#Insecure Jaskier

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 139

Geralt has noticed some... Things... About his traveling companion, Jaskier. Troublesome things. Like how he's almost certainly of faeblood. It's just little things he does or says or is that make Geralt's imaginary radar go off. He never uses iron utensils, He is truthful to a fault, He's mischievous and lustful, He never breaks a promise, not in an honorable way, but almost in a way as if fate is forcing his body to complete whatever he promised, no matter what. He's also gorgeous. Even in times when the road should've worn him down. Where there should be dust or grime, Jaskier somehow still shines like a freshly polished jewel. And don't even get Geralt started on the impossibility of Jaskier's freakishly vibrant blue eyes. That is NOT human! There are always wildflowers when Jaskier walks in the woods, even sometimes when they are out of season. Trees seem to bend toward him, always making a cover for the rain to keep him dry. When he went swimming, Geralt swears the water looks cleaner afterward. One time Geralt got tired of human-safe food, and decided to cook their dinner that night differently. He cooked one serving all the way, safe for humans, and one only a little, still nice and raw, unsafe for humans. And yet Geralt came back from feeding Roach to find Jaskier happily chowing down on the raw one. Geralt went to warn him, but stopped. Could Jaskier really not tell the difference? Surely the texture and taste was different... And then Jaskier was done. Geralt waited a few days, just sure Jaskier would fall ill, as humans usually did when eating food Geralt has learned is unsafe for them, but Jaskier didn't fall ill. In fact, he seemed healthier than ever. Which could only mean he isn't human. When Geralt talks to Jaskier and hints about knowing however, Jaskier doesn't seem to realize. Which means he must not even know. Geralt paces around camp. How is he to break the news to Jaskier that Jaskier has fae in his blood? Perhaps his mother cheated, perhaps one of his parents were a changeling, perhaps a grandparent wasn't what they said they were, perhaps he, himself, is a changeling... Jaskier returns from a bathroom break and cocks an eyebrow at his witcher pacing around camp like a restless animal. "Geralt? Darling, what are y-" "Jaskier, you're fae." Geralt blurts. Fuck. That is not how he wanted to break the news to poor Jaskier. Jaskier is standing there, face paling, eyes wide, breath coming in short rasps. It's difficult news to deliver, and Geralt did it insensitively. Jaskier seems to be panicking. Geralt will help him, will comfort him. Fae or not, that's his Jaskier. Jaskier is freaking the FUCK out. Geralt found out he's fae! Fuckfuckfuck! He thought he was so good at hiding it! Sure, there were a few slipups here and there, as there is with any big secret, but he really thought Geralt was none the wiser! He should've known the monsterhunter would recognize a monster when he saw one. Now Jaskier must decide if he'll die by Geralt's hand, or try to outrun the witcher, as surely no man wants to be companions with a member of the trickster faefolk.

[spielzeugkaiser]

I am back for a hot second with the baby! Let's be real, Geralt gets a lot of heat in this au, but I do think he was very clear about what he could and couldn't be for Jaskier when they started this thing. Listening to this song later, and realizing that Jaskier was already in love with him at this point ... uff. Also a song about sacrifices in this au, from Jaskier??? *chef's kiss* also let's not think about essi in this au let's not let's just ignore this

[secondstar-acorn]

“you’re not his friend. you’re tagging along to milk one last song from him when he dies” “how dare you. …. I’d milk his death for three songs at least. maybe an epic poem” heehee haha but jaskier that hurt your feelings i can tell 🤨

[magdelanesingerin]

Throwing Stones

It’s nearly 11 when Jaskier finally comes floating through the front door of their apartment, tipsy and content and already dreaming of slipping into bed with his boyfriend and drifting off to sleep as he kicks off his shoes and slings his jacket to the floor before picking it up and hanging it dutifully from it’s hook. 

“I’m home, love! Sorry, we got a little carried away, ughhh, I think I drank toooooo many mojitos. They’re just so damn good, that place sticks a whole stick of sugar cane in there as a garnish, you know? I fucking love them, makes me feel like a, a goat or a happy chipmunk or something, just chomping on sugar cane, arng arng arng,” he says playfully biting at nothing as he rounds the corner into the kitchen to see Geralt standing over the sink rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher. He doesn’t turn, and it takes Jaskier a moment to take in the tension along the line of his shoulders. 

“You didn’t need to wait up, Ger. Victoria says hello, by the way!” he says, and sidles up behind his boyfriend to wrap his arms around his waist and bury his face in the man’s broad back. “Alright, love?” he mumbles into the soft weave of Geralt’s t-shirt. Geralt makes a gruff, vague noise and doesn’t relax into his hold. Jaskier continues to cling like a burr as Geralt bends to put the last of the plates in the dishwasher, then straightens with a sigh to flatten his palms on the counter and hang his head. 

