Tumgik
#and geralt goes a bit still. asks ''who loved you back
fangirleaconmigo · 3 days
Note
On the topic of book scenes that were changed, one of them that interests me is the scene where it seems Geralt and Yen have died in The Last Wish. In the book, the mayor of the town starts to go on about how it’s so sad that Geralt died but don’t worry they’ll build him a statue. This greatly angers Dandelion and he yells at the mayor. In the show, Jaskier is the one who’s like “This is so sad, but don’t worry I’ll write the greatest ballad for Geralt!”. The complete change of the personality of the same character is what interests me. I love reading your analysis, so I was wondering if you have any thoughts on this. I know the change was probably for comedy purposes and that this is pretty insignificant, but to me, Dandelion’s reaction in the book just really screamed such a deep love for Geralt so I found the change a bit disappointing.
The Last Wish vs Bottle Appetites - Dandelion's reaction to Geralt's 'death'
Hi Nonny! Thanks for the ask. You sent this to me so very long ago, you may have completely moved on. BUT I figure if you aren't still interested, someone who follows me might be, so here I go:
Your ask is about a compare/contrast the book vs TWN scene where Geralt is presumed dead, and we’re comparing how Jaskier(Dandelion) react to his possible death, and how much emotional weight the scene is given.
I'll start by summarizing, but just a note: Dandelion does something in the books that I don't know how to interpret and maybe you (or anyone reading) can give their thoughts.
Ok, we’ll start with the show.
Bottled Appetites
In the show, the mayor and town dignitaries are not in the scene where Jaskier thinks Geralt is dead. It is just him and Chireadan looking at the building. Things are quiet, and Jaskier assumes they are dead.
"Are you sure they were up there? This can't be happening. This can't be happening."
I gotta say, Joey Batey, sells the emotion here. He has the most expressive eyes. He could do just about anything with any material, I think.
"Why did Geralt go in there, it doesn't make any sense...to save a mad fucking witch, why?"
It cuts away to Geralt and Yen. When it comes back to Jaskier, he is on his knees, assuming they are dead. Here is what he says:
"What am I supposed to do now, hm? It wasn't supposed to go this way. I'm going to write you the best song, so that everyone remembers who you were, what we did, everything we saw. And I will sing it, for the rest of my days. "
That is what you means as far as it seeming like he's giving up rather quickly. As he speaks, most of the camera work is on Chireadan, who goes to actually look whether they are dead. Chireadan stands in front of the window. At the end of his speaking part, the camera is back on Jaskier for the punchline.
"He always said I had the most wonderful singing voice."
And that’s the jokey joke. It references the b plot of Geralt feeling bad that he called Jaskier’s voice a ‘pie with no filling’. When Jaskier is hurt, Geralt says that he doesn’t want that to be the last thing Jaskier remembers.
Clearly, that would not be the last thing Jaskier remembers, because he will just change it to suit himself. It's a little of the ol’ Dandelion impenetrable ego performance.
And that is the 'piercing' of the dramatic moment you referenced.
But then Chireadan comes back.
"They're alive."
And Jaskier is like...
"Bollocks."
They go look in the window together, and see them having sex. Chireadan pulls Jaskier away.
The Last Wish
In the books, it's quite a different set up. 
Dandelion is with the Mayor (Neville) and Priest of Rinde (Krepp), while Geralt fights with Yen in the building. 
The reason for this reflects what I think is the biggest difference between the two stories-Yen.
Much like in the show, Yen did send Geralt to beat up the townspeople who are against her. (the tone is quite different, and the show doesn’t show it, but the basics are the same)
However, Yen does not want Geralt to get into legal trouble on her account, so she sends Dandelion back through a portal, and asks him to use his last wish to help Geralt.
Dandelion drops back through the portal.
“Innocent!” yelled the poet in a clear melodious tenor, sitting on the floor and looking around, his eyes vague. “Innocent! The witcher is innocent! I wish you to believe it!”
So now Dandelion is with the mayor and the priest, and Geralt goes to help Yen against Dandelion’s advice. Like in the show, Dandelion advises against it.
“Geralt,” said Dandelion, ‘you’ve gone stark raving mad! Keep away from that bloody strangler!”
And look, he has a point. He’s basically like, she is choosing this. She wants to do this. She used us both against our will. She is powerful and terrifying (the subtext being, why would she need you. If she’s dead set on this shit, then let her do it)
But of course Geralt goes. He is already falling for Yen. I think in the books it’s more clear as to why. But that’s sort of beside the point of this post. (At some point I want to do a compare/contrast Yenralt.) 
But anywho. In the books, Dandelion is with the mayor, the priest, and Chireadan and they are watching the building from a safe distance.
Dandelion is distraught.
“What’s happening there!” Dandelion, clinging to the wall, strained his neck, trying to see in the downpour. “Tell me what is happening there, damnit!”
Then as the house begins to fall, 
“Why did Geralt have to go in there?” groaned Dandelion. What the hell for? Why did he insist on saving that witch? Why? Chireadan, do you understand?”
Of course, Chireadan is in love with Yen, so he understand perfectly.
Then, Dandelion is terrified Geralt will die. He is upset, he is wailing.
“Are they both going to die?” wailed Dandelion. “How come, Krepp why? After all, the witcher--Why by all perfidious and unexpected plagues, isn’t he escaping? Why? What’s keeping him? Why doesn’t he leave the bloody witch to her fate and run away? It’s senseless...It’s suicide. And plain idiocy!”
The mayor is not so distraught.
“It’s his job, after all,” interrupted Neville. “The witcher is saving my town...if he chases the demon away, I’ll reward him handsomely...”
Then Dandelion cuts him off. 
Dandelion snatched the hat decorated with the heron feather from his head, spat into it, threw it in the mud and trampled it, spitting out words in various languages as he did.
Now, I believe that spitting in one’s hat is considered something for good luck, and in some cultures is meant to ward off evil spirits. Dandelion looks down on superstition as is quite explicitly atheist, yet he resorts to it the minute he’s desperate on Geralt’s behalf.
(If I am reading that correctly. It could also be an expression of antipathy for Neville for all I know. Maybe someone else can comment, I'm just guessing)
And then Dandelion realizes something. They explained to him that Geralt actually has the wishes, but then it dawns on him that Geralt could use it to save himself.
“But he’s...” he groaned suddenly, “still got one wish in reserve. He could save both her, and himself! Mr. Krepp!”
The priest explains how difficult that would be. Then the house ‘explodes’ and the djinn escapes. The mayor and the owner of the house rejoice. The owner of the house has previously said that he has good insurance, so he says ‘what a wonderful ruin’. Dandelion is not so happy. In fact he is distraught, understandably. He sees that the house has fallen and he is afraid they are dead.
“Dammit, dammit!” hollered Dandelion...”it’s shattered the entire house! Nobody could survive that! Nobody I tell you!”
The mayor jumps straight to the same conclusion, but it significantly happier about it.
The witcher, Geralt of Rivia, has sacrificed himself for the town,” mayor Nevills said ceremoniously. “We won’t forget him. We’ll revere him. We’ll think of a statue...”
Dandelion does not react well to this. This is the part you were referencing.
Dandelion shook a piece of wicker matting bound with clay from his shoulder, brushed his jerkin free of lumps of rain-dampened plaster, looked at the mayor and, in a few well-chosen words, expressed his opinion about sacrifice, reverence, memory, and all the statues in the world.
I kind of wish the book had spelled out exactly what he said because I think it would have been amazing. But Dandelion tears him a new asshole and tells him where he can put the statue. We just don't get to hear the exact words.
Then it grows quiet. Dandelion is still afraid they are dead, but decides to go look to make sure.
By all the gods,” muttered Dandelion, “what silence...they’re dead I tell you. Either they’ve killed each other, or my djinn’s finished them off.”
Notice he still calls it 'my djinn', I think because he found it. He clearly is ready to blame himself. But then they go take a look at the ruins. They start to hear noises.
“Yennefer’s alive,” said Dandelion suddenly, straining his musical ear. “I heard her moan. There, she moaned again.”
And like in the show, Chireadan looks through a broken window, seeing Geralt and Yen having sex.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said quietly. “Let’s not disturb them.” 
Chireadan is heartbroken, because he loves Yen.
Of course Dandelion is curious and doesn’t want to be put off (as always).
“What are they doing,” Dandelion was curious. “Tell me damnit!” The elf smiled very, very sadly. “I don’t like grand words,” he said. “And it is impossible to give it a name without using grand words.”
I think because of the involvement of the mayor, showing the way they see the witcher (useful, but highly expendable) next to Dandelion (that’s my friend, motherfucker) is interesting. I like that Dandelion tears him a new one.
The moment is definitely moved past much more quickly in the show, though to be fair they have a lot less time.
But what does everyone else think? If you’ve got this far, please share your thoughts! Which version of the story do you prefer? And what was the hat spitting all about?
52 notes · View notes
Text
I'm better off
Summary: Jaskier ambushes you so he can play match-maker This is a little follow-up after Wolves and Voices, a Witcher x Bridgerton crossover au Warnings: none? Pairings: platonic!Jaskier x reader; Geralt x Jaskier; implied Benedict Bridgerton x reader Square Filled: Age Gap A/N: @thewitcherbingo
“Which one was it?”
Jaskier sidles into the room, ambushing you as you are digging into the remains of yesterday’s dinner. You were surprised there was actually any left, the wolves can devour anything and still go begging for more.
Maybe it was because Lambert was on a hunt across the country.
“What?”
“Which brother caught your attention?”
He leans on the back of the chair opposite you and studies your face, waiting for a muscle to twitch and give you away.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Jaskier holds up a hand to stop you from speaking further, not that you’d wish to elaborate, “Wait, stop, I think I can guess.”
Jaskier had been present when Geralt had requested a debriefing of last night’s hunt from you and Ciri, the four of you crammed onto the two sofas in Jaskier’s reception office. Jaskier wanted gossip whilst Geralt wanted facts; it was a difficult balance that in the end tipped in the witcher’s favour.
He goes to the counter where you’d left the teapot brewing and pours himself a cup.
“So you said you only spoke with the viscount at the start and then you went back to ask follow-up questions,” he continues, and you nod, not allowing him to find any discrepancies, “and then there was another brother, Benedict Bridgerton. So it only gives us two choices, unless the third eldest brother was also there and you didn’t say anything about him.”
“Jaskier-”
“No,” he ignores your attempt to distract him, “I don’t think he would’ve been there. He would have said something that would need to have been mentioned. They all have to have a say, those Bridgertons.”
