#and he called him jask

[seaoffandoms]

i have screamed the biggest scream that i have ever scrumpt

[existential-queeer]

im being so normal about this guys i swear i have never been more normal in my entire life he just called him "jask" im--

[bardsandbees]

i cannot put into words the severity of my emotions when geralt so casually called him jask

[thedemonofcat]

Carriage driver Geralt and Noble Jaskier.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silver glow as Geralt guided his cart toward the gates.

“Good evening, sir,” the guard called, stepping forward. “Out a bit late, aren’t you?”

“I need to reach the next kingdom before dawn,” Geralt replied calmly.

The guard gave a nod and glanced over the cart. It held nothing more than some straw and a threadbare blanket. He seemed satisfied.

“You’re free to go,” he said, waving Geralt on.

Miles beyond the gate, a voice emerged from beneath the straw. “Can I come out now?”

“Yes, Jask,” Geralt said with a small smile.

A tousled head popped out—Julian Alfred Pankratz, better known as Jaskier. He coughed softly, brushing straw from his shoulders. “Thank the gods, it was dreadfully dull under there,” he muttered, shifting to sit beside Geralt.

“It was the only way to sneak you out of the castle... and the kingdom,” Geralt reminded him.

“But it was worth it,” Jaskier said with a grin.

“In four days, you’ll be free to become a bard,” Geralt said, meeting his eyes.

Jaskier reached out, gently taking Geralt’s hand. “And you and I will be free to marry.”

[wild-blue-wanderlust]

Some Witcher Characters’ Name Meanings

Julian “Jaskier” Alfred Pankratz

Julian means “Jove’s Child”, Jove being an alternate name for Jupiter, the King of the Gods in Roman mythology, their equivalent to the Greek Zeus. I like the mythology reference in his name considering in the Netflix series he references the Muses, Greek Goddesses of inspiration.

Julian can also mean “youthfulness”, which is fun since he doesn’t seem to age.

As pointed out by @kaiseaya — Julian is the only name still in use in Poland, as well as the most common name on here in other countries such as England or Germany, effectively making Jaskier’s Name seem more ‘normal’ in comparison to other names on the list. He’s just a guy.

Alfred means “elf counsellor” and I think this fact has destroyed me. So what if I said he was destined to become the sandpiper? What then?

Pankratz has Greek origins, from pan, meaning ‘all’, and kratein, meaning ‘to rule/to conquer’. So Pankratz therefore means “to conquer all” or “to rule everything”. It’s also said to have German origins.

Jaskier, as everyone in this fandom knows, is “buttercup”, though it was translated as Dandelion in English because “buttercup was too feminine. Buttercups symbolise friendship, joy, and youth. Dandelions represent resilience and hope, and are used to make wishes. Netflix does utilise the ‘dandelion’ name, when he’s referred to as ‘The Dandelion’ while in Radovid’s room in season 3.

Sandpipers are shorebirds that would probably be close to Jaskier’s hometown since it’s coastal. They represent safe travels, adaptability, and long journeys, which fits the role the name was made for.

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Her name should be spelled Jennifer, but was apparently translated as Yennefer to keep the polish pronunciation, rather than having the pronunciation Jennifer would have in the English language.

Jennifer is Welsh, meaning “white ghost” or “fair lady”

It’s derived from Guinevere, who was the ‘beautiful but unfaithful’ wife of King Arthur in British medieval literature/legend

She has the ‘of x’ place name rather than surname. It seems the only characters with this are orphaned characters?

Vengerberg sounds like ‘avenger’ or ‘revenge’. Berg is a common suffix in German place names (where Aedrin is supposedly based on), and it means “mountain”

In the books, her birthname was Janka, which means “god is gracious”. A nickname for Janka is Jenny (read: Yenny) which is likely what would’ve inspired Yennefer

Janka almost reminds me of the name Falka, the Redanian princess accused of being an elf who murdered her family, removed Stregobor’s hands, and was burnt at the stake. In late season 3 we see Falka teaching Ciri to use fire magic, stepping into Yennefer’s role in some ways, teaching Ciri the thing that caused Yennefer herself so many problems

Both of her lovers (Istredd and Geralt) give her a shortened nickname. Istredd calls her ‘Yenna’, Geralt calls her ‘Yen’. This paints Geralt and Istredd as both being two sides of the same coin. Geralt specifically giving a nickname is definitely a love language as, aside from Yennefer, the only other nickname he’s used is Jask for Jaskier

