#his narcissistic ass would marry paper just so paper would be a housewife and help him with the hotel

[elise-the-potato]

I see so many mischaracterisations of OJ like he's not "the caring one" all his prideful ass cares about is money 😭

[thearvariblues]

The Bard And The Wolf - Chapter Seven

(AKA Geraskier in the Metal Band AU you didn’t know you needed)

AKA me desperately trying to catch up my Tumblr with what’s already been posted to AO3. ;)

The masterpost for this fic can be found HERE.

7 – You Stop This, Jaskier

All eyes turned to the door when Jaskier entered the rehearsal room, a big paper cup of coffee in one hand, a paper bag in the other.

“Fifteen minutes late with Starbucks,” Renfri smirked.

“I have two things to say to that, dear heart,” Jaskier said, taking a sip of his coffee. “First, I’m merely three minutes late. And second, I would never ever in my life set foot in a place as wretched as Starbucks, so don’t ever accuse me of something so horrible again!”

“Did you stop for a coffee or not, Jask?” Geralt chuckled.

“No. I stopped for something to eat. The coffee was an afterthought.”

He placed the cup on a little table next to the couch, sat down right next to Geralt and reached into the paper bag, pulling out a big sandwich which he immediately took a big bite of.

“Wow. Your night must have been really taxing,” Lambert laughed.

“Is Ciri around?” Jaskier mumbled.

“She’s walking Roach,” Geralt said.

“Good. In that case, my dears, I can tell you that my night was exquisite. I spent most of it in the middle of a very lovely, well… sandwich. Our fans really do get enthusiastic after a good show!” he grinned, but then he frowned. “Wait, who’s Roach?”

“What do you mean, who’s…” Renfri blinked. “Oh, of course, you haven’t met her yet. Roach is Geralt’s dog. Technically, she’s Roach number two.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said. “Right.”

“She’s a husky,” Eskel added.

“Of course she is. And… She’s coming here with Ciri?” he beamed.

“Yeah. In a few minutes,” Geralt nodded. “But don’t touch Roach. She doesn’t trust strangers. I adopted her a few months ago when Roach number one died. She wasn’t even one year old, but her life must have been really shitty before, so…”

“Poor little thing.”

“Yeah, she’s definitely not like Roach number one,” Renfri sighed. “That was such a sweet girl. This one is like a tornado.”

“But of course Geralt still adores her,” Eskel said.

“Yes. I seem to have a thing for totally unpredictable and crazy individuals,” Geralt smirked. “Jesus, Jask, are you seriously going to wolf down the whole thing? This must be the biggest sandwich mankind has ever seen. How does it even fit in your mouth?”

“Lots of practice.”

“Eating sandwiches?” Lambert said, cocking his eyebrow. “Or stuffing large things into your mouth?”

“The latter,” Jaskier grinned. “And stop giving me that look, Geralt. I’m hungry and I refuse to look like a starving bag of muscle like some of us do.”

“Some of us, Jaskier?” Geralt asked.

“Come on, I saw you getting dressed before the gig yesterday. I mean, yeah, big muscles, ripped body, it’s meant to be sexy, but it only means you should definitely eat more. A little layer of some nice, protective fat would do you good.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Renfri muttered. “He keeps his body like that because Yennefer liked it.”

“I keep my body like that because I like it,” Geralt growled.

“Well, don’t mind me then,” Jaskier shrugged, getting another bite of his sandwich. “I just tend to like men who are strong and a little bit soft at the same time. Like Eskel here. But that’s just my problem. If you want to look like this, go on. Hey. Hey! That’s my sandwich!”

“You said I should eat more, didn’t you?” Geralt smirked, effortlessly wrestling Jaskier’s snack out of his hands.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean my sandwich, you ass!”

“Too bad,” Geralt said, biting into it. “Oh, this is delicious!”

“So glad you like it,” Jaskier muttered. “I’m hungry over here, you know?”

“Shut it. You already have that layer of nice, protective fat,” Geralt mumbled.