Jaskier rolls his eyes and you wonder how he had chanced to become acquaintances with these people. It was a well-known secret that Jaskier held a title, but very few knew which one. You doubted even Geralt knew, and yet he still employed the man when he clearly had other means of income (besides the occasional coin thrown in his direction when he busked or played at the pub round the corner).
“How do you even know these people?” you voice your thoughts when Jaskier pauses for breath in his monologue.
“Ah,” he sighs and runs his hand through his hair, “I used to run in the same circles as their father before he passed. Knowing a man such as the late viscount means you have to know his children.”
“The same circles - what do you mean?”
“You know, the same social circles. When I was at university, he was several years above but agreed to tutor me and we found common ground. Also, one cannot envy a man who finds such a loving wife as quickly as he did.”
You want to gag. Marriage? No, thank you. You were pretty sure there wasn’t anything in the witcher codex that prohibited marriage, this wasn’t a nunnery, but surely it would be in your best interest not to form such serious attachments and risk putting them in danger.
You could be a wife and a witcher, you supposed. But any man who supported this lifestyle would be mad to take you as a spouse, let alone a lover.
“Anyway,” Jaskier backtracks, a twinkle in his eyes, “I think it’s Mister Benedict who caught your eye.”
You knew this was coming. “No,” you scoff, your contempt sounding surprisingly authentic, “no one caught my eye. Jaskier what makes you think I care for any of them?”
“Well, I had the pleasure of meeting the Viscount yesterday morning, and he seemed to me to be a bit highly strung. Not your type.”
“How do you know what my type is?” you exclaim around a mouthful, ready to defend against any supposition he may have the gall to make.
Jaskier gives you a soft look, “I just do, my dear.”
You huff, wanting more of an explanation but not wanting to push the subject any further into unfamiliar territory.
Silence falls as you finish your plate and Jaskier sips his tea, waiting.
“He’s probably much too old for me anyway,” you frown, hating the direction this conversation was going but unable to control yourself.
“Oh, my dear, I think this age gap you’re imagining is much smaller than you think. It would be much worse if you were interested in me or Geralt.”
Your cheeks flame at this and there is nothing you can do to control it, except hide your face in your hands. You had carried a torch for Jaskier when you had first started working here, his confidence and disposition incredibly alluring. All it took to snuff that flame was the knowledge of his infatuation for your boss.
“What about me?” Geralt wanders into the kitchen, notices your nearly empty plate and sighs. Goes to find his own food.
“Just saying how ancient you are, Geralt,” you poke your tongue out.
“Uh, no,” Jaskier accuses, pointing his finger at you. “Someone caught our little witcher’s eye yesterday.”
You scoff, not wanting to involve any one else. You give him a pointed look from the side of your eye, a warning. You know he knows you know his secret, not that he tries very hard to keep it that way, you think. Geralt is just very oblivious to his flirtations. Acutely oblivious. Dense.
Geralt hums and you doubt it is a contemplative one. If he didn’t have a mouthful of sandwich, he’d probably warn you not to let it distract you or something like that.
Instead, he says, “Have you seen Cirilla?”
“No,” says Jaskier.
“No, why?” you say at the same time.
Geralt sighs minutely, “I have an errand for her.”
“Could I do it?” Anything to get out of the house, let Jaskier forget about his matchmaking schemes.
Geralt waves you away. “No, sorry, kid. I need her specific skill set.”
“Ah,” you had forgotten Ciri could do this thing where she disappeared and then reappeared in the next room. Or the next street over. Whenever she was on a hunt with you she refrained from using it, preferring to travel by foot or horseback, probably for your own sake. Not that you’d mind, you think. It’s just one more thing she can do that you can’t.
Geralt called it Chaos, an ancient form of energy that can be utilised and shaped to the wielder’s intent. He said it used to be very popular on the Continent several hundred years ago.
Geralt leaves the kitchen, ignorant of your inner turmoil, the ever-revolving self-doubt that you had become very good at ignoring. What can you do that Ciri cannot?
“The social season is only just starting, I’m sure I can procure an invitation from somewhere… pull some strings so we can get you formally acquainted.”
“Jaskier, stop. It’s fine, I’m better off not knowing him.”
Jaskier pouts. You know he is trying to take your mind off Ciri so you lift the corner of your lips slightly, a poor attempt at a show of appreciation of his efforts.
It is very easy to let Jaskier win this battle. Besides, what could go wrong?
“I wouldn’t mind one fancy ball, though. I guess it could be fun.”
He laughs and claps his hands together. Grinning, he collects your plate and places it with his cup by the sink, ready to be washed later at the end of the day. He winks at you as he leaves the room to continue his work.
You know nothing good could come of Jaskier’s meddling, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t be there for the ride.
54 notes · View notes
julek · 2 years
Note
36: stopping a kiss when it gets too heated for geraskier perhaps 💕
#36. stopping a kiss when it gets too heated
It’s been a lazy evening.
With the cool breeze of early autumn blowing fallen leaves outside, their routine has mostly consisted of a steady cycle of standing in front of the open fridge, willing something sweet and cake-shaped into existence, sitting on the couch then sliding onto the carpet then sitting on the couch again, watching old movies on the TV, ice cream tub in hand, and other shapes of doing-nothing-ness.
And kissing.
Lots of kissing.
It’s all so new between them, it still feels very delicate. Geralt can feel it in the way Jaskier’s hand frames his face, in the way his lips explore but don’t intrude. It’s sweet and exciting and it tugs at his heart in a way nothing has in a very long time, and every waking hour of every day he’s incensed with the knowledge that he can have this, that Jaskier is not walking away, that this is theirs to have. 
So in between all the couch-sitting, couch-sliding-off, there are many kisses. Stolen, some, when the other isn’t looking — like when Jaskier laughs at the cheesy dialogue of whatever rom-com is running in the background, and Geralt’s heart swells with a love that feels infinite, and he just has to kiss the grin off his face. Sweet, like when Geralt comes back from the kitchen with more popcorn and Jaskier thanks him with a gentle kiss to the forehead, almost like an afterthought. That’s what excites him — the fact that words, glances, almost everything can be reduced to a single action, a single kiss.
Like now, the movie completely and utterly forgotten as they kiss and kiss and kiss. Geralt doesn’t know how it started, or who did; all he knows is that Jaskier tastes like salt and butter and that he smells a little bit like the candle they burned a while ago, and that his hair is soft under Geralt’s hands and that he sighs into Geralt’s mouth from time to time, and it feels like heaven. 
Jaskier’s hands begin to wonder, too. They reach for Geralt’s face, then his jaw, then lower, lower, lower, tickling his sides. Geralt gasps, unbidden, as Jaskier’s fingers begin slowly opening the buttons of his shirt, teasing, his touch making Geralt’s skin erupt in gooseflesh. 
There’s a soft moan — Geralt couldn’t say who’s mouth it belongs to, lost in the feeling as he is — as Jaskier rocks forward, abandoning his seat on the couch to plant himself more firmly onto Geralt’s lap. The kiss grows more heated, their tongues meeting again and again, and suddenly, it becomes too much. 
Geralt gently taps Jaskier’s thigh as he pulls back a bit, and is relieved to see Jaskier’s mouth curl into a small smile. 
“Too much?” He asks Geralt, and there’s no condescendence in his tone, nothing but plain curiosity. 
“Yeah,” Geralt nods, letting out a small laugh. He can feel his face burn a bit, his cheeks warm to the touch. “Sorry.”
Jaskier sits back on his haunches and playfully swats Geralt’s arm. “No saying sorry. I’m glad you let me know.”
Geralt nods again, looking down at his hands. The ever-present feeling that he’s ruining things by not being enough is trying to make itself heard in his mind, but he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the nice things — the feeling of Jaskier’s skin against his, their hands locked together, the pleasant butterfly buzz in his stomach, the loving shade of blue in Jaskier’s eyes that tells him everything he needs to know. 
“I know,” he says out loud, and Jaskier smiles at him, squeezing his hand. “Could you come here anyway?”
Jaskier goes, of course, never in his life turning down cuddles, and it settles something in Geralt’s skin, the way they fit together so perfectly: the way Jaskier’s hair tickles his chin and how his arms can wrap around him like a blanket, warm and inviting. 
On the screen, Sally’s blue eyes are shining with tears. 
“I love you,” Jaskier says against his arm. “I can’t believe you distracted me during Harry’s big speech, though.”
Geralt nudges him. “He tells her he loves her even though she gets cold when it’s seventy degrees out,” he tells him. “And that he wants to spend the rest of their lives together.”
“Hmm,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “Now that would be something, huh?”
His face is shining as the credits roll.
Geralt loves him to bits. 
“It would.”
169 notes · View notes
kueble · 1 year
Text
The Sweetest Thing
This was written for the @witchertrickortreat prompt: Fall.  It’s part of my Spider Plant AU.
Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 words.
Jaskier/Eskel
---
The sun is shining brightly, but there’s a cool edge to the breeze, and Jaskier lets the cuffs of his oversized sweater slip over his hands.  Eskel must notice, because he reaches over and laces their fingers together, warming him up nicely.  Jaskier smiles at him, but manages to keep quiet and pretend to be listening to the lovely farm worker explaining the rules to the small group at the welcome stand.  He should probably pay attention, but that’s what he has Eskel for.
Once the speech ends, Eskel grabs one of the farm’s cloth tote bags and steers him towards the orchard.  The apple trees are lined up in neat little rows, each one marked with a sign declaring what type of apple they hold.  It looks so picturesque that Jaskier feels his chest tighten.  Who would have thought he’d be in the kind of relationship where he goes apple picking on a date?  Certainly not him.
“You’re here, but your mind is miles away.  Where’d I lose you?” Eskel interrupts him, and Jaskier offers a sheepish smile at him.
“Sorry, dear,” he says with a snort, “I’m actually thinking about how wonderful you are, but perhaps I should enjoy the time I’m spending with you instead?”
“Why not do both?  Feel free to compliment me while we pick,” Eskel tells him with a fond look.
“I just might,” Jaskier says before asking, “Why don’t you grow apples at the greenhouse?  It looks like this place does pretty decent business.”
“It sure does, but look at how massive it is!  We definitely don’t have the space to dedicate to an orchard.  Hell, we barely have space for everything Lambert wants to experiment with.  He’s always grafting something new in his free time.  We definitely wouldn’t even have room for Christmas trees come winter if we didn’t have so much land in the family.  Thankfully our dad lets us plant what we need,” Eskel explains.
“Ah, yes.  You’ll have to show off the family homestead someday.  Geralt makes it sound like it’s heaven on earth,” Jaskier says before realizing he probably shouldn’t invite himself to Eskel’s family home. Hanging out with his brothers occasionally is different than meeting his dad.