Her other notable nickname is ‘Piglet’, by Tissaia, a name she is referred to as for being in the pigsty when Tissaia met her, that she stops using when she feels Yennefer has earned her respect. This way of teaching, Yennefer uses on Ciri later, calling her ‘My Ugly One’

Geralt of Rivia

Geralt is apparently Germanic in origin, meaning “ruler of the spear”

I like that both him and Jaskier have something to do with ruling somewhere in their names

We know that, at least in the series canon, attributes the name to Vesemir, and is upset by (the hallucination of) his mother using it. We don’t know his birth name

He is not actually from Rivia. We do not know where he is actually from, I don’t think.

To keep up this act of being from Rivia, he picked up a Rivian accent. Rivian accents are looked down upon by other people in the Contient, specially from Aedirn and Temeria

His first choice for his name was Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde

Roger means “famous spear”, Eric means “alone, ruler”. Haute-Bellagarde is French in origins, haute meaning “high” and Bellegarde meaning “beautiful watch tower”

Therefore, Geralt’s original name, in full, would’ve meant “Lone Ruler of the Famous Spear from the High, Beautiful Watch-Tower”

Everyone say thank you Vesemir for making him not do that

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Cirilla, Greek origin (my ‘Ciri and Jaskier are both descendants from Éile and Fjall from blood origin’ headcanon is. It’s doing things). Means “ruler”

Fiona means “white” or “fair”

Fiona is also one of the names Francesca brought up to name her and Filavandrel’s daughter.

Elen is derived from the Greek ‘Helen’, meaning “shining torch” or simply “light”. Helen, as in Helen of Sparta — the ‘face who launched a thousand ships’. The Trojan war was fought to bring her home after she was kidnapped

Riannon is welsh, meaning “great queen” or “goddess”

Calanthe also has Fiona Elen Riannon as part of her name. Pavetta has only Fiona Elen

Ciri has a relative with Riannon as a first name. Riannon had a daughter named Fiona. Those two were connected with Falka. She also has a relative named Elen

Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Caellach

Cahir is Irish, meaning “Battle man” or “warrior”

Mawr means “great” and is Welsh

His mother was named Mawr, which is presumably where he got that name. I have a few trans!Cahir headcanons from this that the world is not ready for

Dyffryn is his family name, also Welsh, meaning “valley”. They were nobles in Vicovaro, owning land named Dyffra.

Caellach is his father’s name, leading me to believe that aep means ‘of’ or ‘son of’.

Caellach is Irish. The fact that his family name is Welsh like his mother’s name, while his father’s name and first name are both Irish, lead me to beliehe that the family name (and by extension the nobility) is the mother’s, but I haven’t read the books so I don’t know for sure

Emhyr Var Emreis

Emhyr is also Welsh, and yet again means “ruler”. It has been pointed out that it’s similar to Emir (Turkish) and amir (Arabic), both of which mean “Commander in Charge”

Emreis is like Emrys, also Welsh, meaning immortal. If this isn’t a surname in the traditional sense but instead a title or epithet, perhaps Var means ‘the’, making him Emhyr The Immortal

His full name, as we learn in s3, is Emhyr Var Emreis Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd

Deithwen being “white flame” in elder speech

Addan, according to the Witcher Wiki, is “dancer/dancing” in the Nilfgaardian language, yn is “on”, and Carn is “tomb”, and Morvudd is “enemies”. We established earlier aep is probably ‘of’

His full name, therefore, is as follows: “Emhyr (Ruler), The Immortal White Flame Dancing on the Tomb of the Enemy”

Duny, the name he used when marrying Pavetta, means “having many sand-dunes”, so I don’t know what that’s about

He called himself the Urcheon of Erlenwald — Urcheon meaning “hedgehog”, and Erlenwald being the forest where he saved Calanthe’s husband (therefore earning Pavetta)

Pavetta

Pavetta is a genus of tropical flower found in Africa and Asia. Latin. The flowers under this genus are white from what I can tell. It apparently also translates to “young leaves”

Reminds me of her colour scheme in the Netflix series, her green dress being the leaves and her light blonde hair being the white flower part

As mentioned before, Pavetta has Fiona Elen, meaning “fair, shining torch”, but she doesn’t have Riannon: great queen. This makes me sad.