“I called you. Texted.”

“Hmm? Ahh, shit, my phone was on silent…ohh look at that, you sure did,” Jaskier says pulling his phone out of his pocket and blinking at the missed messages owlishly. Oops. “I was just across the street, my love, you could hit the bar with a rock from here. I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“It’s fine,” Geralt says shortly, and pulls away to head toward the bathroom. Jaskier frowns, feeling cold and off balance for a moment before he shuffles after Geralt to lean against the wall next to the closed door. 

“I get the feeling that it isn’t fine,” he calls over the sound of running water and the swish of a toothbrush. “Love?” Geralt doesn’t answer, brushing by him on the way to the bedroom. Jaskier huffs in frustration, letting his head fall back into the wall dramatically. The moment feels precarious, wobbling on the edge of a fight. He could let it go, could let Geralt clam up and go to bed and not push it and…who the fuck is he kidding? He can’t do that. 

“Geralt?” he asks expectantly, trailing along behind. 

“It’s fine, Jask, just drop it,” Geralt mutters and climbs into bed. 

Jaskier snorts and jumps onto the mattress spread-eagled with his face right next to Geralt’s. 

“Yeah, no, that’s not happening,” he says to Geralt’s stubborn glower, smoothing his fingers over his boyfriend’s furrowed brow. “You’re upset, and I’m not going to just ignore it.” 

Geralt grimaces and rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling in silence. Jaskier rests his palm over Geralt’s chest, running the worn fabric between his fingers and humming softly, waiting with as much patience as he can muster and trying to keep his mind from spiraling. The silence stretches on before he feels Geralt’s ribs expand under his hand like a bellows as he finally opens his mouth to speak. 

“It’s stupid.” 

“Alright. Tell me anyway.”

“I…got into my own head. I know you and Victoria used to…it’s… fuck,” he grumbles in obvious frustration, rubbing at his eyes with a hand that trembles slightly. Jaskier sits up on one elbow and looks down at his boyfriend, alarmed. 

“Geralt,” he breathes. “It was just a few drinks. We haven’t seen each other in years, we were just catching up. I would never –”

“I know that. I know,” Geralt growls shortly. “I told you, it’s stupid. I know you wouldn’t cheat, I trust you, I just…”

Jaskier scoffs, shaking his head and trying to ignore the surge of hurt in his chest. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard from his lovers before, of course. The accusation, the judgement, the assumptions, it’s all very familiar. He just never thought he’d hear it from Geralt, and the pain of it makes him angry.

“So, I didn’t answer my phone and you just assumed…fuck, Geralt. You know I’m in this with you. Only you.” His voice is louder than he intends, frustrated and sharp. Fuck, he’s tipsy and he’s fucking this up.

“But it’s not like you never—I know you’ve– fuck , Jaskier, can we just drop it?” Geralt bites out, halting and harsh. 

Jaskier hisses and rolls over to sit on the edge of the bed facing away, fists clenched on the quilt. He tries to bludgeon his brain into coherence as he speaks, jaw clenched and aching.

“Oh, I’m a known slut and slept with married people in my twenties, so obviously I’d go fuck an old friend in a bar bathroom fifty feet away from the apartment I share with my boyfriend, the love of my life, the man that I’ve committed myself to,” Jaskier cries scornfully, then forces himself to take a slow breath, releasing is slowly and counting to center himself before he speaks again. He knows he’s being unfair, but the idea of Geralt doubting him, after all they’ve been through, burns.

“I know she cheated on you, Geralt. I know it hurt you, that infidelity like that really fucks you up,” he says carefully, trying to lower his voice, soften his tone, imagining the neighbors on the other side of their thin apartment walls hearing every word. He’s not sure how successful he is. “I like sex, and I won’t apologize for that. And I haven’t always been particularly thoughtful about who I fuck. I probably should have been, but I don’t regret who I am, who I was. But that was a long time ago, Geralt, and I’m not Yen . Your trust means everything to me and I just… fuck .”

The tears that he finds himself choking on are a surprise. This is not at all how he pictured this night going. He glances back to see Geralt sitting curled up over his knees with his hands buried in his hair, looking miserable. 

“I know . I, I…this is why I didn’t want to say anything. I know it’s fucked up, it’s stupid, that you would never…” There’s a long silence broken only by the sound of Jaskier’s sniffles and Geralt’s wheezing, panicked breaths. 

