#HE ACTUALLY CALLED HIM JASK | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

write-ur-wrongs · 5 months

Text

Stayaway

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

*********

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

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

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

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

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

"No! I miss you!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I do, do I?"

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

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

"Fair enough... oh thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

No!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's -"

"Pathetic? I know."

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #geralt x reader #the witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher series #the witcher x reader #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #muna #song fic #one shot #angst #jaskier fanfic #dandelion

157 notes · View notes

the-hidden-pages · 7 months

Text

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

Thigh riding | Sex pollen | Forced orgasm

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

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

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

Geralt had warned you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, what of it?”

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

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

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

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

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

And you were very aware of Jaskier sitting beside you.

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Jask…”

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

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

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

Jaskier right beside you.

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

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

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

You already don’t want clothes in the way.

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

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

The wine. Only the wine.

It has to be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods is he hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had just fucked Jaskier.

You were still sitting on his cock.

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

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

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

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

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

#fawktober2023 #kinktober2023 #x reader #x reader smut #jaskier #jaskier x reader

182 notes · View notes

samstree · 1 year

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is it good?”

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

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

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

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

☆

For some reason, Jaskier keeps buying sweets for himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geralt blinks, confused. “For who?”

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

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

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

☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s something Geralt should have seen long ago.

Jaskier, he realizes, is a sweet tooth.

Has been this whole time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

Luckily, Geralt loves sweet things.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #fluff #established relationship #my spirit is hardened and yet my fic is soft #it's a problem really

977 notes · View notes

coff-beans · 10 months

Text

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

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

#lmao #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my boysss #i love them so muuuuuch #the witcher season 3 #the witcher season three #IT'S FINALLY HERE #the witcher spoilers #geraskier #jeradovid #radovid

188 notes · View notes

yellowspiralbound · 10 months

Text

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

The Hansa's Dynamic

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

Emhyr as a Character

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

Milva's Pregnancy & Related Scenes

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

Characterizing Nilfgaard as a Nation

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

Jaskier & Radovid...

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

Mistle & the Rats

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

Geralt's Disability

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

#the witcher #the witcher books #the witcher netflix #twn critical #books vs show #the hansa #milva barring #maria barring #regis #cahir #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #emiel regis #jaskier vs dandelion #jaskier #dandelion #geralt of rivia #cirilla fiona elen riannon #the witcher s3 #spiral's thoughts

82 notes · View notes

freetheworms · 2 years

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geralt is very, very wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s about to ask when Geralt finally starts speaking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #gerlion #the witcher fanfiction #gracie writes #geraskier headcanon #what else do i tag #i really did not mean to write this much but apprently im passionate about the randomest AU i could think of #it literally came to me while i was laying in bed one night and wouldnt let go #also i forgot to add in ciri but idk how that would work with the whole #‘truck only has two seats and is also a horrible place to raise a child’ thing #sorry ciri... maybe you'll make it into the actual fic someday #anyway i'm obsessed with stupid idiots falling in love in every universe

600 notes · View notes

evilwickedme · 1 year

Note

Geraskier 👀👀👀👀👀

Ok so basically this is about these tags:

And I have sooo many geraskier thoughts like am I over my Witcher phase? Yes. Did the brainworms LEAVE? Fucking no they did not they just borrowed deeper and went to sleep but occasionally they wiggle and then this comes out

Anyway basically you can read my many, many geraskier fics for the actual smut portion of this but have you seen the women that geralt is attracted to in canon. He wants to be told what to do you KNOW he wants to be told what to do and he wants to be really good for his partner. Geralt being called good boy is a major factor in my extreme enjoyment of several otherwise mediocre fics I read in 2020

People fucking love to write geraskier with geralt being this big brute who's in control and Jaskier is this wilting lily who does whatever he's told or at best is a bratty sub and I just like. No. Did we even watch the same show? (I only read the first book and didn't vibe with it and my computer can't run the games don't @ me anyway) like Jaskier is sooooooo fucking bossy, he just happened to have become best friends with a guy who's entire thing is to be solid and reliable and not get bossed around but that's like, his professional thing, his worksona if you will. I know deep in my heart that Geralt melts in the bedroom