“It’s a rustic farmhouse in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with acres and acres of pine trees surrounding it.  Geralt just likes it so much because Vesemir lets him keep horses there,” Eskel points out.  “Trust me, it’s beautiful piece of property, but I’m way too accustomed to the comforts of civilization to pack up and move back home.  And uh, we’re actually invited for dinner this Saturday if you’d like?  I was going to try and find a way to sneak it into the conversation, but you’ve done me a huge favor here.”
“Oh, I’d love to!” Jaskier chirps, his excitement making Eskel’s cheeks darken.  He looks so handsome that Jaskier can’t help leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.  It’s over way too fast, and then they’re off picking.
They start off in a row of Empire apples, which Eskel mentions are great for baking.   Jaskier accuses him of keeping his hidden baking skills secret, but Eskel just shoots him a sly smile and offers to teach him how to bake a pie.  It’s easy banter, just light conversation as they work on picking the best looking apples.  Still, Jaskier feels pleasantly warm all over, and it’s definitely not the autumn sun heating him up.
They pick in silence for a bit, their tote bag half full in no time at all. That’s when Jaskier spots what has to be the prettiest apple he has ever seen.  It’s bright red with a couple patches of green, and it’s roughly the size of his fist.  He simply has to have it.  Sadly, he can’t reach it, even on his tip-toes.  He looks forlornly back at the ladders stacked next to the welcome stand, but they’ve wandered off quite a lot and they seem ridiculously far away.
“What’s wrong?” Eskel asks, tilting his head like a confused puppy while Jaskier pouts at him.
“I want that one,” he explains with a sigh, and Eskel reaches up, only for his fingers to barely touch the bottom of the apple.
“Let me help,” Eskel says, leaning over and motioning for Jaskier to climb on his shoulders.
“Eskel, dear, I’m six two.  If I can’t reach it, perhaps it’s not meant to be picked,” Jaskier says with a laugh.
“Well what if it’s the most delicious apple you’ve ever tasted?  What then?” Eskel argues, and Jaskier just rolls his eyes before stepping behind him.  It takes a bit of work and is ridiculously awkward, but somehow he manages to get himself on Eskel’s shoulders.
“Fuck, you’re strong,” Jaskier mumbles, slightly in awe of the behemoth of a man beneath him.  He looks down with wide eyes to find Eskel beaming up at him, his scarred lip pulling to show even more teeth than normal.
He’s absolutely gorgeous, and Jaskier still can’t believe he gets to call him his.
Jaskier nearly falls while getting down, and the two of them end up clinging to each other, laughing, with the prized apple clutched between them.   Making a show of wiping it on Eskel’s sweater, he offers his boyfriend a smirk before biting into the large apple.  The flavor is a perfect blend of sweet and tart, and Jaskier moans softly as the juices burst across his tongue.
He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, Eskel is grinning at him with heat in his gaze.  Instead of saying anything, he holds the apple up to his mouth, watching as Eskel takes a loud bite.  His eyelids flutter closed as he offers his own soft moan, and Jaskier has never felt so justified.
“That'll teach you not to mock me before you try it,” he says, but Eskel isn’t paying any attention to him, already grabbing for the apple again.  “Oh no you don’t! I worked hard for this!” he cries out, but Eskel just laughs before chasing him around the trunk of the tree.  He pins him up against it, bracketing Jaskier’s body with his own.
“Then you best stop teasing before we get thrown out of here for being indecent,” Eskel mutters, but he looks so pleased that Jaskier knows he isn’t upset.
“I’d say it would be worth it, but they’ll have to pry this apple from my cold dead hands, so let’s leave some space for Jesus between us and finish picking, yeah?" Jaskier asks.  Eskel snorts in response, but backs up and looks around for their abandoned tote bag.   Once he finds it, he holds out a hand for Jaskier, who happily slides his own into it, squeezing lightly as they move on.
If anyone sees their little display, no one calls them on it.
It takes them the better part of an hour - Jaskier will only let the very best apples into their tote - but eventually their bag is full.  Jaskier spends a ridiculous amount of time trying not to focus on how holding the overflowing bag makes the muscles on Eskel’s forearms strain.  His green and purple succulent tattoo is already enough to draw Jaskier’s eyes, and this is almost too much.
“You’re spacing out again,” Eskel says, snorting when Jaskier trips over his own feet in his effort to look normal.
“Sorry, I can’t help being easily flustered when my boyfriend is so hot,” he says with a giggle.  Eskel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth definitely twitch.
“Well good thing we’re done,” Eskel comments, his voice darkening, “all we have to do is weigh and pay for these, and then I can take you home and fluster you up some more.”
“I like the way you think.”
They make their way up the small hill and away from the orchard.  There aren’t many people in line, but they have to wait long enough for Jaskier to get distracted by all the extra little goodies the farm sells.  He debates whether or not he needs some local honey, but what really draws his eye is the hypnotic spin of the cider slushie machine.
“Go grab me a couple bottles of hard cider, and I’ll order you a slushie,” Eskel tells him softly, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“That obvious, huh?” he asks a bit sheepishly.
“You’re practically drooling, babe,” Eskel tells him, and Jaskier feels himself go warm at the nickname.  He never thought he’d be into sweet little endearments like that, but apparently he really really is.  He can tell Eskel notices his blush by the twinkle in his eyes.  Ignoring it, Jaskier wanders into the little shop and over towards the cooler full of hard cider.  There are way too many flavors to choose from, but he settles on an original and a tart cherry that he thinks Eskel will appreciate.
Once he returns to the line, Eskel nods approvingly at his choices and hands him an iced cold cider slushie.  The first sip is nearly sweet enough to knock him over, and he must make a face, because Eskel chuckles at him.
“It’s sweet, try it,” Jaskier says, holding out the red and white striped paper straw.
“Nah, the only sweet thing I need is you,” Eskel mutters, and Jaskier feels like his face is burning up.  Somehow he manages to keep it together long enough for them to finish paying, and they head back to Eskel’s truck, chilly hands tightly clasped together.  They load up the truck and Jaskier leans over to kiss Eskel once they climb inside.  It’s short, just a soft press of lips, but it still makes his toes curl.   They hold hands the whole way home, their hands resting on the beat up bench seat of the truck.
It’s pretty much the perfect fall day.
---
Tags: @halerune @mayastormborn @dani-dandelino @jaskierswolf @littoraly-art @tothedesert @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @theamazingdevilgivesmehope @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @hayleynzlive @holymotherwolf @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @larawrmonster @gryffinqueen-blog @lovelyscot @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @allthequeenshorses13 @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @j-u-s-tmyself  @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @flawney
If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!
57 notes · View notes
bambirex · 8 months
Text
Maybe Loving Is Sharing: Chapter 7
Pairings: Geraskefer, Geraskier, Yenralt, Yennskier
Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg
Additional tags: genderbending, alternate universe- modern setting, polyamory, matchmaking, pining, mutual pining, unrequited love, or is it?, friends to lovers, awkwardness, fem!geralt, fem!jaskier, bunch of helpless sapphics, everyone is confused, crushes, disability, emotionally constipated yennefer of vengerberg, oblivious geralt, oblivious yennefer, oblivious jaskier, everyone is fucking oblivious
Full word count: 11,408 words
Chapter word count: 1,718 words
Chapters: 7/?
Summary: The plan is simple: help your best friend get together with the girl of her dreams. What could go wrong?
Well, when everyone is confused and pining but also very oblivious, pretty much everything.
Chapter summary: Yennefer agrees to spend some more quality time with Geraldine and Jaskier. It goes really well, which is exactly why it's bad.
Author's notes: I know it's been literal months, and I am really sorry, I swear! Life has been insane lately (it still is, but hopefully now it's the good kind), and I also felt somewhat blocked with this story. But here I am, bringing my idiot sapphics back!! Feedback, as always, is very appreciated!!!
Read on Ao3
*
It took about three hours of straight pleading on Jaskier's side for Yennefer to eventually give in.
Why she did, she wasn't completely sure. It was obvious that Geraldine wasn't all that into her, considering how quickly she fled the scene after their date, and for some reason, Jaskier seemed to be absolutely terrified of her. She certainly wasn't gonna get anywhere with either of them.
But for some reason, she still felt drawn to this strange duo. The endearing awkwardness of Geraldine, combined with an insanely sexy, muscular masc exterior and a gentle heart, the talkative, sunny optimism of Jaskier, combined with a strange, cynical sense of humor and adorable looks caught her in a cobweb of very confusing feelings.
The original plan was very simple: she laid her eyes on the sexy vet and immediately decided she would bed her. Which seemed to be going well, she even got a little help from said sexy vet's best friend, who also caught her attention. Actually, Yennefer was sort of hoping their little date would turn into a threesome - to her biggest disappointment, she didn't get to fuck either of them.
And now they were dragging her along to a ranch to try horseback riding, on a "definitely-not-date". Yennefer, despite promising herself she wouldn't try more quality time unless it ended up in sex, went along with it, and somehow, she even felt excited.
She cursed her heart for fluttering inside her chest the way it did when Geraldine walked out of the stable, leading a black stallion. She was simply a vision in her grey tank top that put her thick arms on display and those sinfully tight black jeans that gave Yennefer a perfect view of her round butt. For someone so buff, Geraldine looked adorably shy as she waved at Yennefer with her free hand. Yennefer tried to resist smiling at her, she really did- but she failed.
"Yen," Geraldine's voice wavered slightly. Yennefer swallowed at the nickname, her cheeks warming up. "It's good to see you again..."
"You're not gonna run away this time, are you?" Yennefer asked, with a little bit more venom than intended. Geraldine shook her head, her eyes full of guilt.
"I'm sorry, I know it was rude. It's just..."
"Hi, sorry I'm late!"
Yennefer turned around to see Jaskier strolling in. Her cheeks were slightly flushed from being in a hurry, and a few locks of her hair escaped her loose bun. The sight made Yennefer smile.
It was actually her condition to make Jaskier join them. She actually took a great liking to the sweet brunette, and when she imagined this day, she could only see the three of them together. Whenever it was just her and one of the duo, things weren't going well.
She watched as Jaskier and Geraldine greeted each other with a hug. It lasted a little too long for it to be friendly, Yennefer mused. Jaskier claimed there wasn't anything between them, but Yennefer wasn't completely sure of it. There was an exciting chemistry there, something that intrigued her deeply.
"So, uh," Geraldine said to Yennefer eloquently as they parted with Jaskier, "this is Roach."
Yennefer snorted. "Are you seriously telling me that you named both your cat and your horse Roach?"
"That's the only name she knows," Jaskier chuckled, gently elbowing Geraldine in the side. She gave her that look again, that one full of love. Yennefer has noticed it before. It made something weird tingle inside her chest.
