#to be fair geralt’s party isn’t really ‘the guys’ it’s like one guy one woman one [lazy hand gesture that says ‘behold!’]

[hanzajesthanza]

combining (one of my) favorite short story with (some of my) favorite characters ❤️

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier Soccer Parents AU of my dreams (in an early morning strike of weird-brain):

-Geralt knows he isn't the best dad ever. He tries so goddamn hard, but his job is demanding and consumes so much time and even with Ciri being seven already, he still has essentially no clue what he's doing. He sometimes falls into bed, half-dead, and she is the one to give him a good-night kiss. He sometimes forgets she prefers cheese and puts ham on her sandwiches. He is sometimes too happy to have her sleep over at her friends rather than invite them to their house. He doesn't read her all the children's classics, doesn't go trick-or-treating with her, doesn't even pretend Santa Claus is a thing. He isn't the best dad ever. He tries.

-There is one thing he never, ever fails to do and that is take Ciri to soccer practice. Ciri picks up and drops hobbies, interests, even tastes by the week, still unsure what she wants to pursue, but soccer isn't only her favourite pastime, it's theirs. Practice is twice a week and they have a ritual for it. Geralt picks her up from school and drives her there, she tells him about what the dumb boys in her class said, how her art project is going etc. Geralt is there throughout practice, tucked in between Foltest - a guy who is constantly worried for his daughter Adda to get hurt and also very much anxious for her to do well - and Tissaia - a woman who has not one, but three girls in Ciri's age group and several more in others, and knits like a magician - and watches. He takes notes, silently cheers for Ciri.

-After their games and while Ciri changes, Geralt chats with her coach Vesemir - who used to be Geralt's coach, but now prefers to train the girls' teams - about the progress of the team, upcoming tournaments etc. Sometimes when Vesemir is indisposed, Geralt even leads the practice. When Ciri is all done, Tissaia usually has another hat or mitten finished and Geralt and her drive with their girls to whatever food place the girls are in the mood for. They have an early dinner in which Tissaia lectures the girls on their form and in which Ciri is sometimes allowed to sit on Geralt's lap - but only if Fringilla or Yen don't tease hear about it - but in which she definitely gets to steal his milkshake (Geralt hates milkshakes). Geralt only praises her when they're back in the car and Ciri tells him he's too much of a softie with her and should be more like Tissaia. Should maybe marry Tissaia. They both laugh because that is never going to happen.

-Life is good that way. It's not perfect, it's not without bumps, certainly not without tears and scrapes, but whatever the job, whatever injury Geralt carries with him, however long he has to drive, he never, never ever misses soccer practice.

-The season's just kicked off in the year of Ciri's eighth birthday when Geralt and her arrive early on the field to find the stands empty save for a girl in the most ridiculously colorful excercise clothes and blond hair that is braided intricately around her head. With her is a man, maybe five years Geralt's junior. Ciri bolts towards them with a bright grin and Geralt is hesitant to follow. He knows neither the girl nor the man, but from what he can gather she wants to join the team which is just what they need as they're one girl short this season. "Hi, I'm Ciri, I adore your braids." Geralt holds back on the eye-roll. It's nice Ciri can make friends this easily, but his house already is a shrine for role-playing and board games, dolls and random DVDs and another friend means more things Ciri will want to try out. "Thank you," the girl replies and tilts her head to better show them off. "My uncle Jaskier braided them for me, I'm sure he can do yours too." Both girls look up expectantly at the man and Geralt only really notices him then. He is averagely built with bright blue eyes and an even brighter smile. His floral print shirt has three open buttons and his pants barely reach his ankles. He has the look of a flippant music teacher or a hipster coffeeshop owner. His eyes meets Geralt's and, wait, did he just wink? "I'd love to, dear," he says in a smooth voice that absolutely does not go straight to Geralt's guts. Geralt turns on the spot and decides to pressure check the balls, but he can hear the others giggling as Jaskier braids Ciri's hair. "I'm Priscilla by the way. What's up with your dad?" - "Oh, don't mind him, he's bad with meeting new people." - "Very intense." That's Jaskier. Oh, Geralt will show him intense.

-Ciri invites them to their after-practice dinner. Geralt wants to begrudge her that, but she and Priscilla have latched onto each other in record speed and Jaskier actually fights Tissaia on some of her more strict stances and he braids Yen's and Sabrina's hair too, only Fringilla doesn't want him to touch hers which he respects. Geralt and Tissaia glance at each other. Come to a silent agreement. They may not befriend Jaskier, but he's sunny and so good with the girls and they can use someone like him among their ranks, someone who doesn't have Calanthe's tendency for swear words or Crach's tendency to break out beer in the middle of practice or even Nenneke's tendency to relate everything to the workings of god.