We also must acknowledge that while the wardrobe department did an amazing job making Jaskier SEEM small in comparison to geralt actually joey batey is fuckin huge. I'm just. Season 2 when he took that impromptu bath in the little lake or whatever you wanna call it?? Y'all saw. He's beefy. He's got it. Is he as strong as geralt? No. If geralt didn't want to move he wouldn't. But he LIKES when jask manhandles him, likes when jask positions him, tells him to stay right there, ties him up and has his wicked way with him. I mean PLEASE like it's sooo obvious

In an ot3 scenario this is true also. Obviously we're talking geraskiefer where yen just does the fucking most to geralt - she definitely pushes boundaries, the little we know of their sex life sounds like it's just sort of fun, you know? Stuffed unicorns etc - and I like to think of yen and jask teaming up to low-key torture geralt but then they reward him so it's all good. Or, and I didn't write anything for this ship but I read so fucking much of it, gentle top!eskel with geraskier is also fucking amazing. We're obviously not talking about what they did to my boy in the show, we're talking game eskel who I've seen many clips of and love

But yeah basically geralt deserves to get taken care of and told he's pretty and a good boy and just. I have a lot of feelings on how that works for him and jask. And yeah that's it you can read my bdsm fic for them if you like fucked up relationships and pre-s2 geraskier

#geraskier #the witcher #gail speaks #shay #random-fandork #ask

63 notes · View notes

comfyswitcherblanketfort · 2 years

Text

You’re Home

we need a little levity, yeah? dont judge me its excessively self indulgent

CW: geraskier, modern au, roommates, pre relationship, domestic fluff, geralt doesn’t realize jask is home

________________

Jaskier had a blissful morning off work. He turned his alarm off the night before, changed his sheets, and even remembered to set the blinds how he liked them before going to bed so he would wake up to a soft sunny glow instead of blinding direct sunlight. His lie-in would be peaceful and comfortable come hell or high water.

Only in the morning, he woke in confusion, reaching out to slap at an alarm he thought was going off but was totally silent. As he blinked awake and ran his hands through his messy hair, he realized Geralt was playing music. Loud music. His roommate wasn’t usually a morning person, let alone a loud person in general, but then again Jaskier usually got his music playing first. Looking over at his clock once again, Jaskier realized it wasn’t all that early in the morning anymore.

He shrugged and made to scroll through his phone a bit before he gave in to the urge to pee and actually got up. After a few Green Day songs Scotty Doesn’t Know came on and Jaskier smirked. Of course, Geralt would be a grungy emo child. About halfway through the song, Jaskier thought he heard Geralt calling for him, but upon putting his phone down and tuning in, it was Geralt singing along. In the five or so months they’d lived together and years of knowing each other, Jaskier had never heard Geralt sing. He thought Geralt was one of those weirdos who just never sang.

Seizing the opportunity, Jaskier stealthily climbed out of bed and pulled his sweats on before poking his head out of his room. The song changed to Pressure by Paramore and Geralt’s voice continued crooning along if a key or octave lower than Miss Williams. He had a lovely voice, a little gravely like his speaking voice, but still clear and strong. Jaskier found himself grinning as he tiptoed down the hallway toward the kitchen/living area.

It sounded like Geralt was making breakfast during his concert, lost enough in his music that he didn’t notice Jaskier leaning against the archway watching him dance as he whisked eggs. American Idiot came on next and Geralt definitely spilled some eggs on the counter as he jumped and flailed his arms around yelling along. Jaskier’s heart almost hurt it was so cute, he wanted to kiss Geralt on a normal day, but the cute aggression may actually get him in trouble this time. I Just Wanna Live by Good Charlotte was next and Jaskier couldn’t take it anymore. Geralt dancing around their kitchen like a club in 2004 was just too much for his heart to take, let alone how much his cheeks hurt from smiling.

Instead of saying anything, Jaskier just calmly walked into the room and sat at their little breakfast bar, resting his chin on his hands and waiting patiently for Geralt to notice him. He watched him with the stupidest smitten grin on his face for at least two more songs, doing his best not to giggle or give himself away now that he was in clear view.