Vespula

Vespula is a genus for “social wasps”, their common name being yellow jackets

She’s a wasp, Jaskier is a flower. Wasps are attracted to and pollenate flowers. They were made for each other.

It also comes from Latin ‘vulgaris’ meaning common (as in, common wasp) which is a bit less sweet? Lmao

One of the species under this genus is the cuckoo wasp, and cuckoos symbolise marriage in Greek Myth, as well as being a bird (matching Jaskier’s Sandpiper)

Wasps, in general, symbolise taking control of your life, evolution and progress. However, more general in day-to-day life, they’re seen as annoying and a less-sympathetic version of a bee.

Unlike bees, wasps do not die after stinging you,. They can, and will, sting you repeatedly. (Vespula can, and will, keep throwing Jaskier’s stuff off the balcony. In every adaptation she is a constant)

Fringilla Vigo

Fringilla is another genus. I don’t know why so many of the women have genus names but sure. This is specifically a genus of finches

Finches are quite small, and they’re part of the passerine family which are known for having feet structured specifically for perching

Vigo, aside from being a city in Spain, means “small village” or “settlement”

Philippa Eilhart

Philippa is Greek origin meaning “lover of horses”. The Greek origin specifically here is quite fun because Philipppa shapeshifts into an owl, and Athena, Goddess of Wisdom (Philippa being Redanian intelligence) is associated with owls, while her uncle and Poseidon is associated with horses. Athena also came up with the Trojan horse idea, but I find the Poseidon thing more interesting as Poseidon has a rivalry with Athena, therefore there’s a rivalry between horses and owls, but Philippa, an owl, loves them

Eilhart could be from the Germanic ‘eil’, coming from ‘agil’, meaning “weapon” and ‘hart’ being “strong”, making her “strong weapon”. Alternatively, someone on Reddit also brought up the closeness of ‘eil’ to the German word ‘eule’ which means owl, in which case her last name could mean “strong owl”. Both are fitting in my opinion.

Radovid V

Radovid is Slavic, mainly Polish or Czech, meaning “renowned counsellor”. Both him and Jaskier having ‘counsellor’ in their name means a lot to me.

Other sources say Radovid means “delight to see” — someone remarked that non-Netflix Radovid ‘delights to see others suffer’. Alternatively, it may also mean “to see glory”

Rience

Welsh, apparently derived from Rhiannon, though Rience specifically focuses on the ‘goddess’ meaning of that name, and means “a magical and enchanting goddess”, apparently, which is quite funny to me

However, there was also a Rience in Arthurian legend, the thing that Yennefer’s ‘Guinevere’ comes from. He is an enemy of King Arthur (surely, with Yennefer being the ‘unfaithful wife’ and Rience being the enemy, Arthur would be Geralt? But then who does Yen cheat on him with? The closest thing Geralt has to a Lancelot, or close companion, is probably Jaskier. Oops)

[inexplicifics]

hiiiiiii i’m sososososo into the emphasis you put on names!!! the bit in waca where jask keeps correcting himself from “the white wolf” to “geralt” and the moment in the one where geralt thanks milena for protecting jask and eskel when she makes him laugh and he switches immediately to geralt in her head? incredible. flawless. a million/10! literally i came to send this bc i’m reading tibooa for like the hundredth time and i NEVER NOTICED BEFORE??? how her name in her own head changes to shrike when gilmeth cuts her hair! i’m crying i love them all so much

Thank you so much!

Names - what you call yourself, what others call you, getting to choose them - are definitely a theme with me. Geralt gets 'Warlord' hung on him and hates it, is mostly alright with 'Wolf' because, well, it's accurate and also it's what Eskel calls him (and he likes it from Eskel), and is happy when people are willing to call him by his actual name. Jaskier gets to choose to be Jaskier, not Julian. And as you say, Shrike gets to choose to be Shrike.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

just remembered the real-life canon not-a-fanfic on-screen scene of geralt softly calling jaskier "jask" with the most tender look in his eye and telling him he doesn't want to put him in danger again and pretty much did the werewolf tearing shirt meme

[lycheeloving]

I'm currently re-watching the first season of the Witcher... I forgot how much I love Geralt. So I had to write yandere headcanons for him ofc:

He still has to hunt monsters, but he tries to keep it to a minimum, as to not endanger you

When he does have to do something dangerous, he leaves you at the safest place that's nearby-ish. He doesn't tie you down, so you can still run away if you're in danger. At the beginning, this means he always has to chase you down after he gets back, but he couldn't live with himself if you got hurt because you couldn't get away from some monster.