-Jaskier is as faithful as Geralt, perhaps the only one who shows up every time without fail. Shani's parents only drop her off and Crach switches between  Cerys' and Hjalmar's practices and Tissaia sometimes texts Geralt to pick up her girls. Jaskier is there, every time, earlier than any of the others. He chats with Vesemir about his day-to-day, brings home-baked cookies for everyone, he cheers and whoops and tries very hard to understand soccer even though it's evident he doesn't. Geralt never wonders why it's him and not Priscilla's parents that come, it's none of his business. He begins to tolerate Jaskier, but he knows that is where he has to draw the line. He has his hands full with Ciri and his job and his brothers too. He can't afford friendships that extend beyond the field.

-Jaskier doesn't let him off though. He always takes the spot next to Geralt (technically an improvement over Foltest's sweaty visage) and prattles on and on, at least until the game begins. When it does, Jaskier divides his attention between the girls and the stack of paper on his lap which he annotates during practice. It's often either sheet music or the illegible scrawl of pre-teens or wonkily drawn instruments. Jaskier already told him, but from that too it is obvious that Geralt's hunch was right, he is a music teacher. Geralt finds his eyes darting to Jaskier's long fingers, nimble and calloused from the various string instruments he plays. Finds himself glancing at where Jaskier's tongue peeks out in concentration. He listens to the man's ramblings and hums his replies and comes to dislike the days when Vesemir isn't there and he has to focus all his attention on giving the girls a good practice. Not that he doesn't want to, it's just that having Jaskier at his back unnerves him.

-(Jaskier for his part doesn’t care at all about soccer, but he cares about Priscilla so he convinced her parents to let him take her; after that, she said it would be fine if he dropped her off and picked her up again, but Jaskier pretends he is super invested in the sport and the team and he is, but mostly he’s invested in charming Geralt)

-After an entire season of mutual pining and obliviousness, Tissaia decides she's had enough and rallies the other parents. She has Foltest organize a big party at his country house, has Nenneke promise to look after the girls (the woman doesn't drink) and has Crach whip out the finest spirits he has in storage. Calanthe makes a phenomenal playlist and it's Tissaia's job to get Geralt to the party (Jaskier's not a problem) and dress up nicely. Only Aridea, Renfri's stepmother, refuses to pitch in, but she's been a bitch anyway.

-When Geralt picks up Jaskier at his downtown flat he has to grip the wheel of his rover hard in order not to short-circuit. Jaskier has done something to his hair that Geralt can't name but that makes him go woozy inside. He wears a plain shirt that compliments his eyes and hugs his body just right and he looks high on life with color in his cheeks and the most dazzling smile. He's gorgeous. "Darling, don't you look dashing," Jaskier says excitedly and props his feet up on the dashboard, only after kissing Geralt on the cheek. Which is not fair. "Likewise," Geralt mutters, then blushes furiously. He didn't want that to come out, oh no. Jaskier either didn't hear or acts like it and they drive in silence to Foltest's country house. Well, aside from the songs Jaskier hums under his breath, some new composition no doubt.

-At first, Geralt thinks it's a nice enough party for someone who doesn't like parties. Foltest's grilling burgers, they all have cocktails, the music is mellow. Not that that stops Jaskier from swirling an already quite drunk Calanthe over the terrace in dazzling moves. Geralt wants to be swirled like that. "You really have it bad, don't you?" Crach comments when he notices Geralt staring. Geralt downs his beer (he's no cocktail drinker) and tries pointedly not to stare at how Jaskier's swinging his ass around.

-The buzz makes it easier and he relieves Foltest at the barbecue for a bit. But then Jaskier walks up to him, a little short on breath and grinning his most flirtatious little grin. It gives him fucking dimples. Sigh. "Hey you big strong man," Jaskier says. He smells like pineapple and coconut, but isn't even a little drunk. "Jask," he says, pointedly flipping a burger. "Foltest says he has an old karaoke machine in the shed, but it's too heavy for me. Help me?" - "...fine." Geralt gestures for Foltest to keep up with the meat and he and Jaskier make their way along a garden path that winds through thickets and by a small pond. The shed is painted blue and white and Geralt and Jaskier find it very much cluttered, but not dirty which is nice. Geralt only understands it's a trap when it's already sprung on them. The tiny click of the look is almost inaudible over Jaskier's anxious commentary of their search for the machine. There is only one small window and no light Geralt can see. Fuck.