“You deserve better than this. I don’t know how to be with someone, how to trust again. You’ve given me no reason to doubt you, and–fucking shit. I’ll go, if you want me to,” Geralt says, and he sounds so forlorn, so anguished that Jaskier can’t help but roll back toward him, pulling his hands gently away from where they clutch at his hair and wrapping him up close to his chest as they fall back to the bed in a pathetic huddle. 

“Not a chance,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into Geralt’s back. “I’m keeping you, you ass.”

“Are you sure? I should probably just run off into the woods and be a hermit. I’d be better at that,” Geralt mumbles weakly into his neck, wry and dark.

Jaskier chuckles into Geralt’s hair, a wet and helpless sound.

“God, we’re a mess, aren’t we,” he sighs. 

“Yeah.” 

They lay curled up in each other, breathing and taking comfort in each other’s warmth, muscles slowly relaxing.

“Not nearly as messy as Victoria and her boyfriend, though,” Jaskier smirks eventually, breaking the quiet. “You would not believe the drama, Geralt. Woof. He stole her TV when they broke up. And her couch. And half of her spice cabinet, of all things. He apparently always does this , hardly buys anything for himself. Just…furnishes his whole life with the stuff he takes from his exes, can you imagine?” Geralt snorts. “She said they were moving back in together, but that she’s going to put her name on all her favorite stuff first,” he says, giggling. Geralt’s shoulders shake with repressed laughter, and Jaskier pulls him closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Makes me feel extremely well adjusted.” 

“We’re doing great.” 

“We really are,” Jaskier grins and pulls Geralt’s face up to kiss him, long and soft. “Well. We’ve already scandalized the neighbors by shouting at each other. Want to lean into it?” he asks with a suggestive waggle to his eyebrows. Geralt groans and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, and the way he rolls over to press Jaskier into the bed suggests that he’s not nearly as reluctant as he pretends. 

The neighbors probably hate them, but who cares. Jaskier has more important things to worry about. 

(also on Ao3)

Thank you to @dapandapod for being my favorite beta who refuses to believe she's good at it! <3 <3 <3

[kingthunder]

trying to nail the characterization i like for geralt and jaskier is like trying to balance on one of these bitches

[dreamofbecoming]

anyone else thinking about how jaskier said he was scared that one day the muses would stop speaking to him, immediately after which a literal muse of undisclosed origin with unstoppable deus ex machina powers showed up to not just speak to him, but also save his life, and provide him with completely original, proprietary inspiration and insist that no one else alive could possibly do it justice?

[aeide-thea]

wot show is so obsessed with architecture and tbh i'm not mad about it???

[misscalming]

They just like me fr *sobs*

[eggcompany]

To travel from a heart to heart and back again (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/337084087-to-travel-from-a-heart-to-heart-and-back-again?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=EggCompany&wp_originator=zT4zo6yMwne%2F3EHhTdHiSNVmsHc8YQTJHl7WBvlk4NOnmb1iLcjBJx6KdoXx%2B%2B6D%2BwBWSc0L3SEjyhNyWLmL2x3Q%2B3xFkDAVY%2B%2Byz2OtM95zD0wZwCTJPjMRN1EYsG3Y Count Julian Pankratz, a chronically ill man who has more love than he knows what to do with with his short life. That was until he met his new nursemaid, a mysterious new man in town, Geralt. They grow to love each other, each thriving off each other, each learning to love, to live, to truly feel alive because of each other. Geralt had been around for so long he didn't even know he could love. Julian had been convinced no one would ever love him. Soulmates, they were crafted for each other at their very cores. But unfortunately destiny had other plans. Julian gets sick, he grows weaker and weaker, and he leaves Geralt. The white haired man doesn't know what to do with his empty heart, empty hands, and wish only to bring his one love back. There was only one person for him in life. Julian. And he was dead. Or is he...? One stranger's trek up a mountain a few hundred years later might just change Geralt's mind.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 126

In place of August Fourteenth, Promptapalooza 7/ Geralt knows he has a soulmate when he first hears a small voice ask him what his name is. He doesn't respond. He's not humoring destiny (that bitch) or fate (that cunt). He's not going to respond.

It's been a few years and occasionally the voice still speaks to him.

"Are you real?" "Do you hate maths too?" "I fell earlier and really hurt my knee. Today's been bad. what about your day?" "I had a nightmare last night, but thinking of you helped." "When we're grown ups one day and we get married, we'll have flowers at the wedding, right?" "Do you like music?"

And Geralt never answers. He won't link this innocent child to his wretched, wretched life. He won't link them to a murderer.