That being said, you quickly realize that Geralt does, in fact, leave you in the safest place possible, whether that's an inn in a town or somewhere in a forest. Running away usually only gets you into trouble that Geralt has to save you from, so at some point you stop running. He always finds you in no time anyways, because of his enhanced senses. You might as well stay where you are, that's less exhausting.

He doesn't punish you for running away. He thinks it's annoying and might grumble and complain a bit while carrying you back, but that's all. He knows that this isn't an ideal situation for you and how could you ever love him, but he just can't live without you.

He does teach you some basic self-defense stuff, and how to act around certain monsters, so you're not totally unprepared if something were to happen. Usually the only thing you should do is run, though. (He teaches you for which monsters you should stand still, so you don't make a horrible mistake)

You'll sleep outside most of the time.

Downside: he insists on cuddling while you sleep. His arms are around you like a vice and you can't go anywhere. Plus the floor is uncomfortable (even if he has started to carry more comfortable sleeping bags etc with him bc you kept complaining) and cold. Really cold.

Upside: At least Geralt runs hot, so he keeps you warm?

Being outside all the time also means you usually have to bathe in various rivers and lakes... Geralt always stands guard with his sword in his hand. Just in case. He has to look at you, to keep you safe! Not because he likes seeing you naked or anything...

If you're ever in a town, don't expect the people there to help you. Nobody wants to enrage a Witcher, especially not the butcher of Blaviken...

Geralt will let you talk to others if you want, as long as you (or they) aren't flirting. He gets jealous easily. So if you don't want them to "mysteriously" disappear, try to be careful about how you talk to others. And who you talk to.

Doesn't care if other people call him names because he's used to it, but if anyone makes a comment about you because you're with him? They're dead.

Lets you ride Roach. of course.

I feel like he would still be friends with Jaskier. Jask would just think you're being silly if you talk about how Geralt kidnapped you and won't let you leave or whatever. "Haha, yeah, I get it, I keep coming back to him as well, his life is just so fascinating! So, what did you think about my new song?". Useless in helping you escape, but at least he's fun to be around. Might try to hit on you once, but immediately realizes that he should never do that again if he wants to live keep being friends with Geralt.

I feel like Yennefer would flirt with you and make demeaning comments like "Can I borrow your little toy?" about you, to piss Geralt off. You don't like when she's there because she always makes him feel like he needs to prove that you're his.

Will probably leave a bite mark on your neck, to mark you as his. So everyone knows not to touch you, even if he's not around.

Yes, he'll take you to Kaer Morhen. The others make fun of him for "acting like a lovesick puppy". He doesn't care, as long as they're not making fun of you. If someone does make fun of you, Geralt will seriously hurt them, unless you convince him not to. In which case he'll have to hear even more comments about how he's totally whipped. But at least it makes the other Witchers like you more, if Geralt hurts them for you that just pisses them off, and in that case nobody has a good time.

[thelostgirl21]

Somehow, I don't think I've ever truly taken the time to appreciate just how sort of... ridiculous Radovid's introduction scene is?

Not Radovid himself, he's adorable!

But it does make you wonder...

How often does King Vizimir just... randomly yell his name at the top of his lungs like that to get his attention, and then, just... basically lets him carry on, because turns out he didn't want anything from him?

He's like: "Nah, don't worry about it, 'bro! I just felt like loudly shouting your name in a crowd rather than simply telling Dijkstra that I'd decided you'd be leading the 'Princess Ciri finding efforts' from now on! Just reminding him of how adorable you are, you know? Look Dijkstra? Isn't he adorable? That's my baby brother with his little bottle making cute little "whoo! " sounds right there..."

Because, you know, once Radovid realises that his brother is calling him, he makes literally no effort to go see him, either!

I know he's playing dumb/drunk, but still!

"What's that?! Oh, okay! It's just Vizimir trying to locate me. Whoo!"

WHAT *IS* THAT?!