-"Ehm, Jaskier?" he reaches out and gently touches Jaskier's shoulder which has the other man yelp and jump. Which doesn't bode well for what Geralt has to tell him. "I think we're trapped." The effect is immediate. Jaskier goes rigid, his breath catches. Is he afraid? Claustrophobic perhaps? Shit, so he can't be in on the joke. "Jask?" - "Geralt. I know we aren't the closest, but I need you to hold me right now." And he launches himself at Geralt. Maybe he is in on the joke? No, he's trembling too hard for that. Geralt catches him and does as asked. "I am absolutely going to die," Jaskier whines into Geralt's neck and Geralt can't help a small chuckle as he rubs Jaskier's back soothingly. This is... surprisingly nice for a trap. Also likely Tissaia's doing. Geralt has a rare idea. "What if I distract you until someone finds us?" he murmurs against Jaskier's hair and Jaskier draws back a little. In the half-dark his eyes glisten, widen when they meet Geralt's. "You would?" - "Close your eyes, Jaskier." Geralt feels a surge of daring, perhaps granted by the intimacy and seclusion of the situation. He catches Jaskier's lips with his own. When they part, Jaskier grins, shaking from something other than fear. "I thought you didn’t much like me," he whispers. "I thought I got on your nerves." - "Idiot." They kiss again and, faintly, Geralt can hear someone cheer from outside.

[eredins-a-king-aint-he]

Geralt/Gaunter + 5? Because I feel like Gaunter def looked jealous in the tavern when that guy interrupted him right before he stopped time 😏

hey anon?? Have I mentioned that you’re the best?? I love doing these, they’re a great writing exercise, and Gaunter/Geralt is so much fun to write >:3c

(I hope you don’t mind that my head went to a slight different place with this prompt though)

