WHY DO WE NOT TALK ABOUT THE FACT THAT JASKIER SPEAKS ELDER???
WHY DO WE NOT TALK ABOUT THIS??
the possibilities
we’re missing out on so much here
i also think he knows Nilfgaardian since their language is derived from Elder and i did consult with a few multilinguals for these headcanons, but i got the most help from the wonderful @dhwty-writes!
cursing in Elder purely because the accent makes it 1000% sexier and those were the first words he learned in Elder (we all know he’s a dramatic bitch like that im just SAYING that Jaskier cursing in Elder would be hot)
being annoyed that he cant translate a certain phrase into another language because it wont make sense, but hes a poet, he should be good at this
slipping words in Elder into conversations had in Common because it flows better and then forgetting what the Common word actually is
completely mispronouncing certain words in Elder/Nilfgaardian because he’s better at reading/writing and those words sound so different in his head
switching between Common and Elder when talking to Geralt (since he also speaks Elder, but i dont think he speaks Nilfgaardian) and Geralt correcting him on pronounciation
Geralt and Jaskier arguing over how things are pronounced in Elder
casually and unknowingly using overdramatic adjectives and getting Looks from Geralt because ‘dude wtf are you talking about’
Nilfgaardians immediately being able to tell it’s not his native language because his accent is just Bad. its barely different from his Elder accent and he sounds like hes from the 9th century
alternatively: Nilfgaardians straight up not being able to understand him because his accent is so bad
will i be writing about this a lot in the near future? YES I WILL
okay so I just realized that in the picture of geralt for season 2, his potions are all strapped to his LEG?!
there are so many ways that this is a dumb decision that will end in disaster, try and prove me wrong
are you telling me that the second that chaotic witcher bastard does a little flip or gets thrown across the room, those potions WON’T all IMMEDIATELY fly out of his little harness and scatter all over the floor?
i’m just picturing geralt frantically trying to scoop up his potions while being attacked by an arch griffin
one time he throws himself on tree stump in a dramatic huff and there’s just a *CrUnCh* and jaskier starts laughing uncontrollably while geralt tries to pretend he didn’t just smash all of his potions by SITTING on them
by season 2 jaskier just has the potions strapped to him at all times because it’s not like he’s ever very far from geralt in the first place, and for as much as geralt is good at monster hunting that man does NOT know how to responsibly hold onto his life saving witcher potions
eventually vesemir just teaches jaskier how to brew all of the potions because at this point the bard exclusively handles them anyways
jaskier is very proud of this and declares himself the ‘Master of the Potions’
(there’s a straight week where he refuses to answer to anything other than that, it takes geralt two days to cave)
geralt pretends to be annoyed at how seriously jaskier takes his job as ‘witcher potion holder’ but secretly it melts his heart to see jaskier so delicately handling the bottles and painstakingly brewing replacements
all in all, geralt is a big softie witcher who is literally incapable of keeping his nice things, so they have to be trusted to his bard boyfriend who once ate a handful of rocks because he thought they were ‘very chewy nuts geralt, I swear!’
they’re so stupid but at least they have each other
✨ hurt/comfort prompt! ✨ just geralt feeling very, very tired and overwhelmed after a particularly complicated hunt (which lasted weeks), returning to the inn where jaskier is waiting for him. jaskier knows that something is wrong, but he only realizes the gravity of it when geralt, out of nowhere, starts crying. and he has never seen him cry.
Nonie, I love you. I am a hoe for some emotional release. Without further ado, let us make the boy cry.
Warnings: talk of a nasty hunt? of people being the real nasties? not much tho
__________
Jaskier was stirred from his disappointingly light sleep by an unexpected weight on the bed. He rolled into Geralt, sleepy confusion fading when he recognized his wolf and curled around his hips, resting his hand at the small of the larger man’s back.
“You’re back.”
Geralt grunted, tearing at his gloves with a heavy scowl on his face.
Jaskier sat up next to him, only now realizing Geralt was still in his armor, boots and all, “Here, love. Let me.” he was still groggy with sleep but his hands worked faster than Geralt’s.
When he’d taken care of the gloves, he unbuckled the rest of his armor, tossing it to a chair in the corner with just enough care to keep Geralt quiet. He didn’t notice till he was done how the witcher was holding his breath. He took long inhales, holding it until he couldn’t any longer, then stunted exhales that made Jaskier worry he was sick.
The bard untied his hair, running his hands through the length in a practiced soothing motion, “Are you alright?”
Geralt nodded, wiping a hand over his face, “Tired.”
Jaskier slid off the bed onto the floor to unlace Geralt’s boots. He knew that tone all too well; the hunt was over and he had given everything he had and more. The last time he’d heard it the witcher had slept for three days.
Jaskier sat back on his heels, having removed his shoes, and looked Geralt over for wounds he may not have noticed from the high of his potions. What he found broke his heart.
Geralt was shaking, not from any wound or fever, but from exhaustion and a kind of pain no salve could fix. His fists were clenched tight and he glared at the ground as if it had chosen his path for him, bitter and angry and lost. He must have heard some change in Jaskier’s heartbeat, sparing him a worried glance before shaking his head ever so slightly.
Jaskier rested a hand on his knee, rubbing his thumb over his knee cap as he whispered, “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Human,” Geralt blurted out the word almost before Jaskier had finished, “it was a man…"
Jaskier swallowed his disgust and morbid questions, straightening to stand on his knees and resting a soft hand on Geralt’s stubbled cheek, “Do you feel guilty?”
Geralt snarled, “Fuck no.”
“Good, good…” the bard whispered, still not quite sure why he was so tense but worried nonetheless.
"When does it stop?" Geralt's voice was barely audible as he hesitantly set his hands on Jaskier's waist.
The bard brought his other hand up to cage the witcher’s face, looking into his golden eyes usually so alert and perceptive and only seeing sorrow, “What darling?”
At first, Jaskier thought it was a trick of the light when he saw tears welling as Geralt searched his face, looking for something he was sure he couldn’t give. As a tear escaped despite Geralt's best efforts, Jaskier realized he'd never, in thirteen years, seen his witcher cry.
"When-" Geralt sniffed, looking up at the ceiling, "-when will the people I'm supposed to- want to protect stop being the vilest things I come across?"
In that moment the pain in his chest felt so real Jaskier could have sworn his heart turned to stone, "Geralt…"
He found himself close to tears when those shining gold eyes met his and he thought for a moment he could share a fraction of his burden, "I don't know, love. I- I can't tell you…"
A look close to distress clouded Geralt's features as his breathing became more ragged and even more tears flooded from his eyes. As scared and hopeless and utterly exhausted as he was, he nodded, accepting his fate as he always eventually did, "Don't cry, Julek." He muttered, burying his head in his bard's neck.
Jaskier embraced him as fully as he could from his position on the floor, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back as he whispered, "Love, there's nothing wrong with crying."
Geralt's body shook with the first of many sobs that night, clinging to Jaskier with all he had left, "It fucking hurts."
Jaskier felt tears run down his own cheeks as he did his best to soothe his witcher, "I know, dear heart… I know… you deserve so much better…"
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