Geralt finally turned away from the stove in the middle of The Kill by Thirty Seconds to Mars and froze like a deer in the headlights. His eyes nearly bulged out of his skull and the plate full of a massive omelet almost fell right out of his hands.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Jaskier mused, entirely unwilling and incapable of wiping the smitten smile off his face, still just staring back at Geralt.

Blinking and slowly setting the plate down on their counter, Geralt finally found some words, “You’re home.”

Jaskier nodded, “Mind pouring me a cup of coffee? Since you’re right there?”

Squinting but doing as he was asked, Geralt poured him a cup of coffee and even added his favorite creamer without prompting before setting it in front of him, “We don't need to talk about this… do we?”

“Talk about what?” Jaskier pauses just long enough to see Geralt relax before he grinned and muttered, “You’re adorable and you sound nice,” into his coffee.

Geralt’s nose scrunched up as he cut into his omelet and muttered, “Not adorable…”

“Oh, I beg to differ! That was extremely cute!” Jaskier laughed as Geralt folded his arms on the counter and bent down to hide his face in his arms, “I mean it!”

“Stoooop Jask,” Geral groaned, not able to hide the little laugh as hard as he tried.

“Absolutely not. That was cute and I will never tell you when I have a surprise day off again,” Jaskier insisted, reaching across the counter to steal a bite of his omelet as he spoke.

Still talking into his arms, Geralt’s muffled voice sounded downright miserable, “How long were you there?”

“Since Pressure? American Idiot? A long time.”

“You’re evil.”

“And you’re a fantastic cook. Can I have this if you’re just going to be very cutely embarrassed?” Jaskier reached for Geralt’s plate as he asked, not even caring if Geralt responded and hell-bent on stealing his food regardless.

“No,” Geralt snatched the plate out of his reach before he could grab it, earning him Jaskier’s full-power puppy eyes, “I’ll make you your own. This one has tomatoes in it anyway.”

Jaskier made a mental note to sob over a bottle of wine to Yen about how absolutely fucked he was, but he smiled and let himself enjoy it anyway. Geralt even started humming quietly as he cooked another omelet. No other lover would do for Jaskier, regardless of whether or not he ever told Geralt how he felt.

#geraskier #geraskier modern au #the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier fic #the witcher modern au #geraskier roommates

156 notes · View notes

julek · 2 years

Text

happy birthday, @samstree <3 here's a snippet from the Mortuary AU just for you!

“Okay, okay, gather ‘round, people, It’s time for the birthday boy—”

“He’s a grown-ass man, Eskel.”

“I will not be calling him the birthday man, Lambert, what the hell is wrong with you?” Eskel dismisses his brother’s unhelpful comment with a hand gesture, motioning for everyone to sit on the floor. “It’s time for the birthday boy to make his wishes and blow out the candles.”

“And for us all to finally eat,” Lambert quips.

Jaskier shakes his head fondly as all of his guests arrange their limbs to fit inside a tight circle around the coffee table, the surface of which has been cleared of stray glasses and tiny colorful bonnets to make room for the cake Yen and Ciri had so lovingly presented to him as their gift. They’re sitting opposite him, both wearing matching pink overalls and getting their cameras ready to snap what will be, without a doubt, the most unflattering pictures of himself he’ll ever see.

He can’t wait.

Next to him, Lambert has made himself at home on Aiden’s lap, and is arguing with Eskel about the proper way to slice a birthday cake.

“No, because I saw this TikTok—”

Eskel frowns. “We’ve been over this, Lam, TikTok does not count as a valuable source in this house.”

“Shut up!” Aiden has to grip Lambert’s hips so he doesn’t fall off with how wildly he’s gesturing, wiggling a finger in Eskel’s face. “You know what— we’re gonna use the wine glass method, just because you said that. We’re not cutting the cake with an actual knife.”

“Of course we’re cutting the cake with an actual knife,” says Geralt, emerging from the kitchen, balancing said truly gigantic cake on a perilously small tray. “We’re not doing whatever new life hack you saw on the TikTok.”

Jaskier and Ciri share an eyeroll at Geralt’s terrible case of being a dinosaur, but the cake looks absolutely delicious, so Geralt is spared the bullying as he sets the tray on the coffee table, right in front of the birthday boy.