Prompt:  “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

~~~~~

     Geralt is not sure how he has managed to get dragged to yet another fancy masquerade party, yet here he is, dressed to kill, masked, and already deeply wishing he could get back into his comfortable armor. His collar itches, so he scratches it, earning himself a disgusted look from a nearby nobleman. 

      “Why am I here again?” he grumbles to his companion. 

      “Because you’re my friend, and I asked you to be here,” Dandelion replies loudly, drawing stares from all around.

      “Don’t start with that again,” Geralt says irritably. “I know you, and I know exactly the kind of shit that you pull—”

      But Dandelion is clearly not listening.

      “Ooh, I’ll bet five crowns on that being the fair countess Merallia,” the bard says, adjusting his peacock mask, and he makes a beeline for the woman, leaving the annoyed witcher behind.

      “Every goddamn time,” Geralt grunts, but he’s used to Dandelion’s antics so it doesn’t really bother him. He scans the crowd, taking in the array of fancy clothes and colorful masks. Spotting a tray of drinks moving past, he snags a few and downs them all, once again ignoring the resulting dirty looks. Warmth blooms in his stomach from the alcohol, and he sighs.

      “Why, if it isn’t the White Wolf,” a smooth voice from behind him says, the sound ringing familiarly inside Geralt’s mind. He turns and looks down into a face that he recognizes despite the mask it wears. The sparkling eyes behind the mask are completely and totally unmistakable. 

      “Gaunt—” he begins, but the man shushes him. 

      “Naughty,” Gaunter O’Dimm says with a curling smile. “No naming names until the party ends, and we all remove our masks.”

      The witcher scowls slightly, but the heat inside his belly is no longer from the alcohol alone.

      “How did you get in here?” he asks.

      “Are you surprised by my presence? Masquerade balls are one of my favorite types of parties. I wouldn’t miss one for the world.”

      “Yes but this is a private event,” Geralt replies, snatching another drink from a passing servant and downing it.

      “I got in the same exact way as you,” Gaunter says, surprisingly direct. “I was invited. Is that so unheard of?” 

      “Wasn’t trying to be rude,” Geralt mumbles into his glass. “Just curious.”

      “Ah, dear witcher,” Gaunter says, patting his arm. “Haven't you ever heard the saying, ‘curiosity killed the—’”

      “Wolf!” someone calls. It’s another voice Geralt recognizes, but the pleasant thrill of hearing it is suddenly tempered by worry as he watches Gaunter’s eyes shift slowly toward the newcomer, full of deadly good humor. He remembers the last time he witnessed someone interrupt Gaunter O’Dimm, and hopes that this instance will end differently.

      “Wolf,” Geralt replies, turning to clasp hands with the man he knows is one of his closest friends, and they embrace. “It’s good to see you.”

      “And you,” Eskel says, pulling back and sounding pleased. “It’s been months! How have you been? How on earth did Dandelion manage to get you to one of these after last time—”

     “Gods, don’t bring that up here,” Geralt groans. “Are you going to be in town long?”

      Eskel takes a drink from a nearby tray.

      “For a couple days, yeah. Why?”

      Geralt casts a slightly nervous glance toward Gaunter, who is being unusually quiet. 

      “Why don’t we meet up at The Clever Clogs tomorrow evening after sundown and catch up? These events aren’t the best for that kind of thing.”

      “Sounds great, I’ll see you then,” Eskel says cheerfully, clasping hands with Geralt once more. He sends a friendly smile toward Gaunter, wishes them both a good evening, and disappears back into the crowd.

      Geralt turns slowly back to the man, dreading what he might find. Gaunter is still staring at the place where Eskel had just disappeared, but time hasn’t stopped, so that is probably a good thing.

      “Sorry about that,” Geralt mutters. “Please don’t kill him, I’m actually quite attached to him, and would rather he stay alive if possible.”

      This makes Gaunter look back into his face. The sparkle in the man’s eyes has vanished, leaving them black and eerily empty.

      “You know how I feel about being interrupted,” he says softly, dangerously. He adjusts his doublet, and there’s something about the rigidly straight set of his usually curling mouth—

      “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

      The words leave Geralt’s mouth before he can think better of them. Cold fingers of dread slide down his spine as Gaunter seems to consider them.

      “You think I’m jealous?” Gaunter asks slowly, sounding almost amused. He steps forward, moving purposefully into Geralt’s space, until the scent of him— spices and smoke— tickles Geralt’s nose. Unable to stop himself, the witcher swallows hard. Fear and desire rise in him, coating his insides. The cocktail of feelings is one that Gaunter seems to brew in him every time they meet.

      “Shouldn’t have said… sorry,” Geralt manages. Belatedly, he realizes that the design on Gaunter’s mask is a clock, then movement draws his eyes downward. He watches anxiously as Gaunter reaches up to him, but the man’s fingers close gently around his chin and not his throat. With Gaunter he can never be sure. The man holds his eyes for a long moment, searching his gaze with focused intent, then his mouth curls into a slight smile.

       “Relax, witcher,” Gaunter says. “It’s a party, lighten up.”

      “But you—”

      The fingers around his chin tighten briefly, then they let go.

      “Yes, I do still hate being interrupted, but for the party’s sake, I won’t make a fuss.” 

       Relief spreads through Geralt like sunlight. Eskel is safe then. Good. 

      “Not for my sake at all?” his traitorous mouth says. Gaunter chuckles. 

      “Come with me,” he says, and walks away. Geralt’s legs obey before he has a chance to consider the action. The crowds part before Gaunter as if large, invisible hands grip them and move them to each side of his path. Seeing this, Geralt shivers, but he still trails after the other man, following him into a secluded alcove. Gaunter stops, then turns to him, eyes sparkling once again.