“Yeah, yeah. Didn’t use to, you know?” Jaskier sighed, grabbing his coffee. At least something to soothe his hunger. “I used to be really thin. Always hungry. Because Valdo always used to tell me Oh, Julian, look, those tight pants would look so nice on you, too bad you’re not a size smaller. Oh, Julian, sweetie, look a this guy’s thighs, they don’t even touch each other, isn’t that beautiful? Julian, is that a tiramisu? Yeah, it’s a fucking tiramisu, you ass, and I’ll have as much as I want. Ugh. Can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with that bitch.”

A complete silence fell in the rehearsal room and Jaskier suddenly saw everyone was staring at him with mouths agape.

“I’m sorry,” Lambert finally said, after a few long moments. “Did you say Valdo?”

“Mhmf,” Jaskier muttered, trying to hide his face behind his coffee cup.

“As in Valdo Marx?” Eskel specified.

“Might have,”Jaskier peeped.

“Are you telling us that you dated fucking Valdo Marx for two years?!” Renfri yelled. “And you starved yourself for him?!”

“We broke up three years ago!” Jaskier said, throwing his arms open and nearly knocking the sandwich out of Geralt’s hand. “I was an idiot, okay? I thought I was glad to have found him, thought no one would be ever able to love the real me, blah blah blah. Took me way too long to realize I was being a total idiot and break up with him. He’s hated me ever since and my mother’s yet to speak to me again.”

“Your mother?” Eskel frowned.

“She thought Valdo and I would get married, adopt a kid and I would become a perfect housewife for him,” Jaskier sighed.

“Wow. She doesn’t know you at all, does she?” Renfri chuckled.

“Not in the slightest, honey.”

Lambert shook his head.

“Honestly, I’m still trying to process that someone like you would spend two years fucking that insufferable prick. Valdo Marx. Fuck.”

“Could we maybe stop discussing Valdo fucking Marx?” Geralt grunted. “Has anyone read the reactions to the gig yet? Because I haven’t.”

“Yes. Thank you, my lovely white wolf. Absolutely. Let’s focus on the reviews, because I kind of haven’t had the time yet to...”

The door swung open and a large husky came barging in, heading straight for the couch.

“Roach! Stop!” Ciri yelled behind the dog.

Roach stopped in front of Geralt, sniffed at his sandwich, and then turned her head to Jaskier.

The bard, remembering that the dog didn’t like strangers, avoided her eyes and merely offered her his hand. The next thing he knew, he had a massive dog in his lap and a wet nose was enthusiastically sniffing at his face.

He yelped when a broad tongue licked his nose.

“What was it you said about her not liking strangers?”

“I’ve never seen her do anything like this before, I swear!” Geralt chuckled, taking a coffee cup from Jaskier’s hand so it wouldn’t spill. “Roach, get down. Bad girl.”

The dog gave a tiny, desperate whine.

“I said get down,” Geralt repeated.

Roach turned her body to Geralt, eyed his sandwich and whined again.

“What did we say about begging for food?”

She lowered her head and looked pleadingly at her owner.

“Oh, I love her already,” Jaskier laughed. “Will love her even more when she stops crushing my crotch. Hi, Ciri, by the way.”

“Hi, Jaskier,” the girl replied. “Sorry, dad. I didn’t think she would do that. Where did you get the sandwich?”

“Stole it. Shamelessly!” Jaskier huffed. “Geralt, your dog is heavy as hell, you know it?”

“Roach. Get. The fuck. Down.”

Another whine.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier chuckled. “Well, can someone at least read me those reviews and make me happy before I die?”

“Don’t you have your own phone?” Geralt asked.

“I do. In my pocket. Underneath your dog.”

“Right. Ciri?”

The girl already had the phone in her hand.

“On it.”

“Good,” Jaskier muttered. “And give me back my coffee, Geralt, because if you decide to steal that too, my chances of survival will grow even lower than they are now!”