They all croon out a lovely (and slightly off-tune) version of Happy Birthday as Geralt lights the candles one by one, sitting down beside Jaskier when he’s done, and when Jaskier turns to look at him, his face is washed golden and beautiful and his smile is toothy and he so terribly wants to kiss him, but it would be rude to do so when he’s being serenaded by everyone he loves, so he smiles instead, singing along.

“Make a wish, Jask,” Geralt says when the song is over, and Jaskier does, blowing out the candles one by one, just as they’d been lit. Everyone around him breaks into applause, and Jaskier’s grin is so big it hurts his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he says to everyone, his eyes a little wet.

“Did you make a good wish?” Ciri asks, curious.

“I did,” he replies. “Can’t tell you what it is, though, otherwise it won’t come true.”

Ciri nods solemnly — she knows birthday wishes are no joking matter. Before Lambert can get to the wine glasses scattered on the floor, Yen takes a knife seemingly out of nowhere and starts cutting the cake into generous slices, setting them onto the mismatched set of porcelain plates Geralt had broken out just for the occasion. Jaskier helps handing them out, baptizing every slice with a naughty swipe of his finger on the frosting, and gets called out for his crimes.

A collective groan of pleasure resonates through the room as everyone tries their first slices.

“So,” Aiden says, his chin resting on Lambert’s shoulder, after a few bites of the pure heaven that is Yen’s cake, “is this a real birthday we’re celebrating, Jask?”

Lambert tsks. “This is obviously a fake one, his birthday-birthday was three months ago. We went to the waterpark, remember?”

Aiden hums, but Eskel frowns. “Wait, wasn’t his real birthday that weekend where we had that cookout back at the farm? Triss made brownies? We got too drunk and slept in the goat pen?”

“You’re all mistaken,” Yen interjects, “it was that night he dragged us out to that horrible club and made us sing karaoke until our voices gave out.”

“But mom,” Ciri says, “didn’t you buy me those skates exclusively for Jaskier’s birthday, when we all went ice skating in the park?”

All eyes fall on Jaskier, who is suddenly very interested in scraping his plate clean.

“Jask?” Geralt murmurs next to him.

“Mm?” Jaskier answers without looking up, licking pink frosting from his fingers.

Geralt leans down to whisper in his ear. “I think they’re onto you.”

Jaskier looks around him, and takes on the defensive. “Why, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Geralt,” Aiden interrupts, pointing his fork at him. “Surely you must know. What are we actually celebrating right now?”

Jaskier is looking at him with a menacing glint in his eyes. “If you don’t know the answer to this question, Geralt, so help me…”

Geralt clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the couch. “Well, of course it’s his birthday-birthday today. You all must’ve gotten confused those last times we hung out, because… because we’ve been planning today for so long. Must’ve gotten that all mixed up, you people.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier agrees, clicking his tongue and settling down beside him. “You people. Not remembering the most important day of the year. Should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Everyone looks suspicious still, but then Yen offers seconds, and the topic is quickly forgotten.

“Geralt,” Jaskier whispers into his neck.

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“Mm,” he replies. “‘M not sure I’m so happy with this scheme you’ve been pulling. They are my family, you know.”

Jaskier presses a kiss to his neck. “But the cake, Geralt. All that cake.”

“Mm,” Geralt concedes. “You’re right. Think we can fool them for one more this year?”

“Us two?” Jaskier says with a grin, pulling him in for a kiss. “We can do anything.”

#mywriting #mortuary au #i hope you like it <3 #jaskier scamming everyone into giving him more cake is my spirit animal #i hope you get good cake <3 <3 <3

152 notes · View notes

youaremysunshine-court · 10 months

Text

Going into Witcher ep2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OH HEY “Im ciri” hi hello what????

#witcher s3 #witcher spoilers #witcher s3 spoilers #jay watches witcher #s3 e2

7 notes · View notes

yeraskier · 2 years

Note

for the writing prompts - geraskier + 91? 🥺

"Don't go on the date."

Jaskier freezes, pulling his hand away from the doorknob before turning around.

Geralt stands in the center of their living room like a fucking statue of some Greek God.