It's like a parent at a children's party suddenly going "SAMUEL!".

Child: *Stops playing to look at their parent.* "What?!"

Parent: "Oh, no worry, honey! I just wanted to make sure you hadn't run off, drowned in the pool, got kidnapped or something! But I see you've got your grape juice bottle and are having fun with your friends, everything's fine! Go on!" Child: "Yay!"

I mean, you might reasonably expect King Vizimir to shout Radovid's name in a crowd like that to get his attention so he can motion to him to come over, and then introduce him to someone he's never met before.

Which, on a meta level, is technically what he's doing: introducing Radovid to the audience.

But in Universe?!?!

It's Dijkstra. Dijkstra knows who the crown prince of Redania is, Vizimir! You could've just told him, and he'd have gotten it! No need to get all dramatic about it!

TL;DR: King Vizimir is a ridiculous drama queen that loves showing off his pet baby brother every chance he gets!

And Radovid's gotten so used to it by now, that he's totally stopped attempting to figure out what his big brother wants when he calls him.

What if it's not just Vizimir, though, and Radovid just has that reputation for constantly getting himself into trouble if left unsupervised for too long.

So, people at court have a habit of periodically shouting his name; just to get him to manifest himself in large crowds, or crawl out of whatever hole or tight space he's crammed himself into, make eye contact, and locate him.

Therefore, in my new personal headcanon, there's now a scene at the Thanedd Ball that pretty much goes:

- Dijkstra: "RADOVID!" - Philippa: *walking over to him* "I think I saw him leave earlier with his royal security detail. He's probably sniffed out the bard's scent..." - Dijkstra: "Oh, good! You made sure those guards understood their assignment, right?" Philippa: "Of course!"

***Meanwhile, in the nearby woods.***

- Captain of the guards: "RADOVID!" - Other guard: "It's no use sir, we've lost him! " - Captain: "Gods damnit! Dijkstra won't be pleased..." - Radovid: *having already put plenty of distance between them, on his way to go see Jaskier* "Whoo!"

It's a good thing Philippa wasn't with them, or what might have happened would have been something closer to:

- Philippa: "Don't worry! I've got this!" *in whispering tones* "Sabrina was right. Valdo Marx's compositions are far superior to Jask -" - Radovid: *instantly traveling across space and time to appear right before her* "Valdo Marx has NOTHING on Jaskier! His sublime ethereal melodies, and the poetry of his lyrics, elevate the bardic arts to -" - Philippa: "Oh. Look. There he is!"

[roughentumble]

@hale-of-stiles-heart

ok idea under a cut just cuz it got a lil long

ok so. jaskier's been teaching at oxenfurt. he's made human friends, but he still thinks about geralt constantly, meets up with him once a year to make sure jask's settling in alright, sometimes calls to geralt to ask him to hang out. and he's drunk and he wants his friends to meet geralt and see how lovely his wonderful demon is!!

so. he uses geralt's name. the long one, the one geralt cant ignore.

so he can introduce geralt to all his friends.

and when geralt is pulled there, he's /seething/. full wrath-of-a-demon. he'd been in the middle of an important deal when he was dragged away. perhaps something like, a child being abused, making a deal for protection? but now he's /here/. dragged there by a drunked human treating him like a toy, like a dog to sit and speak on command, no gravity for the immense power jaskier has over him by knowing that, AND the power everyone else in the room has if they can remember what he said. and geralt doesnt hold any of this back, has been violated by humans stomping all over his boundaries for years, tells jaskier all of this, the deal and his feelings and being turned into a puppet.

and at the end of it jaskier, he's sobbing, because he didnt mean any of that. and his friends are all deadly quiet, drunken revelry brought to an end. and when he finds his voice, all he can ask is "will she be alright? the child?"

and geralt still feels angry, and violated, but he softens. pets jaskier's hair, because he a foolish human but he isnt nasty and cruel. thoughtless sometimes in his youth, but not a monster. "i dont know," he says honestly, "we'll just have to hope she summons me again, and soon."