Another few years go by, and unfortunately the voice won't shut up.

"Still not talkin', huh? That's fine! I can fill the silence easy enough! Let me tell you alllll about my day!"

He's temped to use their connection to tell his soulmate to stop talking, but he doesn't want to expose himself.

…

And he doesn't want to hurt them.

But them telling him a long rambling story about their walk in the woods that day and how a squirrel scared them right in the middle of Geralt fighting a leshy wasn't exactly helpful.

A few more years pass, and the voice still speaks to him. It's gotten deeper, so Geralt suspects it's a boy. Almost a man, but not quite.

"Father yelled at me again. If you care. I hope whoever you are, you have a better home." "Are you dead? They didn't give me a dead soulmate, right?" "Why won't you talk to me?" "i don't think anybody likes me. Not even you. You never speak to me. I wish you did." "I'm thinking of leaving. If there was any time to speak up and tell me who you are or where you reside, it'd be now." "Please talk to me." "I dreamt of you again last night. I keep doing it, recently. Sometimes you're a woman. Sometimes you're a man. Sometimes I can't really tell. Sometimes you're sweet and shy, sometimes you're flirty and crass. Sometimes you have brown eyes. Sometimes they're green. Sometimes they're blue. I wish I knew."

They're yellow. Hideous and grotesque. Inhuman. The boy shouldn't wish to know them.

"I left. I finally did it. I left just last night. I swear, wherever you are, I'll find you."

Another few years pass, and the voice is still there, but it's much rarer to hear. Geralt feels relief knowing he's finally giving up on Geralt and will find himself a better life.

"I haven't been doing a good job of finding you. But you haven't really given me any hints. Do you not want me to find you? Do you really want me to stay away?"

And Geralt finally responds to the man, for the first time ever.

"Yes."

"IT'S YOU! You responded! You're real! You're actually real! I do have a soulmate! I knew it! I knew I wasn't unlovable! Where are you? I'll-"

And Geralt hears the exact moment his rambling thoughts come to an abrupt crashing halt, as he processes what Geralt agreed to.

"Oh."

And that's the last message he gets from his soulmate's voice. It's what Geralt wanted all along. But after a solid year of hearing nothing from him, Geralt will admit he misses him. He misses the chatter.

It's the beginning of the very next year that he meets the bard Jaskier, who stubbornly fights tooth and nail to incorporate himself into Geralt's life.

He fills the silence left by Geralt's soulmate. It's nice to have prattle back. He doesn't tell Jaskier that, of course. Jaskier is young and foolhardy and jumps from bed to bed, but soon enough, he'll want to settle down with his own soulmate and he'll leave Geralt. Geralt isn't looking forward to the silence returning, but he likes Jaskier. He'd go through any silence for him.

It's Jaskier's fifth year traveling with Geralt. They sit across from each other around a campfire as Geralt roasts some pheasants and and Jaskier stares despondently at the notebook he's not writing in.

And then Geralt hears him. His soulmate's voice in his thoughts again.

"I've fallen in love."

And Geralt is happy for his soulmate. Because - Geralt glances at Jaskier for a moment and smiles to himself - He has too.

"I don't know if you hate me. Or if you're dead. Or if you've found someone else, but whatever it is, I hope you can be happy for me. I love him. I really, truly do. I love Geralt with everything in me."

And Geralt jolts and whips his head to look over at the bard.

"Jaskier?" He sends through the connection, and watches as his bard's eyes grow wide with shock.

"…You love me?"

[spielzeugkaiser]

okay we've seen geralt react to tiny milek but can we also see little ciri react to baby milek 👉👈?

Not quite a baby anymore, but I'll come to that one day!! But they are siblings 🥺 (in all versions of that universe honestly)

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

The White Wolf

Kinktober 2024 - Day 9

Pairing: Insecure!Geralt of Rivia x Healer!Fem!Reader

Kink: Praise Kink

Word Count: 1700+

Summary: Jaskier comes to you with a half dead Geralt and you heal him, and maybe your kind nature can see past his rough exterior.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, creampie, slow sex, soft sex, light nipple play), kind!reader, Jaskier's usual self, Jaskier interrupting, Geralt falling in love

a/n: This was my first time writing for Geralt and I hope I did okay writing his personality, and maybe my canon thoughts came out. I hope you all enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

The door to your shop banged open and a Bard carried a silver haired man covered in blood over his shoulder. You immediately stood up to look at the two men as they entered. The Bard dropped the large man onto the cot in your office. 