"Oh, hey Geralt," Jaskier greets, tone purposefully more lively than it should be. "Didn't know you were here."

He did know, heard the door when it closed shut. Jaskier had decided to be even louder while on the phone with Triss as a result, going on and on about how hot his date is. Because he's mature like that.

"Don't go on that date," Geralt says again, and Jaskier can feel his composure slipping away from him, just like that.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"No actually, I don't," he quips, "otherwise I wouldn't be asking."

"Jaskier." And oh, how much he hates that. Oh, how much he fucking despises when Geralt says his name like that--- all soft, all sincere, full of promises he won't keep.

Geralt said his name like that several times last Friday when he was buried inside of Jaskier.

"I don't have time for this, Geralt," he says, ready to turn and leave again, but---

"Jaskier, last week---"

"Oh." Jaskier muses. "Now you want to talk about last week. Not the night of, since you kept distracting me every time I tried to say something. Not the morning after, since you fucking left. Not the seven times I called or the dozens of times I texted, since you fucking ignored all of that. Now. Now is when you want to talk about it, when it's fucking convenient for you."

"Jask---"

"No," Jaskier utters, and he doesn't mean for it to come out as loud as it does, but that's seemingly out of his control. The heavy feeling in his chest, the way the hand clinging to his car keys trembles--- those are out of his control, too.

"You fucked me, and then you left. And you know what? I'm not even that mad about the leaving. I get it, really, I do. Having sex with your roommate of three years after ending a two-year relationship probably fucked with you a bunch. I'm not surprised, I don't fault you for it, but ignoring me for a whole week afterward? That, I fault you for."

And Geralt has the gall to look hurt by this. Fucking bastard.

"I know you were feeling a lot, Geralt," he reasons, "trust me, I know. And I was fine with giving you some space to process, but you didn't even---" He feels a trail of wet warmth travel down his cheek, and Jaskier doesn't know when he started crying. "You didn't--- Anything would've sufficed, Geralt. An I'm safe, just need some time to think text, or an I'm not ready to talk yet, but we will. Anything. Instead, you chose radio silence, and after a week of not speaking to me, the first time you do is to tell me to not go on a date? Like I should just sit around waiting for you when you clearly don't give a fuck about me?"

"Jaskier, you know that's not true."

"Oh, no? Then tell me what is true, Geralt."

It's silent for a moment, and then, "Jaskier, I'm sorry."

Jaskier laughs.

He's still crying, too.

I'm sorry, Geralt said like that's supposed to just fix everything. It could have a few nights ago. Hell, Jaskier is so in love with this man that it could've worked last night, before he was asked out.

Not tonight, though.

"Go fuck yourself, Geralt."

And he leaves.

#wow things just keep Not going the way i plan them tonight #oh well #have some angst!#no editing we die like men #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing

130 notes · View notes

kingeomer · 2 years

Text

Way Down Inside (Honey, You Need It)

Geralt/Jaskier / rated explicit / 2,363 words / ao3.

written for @thepassifloradiscord‘s team bingo event again, this time for the prompt “Daddy/Mommy kink”. also features lingerie, stockings, face fucking, choking, gentle!dom geralt, safewords (non-verbal, used to convey being good to carry on), and some aftercare. it’s face fucking but it’s soft, you guys. enjoy!

Jaskier fidgeted with the sash holding his robe shut for what had to be the thousandth time since he’d changed. His nerves were stupid and he knew they were, he and Geralt were in love and there were few things that would change that. Besides, he’d seen Geralt’s search history and knew this was something his boyfriend liked.

Just. Would he like Jaskier like this?

“Like this” being dressed in a light pink lace bralette and matching thong, black stockings, platform heels, and a satin robe. He’d completed the look with a little makeup; shimmery pink lipstick and light mascara and eyeliner. Jaskier thought he looked good, and the feel of the soft fabrics against his skin felt luxurious, he just… he really hoped Geralt at least approved, if not appreciated it.

Perched on the edge of their bed, Jaskier waited impatiently. Geralt should be home from work any moment now, and the anticipation was killing him.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs made Jaskier jump slightly, and Geralt’s voice calling out his name set an unpleasant flutter of butterflies off inside him.