      “Yes, a little for your sake,” the man says quietly, conversationally, “but I can’t just have that spreading around. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

      Startled by this apparently blatant honesty, the witcher simply stares down into Gaunter’s masked face. The desire to reach out, pull the mask off, and kiss him flits across Geralt’s mind. As it does, Gaunter’s smile broadens. He slides a hand around the witcher’s waist.

      “Tip up your mask,” he whispers. Geralt doesn’t hesitate. He lifts his mask and bends down, hungrily pressing his lips to Gaunter’s, feeling the man respond with warmth. After a moment, they pull back. 

      “As much as I would love to torture you by introducing you to each and every one of my acquaintances here,” Gaunter says softly, his eyes twinkling as Geralt shudders, “I’d prefer to continue this somewhere else. How about it?”

      “But you love parties,” Geralt replies through a haze of arousal. “You said so earlier. Don’t you want to stay and uhh, mingle?”

       “I do not.” The words are said with a steely decisiveness that erases any question of a doubt from Geralt’s mind.

      “Let’s go, then,” he says, tentatively reaching for Gaunter’s hand. Gaunter accepts, lacing their fingers together in a gesture that sends heat throughout Geralt’s entire body, and his mouth curves into a slow, meltingly sweet smile.

      “After you.”

[mordoriscalling]

Life (of) Surprise (4/6)

Jaskier lies to his family about being engaged to Geralt for the second time… and there are way too many surprises involved.

Part 4 of the Singer and the Sailor AU that no one asked for but I wrote anyway (again). The chapter count went up again because I just can’t stop writing this story lmao. 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

IV - A Surprise Discovery

Geralt is certain that a stag do shouldn’t involve this much crying.

The evening started innocently enough. They have had a room rented at a fancy club and they’re drinking, talking and playing cards. Geralt would rather do this at home but Lambert and Eskel told him not to be so “tragically boring”, hence the current arrangement.

Geralt’s been spending the day with “the guys”: Eskel, Lambert, Aiden, Vesemir, as well as his soon-to-be brother-in-law Silvio and not-quite soon-to-be brother-in-law Nasir. Jaskier, on the other hand, is away partying with “the girls”: Rozalia, Amelia, Triss, Essi and Yennefer.

Geralt hasn’t heard from Jaskier in a few hours, so he assumes his soon-to-be husband (only two months left to the wedding, and isn’t that a thought) is enjoying himself. Geralt, for his part, is having fun too; the stag do isn’t a disaster at all.

Then, it gets better.

Because Eskel is crying.

They were talking about Essi, commenting on what a lovely person she is. Although she’s not exactly Geralt’s type (he’s into people who are more... feisty), he still agrees that she’s a great woman – loving, warm, intelligent and beautiful inside out. Vesemir commented that there had to be many people mourning the fact that she was taken.

Eskel, upon hearing this, started weeping.

“Should we tell him?” Aiden, sitting beside Geralt, murmurs to Lambert.

“Nah,” Lambert replies gleefully.

They watch as Eskel sheds tears, mumbling about how much he’s in love with Essi but he wouldn’t dare to ruin her current relationship because she deserves happiness and –

To be fair, they have drunk a lot at this point.

Silvio and Nasir are clearly holding back their laughter. Lambert doesn’t even bother and guffaws freely, to which Eskel pays no mind, so lost he is in his despair. Aiden hides his face in the crook of Lambert’s neck, his shoulders shaking.

Vesemir seems more tired and sick of their shit than usual, though sparks of amusement dance in his eyes.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship makes you cry,” he tells Eskel gruffly, playing along.

“It does!” Eskel whines, “I should be her boyfriend.”

Vesemir’s lips tremor but he manages to keep his cool as he asks, “And what’s her boyfriend’s name?”

Eskel opens his mouth to respond but he says nothing. His brow creases in thought – it’s visible how the wheels are turning in his head – and then the moment comes when something clicks in his brain.

“Wait,” he says, understanding slowly dawning in his face.

At this, everyone at the table collectively loses it. Geralt is laughing so hard he’s slapping his thigh. Silvio and Nasir are in convulsions. Lambert and Aiden are leaning against each other, wheezing. Vesemir has to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

Eskel is too happy at the discovery to even notice the amusement at his expense. “I am her boyfriend!” he exclaims with wonder. Letting out a joyful chuckle, he repeats, “I’m her boyfriend!” He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the table. “We should drink to this!”

At the same time, Vesemir answers, “No.” and Aiden replies, “Yes!”

Vesemir plucks the bottle from Eskel’s hands and says, “You’ve had enough for now, pup.”

Lambert starts arguing and Geralt rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to drag his older brother to the side and force a lot of water and some food into him. While he does this baby-sitting, the phone in his pocket rings. As Geralt pulls it out, he’s surprised to find Jaskier’s name displayed on the screen. Slightly worried, he picks up.

“Hey, my loveliest sailor,” Jaskier slurs, his voice unsteady and watery. “Can I –” A sniff. “Can I come?”

Geralt frowns, bemused. “Shouldn’t we spent this night apart?”

“Fuck that,” Jaskier grumbles, “I miss you.”

“You haven’t seen me in five hours.”

“So?” Jaskier asks. “I just... want to see you. Please?”

Jaskier sounds downright miserable. Geralt has nearly come to terms with the fact that he may never master the art of telling Jaskier no but he's not fully resigned to his fate yet.

“Okay,” he answers.