“Help him! He’s about to die!” The Bard wailed gesturing at the unconscious man on the cot. The man had lacerations on his abdomen, a few cuts on his forehead, and a stab wound on his thigh. “Why are you just standing there?! Help him!” 

You rounded on the Bard, “ Shut up! If you want me to help him, then sit down and let me help him.” You huffed quickly grabbing your shears and slicing his armor off and tossed it away to get a look at his wounds. He had one deep slice on his side, a few flesh wounds, and a deep stab on his thigh. You cut his pant leg off and grabbed a bucket of water and a rag. “This will be a while. Relax, Bard.” You huffed and started working on the silver haired man’s wounds. 

The sun had been down for a few hours when you had finished working on the silver haired man. He was stitched up and wrapped in bandages. You had moved him with the help of the Bard, who was named Jaskier as you learned, to your bed so you could clean the cot. You were changing the sheets and Jaskier was asleep in your office chair, when you heard heavy footsteps coming from the side room. You turned to see the silver haired man standing in only his under cloth pants. It was the first time you had seen his eyes, they were as bright as the sun and filled with apprehension as he looked at you. His silver hair was in loose strands around his face and he limped his way into the front room. 

You gave him a soft smile as you finished smoothing out the cover sheet. “You’re up.” You said with a tinge of surprise, “I didn’t think you would be up for a few days.” You hummed as you went to the barrel of fresh water and fixed him a glass. You grabbed a vial from your cabinets and handed both to the man. 

“Jaskier brought me here.” He said more as a statement than a question, and he took both of the glasses from you. He popped open the vial and drank it down and did the same with the water. You helped him sit on the cot and you sat across from him and checked his vitals and his deeper wounds. You were surprised to see that his less serious wounds had healed up completely, just leaving white scars in their wake. 

“Jaskier informed me of your healing properties but I have to say that I am still surprised.” You hummed as you finished your examination. “You are impressive, Wolf.” 

He locked eyes with you and he looked like he wasn’t believing a thing you were saying, “I’m not impressive.” He said in a gravelly voice, “If you know what I am, then you know the truth.” He huffed at you and stood back up. “Me and Jaskier have to go.” He stated as he looked around for his over clothes. “Where are my clothes?” 

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, “They’re on the line outside drying. They were covered in blood so I had the Bard wash them.” You said as you moved to block his way from leaving. 

“Get out of my way.” He grunted at you. 

“No. You came into my office half dead, almost 12 hours ago. You will stay here till you can walk straight.” You huffed and tugged him down onto the cot. “When it’s morning, I’ll have the Bard go out for food and supplies. You will try to rest or I’ll tie you to the damn bed.” You sighed and had him lay on the cot. “Understand?” 

He let out a deep sigh, “Fine. I’ll rest.”

Early morning peaked through the curtains as you sent Jaskier off to town on your horse. You handed him some money and a list of things to get while in town. To be honest, you just wanted him out of the house cause he sang everything and if he didn’t leave you would’ve killed him. Geralt woke up and you redid his dressings and made sure his wounds were healing properly. 

You sat in your desk chair and wrote in your journal about the previous day. Geralt stared aimlessly out the window as he messed with the sheets. You closed your journal and walked over to the cot with a vial of healing medication. “Here.” You said as you handed him the vial. 

“I don’t need it, I’m good.” He said and pushed the bottle away. “I should be ready to get back on the road when Jaskier gets back.” 

You sighed and pulled the vial away, “Okay.” You sighed and set the bottle to the side. You locked eyes with him and he reached up gently to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back up to his bright eyes. “I’ve heard your stories, Wolf. My mother used to tell me about them. The Witcher who saved people. The White Wolf. The White Knight.” You whispered softly to him and took his hand with both of your hands. “You are not a monster, Wolf. You are a protector.” 

He looked at you with a softness in his eyes and he leaned down and captured your lips in his. You were surprised by his kiss but you slowly melted into his kiss. He gently cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer to him. You gently ran your fingers through his hair and he pulled you into his lap, as his hands moved to your hips. You pulled away to look at his face, his eyes were full of lust, his hair a mess, strands falling in front of his face, and his lips puffy from the kiss. 

“You’re beautiful, Geralt.” You whispered softly to him as you cupped his cheek softly. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into your palm as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

He held you close to his chest and brought you back into a kiss. He kissed you deeply before laying you down on the cot gently, he hovered over you, taking in your body laid out for him. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered before leaning down and kissing your lips then moving to your neck. He kissed your skin gently as he pulled off your overclothes then your undergarments. 