@hale-of-stiles-heart

oh my gods i just had a thought about demon!geralt

ok so i already did the "names have power" thing that i just threw in there. but. what if. geralt's name. is literally the long du haute bellegarde thing. and like, for each piece of a demon's name you know and use, the stronger the compulsion they have to answer your call. like they can ignore a summons if they want to, but with enough of their name you can eventually literally yank them out of whatever theyre doing and FORCE them to be there

so what valdo knew was "geralt of rivia", and that's what most people sortve know, there are other name fragments he responds to. but his full title is something long and obnoxious like:

geralt roger eric du haute bellegarde, knight of rivia, duke of hell, apprentice to archduke-of-hell vesemir and his infernal heir

[write-ur-wrongs]

Stayaway

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

*********

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

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

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

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

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

"No! I miss you!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I do, do I?"

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

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

"Fair enough... oh thank you."

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

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

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

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

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

No!

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's -"

"Pathetic? I know."

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

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

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

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

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

"Y/N..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ladyannemarie5]

Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in S3:

He's a slut (and we support and defend the bard's slutty rights).

He's a Monster fucker (at least for once and once again we support and defend the bard's slutty rights).

The best tiddies in the Continent

He's a cat boy

Has platonic feelings for Geralt

Has a crush on Rafovid because he's different

Is bisexual (more pansexual)

Wears eyeliner

Is Ciri's funcle

Geralt's and Yennefer's best friend and #1 trusted person

Geralt calls him "Jask".

Keeps writing love songs to cry all night long

He's still the Sandpiper

He's traumatized

He's the bravest bait that ever lived

And finally, Joey Batey is the love of my life

[the-hidden-pages]

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

Thigh riding | Sex pollen | Forced orgasm 

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

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

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

Geralt had warned you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, what of it?”

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

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

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

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

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

And you were very aware of Jaskier sitting beside you.

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Jask…”

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

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

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

Jaskier right beside you.

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

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

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

You already don’t want clothes in the way.

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

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

The wine. Only the wine.

It has to be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gods is he hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You had just fucked Jaskier.

You were still sitting on his cock.

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

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

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

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

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

[thedemonofcat]

“What would you give to save him?”

“Anything,” Jaskier replies truthfully.

Instead of claiming Jaskier’s soul or whatever ominous, otherworldly voices do, it says, “By the gods, that is precious! I’ll heal him with no charge this time, and I’ll grant you a boon because it’s been centuries since I’ve seen such beautiful devotion!”

Confused, but not wanting to offend the powerful being who was suddenly being very helpful, Jaskier says, “I—I am honored by this favor you have shown us. I swear to write a song in your honor, my dear.”

“Aren’t you just lovely? You may dedicate your song to ‘The One Who Joins Hands’”

Jaskier had no idea what the fuck that meant, but he made a mental note.

“And your boon?”

“Pardon?”

“What would you like as your boon?”

“Oh,” what would he like? More importantly, what wouldn’t come back to bite him in the arse later?

“How about I guarantee that your love will always remain true?”

“Oh, well, there’s really no need.” Jaskier would like even the barest hope that he’ll get over his unrequited feelings some day. And Geralt would hate for his feelings to be messed with. This being liked the idea of them together though, so best to find a good excuse. “I do not doubt my beloved. Really, the only thing to separate us would be my shorter lifespan.”

“Done!”

“What—?”

“Your lifespan is now tied to his! You’re welcome!”

———

Geralt wakes and is surprised to be alive. He soon spots his bard, staring dazedly at nothing.

"Jask…" Geralt called, hurrying to the bard's side, gently patting his face. "Jaskier, wake up."

It took a moment, but Jaskier's eyes eventually fluttered open, regaining focus. "Geralt, you're alright!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around the Witcher in an embrace.

"Yeah, I'm alright. But what about you?" Geralt asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

"I'm fine. Do you… not remember anything?" Jaskier replied cautiously.

"The last thing I remember, I was fighting something… must have killed it if it's gone now," Geralt said with a shrug.

Jaskier froze, his mind racing. Geralt didn’t remember—he didn’t know about the deal. The bargain Jaskier had struck with *The One Who Joins Hands* to bring him back.

"We should probably get going," Geralt continued. "I promised to meet Yennefer soon."

Of course, Jaskier thought bitterly. Geralt loved Yennefer. Never him.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Here is my thumb at the polling station!! I was gonna take a picture directly outside but someone else was taking a selfie and I felt weird waiting for her to be done. Anyway what do I get in exchange??

HELLO THUMB. I like that you've got a different coloured sign, bravo.