“Are sure, darling? I won’t come if you don’t want to, you know,” Jaskier babbles nervously, “I don’t want to make you do anything you–”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, “it’s fine, come here and bring the rest.”

Ever since their argument three months ago, Jaskier takes extreme care not to do anything without Geralt’s knowledge and consent. He keeps asking about every little idea, fretting and worrying whether he’s not overstepping. Most days, that’s the reassurance Geralt needs to keep believing in Jaskier's words. It does get tiring sometimes, though.

“All right.” Jaskier’s voice goes from resonating from the darkest depths of sadness to cheerful as the sun on a spring day in the span of those two words. “We’ll be there soon, my dearest.”

Geralt hums and hangs up.

After fifteen minutes more of trying to turn Eskel into a more or less functioning human being, Geralt witnesses the other stag do party members arrive. Jaskier opens the door to the room with a bang, his arms spread wide and a grin on his face.

“Geralt!” he exclaims and walks towards him with a prominent stagger in his step.

Before Geralt knows it, he has his arms full of drunk Jaskier. His fiancé peppers kisses all over his face and mumbles something nonsensical while Geralt holds him up, a smile tugging at his lips under all the loving attention.

In the corner of his eye, he can see the rest greeting each other, apart from Yennefer and Triss, who are watching him and Jaskier with a judgemental and an amused look respectively.

“Why are you here?” he asks Yen as Jaskier finally stops kissing him and embraces him instead.

“He was crying about how much he loves you,” she replies with an eye roll.

Triss snickers. “He was telling everyone about it, and I mean it. He wanted everyone in the club to know.”

Geralt stifles a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yennefer and Triss laugh. Jaskier raises his head and blinks up at him owlishly.

“Something wrong, my gorgeous sailor?” he asks.

Geralt really bemoans the fact that even a single look from Jaskier can affect him considerably.

“No, siren,” he sighs, “We should join the rest.”

They ask the staff to bring another table and more chairs, and soon, everyone is sitting comfortably, talking, playing and drinking. Everyone except Essi when it comes to the last part, at least; Geralt quickly notices that she doesn’t touch any alcohol. She claims that she simply doesn’t feel like drinking but Eskel, who sits beside her, starts fretting, concerned that she’s ill.

“I’m fine,” she assures him.

“You sure?” he asks, “You haven’t been feeling well recently. Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Geralt’s the only one watching the exchange, as everybody else is occupied with the ongoing conversation about the rules of Monopoly. He sees hesitation in Essi’s face. She bits her lip, seemingly considering something for a moment, but then looks up at Eskel and smiles. “I think I should,” she replies, “seeing that I’m pregnant.”

Geralt freezes in shock. Eskel’s brain visibly short-circuits.

“The fuck. But we –” he stammers out, “Why, I mean, how –”

“I don’t know,” Essi answers, her eyes wide and apprehensive, “I really have no idea.”

Eskel nods slowly, his expression still absolutely flabbergastered. “Fuck,” he says, with much feeling.

Essi looks at him closely, uncertainty colouring her lovely face. “I know this very unexpected and you never wanted a family but perhaps we can... talk about it? We don’t have to keep it but I –”

Eskel seems to finally snap out of his shocked state. “Essi, no,” he says quietly, taking her face in his hands, “I never let myself have a family, but now that the baby is here... Holy fuck,” he breathes out, one of his palms moving to touch her abdomen. “There’s a baby here?” he asks, his voice cracking. She nods with a watery smile, and he takes her into his arms. His whole frame is shaking now, and there’re tears in his eyes. “A baby,” he chokes out. His tear fall but his whole face is alight with joy.

Suddenly, Geralt’s throat is tight. He knows that Eskel never considered himself a father material because of all the issues he’s been battling since his childhood, just like Geralt and Lambert. Although he was quite a ladies man in his youth, he never allowed any relationship to get serious. Years passed like this, and Eskel’s now in his early forties, which is rather late to become a dad. Essi is six years younger than him, so it’s not early for parenthood for her either.

Yet, they both seem so happy now, and Geralt can’t get enough of seeing his brother like this, smiling and crying as he holds Essi and kisses her.

The rest of the table finally catches on that there’s something important happening. Then, the news is out, which brings their celebration to new heights. Jaskier is so happy and satisfied with himself that Geralt suspects his chest may soon burst from how much Jaskier puffs up with pride.  

“See?” Jaskier tells Lambert, “I’m a better matchmaker than you!”

“I made a marriage happen!” Lambert replies.

“I made a baby happen! Beat that!”

Lambert scoffs, the picture of unimpressed. “Maybe you and Geralt are gonna have kids too.”

“We’ve already got two,” Geralt answers without thinking.

Jaskier lets out a shocked gasp, staring at him in disbelief, and Geralt slowly understands what he said.

It’s not that it’s not untrue – they do have two children under their care. The thing is that neither Ciri nor Dara is very likely to call Jaskier their dad. Technically speaking, Jaskier will soon become Ciri’s step-father, but Ciri sees him more as Geralt’s partner. In Dara’s eyes, Jaskier is a supportive, parental figure, but it'd be foolish to think that the boy could ever consider himself Jaskier’s child. Geralt knows that Jaskier realises how silly that wish is but he still seems to hope for it, deep, deep down.

“Geralt–” he says, tears welling up in his eyes.

For a stag do – even two of them at once – it’s too much crying involved.

***

“Shoes off, Geralt, honestly,” Jaskier complains, “Are you doing this on purpose every time?”