“I—I’m in the bedroom…” he responded, feeling himself already blushing. God, this was stupid. He should just rush to the bathroom and scrub this stupid makeup off and—

“Honestly, Jask, the day I’ve ha— aah, oh my God!” Geralt cut himself off as he walked into the room, seemingly thrown entirely off course by his boyfriend sat demurely in pretty lingerie on the bed.

“Hi…?” Said boyfriend responded, feeling his cheeks burn hot as he peered up at Geralt from beneath his eyelashes.

“What… What’s this?” Geralt looked flustered, which made Jaskier think maybe he’d got things right after all. He shifted a little where he sat before shrugging, feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Wanted to surprise you,” still fidgeting, Jaskier found it hard to actually meet Geralt’s eye. “This is stupid, I’m gonna go cha—”

“No!” He’s cut off almost immediately by Geralt, who in a few long strides was across the room to physically stop Jaskier moving with a hand on his wrist. His thumb stroked over the satin of his robe and Jaskier shuddered at the sensation, blinking up at Geralt as he blushed shyly.

“You look amazing, you are amazing. What a lovely surprise.” Guiding Jaskier back to the bed, Geralt had him sit back down again, cupping his warm cheek gently. Jaskier found himself smiling despite the nerves still bubbling up inside him, and when Geralt dragged his thumb over his lover’s bottom lip, Jaskier in turn kissed the pad; little more than a sweet, tender press of lips and a tease for more.

“Really…?” Jaskier fluttered his eyelashes slightly, feeling a little more confident that he’d got things right. With the robe being tied shut, Geralt hasn’t seen the whole look yet, but he was already this affected?

Jaskier was almost eye level with his waist, could see the swell of Geralt’s sizeable erection pressing against his zipper, and peering up he could see the heat in those honey coloured eyes he loved so much. Fuck, okay. Geralt was really on board with this.

Thick fingers brushed down over Jaskier’s neck and over his collarbones to follow the edge of the robe, tickling over hair dusted skin. Jaskier shuddered, and as Geralt’s fingertips dipped just slightly under the fabric, he decided to untie the sash holding it closed

“Holy shit, Jask…” the older man’s voice sounded wrecked as he let his eyes wander. Letting the robe fall from his shoulders, Jaskier felt emboldened, and as Geralt’s fingertips lightly brushed over him, he arched his back, pushing his chest further into his lover’s touch.

“Am I pretty, Daddy?” Jaskier turned his voice playfully coy as Geralt palmed the swell of his pecs, squeezing lightly. The feel of those big, warm hands though the lacy fabric was maddening, made all the better as it caused his stiff nipples to drag against the material just right.

“So pretty, baby,” he swiped his thumbs over Jaskier’s nipples then, seeking to delight in his full body shudder, and finally, finally, leaned in to begin peppering kisses over bare skin. “Daddy’s pretty little girl, aren’t you?” Jaskier’s brain seemed to grid to a halt at Geralt’s words, and he’d have been embarrassed at the high, whining moan that left his mouth if not for the way Geralt bit down on his shoulder as it spilled out.

“‘M yours, Daddy. Anything you want…” feeling breathless, Jaskier angled his head towards Geralt, desperate for those lips on his. His lover seemed to know exactly what he needed and claimed him with a deep kiss, pushing his tongue into the younger man’s mouth to tangle with his own desperately.

Hands roamed over each other as they kissed; Geralt groping and squeezing every inch of Jaskier that he could reach, and Jaskier tugging Geralt’s shirt out of his pants, rightly uncoordinatedly with his belt and with buttons.

Geralt’s hand covering his own as he started tugging at his lover’s flies had Jaskier blinking up at him with wide eyes, a playful little pout tugging at his lips.

“Let me see how pretty you look, baby. Lay down.” Geralt instructed, his hands leaving Jaskier’s body as he took a reluctant step back. Still pouting, Jaskier did as he was told, falling back into the bed and wriggling backwards, heels catching on the bedspread as he tried his best to artfully display himself for his Daddy’s approval.

“Gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous, pretty little Julek,” as he spoke, Geralt finished unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it hanging from his broad shoulders as he tugged his flies down, letting his trousers and his boxers slip from his hips and to the floor. “Come back here, want your mouth.”