He groaned softly as your breasts were revealed to him, your nipples hardening in the cool air of the room. He kissed down to your peaks and placed soft kisses to your breasts. He playfully nipped on your sensitive nipples making you gasp softly and arch into his warm mouth. He squeezed and rubbed your hips gently as his mouth took its time teasing your sensitive breasts. He held you close to him as he left marks on your body as his hands ripped your panties off of your body and tossed them away. His warm hand cupped your mound softly and rubbed your clit slowly, making your body jolt with pleasure. 

You cupped his face gently and pulled him up to your face, “Want you, Geralt. All of you.” You whispered to him as you hitched your leg up over his hip. He groaned softly and kissed your lips passionately before pulling off his undergarment and revealing his thick and hard cock to you. He had to be at least eight inches and two inches thick, the hair at the base of his cock was the same color of the hair on his head, his tip was weeping pre-cum, and your mouth watered at the sight. “You’re so pretty, Wolf.” You purred and kissed him deeper. He flushed at the comment and he lined his cock up to your pulsing hole. 

You whined softly and bit his lip as he slid his tip into your wet channel. Your back arched as he slid further into you, “You’re tight, love. And so fucking wet.” He grunted as your walls squeezed him tight. His arms wrapped around your back and held you flush against his chest as he started moving in and out of you in slow and languid strokes, that had your toes curling. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Jaskier exclaimed as he burst through the door with a large satchel on his shoulder. He paused taking in the scene in front of him, Geralt naked with you pressed against him, and Geralt looking like he could kill. 

“Bard! Get the fuck out!” Geralt shouted furiously at Jaskier and the Bard was quick to rush out of the house and shut the door behind him. Geralt huffed and dropped his head down onto your chest. 

You tried to suppress it but you fell into a burst of giggles making Geralt look at you funny. “He’s got timing, right?” You giggled as you ran your fingers through his hair gently. 

“You have no idea.” He huffed before starting his thrusts again making your giggle turn into a loud moan. 

“Didn’t turn you off too much.” You smirked as he continued to thrust into you with slow strokes. Your moans grew louder and your toes curled at the pleasure he was giving you. You clawed at his back as his thrusts turned sloppy, making your walls clench and pulse as your orgasm washed over you. You cried out his name as your nails dug into his shoulders hard. ��Fuck! So fucking good, Geralt. So good!” You whined and arched against his chest as he thrusted deep into you. 

He grunted and came deep inside of you, “Good girl. You feel so good. Beautiful girl.” He murmured as he filled you up with his seed and he nuzzled into your neck, riding out his aftershocks with short thrusts. He rolled over to his back with you still on his chest and he rubbed your back as you laid on his chest. You traced his scars softly as he held you. 

“We may have to let the Bard in at some point.” You sighed as you drew mindless shapes on his skin. 

He shrugged, “He’s fine. The barn’s out there. He has shelter.” He said making you fall into another fit of giggles.

[thedemonofcat]

The thing about Jaskier is he has an extremely high sex drive. When Geralt and Jaskier finally gather the courage to confess their profound love for each other.

Geralt grapples with the insecurity of satisfying Jaskier's passionate desires. He worries that he might not always match Jaskier's appetite for intimacy, leading to the fear that Jaskier might eventually seek companionship elsewhere.

Geralt's affection for Jaskier runs deep, but he occasionally frets that Jaskier's love might outweigh his own. Meanwhile, Jaskier's lineage reveals a part succubus heritage from his mother's side, contributing to his high sexual desire.

[thelostgirl21]

English Translators: "Jaskier" translates as "Buttercup", but we can't just let a manly man use "Buttercup" as his nickname! That's way too feminine, and our readers would be horrified! Let's call him "Dandelion" instead. Yes, much better... Mucho macho...

Netflix & Joey Batey: Yeah, no. We'll just call him Buttercup by keeping the original Polish name, i.e. Jaskier.

So, this is our very own Prince Buttercup. He's a damoiseau in distress that's regularly in need of being rescued, enjoys chatting with animals, and might randomly break into song.

He feels very comfortable asking a strong, stoic, muscular man to accompany him to the Royal Ball for protection, and will attempt to convince him by rubbing chamomile onto his lovely bottom, giving him a bath, washing his stupid hair, and dressing him up in stylish, fine clothing.

He tends to see the good in everyone, and will spontaneously attempt to become friends with things that want to eat him (both figuratively and literally).

However he can occasionally become pretty condescending with commoners, and treat those that fail to appreciate his talent as beneath him; often with a complete disregard for his personal safety, as if it doesn't seem to occur to him right away that they'd actually dare lay their filthy hands on him.