Geralt only grunts. His head is spinning, too much to be pleasant, and he doesn’t trust his mouth to form a dignified enough answer. Jaskier’s very drunk too, so he doesn’t comment on Geralt’s response, or lack thereof.

The two of them slowly make their way towards the bedroom. Jaskier’s house is rather large, though, and they’re many objects and corners they stumble into. The rucksack they’re causing makes them snicker but their amusement is cut short when walk by the living room – Ciri and Dara are there, sitting on the couch in front of the TV and observing the two of them with delight.

“What are you two doing up?” Jaskier slurs out, “It’s...” he looks at his hand, where a watch should be, but there isn’t. “It’s late.”

“We found an interesting show on TV,” Ciri replies innocently. Geralt doesn’t believe it for a minute.

“Well, sleep is important!” Jaskier exclaims, gesturing dramatically with the hand he doesn’t use to hold on to Geralt. “Go to bed!”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Dara answers.

“Young people like you should get a lot of sleep.”

“We know, Jaskier,” Ciri sighs.

Jaskier would go on about the significance of sleep for teenagers if he was allowed, so Geralt starts dragging him away. Before they disappear behind the corner, though, he turns back to Ciri and Dara, shooting them what he hopes is a withering look.

“Show’s over,” he growls out.

Ciri and Dara have the decency to look chastised.

Arriving in the bedroom successfully takes them a few more minutes. When they finally do, they go straight to the bed, not bothering to undress. Then, they’re kissing, messy and eager, but their bodies have a problem rising up to the challenge because of the copious amount of alcohol flowing through their veins. Jaskier breaks the kiss quickly anyway, saying that he’s about to be sick, and rushes to the bathroom.  

After Geralt is left alone, he tries to process all the holy fucks of the day, primarily the reveal that Eskel is going to be a father and by extension, Geralt’s going to be an uncle. Then there’s the very fact that he marries Jaskier in two months. Geralt also has a memory of seeing Yennefer and Triss kissing during the party, and that is a lot to unpack as well.

The world is spinning as he lays in bed. He registers Jaskier returning and laying down beside him before he falls asleep.

It feels like no time passed at all when Geralt and Jaskier are waken up by noise. The loud thumping bores down into his skull, causing awful, throbbing pain. He sits up, groaning, and Jaskier does the same with a whimper.

Then, they hear Jaskier’s voice sing the first verses of Her Sweet Kiss and, suffice it to say, Geralt has had enough of that gods-damned fucking song and its techno remix especially.

“CIRILLA!” Geralt bellows.

“DARA!” Jaskier yells.

After a torturous minute, the music is turned off, but there’s no blessed silence. Instead, bright laughter reaches their ears. Geralt huffs, irritated, and checks the time on his phone. The fact that it’s one in the afternoon and that there’s a glass of water placed on his bedside table redeems Ciri and Dara slightly.

“Fucking hell,” Jaskier moans, messaging his temples, “I love my life.”

Strangely enough, there isn’t an ounce of sarcasm in Jaskier’s voice. Geralt turns to watch him closely, taking in his pale face, chapped lips and the grimace of pain twisting his features. “You do?” he asks.  

Jaskier looks at him, the blue of his eyes as beautiful as always. “I do,” he answers softly, “My life is so much better with you in it.”

Warmth explodes in his chest and Geralt moves closer, kissing Jaskier on the mouth, the cheek, the nose, hoping to convey what he finds himself unable to say. Jaskier responds to the affection with a happy hum, angling his face so get more kisses. Geralt indulges him gladly, pecking him on his forehead, his brows, under his eyes, down his neck.

“So much better indeed,” Jaskier purrs.

Geralt chuckles. “That is thanks to Lambert.”

“Oh shut up.”

Jaskier’s grumble is so grumpy that Geralt can’t help but laugh. Jaskier carries on grouching about being better than Lambert, and it keeps making Geralt laugh.

He couldn’t be more glad that he’s stayed.

[postmodernmulticoloredcloak]

Aaand now it’s time for episode 6 of The Witcher! Rare Species is the title and it’s intriguing, are we going to learn more about witchers?

Anyway, let’s do this. F.lux off, luminosity on, earbuds, clean glasses, and we’re ready. Nobody cares about that but whatever.

We start directly with Jaskier which is always welcome.

Geralt’s employers for the case think he’s dead by now and take Geralt’s stuff... but some strangers just show up and help out. Stranger dude introduces himself and I immediately forget his name and don’t try to learn it. Now he’s Suspiciously Helpful Guy, for short Beard Guy. The ladies with him are gorgeous.

This is about a dragon!!! That’s super exciting. Hope the dragon looks cool.

Jaskier also thinks the ladies are gorgeous. He probably thinks everyone is gorgeous but still, mood.

The reward for killing the dragon is huge, because it’s about the reputation of a king. Makes sense. Suspiciously Helpful Guy isn’t suspicious after all, he just wants the lord title and whatnot and wants Geralt on his team because Geralt is like the Cristiano Ronaldo of monster hunters, and that makes sense.

Beard Guy doesn’t want the reward for itself, but wants a last adventure before he gets too old to do anything exciting, apparently. He tries to appeal to Geralt emotionally, but Geralt is still unconvinced. Aaaand now we get what convinces him to join. The world is small :)

So welcome to Deadly Gishwhes.

Yennefer is there as a fancy escort to Pompous Knight. I think they haven’t started yet and she is already Done with him.

Meanwhile-not-meanwhile Ciri is walking right into Fake Mousesack’s trap...

Deadly Gishwhes for now is a camping trip. Isn’t this fun! Geralt is convinced that the most dangerous thing on the mountain isn’t the dragon, but Yennefer... we’ll see. I mean, definitely.

Dinner is an awkward affair until it gets a more intimate affair, then it’s cute. I’m afraid these nice people won’t survive this.

Dara suspects Fake Mousesack, but Ciri doesn’t...