"It's a good name," Geraldine murmured. She smiled at Jaskier so gently, that strange sensation inside Yennefer flared up again.
"The one I ride is called Gordon," Jaskier explained, pulling Yennefer out of her thoughts. "He's a lovely old fellow. Perfect for amateur horseriders like myself."
"How are you feeling today?" Geraldine asked softly. Yennefer found it harder and harder to be mad at her when she was being so kind. "Your legs?"
"They'll handle it," Yennefer replied, "for a couple of hours, definitely."
"Then I'll get you Samantha. She's super calm."
Geraldine handed Yennefer her own horse's reins while she walked back inside to get Yennefer's mare. Yennefer turned to Jaskier with a questioning look.
"Do you guys do this often?"
"Geraldine is a real horse girl," Jaskier laughed softly. "She dragged me here a couple of times, but then I actually fell in love."
"With whom?" Yennefer asked. She was surprised to find her voice missed its usual teasing edge: it was a genuine question.
Jaskier didn’t reply, but the flush on her cheeks spoke volumes. For about the thousandth time that day, Yennefer's chest felt warm with an indescribable emotion.
--
Yennefer never would have thought she would ever enjoy something like this, and yet, here she was, grinning from ear to ear like a fool as she patted Samantha's neck. The horse was the sweetest thing, so patient and gentle. Yennefer hadn't ridden a horse before, but she felt safe.
Maybe that was not only because of the mare, but because of the people she was with. The awkwardness that always lingered around them was nowhere to be seen: being with Jaskier and Geraldine felt natural.
She watched their banter, their easy, familiar dynamic: the way they knew each other so well, understanding each other without words. How different they were, and how well they still worked. Yennefer wondered why there was nothing more than friendship between them, allegedly: they would have made a perfect couple.
She found herself falling into a similarly easy rhythm with them: it was a lot of fun to tease, and be teased by Jaskier. They bantered as if they had known each other for ages, with a gentle playfulness that made Yennefer feel like it was the most normal, most simple thing in the whole world. Geraldine was more talkative than last time; she even cracked a couple of jokes that weren’t exactly the best, but they were still endearing. Yennefer felt herself growing more and more intrigued with the both of them.
It was strange, because the chemistry was right there from the start, with both Geraldine and Jaskier. But something seemed to be missing all along, something that made it impossible for Yennefer to truly click with either of them. Now, it seemed like that missing puzzle piece was slotting into its place: it only truly worked if the three of them were together.
Now, that was lovely, except for one thing, and that realization nearly knocked Yennefer out of the saddle.
Because as she listened to Jaskier’s giggling, as she watched Geraldine murmur gentle endearments into her horse’s ear, she started to understand what that weird feeling inside her chest meant. It was a feeling that Yennefer desperately tried to avoid, and she managed to so far, or so she thought. It has been there all along, lingering beneath the surface, but now it was obvious. Spending time with the both of them in a way that wasn’t as staged as last time, Yennefer realized that she’s started falling for them. And that was dangerous, because that was not how Yennefer planned it. She wanted this to be casual, a fun little game with two insanely hot women who clearly wanted to jump each other’s bones, and Yennefer hoped they would want to jump hers, too. She just wanted passion, searing, burning hot passion that fizzled out a couple days later and then they would all go on their merry ways. That was the safe option- not developing feelings for not just one, but two people at the same time.
“You okay?” Jaskier asked gently, slowing Gordon down next to her. Yennefer forced a smile onto her face.
“Yeah. I guess my legs are just getting tired.”
“We can go back to the stables,” Geraldine offered. “There’s a little café…”
“Yeah, I think that would be the best,” Yennefer said quickly. Her previous good mood turned sour quickly. Suddenly, all she wanted was to go home. It made no sense, because the reason she wanted to disappear was that exact happiness she felt next to her companions.
She saw Geraldine and Jaskier sharing a look from the corner of her eyes, but they didn’t press it further, thank God. Yennefer wasn’t even sure what she could offer as an explanation. Sorry, guys, I only wanted a threesome, but it seems like I caught feelings for both of you?
How would that even work, Yennefer mused bitterly as they rode back to the stables in utter silence. She didn’t fit into this picture anyway. Jaskier and Geraldine were made to be, they were just too blind to see it. Who was she, to come and interfere with their perfect dynamic, to smear filth all over their sweet relationship?
Yennefer never thought herself to be a very kind person, but she wasn’t that cruel. This thing that started out as just fun, was quickly turning serious on all parts – she saw it today, in the way Geraldine gently reached over to fix the way she was holding the reins, in the way Jaskier’s cheeks pinkened when she smiled at her. Geraldine ran away last time because she fell for Yennefer, and couldn’t handle it. Jaskier acted all weird when they were cat-sitting together, maybe she has started looking at Yennefer differently, too.
Fuck it all, this wasn’t a game anymore. There were hearts on the line. And maybe with someone else, Yennefer wouldn’t even care about that. But not with these two.
She closed her eyes, trying to will her heart to stay still when Geraldine helped her off her horse. Her big, warm hands lingered a beat longer on Yennefer’s waist, and she looked at her like she wanted to say something, just didn’t know how. Behind her, Jaskier was uncharacteristically silent, chewing on her bottom lip. Her big blue eyes searched Yennefer’s face, almost pleading. Yennefer couldn’t take it anymore.
“I… I had a lot of fun,” she squeezed out between gritted teeth, already backing away. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Drive safe,” Jaskier called after her softly. Yennefer could feel their eyes on her back as she walked away. She cursed beneath her breath when she felt tears stinging her eyes.
God, what was she supposed to do now?
7 notes · View notes
artistsfuneral · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
I posted 987 times in 2022
That's 2 more posts than 2021!
466 posts created (47%)
521 posts reblogged (53%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@artistsfuneral
@spielzeugkaiser
@selectivegeekwithstandards
@hailhailsatan
@bellathecatastrophe
I tagged 858 of my posts in 2022
Only 13% of my posts had no tags
#reblog - 264 posts
#the witcher - 235 posts
#rambles - 221 posts
#artistsfuneral about the witcher - 185 posts
#witcher - 113 posts
#geraskier - 109 posts
#artistsfuneral draws - 101 posts
#self reblog - 86 posts
#jaskier - 85 posts
#geralt - 85 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#im about to finish my uni stuff and then i will start working on a super long (haha) new fic that i'm very excited about and that hopefully
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
It's Ciri's sixteenth birthday when she asks her Dad for a polaroid camera. Geralt raises an eyebrow at her, the sentence "I'm not a stupid hipster, Daaaad!" engraved in his mind. But it's her birthday, so he can't really say no, can he?
"If you really want one," he says, "then go up to the attic and look through your Mom's highschool boxes. You can have hers."
Ciri's eyes widen in wonder. She doesn't remember much about her parents, most of it comes from stories other people told her. Often being told how much she resembles her mother, Ciri has started to mimic Pavetta - hoping to connect with her in some way.
So,
Ciri spends her morning in the attic. Sitting on the floor and carefully going through some of the boxes that are labeled "Pavetta - senior year". There's a lot of memories hidden in cardboard treasure chests and she takes her time to enjoy a bit of her Mom's life.
She finds the camera. It's a charming old thing, safely put away in a brightly colored shoulder bag that is adorned with stickers and pins and doodles. It's well loved.
She plays around with it for a bit and to her joy it still works. Then she notices the side pocket on the bag where a little stack of photos must've gone unnoticed. Ciri carefully pulls the pictures out and her heart flutters with excitement as she sees her Mom wildly grinning at her, Ciri's father Duny, standing in the background, talking to somebody.
Flipping through the photos she gets a great inside of what her Mom's highschool time must've been like. The best thing about the find, though, are the pictures Pavetta took of Geralt. She knows Pavetta, Geralt and two other friends were a band in highschool, but getting to see it is a whole new experience. To her surprise, her Dad looks kind of cool behind a set of drums.
And then she sees it. Her eyes grow huge and in disbelief she pulls the photo closer to her head. It's a band picture. Her Mom, her father, her Dad, another girl and an awfully familiar face grin back at her.
Ciri does what every teenager would have done. She pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the polaroid, posts it online with the caption
"so apparently my Mom was in a band with leadsinger (at)JaskiertheBard"
Her post goes viral over night. A few days later her favorite singer and songwriter has sent her a chat request.
Ciri accepts.
part 1?
(read full fic here)
1,212 notes - Posted May 16, 2022
#4
What if "I'm from Lettenhove" is a sort of codeword in the royal class for children that have fallen out of grace with their court/family? And the higher your rank in Lettenhove, the worse the thing you have done is?
1,352 notes - Posted April 21, 2022
#3
Jaskier walking through a market place past a pen where a bunch of horses for sale are kept. A horse neighs. Jaskier stops, turns around with a grimace on his face and looks at a chestnut mare. "Roach?" Roach nods. "He's lying in a ditch somewhere, right?" Another nod. Melitele above that horse has always been too smart for his own comfort. "I will have to steal you back now, I guess?" Roach neigs rather dramatically and Jaskier sighs. So much for a calm evening. A few paces behind the guy who sells the (stolen) horses backs away, suddenly having decided that that particular mare is not worth the trouble.
2,058 notes - Posted April 18, 2022
#2
So Jaskier, completely shitfaced, is sitting somewhere on the dirty floor near a tavern in Oxenfurt, when he meets Vesemir for the first time.
He instantly recognizes the old witcher and loudly calls him over, something along the lines of "Hey! Hey you- you, wolf! Papa wolf! Yeah, come on, I need to have a word with you about your son. The- the stupid one-"
Vesemir is obviously not amused, but he comes over nonetheless because for some reason that drunk kid knows him.
Then, Jaskier proceeds to ramble on about Geralt and it gets very close to trash talk, but Vesemir keeps his cool and reads in between the lines. What he finds out is this: Geralt - who up to this point had been his favorite - had somehow managed to break this poor kid's heart, not once, not twice but "at least five times". Said kid had apparently "spent more than half of his life" following his son like a lost puppy. He mumbles something about elves and djinns and then tells this elaborate tale of a golden dragon. "And then he left me on a fucking mountain!" Vesemir for his part would have not believed any of this, if the name Yennefer hadn't fallen. Many of the unreasonable things Geralt does are related to Yennefer.
The old witcher then takes a closer look at the sod on the floor and oh yes, didn't Geralt say something about a bard?
Then suddenly the kid stops mid sentence as if remembering something important. He waves at one of the other young men and loudly asks "Oi Mikael, is there- is there class tomorrow!?" Vesemir doesn't show it but he's kind of shocked. The drunk kid is clearly a student at the Academy, way too young to be traveling with a witcher. What ln earth is Geralt thinking?!