I'm using this opportunity to share some of what might actually be the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. This is the start of chapter two, but... yeah. It's pretty obvious what's going on here. The only context I'll give is that this is post-everything, post-game, "settled down and married and owning an inn in Toussaint".

(I'd also like to thank @spielzeugkaiser for encouraging this one)

Also adding a cut because it's long and I couldn't decide where to cut it off 😅

---

“Geralt, my darling love, my handsome witcher, my saviour of men?”

“What do you want?”

“I— what makes you think I want something?”

“You only use that tone when you want something and it’s—” Geralt shuffled around in bed and peered out of the window. It was still dark out. “Before dawn,” he finished. Paused. “What are you doing up, anyway?”

Jaskier stared down at him, dressed only in a nightshirt which Geralt was fairly certain was his.

“I heard a noise,” he said.

Geralt resisted the urge to pull him back into bed. “You heard a noise.” He repeated, tonelessly.

“Yes. It woke me up,” Jaskier continued. “And now there’s something in the stables.”

With a grumble, Geralt finally sat up. “What is it?”

Jaskier gave him an exaggerated sigh. “Well I don’t know, do I?”

“Why don’t you go check, then?”

“What if it’s a bandit? Or some sort of horrid beasty? You truly can’t expect me to deal with it, can you?”

For a moment, Geralt considered suggesting just that. But Jaskier had a point. He was  famously unhelpful in these sorts of situations. With a sigh, he swung himself out of bed and hastily dressed in the first clothes that he could get his hands on. After a second of consideration, he grabbed his sword as well.

“Come on, then.”

There was a disturbance in the stables, it turned out. Geralt could hear the horses snuffling and pacing - clearly something had spooked them. As they approached the sturdy stone building, Geralt could see that the door was swinging open.

“Stay here,” he muttered towards Jaskier over his shoulder.

“Right-o.”

The stables smelled like horse and sweat. But beneath that, a tang that Geralt didn’t recognise. And beneath that, one he did: blood.

It was too early and he was too tired to fuck about. He gripped his sword, set his shoulders, and called into the dark.

“I know you’re in here,” he said. “Show yourself.” 

At first, nothing happened. And then there was a rustle from the far corner, and a voice.

“Please, m’Lord—” 

A head appeared over the hay. A man. He was all cheekbones and angles, with a thatch of wild untamed hair. Geralt’s first thought was how young he looked. Probably no older than twenty-three or four. He looked terrified, too, and his eyes swept over Geralt in a dance Geralt had grown familiar with. The expression of fear melded from one of being caught, to one of being caught by a witcher.

As the man moved, the smell of blood grew stronger. There was a little cut on his face, just below his eye - which was marred with a huge purple bruise - but that alone wasn’t enough for such a strong scent. Geralt wondered where else he was bleeding from.

He wasn’t a bandit. He didn’t seem particularly dangerous.

“Please,” the man repeated, struggling to his feet. “Please, I’ll just— I’ll go, I swear, I just needed—”

He took a step forwards and immediately toppled, grabbing onto the wall to steady himself. He was clearly more hurt than he was letting on, and he looked exhausted. Geralt wondered how long he’d been running for. What he was running from. When he met the man’s eyes, they were wide and swimming with unspilled tears, and again, all Geralt could think was how young he looked.

Younger than Ciri, even.

Shit. Geralt was going soft. 

“Jask,” he called over his shoulder. “Come here. I need a hand…”

Jaskier’s face appeared in the doorway.

“I’m not sure what you think I can—” his eyes landed on the man. “Oh. Oh, Gods, Geralt, what’s going on?”

Geralt shrugged. “I don’t know. Help me get him inside…”

Jasker, thank Melitele, was better at this than Geralt. He quickly rushed over to the man, wrapped an arm under his shoulders to support him, and started talking to him in a low, calming tone.

“Are you alright? Look, just— you’re going to be okay, yeah? Just lean on me like that—”

Together, they manoeuvred the young man out of the stable and across the yard, his legs threatening to give out with every step.

“Thank you—” he mumbled, his voice hoarse. “Thank you, I don’t— I just— Thank you—”

“That’s quite alright,” Jaskier said, giving him a little squeeze. “What’s your name?”

The man sniffed, and winced.

“Penn.”

[renegadesstuff]

He called him 'Jask' 🥺🤏🤍