Jaskier didn’t need telling twice.

Scrambling to the foot of the bed, Jaskier started to sit in front of his lover, desperate to get his hands and mouth on that huge prick. He was stopped, though, by a hand in his shoulder.

“Ah ah. On your back, head off the bed.” Swallowing, Jaskier nodded and began to move into position.

Peering up at Geralt as best as he could while upside down, Jaskier bit his bottom lip lightly, teasingly, before flicking his tongue out to wet his lips slowly. Geralt seemed to approve as he stepped closer, a fond little smile on his face, and brushed his fingers over a warm cheek.

“There we go. Perfect.” Dipping his fingers into Jaskier’s mouth, he let his younger lover suckle on them as he carried on speaking. “Gonna ruin this pretty makeup, darling.”

Nodding caused Jaskier’s head to bob on the long fingers in his mouth, a poor imitation of what they both wanted. Letting them slip from his mouth, Jaskier whined breathily.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck my mouth.”

Geralt let out a soft curse, taking himself in hand and giving his cock a few lazy strokes as he simply watched Jaskier. Finally, after agonisingly long seconds, he stepped closer. Still holding his length in one hand, Geralt used the other to adjust Jaskier, tilting his head down lower and opening his mouth wider until he was positioned perfectly to take everything Geralt would give him.

“Take a breath, sweetheart,” was all the warning Jaskier was given before he was being fed Geralt’s length, inch by inch until he felt the head bump against his soft palette and beyond, nestled tightly in his throat.

Swallowing as best as he could, Jaskier brought a hand up to blindly tap Geralt anywhere he could reach, their signal for when his mouth was busy to continue. His fingers scrabbled against the firm, hairy skin of Geralt’s abdomen and were grabbed up by his lover, squeezed tightly but briefly before they were let go.

Geralt wasted little time, setting a fast pace as he fucked into Jaskier’s throat.

“Fuck, you feel so good, made for my cock, weren’t you?” Nodding as best as he could in his current position only served to force the cock in his throat impossibly deeper, and Jaskier could feel the tears streaming from his eyes, drool bubbling from his lips and covering his face.

Geralt had said he wanted to ruin his makeup. Jaskier just hoped when he finished he’d be pleased with the results.

The feeling of being so thoroughly used made Jaskier burn hot, suddenly desperate to cum. His own prick had been neglected so far, trapped tightly beneath a thin layer of lace. Not sure whether he’s allowed to, Jaskier tentatively started moving a hand down to relieve some of the pressure, only for Geralt to groan above him.

“That’s it, baby. Rub your little prick through your panties. Good boy…” the words made Jaskier burn even brighter, a bolt of humiliation shooting through him as his fingers fumble over the fabric. He knew he wasn’t “little” by any stretch, but something about those words from Geralt had him reeling in the best way.

At the same time as his own fingers began stroking over his shaft, Geralt’s returned to his chest, groping and squeezing at his pecs through the bralette he wore.

“God, look at you. Fuck—” Geralt interrupted himself as Jaskier swallowed tightly, feeling his lover’s length twitch where it was lodged so deeply inside him. “Look so pretty, darling. Your little tits…” he pinched at hard nipples through the lace then, chuckling at the garbled sounding whine that worked its way out of Jaskier. “Should take you to get some piercings some day, baby. You’d look perfect with some rings right here.” He punctuated his words with a sharp twist of each nipple, causing Jaskier to choke as his body bucked and twisted from the overwhelming sensations.

Geralt backed off, easing his throbbing prick from Jaskier to let him catch his breath. Coughing as he choked on his own saliva and Geralt’s precome, Jaskier wheezed for air. He kept playing with himself though, and after a moment, brought his free hand up to tap over Geralt’s hip, desperate to be used once more.

“That’s it, you’re so good for me. Not long now, keep touching yourself,” Geralt’s voice was like gravel as he eased his way back inside, one hand at the base of his cock and the other slipped under one side of the bralette to caress warm skin. Jaskier hummed as best as he could, delighting at being filled once again.