When the other man, for some reason looking as shocked as Vesemir feels, answers the kid's question with "yes", the bardling seems to sober up by a lot. He staggers up, wishes Vesemir a good night and starts to stumble towards Oxenfurt Academy, quickly followed by the other student.
The last thing Vesemir hears before they walk out of side is how the student asks the bard "Does that mean we won't have to write that test tomorrow, professor?"
Professor. Vesemir needs a break.
2,813 notes - Posted February 13, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
"Kaer Morhen Stables, this is Geralt Rivia on the phone, how can I help?"
"Hi, yes um- This is Jaskier, from the uh- cottage down the road?"
"The one with the flowers? Is there a problem?"
"Yes um- You see, this may sound a bit crazy but uh- there's a horse in my garden. My fenced off garden. And while that's not exactly a problem, the last time I checked I didn't own a horse so-"
"Fuck!"
4,589 notes - Posted January 15, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
5 notes · View notes
violette-hue · 1 year
Note
Important info: Bisexual (male match for this please!), She/her
Personality info: Entp, Leo sun, Aries Moon, Leo Rising
Fandom: The Witcher
The Prompt: (Sfw) “Stop looking at me like that. People might get the impression that you’re soft.”
Personality: I can be either two ways when you first meet me. Sarcastic and laid back or a little rocky. Some people at first can see me as a bit of a...well...asshole, but I assure you i'm not that bad. I just come off a little strong sometimes. When you get to know me though, I am someone who is blunt, still very sarcastic, protective, and a little fiery, but also a huge goofball who does dumb stuff. I'm kinda like an onion (gosh I hate using that metaphor.) I have layers and the more you get to know me, the more you'll peel away. I hate being vulnerable and stray away from emotions, so I can be a bit cynical and I am soooo stubborn holy crap, but I am working on that...
-Also one more thing....I'm kinda goof. I can be serious sometimes, then other times i'll do something stupid like climb a tree and then proceed to fall from it, or play fight with someone. I also tend to do funny voices sometimes....so there's that too lol
Hobbies/likes: Lets see here....I did year around, competitive swimming for ten years, so swimming is a passion of mine and forever will be. I now do Martial Arts and i'm a high belt now. I enjoy just physical activity in general, but I also like music. Music is a love of mine. Plus I like simple things such as a good book, writing (I want to be a journalist), horror movies, and going for walks at night....oh and I adore the beach!
Dislikes: Spiders, I am terrified, petrified even of spiders.
Physical features: I'm 5'3...5'4 on a good day, pale skin with brown freckles everywhere, I have very thick brown hair that goes a little past my shoulders and it has a sort of auburn color to it actually?, i'm very skinny, like a twig, very little to no curves, big brown eyes.
(Thank you so much and congratulations on 1k!!)
Fandom: The Witcher (Geralt x Reader)
Tumblr media
Maybe you had been too harsh to Jaskier, but you couldn’t help the sarcastic remark. He had been getting on your nerves the entire journey to the local apothecary. Why he even went was beyond you. Geralt seemed to only trust you to do this small errand. Having Jaskier along felt like this small mission would be compromised somehow.
But at least the bard had shut his mouth. You’d apologize later. Maybe.
He had sulked behind you in the small building as you gathered what Geralt had asked you for. Jaskier reminded of you of a small puppy. Or perhaps a toddler. You pushed your annoyance to the side to get the task at hand completed and hoped it’d be a fast journey back.
It wasn’t until you’d returned to camp that you’d felt some shred of guilt. Though what you said was intended as a joke, it had been harsh. You peaked over at Jaskier. He was frowning down at his food, his normally easy going mood replaced by one of…melancholy? Gods he was so dramatic.
“Is there something I’m missing?” Geralt asked you once you were alone.
You sighed deeply. Of course Geralt would pick up on the sudden change of moods. It wasn’t like Jaskier to be quiet for more than a second. You told Geralt what happened—what you had said. Your fingers found catch on some loose strands of fabric from your leave.
When Geralt didn’t immediately respond, you looked up. You were surprised to see a smile gracing his features. His eyes softened, reflecting the light of the full moon. Your heart tugged, and you suddenly didn’t feel too bad about what you had said. You smiled, a slight blush hearing your neck.
“Stop looking at me like that. People might get the impression that you’re soft.”
3 notes · View notes
echo-bleu · 2 years
Note
5 and ✍️👀 for the ask game! <3
I missed this ask when I answered the others! Sorry 😅 and thanks for asking!
5 is the mute!Jaskier AU that still doesn't have a title so
✍️ How far have you got with it?
It's just under 15k at the moment, but it's mostly made of loose scenes spanning from the Djinn episode to after season 2. I'm actually struggling a little with the beginning: when I came up with the idea, I wanted to write about the early days of Jaskier getting used to being mute, but it turns out that what comes later on is a lot more exciting for me. I might just end up shortening the first part to focus on the rest.
So essentially so far I have:
maybe 1k of the very early days when Geralt is running after Yennefer trying to find a cure and dragging Jaskier behind, and Jaskier is mourning and not in a good state (that's the bit I'm finding hard)
a longer part where Jaskier says stop and goes back to Oxenfurt and learns sign language, with some cool OCs
then I basically jumped straight to after the dragon hunt: Jaskier tutoring Ciri in Cintra, then becoming the Sandpiper, up to the end of season 2
some post-season 2 scenes
So what I might end up doing is make it a series rather than a chaptered fic. In any case it's nowhere near ready for posting, sadly.
👀 Can you give us any sneak peaks?
I've mostly shared bits from the later stuff with Ciri so far, so here's one of the early scene. This is about 4 months after the Djinn.
“You’re coming with me to Kaer Morhen,” Geralt announces when fall start settling in.
It takes Jaskier’s breath away. Not out of pride and love, like it would have last year, or the year before, when he regretfully parted from Geralt as the witcher prepared to head north for the winter. Jaskier has dreamed about seeing Geralt’s home many times, if only because of it would be the ultimate proof of Geralt’s trust in him. But the offer never came, and Jaskier made his peace with that, up until the next fall when it stung all over again.
No, it takes Jaskier’s breath away because it comes now, when Jaskier has become nothing but the useless shadow of his former self, and it comes not from a place of trust and love but from a place of pity and guilt. Pity and guilt that Jaskier can no longer abide.
This isn’t how he wants to see Kaer Morhen. This isn’t the person he wants to be when he finally meets Geralt’s brothers and his respected mentor. It’s barely even about his lost voice anymore – he despises the weak hulk of a person he’s become. And Geralt’s over-protectiveness and insistence on finding a non-existing cure is only making it worse, letting him wallow in desperation and false hopes instead of finding a way forward.
He needs to pick himself up. He needs to find out who he is without his voice, what’s left of him and what he can build with that.
He needs a change, or Geralt’s guilt and his own grief are going to smother him entirely.
From this WIP game
2 notes · View notes
roughentumble · 3 years
Note
I've had this fic idea for the longest time and your post about illusions reminded me of it, basically it's a total ripoff of djinns in spn showing ppl what they want most, very land of the lotus eaters
Jaskier's stuck in this idyllic illusion where he and Geralt are together and everything's perfect, they travel and fight monsters and Jaskier sings songs but Geralt never gets hurt and Jaskier doesn't sleep around, they're together and in love and it's wonderful
And then Jaskier gets ripped out of it, finds out it was all an illusion and he's devastated bc now he's had what he wants most and thinks he'll never have it again, not really, and it's driving him crazy
Geralt eventually takes him to Yen to see if she can help, thinking maybe there's lingering effects of being trapped in whatever illusion Jaskier was put in, and Yen's prodding trying to figure out what he saw in the illusion, what was so wonderful he nearly wants to be put back into it, and Jaskier finally snaps, "He loved me back!"
ohhhhh shit i dig this!!!
97 notes · View notes
fangirleaconmigo · 2 years
Text
Eskel teaches Milva to read.
Milva x Eskel first kiss (rated very very soft)
——-
Ok this is gonna be for me and probably no one else but that’s ok. @on-a-lucky-tide put the idea of Milva and Eskel in my head months ago and I haven’t been able to shake the need to come up with SOMETHING for this inspired pairing. And here we are. My idea for a fic that mayhaps I will write.
—-
So you know how Milva was raised in the woods and can’t read or write? And how it embarrasses her, especially with Geralt, who is so well read and educated?
And you know how Eskel was raised rural in an isolated mountain community?
Ok so, say the Hansa goes back to Kaer Morhen in my alternate history ending of the saga. Of course the wolf witchers all like Milva instantly, because of course they would. She is allergic to bullshit AND she has defended Geralt and Ciri’s life several times over.
To them it would be…ah yes…she is our family. It would just be a matter of her understanding and feeling worthy of that.
So say Vesemir tries to make her feel welcome the best way he can which is via his library and history (history, ie. when everything was better). He finds books on archery and the history of elven bow making and he tells her and her eyes just light up.
But then he plops it down in front of her and her face hardens as she realizes he is expecting her to peruse it. Her cheeks are heating up and she has a resentful comment on her tongue that she knows she will regret.
But Eskel is in the room. And even though it’s been so very long since he has been in her situation, he recognizes it, because you never forget what that feels like.
So without drawing any attention to her, he acts REALLY excited about the book, swipes it and starts to read parts of it out loud.
Milva tries to hide the grateful exhale of relieved breath. It is too early to disappoint or alienate her hosts.
Later that day, she offers to hunt for their supper, and asks if Eskel wants to come since he loves archery too.
He meets her outside and she’s a little surprised at how poorly maintained his bow is for someone who loves archery so much. She tuts over the condition it’s in and he smiles and says maybe his enthusiasm for archery isn’t matched by his skill. Perhaps she will give him pointers.
They hunt together and she finds herself liking him very much. Unlike her friends, (who she loves, of course) he doesn’t talk incessantly about women and sex and god knows what else. He is thoughtful and a little bit serious but he is also quick to smile when she makes clumsy jokes.
He is a capable archer for the task at hand, but he has clearly only learned survival level skills. She would be disappointed at learning she doesn’t have an archery friend after all, except that she really enjoys the opportunities she has to improve his skill with a few well timed pointers. She is surprised by how comfortable she feels with him, and how safe it feels to touch him when she is improving his shot.
They have bagged their kill and are carrying it back. In fact, they are almost back to Kaer Morhen when he says…
“Do you know who taught me to read?”
Her heart jumps to her throat as she connects the dots. He was never excited about archery, he pitied her. She tries very hard not to bite his head off. She must not be an asshole about it. He was kind to her. She is grateful that he covered her ineptitude.