Meanwhile Yennefer has been sleeping and has lost her escort. Oops.

Oh, he’s been found. Double oops.

The dwarves suggest a shortcut, our team accepts, but we’re gonna have some Yennefer-Geralt drama first.

And of course Yennefer is meaning to use the dragon to get her uterus back.

Geralt says she’d definitely made a bad mother and, well, is he wrong. Apparently it’s customary to make witches and witchers sterile, and he acknowledges that their lifestyle isn’t suited for children. Which I can’t really disagree with... if you really want a child, you can adopt one after deliberation, and not risk to produce a child accidentally that will be thrown into a very unstable environment. I get where Yennefer is coming from, though--it’s not really about a child, it’s about reclaiming the possibility of a choice that was taken from her. I think it’s more about having a part of herself taken away, and maybe she’s been rationalizing her feelings as wanting to be able to have a child, but I think it’s about the integrity and wholeness of her body, of getting back something of herself she got robbed of (even if she chose it at the moment--but it was a choice dictated by the desperation of fixing what had caused her a lifetime of abuse, suffering and self-loathing).

I love how this thing is all leading to Geralt becoming a mama duck.

(Yeah, I don’t know how this story will progress exactly, but I am assuming the plot is going to be about Geralt becoming a mama duck until proven otherwise. I mean, this episode is yelling at us that Ciri is going to become his adopted daughter, we just got hammered with a reminder that she’s tied to him by destiny and Geralt is now babbling about the fact that it’s not a good idea for him to have a child. But for some reason I expect Geralt to go through the story being imprinted on by every orphan or lost soul he meets, like baby ducklings with mama duck.)

(I can’t really think of Geralt as a father but I can only think of him as a mother, does that make sense? I’ve watched too much Supernatural.)

AAAAAAH he’s “thought about this--often”. He’s thought about children and parenthood. Excuse me, I needed that heart, who gave you the right.

Oh my god, he’s been avoiding the surprise because he knows he’s supposed to parent the child, and does not want to subject the child to the life he leads!! I am having feelings!! He does not want a child to go through what he goes through!! He’s literally been tormented by the idea that destiny wants to give him a child but he doesn’t want the child to suffer through the horror and pain of his life!! Wasn’t one (1) show with these themes enough, did I have to add another??

Well, now Yennefer is going to be bitter that she’s been trying to get a child for decades and this dude stumbled into magical adoption just like that.

Also love how Geralt is like “why do I start babbling like an idiot when I’m near you”. It’s called being neurodivergent Geralt. I know this isn’t the take I was supposed to get from the scene but I’ll go with it. It makes sense okay?

Ciri catches Fake Mousesack, and They(TM) get fed up with the whole thing... Ciri is savage af.

The shortcut is terrifying and Jaskier is being perfectly reasonable thank you very much.

Nooo Beard Guy!!! Goergous Ladies!!!! I mean, I expected it, but still. :’(

Oh bby he’s trying to console Geralt and also working out his own pain.

The directors have a favorite angle to shoot Geralt, uh.

Yennefer has made a Tardis Tent. And they have an emotional (emotionally mature, at least for they standards?) moments. They suffer a bit from a-man-and-a-woman-share-a-pencil-syndrome, but that’s just how the show has been working so far, it’s a lot about negative space, so I’m giving them a pass.

Me the other day, as a joke: the horse is the fantasyland equivalent of the Impala. This episode: if he wasn’t a hunter witcher he’d work with cars horses. *deep inhale* Okay.

Ah. Her dream is to be important to someone, yes. A child of her own would be a sure way of achieving that.

Alright, this scene was sweet. They lil stupid faces when they wake up together. They’re dumbasses but cute.

And Ciri is caught. This guy is either feeding her some fat lies or not, let’s see. He speaks destiny stuff so he probably believes what he’s saying. The camping party was talking about the religious zealotry of Nifgaard peeps. He’s probably the religious righteous type, which is the most dangerous type.

OH! Now this is intriguing! It’s Them(TM). And yes, he believes the prophecy stuff, and the shapeshifter thinks he’s insane. Yep.

Yennefer cheats at track and field.

I have a theory about the dragon, let’s see.

Ho ho ho! This is great, the ladies are alive, Suspicious Guy was not what he appeared uh.

I was right, the dragon was a she and had a baby. That was my theory. Yennefer was after it for motherhood reasons... but the real motherhood was the dragon she was after all along.

Suspicious Guy was indeed a gold dragon, the rarest, the ones with the very peculiar mutation... of course. I should have expected it. He hired the only person who’d empathize with dragons and could protect the baby dragon. 

Mama Duck Geralt Foreshadowing Abounds!!

Sorry guys, Team Protect Baby Dragon are the most badass people around.

Dracarys.

Ah, I’m so happy about how this episode went. Sorry for poor dragon mama, but the rest was 👌🏼

Dara is done with white people bullshit, which we can’t blame him for.

And now it’s time for draa~ama! They break up. I mean, I knew I’d happen because they’re dumbasses and just at the beginning of their character development arc. I want them to be each other’s weird ex that somehow is always involved accidentally in everything the other does.

Dragon Dude is like, forget heterosexuality, embrace your true nature as a Mama Duck.

Well, dumping your frustrations on Jaskier doesn’t seem fair. Aw, that’s so sad. Yennefer and Geralt speak the same emotional language, but Jaskier is a lil dumpling.

Fringilla boosts Creepy Religious Dude’s self-esteem. They have a Mission!

And we’ll see how it goes in the next installment...

This episode was really good. Yep.