This time, Geralt set a brutal pace. Hips fucking back and forth into Jaskier’s throat, he singlemindedly seemed to chase his own orgasm down, and a hand pressed down lightly on Jaskier’s throat to feel the length moving in and out of the tight channel, the fluttering of his airways being cut off and released again.

Jaskier had long been lightheaded, driven wild by his Daddy’s words, his hands, the way he was using his good boy for his own pleasure. His prick had soaked the thong he still wore, lace clinging to the head as he rutted up into his own touch, and the heels had slipped off his feet, leaving his toes to curl as he arched his hips upward, desperate for his own release.

“F—fuck, Jask, ‘m gonna. Gonna cum, baby. Need you to, need to see…” Geralt sounded like he was losing his mind. Leaning over Jaskier, the movement driving his cock somehow even deeper still, Geralt slid a hand under the straining waistband of the thong, curling tightly around Jaskier’s prick and tugging fast, almost in time to the way he ground his hips against Jaskier’s face.

Everything began to get too much; Geralt’s hands, his cock, his body covering Jaskier’s, the drag and scrape of lace over his oversensitive skin, the filth pouring from his Daddy’s mouth, the lack of air getting to his lungs—

Jaskier tried to scream as his orgasm tore through him, but all that came out was a barely audible, gargled moan. He saw stars for a moment, then white, then finally black.

He barely registered Geralt’s cock twitching erratically in his throat, the almost violent thrusting of hips against his face, the words tumbling from his lover above him, so utterly fucked out and rendered barely present.

He did register the sudden ability to breathe again as Geralt carefully slipped his softening cock from him. He registered gentle hands cradling his head, soft lips peppering kisses over his face, a tongue lapping at tear tracks and drool and spit that covered his face.

It took awhile to come back to himself, how long, he couldn’t quite say, but Jaskier blinked between sips of water and the fog in his brain had all but cleared.

Geralt had moved him at some point. He was laid in his lover’s arms, cradled against his broad chest as they reclined into the pillows at the head of the bed. One hand spanned Jaskier’s stomach, brushing lightly over him, soothing him as tiny tremors still coursed through him.

“There you are…” Geralt’s voice was soft, pitched low as he peered down at Jaskier. He smiled gently, lips curling up as he swept his thumb under Jaskier’s eye, gently cradling his cheek as he leaned in for a sweet kiss.

As they parted, Jaskier cleared his throat to speak, but Geralt shushed him.

“Rest your voice, Julek. You were amazing,” warm, honey coloured eyes held his own as Geralt wiped at Jaskier’s face with a damp cloth carefully, then he was eased back into the pillows.

A quiet, painful whine slipped out of Jaskier as Geralt let go of him, but he was once again shushed by the older man. “Just getting you clean and comfortable, love.” Geralt told him as he slipped further down the bed, tugging the stockings off and then the panties down over Jaskier’s hips and tossing them to the floor, using the cloth to clean up his spend.

Geralt took the gentlest care getting them both stripped down before finally pulling the covers up over them, pulling Jaskier into his arms once again for a tender kiss.

“Rest now. I love you.” Eyes drifting shut, Jaskier did exactly as he was told.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #smut #manda writes

62 notes · View notes

eiirisworkshop · 5 months

Text

The First Annual Family Of Promise Roadtrip

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

Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do that anyway!”

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

Jaskier very maturely stuck his tongue out at her.

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

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

Yennefer and Jaskier shared a curious look.

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

Jaskier shrugged sweepingly. “Brothers, maybe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well?” Yen prompted.

“What was that all about?” Jask prodded.

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

Yen shrugged. “Surprisingly, none.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep talking.”

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

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

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

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

“Put your seatbelt on,” Geralt growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm not!” Jaskier squawked.

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

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

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

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

“Shotgun wedding,” Jaskier singsonged from the back.

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

“I'm staying.”

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

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

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

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

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

Geralt smiled a little. “Beer me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geralt nodded. “Calanthe Riannon.”

“The congresswoman?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yen sighed. “Because romance is stupid.”

“That much I know.”

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

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

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

Geralt shook his head while he drank.

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

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

End of chapter! Read the rest on Ao3 here.

#eiiri made this #fanfiction #the witcher

2 notes · View notes