Also, somehow, the thought of hurting his feelings or pushing him away wounds her. So, she manages to exercise restraint.
“And here I thought all you bloody witchers came out of the womb reading ancient bestiaries in elder.”
Ok, she is a little sarcastic. But just a hair. But her heart is still in her throat. She can hear her voice tremble a little and hopes he doesn’t notice.
“Geralt taught me.”
“Geralt? The Geralt of Rivia? Hero of the continent?” She is deflecting again with humor. But it is good natured humor. At least she isn’t being an asshole.
“Yes.”
Eskel tells her that where he grew up, they didn’t have a school. No teachers wanted to live in such a tiny isolated community so poor that they that paid in skinned rodents. So when he came to Kaer Morhen, he was the only boy who couldn’t read. He never wanted to ask for help because the instructors were so large and gruff and fucking terrifying.
He was falling behind and being assigned extra chores as punishment, because the instructors thought he was being defiant when he refused to answer.
Milva’s tension and shame bleeds away as her empathy takes over.
“Bastards.” She mutters.
He was afraid the punishments would get far more severe and he was scared. He knew some boys were punished with the belt and far worse.
But Geralt approached him in their dorms one night and in whispers, offered to teach him. Every night after bedtime they would light a candle and Geralt would teach him until they fell asleep in an exhausted heap.
Geralt had red hair then, he says with a smile.
“No kidding,” she laughs.
“No kidding.”
She is so drawn into his story and so overcome with compassion for the little boys of Kaer Morhen, that when he offers to do the same for her she just nods.
When she visits his room the first time, her heart is beating like a drum. But he makes her feel at ease. They sit by a torch and start at the beginning.
She is easily frustrated at first, mostly from embarrassment. She swears and paces. But he manages to show her that it isn’t a big deal. No one knows anything until someone teaches them.
Little by little she calms down and even begins to enjoy her lessons. They are the brightest spot in her already pretty damn bright days.
It is a revelation to be so welcome here in Kaer Morhen, and to be here not out of obligation or debt. They just all care about each other. She doesn’t think she has ever had this before. At least not since her dad died. She is a part of a real family. They are even all working together to do something sweet for Ciri.
Ciri has been through hell and is still a child and they all want to show her she is loved. They have decided to throw her a surprise birthday party.
By the time it rolls around, Milva proudly offers to write the banners and Ciri’s name on her cake. She has learned enough now to do that. Eskel bakes and he guides her hand on the letters, much like she guided his hand on the bow. She knows how to write them now but the frosting is a bit unwieldy. His hand is large and warm and so is the smile he offers her when she finishes the job and gazes upon the first words she has written that her new family will see.
Ciri shrieks with joy when she sees the banner and decorations and she throws herself into Milvas arms for a hug. Milva has to discreetly wipe the wetness from her face and cough.
Geralt hugs her too and whispers in her ear how beautiful it all looks.
“Eskel taught me,” she says.
Dandelion is near enough to hear, and he says…”so that’s what you were doing all those nights in Eskel’s room. I thought you two were—-“
But he is cut off when she punches his shoulder hard. He is very very dramatic about it but they all happily ignore his complaints.
Somehow Eskel understands her in more ways than one. She knows in her heart of hearts that he will never kiss her, even as the easy affection between them grows into something that yearns. He will never kiss her because he understands that she has to decide even that for herself. She knows that if she never reaches for him, they will be friends like this the rest of their lives.
And while she does cherish the thought of being his friend, she thinks she wants to kiss him too.
So one night after a lesson, they are on a balcony watching the sky. Eskel is leaning back, with a mug of beer sat on the chair between his legs. The shadows are flickering across his face.
It’s her favorite face, she realizes. So she moves his beer and settles in his lap. His look of surprise quickly spreads into an easy smile.
He wraps his arms around her waist but he still doesn’t kiss her. So she leans in and tentatively presses her lips to his. His hands tighten around her waist and he inhales.
She realizes that in her short life, she has never had this. Something that she chose. Something that will not go any further than she wants it to.
Someone who understands her. Someone who looks at her the way that Eskel is looking at her right now. Like she is precious.
“Can we just sit here.”
“We can.”
She leans her head on his shoulder and they sit in silence, watching the moon rise.
47 notes · View notes
popcorn1989 · 2 years
Text
𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕡, 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕪𝕤.
Tumblr media
𝑅𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒:
- Rience doesn't say a word, and you notice his displeasure that he had to go with you. People stare, at you like you have someone by your side, who is constantly murdering people. (Yeah.. Well that's not true....a little bit maybe)
- If you ask him what he would like for dinner today, he shrugs. (great help) you make him suggestions, when in the middle of the conversation, he goes to the odds and ends tables and bored looking around in them.
- You put some candy in the shopping cart and get Rience, to tell you how unhealthy this stuff is. You'll also get to hear that you've been a bit fatter lately. (you grab the candy, away again)
- He won't help you unpack at the checkout. (Why not, you wanted to go shopping) You can pay, too, because most of what you buy he didn't even want.
- At the checkout, he took some peppermint chewing gum and put it on YOUR purchase. You should have that kind of money.
Tumblr media
𝐸𝓈𝓀𝑒𝓁:
- Eskel only agreed because he needed a break from the others. You know that, but you're glad, you don't have to do the shopping alone today.
- He just throws everything in the shopping cart, whether he wants to eat it, or not. (seen and picked up)
- At the meat counter, he really throws in, so much, that it would last for the whole winter. You draw his attention to this and immediately get an announcement, that men require meat. (Clear)
- Eskel is now pushing the heavy shopping cart, and you are really excited, that he is so helpful. But you would like to sink into the ground, when you see how he just runs over others, or pushes away other shopping carts. (god why?)
- At the checkout, you both make a silly face, at the same time, because it costs so much, and you don't have that much money with you. When you said you're bringing back all the meat, you got straight to the next lecture, about meat being good for men.
Tumblr media
𝒢𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓉:
- You like to go shopping with Geralt, he doesn't talk much, sometimes you even feel that he's talking to the groceries, but you don't mind.
- If you ask Geralt to eat, he just says Hmm. Shall we eat noodles today? Hmm, or how about beef? Hmm (yes, wonderful, he just knows , that whatever you want to cook tastes good! (Right?)
- He packs a lot of herbs (fresh and dry) and you think for a moment that their home actually had enough. But when you ask him about it, he just says you can never have enough herbs.
- He pays at the checkout, but still buys gummy bears, chips, beer... a lot of beer has ended up in the shopping cart. But that didn't bother you because, you know that Geralt always pays. (always like)
Tumblr media
𝒞𝒶𝒽𝒾𝓇:
- God, you hate it when he comes with you. (You avoid it as best you can, but unfortunately, it keeps coming up) you are NOT allowed to decide anything in the few minutes.
- He packs a lot of fruits and vegetables, asks you what you would like. Strawberries, why not, you haven't had them, for a long time. You watch him lift some bowls and examine them. None of them, end up in the shopping cart. (Yeah, thanks for that)
- When he meets someone he knew well, it usually ends in a long conversation. That's exactly what you hate, why couldn't this man, not be like Rience, just not talk.
- Before you reach the cash register, you walk past the sweets, you actually wanted popcorn today. (you grab the bag) Cahir turns to you and looks at you in dismay. (you put the bag down again when he told you he's going to work out, with you if you want to eat it, no thanks)
- You share the cost of the purchase, even if you didn't actually have anything to do with it. (Please let Cahir catch, a sniffles next time)
Tumblr media
𝒥𝒶𝓈𝓀𝒾𝑒𝓇:
- You love to go shopping with Jaskier, this is the best time. He talks a lot, and you have a great chat. Unfortunately, the two of you often argue about what you wanted to eat.
- Not a single vegetable goes into the car (this will be worse, with the other boys) but lots of sweets that you both, want to eat tonight at a movie.
- It's always the same with you both, you have your shopping list, but you never look at it. So, your shopping cart fills up with loads of junk, but you forgot what you need.
- At the checkout, you get a fit of laughter, because you didn't expect it to be so much. (It didn't look like much) You put the money together, and you start opening the sweets outside the shopping mall. ( the best day ever)
Tumblr media
166 notes · View notes
samstree · 3 years
Text
A Study in Blushing
In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.
(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)
Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.
read on AO3
“Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”
Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.
The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.
“W...What did you—”
“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”
“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.
Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”
“No...?”
“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”
With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!” he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”
Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”
“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”
“No!”
Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.
“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”
“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”
“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”
 ~~
Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.
Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.
Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.
Although that would be really cute.
“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.
Hmm.
No tripping over words.
“Thank you, dear heart.”
He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.
Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.
Not subtle enough.
“Something on my face?”
“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”
Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.
Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.
 ~~
The snow is terrible.
The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.
Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.
Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—
And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.
“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”
The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.
“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.
“Here, let me.”
Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.
“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”
Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.
“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”
Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”
“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”
He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.
Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.
“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.
Oh.
His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold
Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.
A blushing witcher.
Oh, this is interesting.
“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”
“Um, sure…not cold.”
And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.
If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.
 ~~
Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.
Geralt does blush.
Because of him.
He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.
Jaskier is so drunk on power.
The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!
Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.
Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.
He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.
And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.
The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.
He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.
“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”
Huh, he’s said it out loud.
“Saying what things?”
Well, if it’s out there…
“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”
His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.
“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.
“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”
“Told you what?”
The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.
“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”
Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.
“You are not making sense, Jask.”
“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.
Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.
But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.
“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”
The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.
“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.
The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.
Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.
“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”
Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.
“Geralt, are you—ow!”
He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.
There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.
“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.
“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”
“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”
The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.
“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.
Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.
“You are too good to me.”
“And you are a pain in the ass.”
Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.
“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.
“How drunk are you?”
“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”
“I need to tell you something.”
“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”
“Let me go first?”
The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?
“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”
“Geralt.”
“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”
“I don’t…not…”
“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”
“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”
The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.
“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”
The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.
What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?
“That’s what I was going to say.”
“That you are greedy?”
The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.
“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”
“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.
The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.
“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”
“I’m not?”
“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”
Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”
“Good.”
Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—
“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”
“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.
Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.
Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”
“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.
Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.
For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.
~~
Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰
On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)
Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod
Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3
410 notes · View notes
yandere-sins · 3 years
Note
Hiii, it's my first time here !! I wonder if you could ask my question, if possible of course of Yandere Geralt of Rivia...
Imagine a scenario where the reader is from our world and went to Geralt's world, then the reader find him at him and tells his story and asks for help to return to his home... Of course, as time goes by, Geralt becomes "sick with love " for the reader to the point of becoming Yandere.
Note: the reader sees Geralt as best friend or older brother.
Thanks for your request ♥
»»———————— ♡ ————————««     
You were simply relieved you weren’t alone. 