He cries very pretty (so pretty), and will look at you with gorgeous doe eyes when he feels sad, hurt, scared, or needs a favor.

He's very distrustful and afraid of power-hungry sexy witches coming at him from many different angles, until they stop being all predatory and menacing, and begin rescuing and protecting him instead.

He gets along very well with other princes/princesses, and will resent not being invited to one of the most important social events of the Continent, but not getting to spend more time with them.

And he never experienced what romantic love truly was until he finally got to meet his very own Prince.

Obviously, Prince Radovid fell in love with our Buttercup at first sight, and was willing to give up his Kingdom for a chance to be by his side.

And as far as Prince Buttercup is concerned, he sees himself as a

because that's simply who he is, and that's also what masculinity looks like.

So, unless Jaskier, in the books, is a very insecure man that constantly worries about being mistaken for a woman, I can't help but find it hilarious that the translators of the books, in English, got so worried over "Buttercup" sounding feminine...

...when the character himself likely wouldn't have been bothered by the way it sounds in the least, and would totally have rocked that nickname while making it work perfectly for a guy!

Hell! As a non-native English speaker, other than the fact that I've seen the movie "The Princess Bride", and the princess in it was named "Buttercup", my brain does not at all perceive "Buttercup" as inherently feminine, nor "Dandelion" as inherently masculine.

Perhaps because, in French, each word has its own gender, and "bouton d'or" (i.e. "buttercup", but the literal translation would be "button made of gold") is masculine.

Un bouton d'or (a buttercup) is masculine.

Un pissenlit (a dandelion) is masculine.

Une rose (a rose) is feminine.

Une tulippe (a tulip) is feminine.

Etc.

"Princess Buttercup" is thus named "Princesse Bouton d'or" (it's actually the title of the movie) in French.

But "Bouton d'or" (Buttercup) is, by itself, a masculine word.

The funny thing is that, where I'm from, I think the dandelion is literally the single most hated flower I can think of.

When I was a kid, my parents - and pretty much all our neighbors - spent countless hours trying to remove every single dandelion they could find on their lawn and in their garden while making sure to fully eliminate the whole root, because they tended to replace all the grass, and some of the other flowers and plants from their garden.

Some of our neighbors had their lawns treated with very harsh chemicals (many of which are thankfully illegal today) in a desperate effort to get rid of them.

Dandelion always makes allergy season a complete and utter nightmare, makes it harder to breathe outside (those floating bits clouding the air always get stuck in your nose, throat or even eyes), it also clogs the air filter of your car...

And, when you cut them at the stem, your hands wind up all sticky and smelling awful.

Unless they want to make a point that they'll be extremely annoying, unwanted, sticky, smelly, trying to get into every single exposed orifice of your body as soon as you're exposed to them, and hard to get rid of, why would anyone ever wish to nickname themselves "dandelion"?

I mean, "pissenlit", the French name for "dandelion", comes from "pisse-en-lit" and literally means "peeing-in-bed".

Because if you eat dandelion leaves, they will make you pee and wet your bed (they have a strong diuretic effect).

Yes, we hate the dandelion so much, that we've decided to name that freaking flower "peeing-in-bed".

So, if you go from the original Polish name to the English translation of the name, and then translate the English name back to French...

You've essentially replaced:

Jaskier - > Buttercup - > Button made of gold (Bouton d'or).

By

Jaskier - > Dandelion - > Peeing-in-bed (Pissenlit).

It's hilarious!

All because some English translator got scared "Buttercup" would sound "too feminine".

The good news is that we kept Jaskier's name as "Jaskier" in the French translation of the books and the games. Although Bouton d'or would have worked just fine.

But yeah, come on! Jaskier would have made a beautiful Buttercup!

#the art of creating some gender issue where there's none.

When in doubt, just ask the character...

Would Jaskier have had what it took to call himself a "Buttercup"?

You bet your lovely bottom and bloated biceps he would have!

Still can't wrap my mind around him being a peeing-in-bed flower in English... Just... Nope! Does not compute.

[cornyonmains]

I'm still trying to figure out how I feel about season 3 of The Witcher, but one thing is for certain, I'm loving Jaskier's progression as a character.

I think it goes without saying that a huge turning point for Jaskier was his falling out with Geralt on the mountain in season 1. As I read his character at that point, he was quite in love with Geralt, and very much suffering from the belief that he wasn't enough for Geralt in any sense of the word, not as a lover, a friend, or a traveling partner. You see this insecurity ramp up throughout the entirety of the season 1 finale, and to think Geralt hadn't noticed that was lunacy. He did, which was part of the problem. Geralt needed to lash out, he needed someone to lash out at, and there Jaskier was, already wounded, the easiest of targets, and Geralt goes full savanna apex predator on his ass. Then he left him, on a mountain, that he knew Jaskier didn't know how to traverse safely. He said fuck off, and also die.