“You really are such a drama queen, Jask…

*

“The Bard and the Wolf? What the hell is that?” Geralt frowned after the third (very positive) fan review of their gig. He had already finished Jaskier’s sandwich, and even managed to get Roach down from Jaskier’s lap. That seemed to be a mistake, as the dog clearly decided to hate him for that – judging by the fact that she was currently sitting on the floor by Jaskier’s leg and tapping his hand with her paw every time he had the audacity to stop petting her. She was completely ignoring Geralt’s very existence.

“Oh, that’s a new hasthtag. My creation,” Renfri said. “I needed to tag a pic with you two, and I thought of this...”

“What, instead of The Witcher and the Witch?” Lambert asked.

“And what’s that?” Jaskier asked before he could think better of it.

He should have expected the answer, of course.

“The hashtag people used to use for Geralt and Yennefer,” Eskel explained. “It was her character. A witch.”

“Oh, good,” Jaskier muttered. “Shouldn’t it have been The Witcher and the Bard, then?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Renfri shrugged. “Besides, Geralt’s more of a Wolf, really.”

“True,” Jaskier nodded. “But to be honest, I don’t think it’s gonna stick.”

“You’re probably right,” Renfri nodded. “I’ve seen it used like… four times. But everyone calls you The Bard.”

“Perfect,” Jaskier grinned. “What do you think, Roach, isn’t it perfect? No, no, no! Roach! My coffee!”

He shrieked as the dog suddenly turned and jumped back onto his lap, knocking the cup out of his hand.

“Oh, dear, even dogs adore him,” Lambert sighed. “How is that fair?”

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled. “Geralt, would you help me instead of fucking laughing?!”

“So sorry, dear heart,” Geralt chuckled. “But I think Roach has found her new favorite human.”

“I’m really glad to hear that! Oh, Geralt, you’re so gonna pay for this shirt!”

*

A few hours later, Jaskier was sitting on the couch in his living room, sipping wine and scrolling and scrolling and scrolling through his social media.

He knew he shouldn’t. He knew that it was narcissistic and, well, stupid. But he had to see. Had to convince himself that it hadn’t only been his imagination that afternoon.

He had to convince himself that yes, Kaer Morhen’s fans really did like his mad, cheeky, queer self. There were even a few who claimed that he was an improvement on Yennefer. An improvement! It was a dream come true.

He forced himself to stop and he put his phone down. Took a sip. Picked his phone back up.

He couldn’t help himself.

He gulped when he saw that Ciri had posted a new photo from the rehearsal room. A photo of Jaskier and Geralt sitting on the couch, with Roach on Jaskier’s lap. It must have been shortly after Roach knocked the coffee out of Jaskier’s hand, because Geralt was clearly laughing and Jaskier was just starting to.

Roach meeting @jaskierthebard for the first time. In case you couldn’t tell, she really hates strangers... #thebardandthewolf #andawolf #loveatfirstsight #husky #dogsofinstagram

Jaskier smiled and liked the post, and then kept looking at the picture a little longer.

He really loved Geralt’s expression there. It was so open, so happy and so damn beautiful.

Jaskier sighed, forced himself to put the phone down and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from seeing the white haired man’s face.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” he whispered to himself. “You stop this, Jaskier. You stop this right now, because if you don’t, you’ll only get in trouble.”

He could stop his thoughts, yes. But he couldn’t stop his heart from beating a little faster.

*

Geralt knocked on his daughter’s door.

“Ciri, it’s eleven already. Lights out.”

He waited, but she didn’t answer, so he opened the door carefully.

The girl was asleep on her bed, dressed in her pajamas, with her laptop next to her.

Geralt took the laptop and the screen lit up. He stopped and blinked. Ciri had a new wallpaper – of Geralt, Jaskier and Roach in the rehearsal room.

He looked at the picture and smiled. He really had never seen Roach fall for someone so fast, but here she was, sitting on the bard’s lap, happy as ever.

And Jaskier…

Geralt shut the laptop and shook his head to clear it.

No. He wasn’t going to go there. No way.

He placed the laptop on a table, covered Ciri with a blanket and kissed her forehead.

“Good night, honey,” he whispered to her. “Sweet dreams.”

He turned off the light and closed the door behind himself.

Continue witch Chapter Eight