushing back, taking him in. Gods— he’s wanted this for— for too long, for so long, and the weeks trapped and beaten and damned he was thinking about it, even though it hurt, even though he knew it would never happen—
He stutters out Geralt’s name, and the witcher pulls back, watching him. “For that,” he murmurs.
Fuck. Geralt is looking at him like he might devour him. He looks good; his skin pale and scarred but clean, his hair pulled back, his armour shining and fresh, the studs glittering in the low light.
Jaskier wants more. He wants it all, but— but doubt clouds his mind, despite the evidence staring him in the face. “What about what you said? The last time we saw each other?”
Geralt hums, tilts his head. “I was wrong.”
“You were wrong?”
“I didn’t mean it. I should have told you.”
“Told me what?”
Geralt kisses him again. “That I love you,” he says. Another kiss. “That I love you back.”
Jaskier’s heart squeezes. He’s flying—he’s floating—he’s dreaming. “Geralt…”
“I shouldn’t have said those things,” Geralt continues, pressing kisses along Jaskier’s jaw. “When we parted, in that town— I’m sorry.”
Jaskier stills. “In… where?”
“The town. Please, Jask—” The nickname makes Jaskier’s stomach flip. It makes him feel sick. “I should have turned around. I should have come back for you.”
There’s ice within Jaskier’s veins. He tries to pull back, but Geralt has him pressed against the wall, his arms to either side of his face, pushing his body against him.
“Jaskier,” Geralt peers at him. He looks concerned. “Are you all right?”
Jaskier nods, not trusting himself to speak.
“What happened after we parted?” Geralt says, “I— I’ve missed you, Jaskier. Tell me what happened after I left.”
Jaskier swallows. His heart is thundering in his chest; Geralt would be able to hear it, and know that he’s terrified. Know that he’s about to lie.
“After you left me in Vergen…” He watches Geralt’s expression carefully. It doesn’t change. “I travelled South. I went home…”
Jaskier talks. Geralt watches, taking it in. The wall feels rough and hard beneath him, splintering the back of his hands.
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“Hi, Witcher fans. WitcherCon begins tomorrow! Where will you be watching from?”
Visit WitcherCon.com for more info!
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I've seen gifs of "no", but the bit that made me cackle was that frankly unsettlingly long pause before the no, so I was compelled to gif it.
I did slow it down ever so slightly because it made it even funnier but like 99% of that ridiculous pause is just Joey being Joey.
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