Jaskier could have crumbled, and for awhile, he probably did. But this led to a key moment of character development, because it caused Jaskier to take himself out of Geralt's shoes and get back into his own. To introspect. And Jaskier realized that he was enough, that he'd done a lot for Geralt, and that Geralt's refusal to embrace his own humanity while still wanting Jaskier as a friend resulted in him becoming an emotional punching bag. And Jaskier, rightfully pissed off after reaching these conclusions, channeled that anger into the post-break-up banger of the century, Burn Witcher Burn. But at the core of what ultimately makes Jaskier one of the most sympathetic and relatable characters in this show, is that he didn't do it so much as he was angry, but because he wanted Geralt to hear it. Because his songs are how he expresses what can't be spoken. The tragedy of Jaskier's character is that he was always going to forgive Geralt. That he was always going to drop what he was doing to trail this man with an affection even Yennefer doesn't easily mock, because it would be entirely too cruel. He wrote that song so Geralt would come and say he was sorry and Jaskier could go back to settling for scraps of his time.

So then we come to season 3, and enter Radovid. Enter the first person Jaskier's met in 30 long years that intrigues him as much as Geralt, and he's absolutely taken off his guard by that sentiment being returned after he's spent over half his life accepting something like that could never happen for him. He's 50 years old. Jaskier has accepted his fate of endless pining at this point. So when Radovid asks him to sing a song about his white-haired witcher, Jaskier slips up. He reveals too much, and it gives Radovid the chance to say exactly what Jaskier needed to hear.

"Does the witcher know how lucky he is to have you?"

I imagine it's rare for Jaskier, who spends his life finding the right words for others, that someone would find the right words for him. It's little wonder he was so immediately fascinated by Radovid, and so immediately heartbroken.

For 3 seasons and multiple decades, we see Jaskier's entire character formed by the hurt he endures being part of Geralt, Yennefer, and Cirri's life. And despite all that hurt, all the rejection, the betrayal, the torture, harassment, manipulations, and political intrigue we see Jaskier progressively becoming a better and better person. He helps Geralt, Yennefer, he helps the elves as the Sandpiper, and watches Cirri without a word of complaint. He throws himself into any dangerous situation asked of him, and helps Yarpen's men. He doesn't let the pain make him bitter. He still thinks love is beautiful, even when it hurts. He drinks, he fucks, he makes merry. He writes sad songs about Geralt.

Jaskier's development, his portrayal as a character, has been a true highlight of this series.

I sometimes think the djinn, in some cruel last jab at Jaskier and Yenn, used them both in Geralt's wish as a form of punishment. For Jaskier, his punishment for wanting so much, so quickly, was to spend his life wanting the one thing he couldn't have. That thing being Geralt, because to punish Yen, who so badly wanted control of her own destiny, he tied it to Geralt's. It's like a magical ouroboros of misery. And for Geralt, who tried to put a stop to the madness, the djinn rewarded him with the thing he wanted most. A family. A wife, a daughter, and a best friend who would never leave. It's some dark and complicated shit, and I think it rings true to the tone of the story itself.

Never has any character in this history of everything deserved to bone a hot Redanian prince more.

[friendlyreaderandco]

Ah! I lost another fic! I need to be better at bookmarking the ones I like! I’m 90% sure this one is a completed multi chapter on Ao3.

In this one Jaskier winters in Kaer Morhen. He ends up being very cuddly with all the Witchers (Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt). They all share a bed and really love Jaskier. I remember that lambert makes a comment at one point about how Jaskier will die soon and so they all stop touching him and Jaskier starts to get sad and insecure. Then vesemir goes to bed early since the room smells so sad at dinner. Jaskier all but yells at them asking why they seem to think he is a monster before he admits that he isn’t fully human and freaks out a bit before they all hug him and tell them it doesn’t make a difference.

I can’t remember who Jaskier is in love with. It’s either Geralt or all three of them! Also pretty sure Jaskier is part wood elf and he doesn’t age and flowers live a bit longer than they should. Geralt also makes a comment about how the flowers braided into his hair never wilt and lambert tries to tease Geralt about letting Jaskier braid them into his hair and he shoots back with something like, “shut up, you would let him braid them into your hair too!”

Thank you for any help!

@the-nettle-knight Saved my sanity! Thank you.

Fic found! If I Must Starve- Igneum807. A great sweet read!