There were a lot of terrible things that could happen to you, reaching from being mauled by a monster to cut down by a sword, and so, so many gruesome things more. Whatever Geralt saw in you, you were glad it didn’t make him leave you alone to your misery, no matter how strange you were.
Truthfully, you weren’t even a good choice as a squire, but aside from grumbling about your unhelpfulness when it came to battle, Geralt hadn’t driven you away. Despite being rough around the edges, he truly was the hero you needed in your predicament, and for that, you were thankful. 
Whatever you could do, you did, may it be fetching water or helping set up a tent. While the life of a traveling witcher was nothing you wished to pursue forever, you put up with everything you could so that you wouldn’t end up on your own again. The first week spent stumbling through the wild and running from monsters had been enough bad experience in this world for you. Now, your mind was only on one thing: Getting home.
It probably was a luxury to have Geralt’s help in not dying and achieving your goal, but all the more, you were relieved that whatever power made you fall into this strange world had enough mercy to send you this angel of a man. No matter how many dirty, uncomfortable looks you got for being with him whenever you two came into a town, you would endure them, knowing Geralt was the key to make this situation just a memory and send you back home to your family.
Home. It sounded heavenly. 
You sighed deeply, slowly awaking from your slumber. It couldn’t have been long that you fell asleep, the campfire still burning lively next to you. You still felt tired, but something was different than usual. Heavy even.
Pulling down the blanket you had wrapped yourself with, you saw the big arm laying around you, making you realized the heat of a second body in your back. Geralt never slept closer than necessary to you, but without the need to guess, he was definitely sleeping right beside you, spooning you from behind. 
With a flushing heat rising to your face, you were too embarrassed to say anything, even though his arm alone was too heavy to fall asleep with again. He might have accidentally fallen asleep next to you after having some drinks before bed and mistaken you for someone to cuddle up to. But waking him wasn’t an option. Geralt struggled with his sleep enough as it is; you wouldn’t dare to interrupt him and cause a scene. But the reality was very different from what you assumed. 
You heard him take a deep breath as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, not shy to pull away the fabric covering you and pushing his face into your skin. As you listened to him mutter your name, you felt a cold shudder run down your spine, but you tried not to make him notice you were awake. “[Name], [Name], [Name]...” he mumbled, and you bit your lip. The way he said your name always made it sound reproachful, despite you not remembering what you did wrong that day. 
“Look at you, letting your guard down. Don’t you know that I...”
His voice trailed off as you felt him shift suddenly. You reacted quickly, pretending to be fast asleep with your eyes closed and lips slightly parted innocently. Geralt let out a small chuckle before you felt him reach over you, dragging his thumb over your lip. “What are you dreaming about? Your heart is racing.”
Realizing you forgot the first thing about Witcher - their heightened senses - you didn’t know how to help yourself other than stirring a little in your sleep, putting on a frown. Sure enough, that made him halt in his tracks and back away a little, as if he feared you waking up. Only when you settled down again did Geralt relax as well, returning to his spooning position. 
“Seriously...” he kept muttering. “How am I supposed to go on like this? Every time we meet a Sorceress, I am afraid she will have a way to send you home.”
Something about his words gave you a sad impression. Almost as if parting would hurt him, but you weren’t sure if this was just your impression or if the tiny bit of his past that he told you about actually gave him this fear. In your eyes, Geralt was fearless and kept his composure no matter what, but what if you had misjudged him?
“I’d like to keep you all to myself. Lock you up and never let you go. Maybe when we get to Kaer Morhen, I could--”
This time, his voice halted suddenly, and he rose again from behind you. “Are you awake?” he asked, quiet still as if he was hoping you were asleep after all. You simply remained in your pretend sleep, taking an audible breather and hoping it would fool him. He remained in this careful stiffness for a while before he finally drew back. Immediately, you were surrounded by the chilly air of the night as his body disappeared, but before you dared to attempt to move around, you heard more of his mumbles.
“No, I can’t. I shouldn’t... It’s not right...”
What couldn’t he do?
You were ready to blame all the gibberish you had just heard on the mead you two had before bed, but the questions didn’t seem to stop circling your mind. Geralt seemed to fall asleep somewhere a bit further away, while you felt wide awake now. You couldn’t believe that Geralt - of all people! - could have developed any kind of feelings for you. But why else would he be worried about your return? Why would he say those things about locking you up?
Way too freaked out, you tried to make sense of what you had witnessed. Certainly, he didn’t want you to be awake as it went down, but now that you knew, you were left conflicted. Part of you kept getting goosebumps as you remembered the feeling of his face pressed into your shoulder and his words echoing in your ear. The other part tried to justify it with any and all reasons like the alcohol, loneliness maybe. There was no sleep for you after all, and Geralt kept stealing irritated glances at you the following day until he finally asked, “Are you okay?” 
You flinched after being suddenly addressed, not even your exhaustion able to tear you out of your thoughts that still pondered about the last night. “Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, and he contemplated your response for a bit before replying, “There’s this place we should go to next. Maybe we can find some books on portals there.”
“Sounds good,” you chuckled. Nervosity spread inside of you as you hoped he didn’t mean the place that he was talking about last night. 
“I grew up there. You might even be able to sleep in a bed for a change. Kaer Morhen is also safe and...”
After that part, your mind simply shut off as the word kept repeating over and over in your head. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen.
Kaer Morhen, lock up, never let go.
“...and it isn’t far from here,” he finished his explanation, looking at you as he waited for an answer while you could feel the horror showing in your expression. The red flags were so abundantly clear by now, but you absolutely refused to think this way about him. He wasn’t a bad man, he would never... or?
There were a lot of terrible things that could have happened to you on this journey, but you had put all your trust into Geralt to keep you safe. To help you. To be a companion so you wouldn’t be lonely. And until the end, you hoped Geralt wouldn’t turn out to be the monster or the sword you feared so much.
But who could tell what he’d do when he finally had a taste of living out the things he desired?
570 notes · View notes
inexplicifics · 3 years
Note
I'm rereading Only Love Proudly and there is this one line which Milena says about Lambert 'He volunteered to carry me down the mountain, you know'.
And now I can't help myself but imagine how exactly did that happen? Why Milena of all the ladies? How did he ask? Did he enjoy helping her? Did she still smell of fear then?
Would you ever make a ficlet about it? Because it had to be so adorable 💜.
Lambert realizes how fucking stupid it was to volunteer to go along on the "hunting trip" about ten minutes into it, which purely coincidentally is also when that bitch Agata starts whining about her shoes, or something like that. Unfortunately, Buttercup would probably object if Lambert shoved her off a cliff. It would be undiplomatic, and they're supposed to be at least pretending they don't think all of these idiots are wasting their time trying to win Geralt's favor. As if Geralt's ever going to pick anyone but Buttercup, seriously. Even if they can't smell worth a damn, they should be able to see that easily enough.
Once Agata starts complaining, apparently all the other noble bints think they can chime in, and Lambert grits his teeth and runs through every Gnomish swear word he can think of and then tries to translate them into Nilfgaardian, which is complicated enough that he can almost ignore the shrill sounds of the women's voices.
He has to keep an eye on them, though, because if one of them falls over a cliff her own damn self Buttercup will still be disappointed, and he notices after a few minutes that one of them isn't whining at all. She has her jaw clenched like she's biting back pain, but her back is straight and her head is high and she seems determined not to let on that she's unhappy.
It's the pretty little noblewoman who talked to them at that stupid fucking feast in Tretogor. Milena, that was her name.
Huh.
They keep going uphill for another few minutes, and then Geralt, the ass, raises his head like a hunting hound pricking up his ears and then goes haring off into the underbrush. The noblewomen gasp in shock, the other Witchers cluster in around them just in case what Geralt spotted was a wyvern - unlikely but not fucking impossible, wyverns are just barely stupid enough to attack a large group of Witchers if they think there's a chance at easy prey - and then of course Geralt comes out of the underbrush again chasing a damned elk.
He brings it down with his belt knife, because of course he does. Half the noblewomen swoon in horror, and are very surprised when the Witchers don't catch them. One of them tries to catch herself, stumbles sideways, and yelps as she turns her ankle.
Ah, shit.
One of the Griffins offers to carry the injured woman down the mountain, and she has to agree - there's no way she's going back down herself, not on a twisted ankle - but she smells bitterly of fear as he picks her up. And they are supposed to be encouraging these women to want to leave, so Lambert's not surprised when several Vipers and Cats step forward to offer the same "courtesy" to the other noblewomen.
Milena is closest to him, and she...doesn't actually smell afraid. She does smell like she's in a fair little bit of pain, though. Her pretty boots are clearly not meant for actual hiking.
Lambert looks down at her, grimaces, and says, knowing he's probably going to regret this, "Want a lift down to the keep?"
"Oh!" she says, blinking up at him in surprise. "That...would be very kind of you - Lambert, is it not?"
"Yeah," he says, a little surprised she remembers his name. He picks her up carefully, like he's lifting the cub - she doesn't weigh all that much more, really.
All of the other women are sitting very still in the Witchers' arms, looking deeply uncomfortable and smelling miserably and terrified. Milena is tense for a moment, and then, slowly, relaxes, curving more securely into his hold.
"Thank you," she says quietly, and then, with an actual little smile, "Do I weigh anything to you?"
"You really don't," Lambert says, starting down the mountain after the rest of the party. "Like -" he tries to think of a comparison based on what he's seen the servants in Kaer Morhen carrying. "A basket of bread, maybe?"
Milena giggles.
It's...a really sweet sound.
Oh...fuck.
330 notes · View notes
voxmortuus · 3 years
Note
Alright for my witcher request here we are he, geralt, saves her from a robbery and then they kinda fall in love through the journey the rest is completley up to you only two little things if you may and if you like to do so, can it be a nsfw request and she can be a lorialet, pratically a moon creature born by a ray of moonlight, I hope you like it Have a nice day ^^
PAIRING: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader
UNIVERSE: The Witcher
WORDS: 1.1ish K
SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above <3
TRIGGER WARNING(S): Smut | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…
NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love!
IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.
My Master Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist | Taglist
REQUESTS: 500 FOLLOWER EVENT REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN UNTIL AUGUST 15TH!
Tumblr media
Day after day, you tried to figure out how to thank Geralt for saving you from the men who tried to rob the store you were in. You were just a wanderer, just passing through. You didn't know where you were going, let alone where you would end up. Everything seemed like such a mess until that night. Then it was all painted clear. It was the moment you looked up at him wrapped in his arms you felt right at home. It was like your stars had aligned.
He very reluctantly let you follow him on his journey to wherever the road takes him. Watching him fight creatures, tending to his wounds, and fighting to fall asleep. You cooked for him, washed his clothing while you could. He hunted while you cooked and gathered.
At first, he didn't want the company, he didn't need it, but over time he was thankful for the company, someone to talk to, someone to take care of him, someone to take care of. It was like having a journey wife without the attachments or complications. Admittingly, the company was pleasant, and you enjoyed every moment of it.
As time went on, you and Geralt grew closer. You got used to each other's banter. He got used to your moon gazing. He got used to traveling at night while you talk to the moon. You remember the conversation you had with him, the one where you had told him how you were born.
"A literally moon ray?"
"Yes, a literal moon ray. The moon is my mother, and my father."
"Your mother AND your father?"
"Yes."
"Uhuh."
Chuckling, you look at him as he stops to set up camp for the night. Getting off your horse, you tether her to a tree and help him get things situated for the night. You gather the wood for a fire and set it up so he can light it, and you collect a few things off of your horse. Looking up at him as he walks to the fire. Setting up two tents, you smile at him. Biting your lip, you let out a soft breath, thinking about him.
"What?" He asks.
"Nothing. Just watching you."
"Mmm." He grunts.
Shaking your head, you sit by the fire, looking up at the moon as you hand Geralt a loaf of bread. Taking a piece of your own, you pop it into your mouth, watching the sky. Geralt glances over at you, watching you. He smiles, looking over you as you pop another piece of bread into your mouth. He stops a moment and glances back up. He goes to his tent and watches you from a distance.
You stand up and begin to dance under the light of the moon. You move to a piece of land that was in front of a lake. As you dance, you sing to the moon softly. Hearing you, he peeks his head out of his tent and observes you. You make him wonder, you make him curious, you make him question so many things. You make him question love, life, and his own emotions.
As you dance, you slowly strip down, tilting his head and twisting his body to watch you- Geralt licks his lips. His eyes looking over your body as the moon bounces off your skin. You spin around- he watches as your breasts bounce. He adjusts his pants a bit, and he goes from observing you to intently watching you. Watching every bounce, every spin, every bit of you that the moon hits.
The more you move, the more your hands graze over your body, the more he falls for you, more than he already was. He was enthralled by you, the way you moved, the way you touched yourself, the way the light hit you. He quietly got up, stripped down, and made his way to you. Picking you up and carrying you into the water.
"Geralt!" You squeak.
"Shh." He tells you.
You look at him arching your brow and taking in a deep breath the moment your body touched that water. You screech and cling to him.
"Cold! Geralt! Cold!"
"Well, how about I warm you up?" He smirks, moving deeper into the water.
"Geralt, did you just suggest what I think you just suggested?" You arch your brow looking at him.
"If you have to ask, yes."
"First rule of survival." You chuckle.
"Which is?" He looks over your face.
"Naked and close Geralt... Have you seriously never heard of this?" You shake your head, chuckling.
"If I did, I wouldn't have to ask. What about friction? Is that in the rules?"
"Geralt, shut up." You state, leaning in and kissing him deeply, pressing your body against his.
He groaned against your lips, and with little to no effort, he pulled you closer to the tip of his thick cock and slid you down on top of it, using the water as easy guidance. You let out a soft whimper and grip around his cock tightly, your legs wrap around him, your hands grip into his shoulders, and you nip at his lip.
As he uses the water to guide you and you let out a soft moan with each thrust. Never feeling anything quite like him before, your breathing staggered, your groans pitched, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"You feel so good, Geralt... Better than I imagined."
"You've imagined?" He questioned.
"Shut up, Geralt." You state kissing him again to keep him quiet.
As he thrusts into you using your body and the water to guide you, he grunts and groans with you. Picking up the pace, your body shakes and trembles with so much want and need. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you help move with him, guiding him to that sweet spot. He lets out a groan as he grips at your ass tightly.
"Fuck." He groans.
"Indeed. Faster Geralt, faster." You pant.
As he starts to go faster, your moans echo off the water. You grip tightly at him before you begin to shake again, your lower muscles gripping around his thick member as you feel him press into you. You move your body in a way that makes your swollen bud rub against his body, causing some friction. You groan with him, and you hear his growl.
"Oh, Geralt! Oh, fuck!" You whimper.
Your moans picked up as you move faster with him. He guides you harder, slamming into you, the water rippling around you. You grip his shoulders tighter, and you begin to shake.
"I'm going to cum, Geralt!" you moan against his skin.
It didn't take very long before you both came together. You look over his face and kiss him deeply.
"Thank you, Geralt."
"You're welcome?" He asked.
You simply smile and walk out of the water to your tent after gathering your clothing. He watches you tilting his head, he stayed in the water a moment before he got out and followed suit. When he got to the tents he stopped and climbed into yours and laid behind you and pulled your hips closer. Biting your lip you press yourself against him and move him to rest between your legs as you start to move your hips.
"Again?" You asked.
"Mmm." He responds.
305 notes · View notes
herroyalbubbliness · 2 years
Text
MINE
Family...
Tumblr media
Photo Credit: IG @netflixgeeked
Goes back to what I always say, family by blood is overrated. Whoever is putting in the work, loving, caring about one is who I call family blood related or not. Ciri's father is trash. Yennefer's stepfather was trash. Geralt's mother, trash too. We don't know a lot about Jaskier's background but he has found a family too, they all have.
One thing I love about Geralt and Yennefer is they have this weird kind of trust but at the same time are fully aware of what the other is capable of. I call them the perfect ying-yang. They are not blinded by love. Their dynamic is one I enjoy and I'm particularly invested in.
The way Yennefer's face lights up at the unicorn scene as she says I'm a beacon of purity, really warmed my heart. It was like the world stood still for a moment. Her smile was soft, genuine, innocent, so bright it could light up a room, immaculately beautiful, and that split second of sheer joy and happiness, that comes from deep within before the guilt of what she was about to do crept right back. It was one of those moments you forget all the troubles you have been in and the ones about to come.
When Ciri asked Yennefer about Geralt and she goes on about longing, regret, hope, and fear, and Ciri is just like so you love him too.
Lilac and Gooseberries
Yennefer: How is this possible
Geralt: I don't care
When Geralt addressed her as dear friend, I laughed so much. And then he had the nerve to call Istredd her other dear friend, it was hilarious.
I think I got a bit of shyness as he introduced Yennefer to Ciri which was cute because Geralt is anything but shy.
It also reminded me of a scene in Killing Eve when Konstantin (also played by Kim Bodnia) was hitting the blender, saying all old friends together, sarcastically of course! Haha!
I loved how Ciri and Yennefer were introduced to each other, I think it was just perfect in explaining who exactly she was and what she meant to Geralt without words said.
Of course, she cared about her power. In such a violent world, there is no convenient time to lose one's powers at all.
I think it was interesting to see Yennefer try to cope without her powers not just in survival, but also in what it meant to her essence. And in the final moment as she slashed her wrists, even if she had died, she would have been satisfied because she had finally filled the void of a child with Ciri.
Yennefer is loyal to herself and the people she loves and that's what I love most about her. She understands the dynamics in the sense of how the different authorities are only out to use one until they are not of use anymore.
"Betrayal doesn't depend on how or how much you love someone. It depends on the magnitude of the dilemma before you."- Berlin in Money Heist
I do not condone Yennefer's intentions to sacrifice Ciri but I understood it.
Yennefer struggles with the feeling of not being enough which stems from her childhood trauma, abuse. Someone also pointed out the parallel between slashing her wrists in season one and season two and that broke my heart.
Four marks
I dreamed of becoming important to someone someday.
This is a woman who had given up on legacy, the hope of having a baby, life in the finale of season one. And even said if she died, that will be okay as she had lived multiple lifetimes to which Tissaia said her power could be her legacy.
Except she didn't die, and the one thing she had, chaos, which she described as her sight and a life force that makes one feel alive was gone too.
Desperation and the need to feel.
Now one may ask, but Ciri is a child, Geralt's for that matter and promising legacy, so why do it?
Out of the three women, she held out the longest.
I find it interesting how Voleth Meir manipulates them using their pain and desires against them, telling them it is what they deserve. Showing Yennefer, not just her trauma but also painting a life she desired (with Geralt and the baby) only to watch it burn and disappear in smoke, using them to make fun of her. The sick manipulation makes the psychological torture of it all heartbreaking.
Three women that have been put down many times, Francesca as an elf, you can imagine. Fringilla is abused as a mage in training, tossed from one king to another as we know how unstable the leadership of Nilfgaard is. And Yennefer, abused by her own family, almost killed by the king she served covering up one atrocity to the other and the wrongs go on and on. So it's not entirely surprising that when a shiny gold-plated promise of power is presented whether that is the live birth of a pure elf or to finally have true power and not just be seen as timid or to have one's chaos back.
Geralt: Nowhere is safe now. You can't run from the world. You can't hide from it. But you can find power and purpose. A chance to survive the horror.
We see how she stumbled in the dark (without her chaos). I felt her painful scream in this scene, juxtaposed with Geralt's monologue to Ciri about finding purpose as we see her struggle in opening a portal, no way forward in sight.
But she tried, knowing how selfish Yennefer can be, she held on. But, in the end, her pain, desperation, and selfishness got the better of her.
Jaskier: Oh, no, well, obviously we'll kill her. We'll definitely kill her. I just haven't found a good enough jabbing stick yet. But what if she's changed too? People do stupid things when they think they're trapped in a corner, Geralt. And they say stupid things. That's what friends do. They come back.
And Jaskier was right because, at the dying minute, she didn't go through with it. I think she had been fighting the internal battle the moment she knew Ciri was his child surprise.
Her facial expression in that split second showed, she realized this was going to be harder than she thought. She had her doubts. She kept avoiding Geralt's eyes when he asked certain questions and drank from her cup because she was nervous and lying. The moment she knew who Ciri was to Geralt, she knew this was going to be harder than she thought.
In talking to Ciri and helping her channel her power, she found something greater than her power, purpose. And she faced her fears of the possibility of never regaining her chaos or being able to feel and finally won her internal battle when she didn't go through it.
She realized everything she ever went through was for a reason and so she could teach someone who will not have to walk the path alone as she did. I think this growth was necessary for herself and also for the role she was going to step into, as a mother figure.
Geralt was very justified in his anger and MINE, remains one of my favorite lines. The anger, protection of his daughter and I think at this point, he had fully accepted/realized that he was a father to Ciri just as Ciri had admitted that he was the father she never had.
The betrayal wasn't just in the fact that she intended to sacrifice Ciri, but in that she knew who and what she meant to him and she still went along with it anyway.
In season three, I expect some work especially from Yennefer in rebuilding the trust she has broken...
117 notes · View notes