According to some statistics it looks more like teaching sex ed (including consent) in school makes more young people realize they don't want to have sex yet or at all or don't want to do some specific sexual activities (also obvious from the increase of popularity of asexual-spectrum identities). Allegedly, young people who have accurate information about sexual activities and access to contraception, on average become sexually active later and are less likely to be affected by STIs or unplanned pregnancies.
the earthquake that struck afghanistan and killed more than a thousand and estranged many more is getting little to no media coverage. it’s ridiculous to think about how the world would’ve reacted if that same calamity were to hit a western nation. please pray for the oppressed whose voice is never loud enough to be heard.
sorry if i’m being a party pooper but because rabies is apparently the new joke on here ??? please remember that rabies has an almost 100% fatality rate after symptoms develop so if you’re bitten or scratched by an animal that you aren’t 100% sure is vaccinated then GO TO A DOCTOR. it’s not a joke. really.
You’re being kind when you say “almost 100% fatality”. What people need to hear is: if you get to develop rabies symptoms, you’re dead. If you get heavy treatment after developping symptoms, you still need a miracle. Like, a real miracle, you should enter some religion if you escape that.
ALSO, I don’t want people feeling confident about petting stray/wild animals because there’s a vaccine available, either. I’ll explain why from my own experience (I’m not a doctor).
I got bitten by a wild tamarin once, on the pulp of my index finger. It drew blood, there are many wild animals in the area (tamarins, possums, bats, foxes) and it isn’t that uncommon to hear about 1 or 2 rabies cases every now and again (a puppy we gave to a friend got it, for instance), so I went to an ambulatory immediately.
Because I was bitten in an ultrasensitive area, I needed fast treatment. But it was also a small area, so the usual thing they do - inject the vaccine in the place - wasn’t a choice. They told me they’d divide the shot in 5 small ones, and inject me all over my body, so the antidote would get to my entire system fast.
Please stop for a moment and think that the disease is so worrysome that they’d rather needle me all over than to give me one shot and wait until it spread through my system.
Then they said that, okay, but there was a catch first. I needed to take an antiallergic shot. “Why?” “Because the virus is devastating, and as the vaccine is made from it, but weakened (like almost every vaccine) it will still create a reaction, and it’s a strong one, and it’s veru common for people to have strong allergic reactions to it.” YOU HAVE TO TAKE AN ANTIALLERGIC SHOT IN ORDER TO TAKE THE VACCINE COZ THE VACCINE COULD POTENTIALLY MAKE YOU REALLY SICK
ALSO IT WASN’T JUST “A LITTLE ANTIALLERGIC SHOT”
IT WAS ONE OF THESE FUCKERS HERE.
It was OBVIOUSLY dripped in my body and not injected because HAHAHAHA. Truth be told I was an adult already and I’m tall so I have a lot of mass but STILL.
So after I had taken the antiallegic and was starting to feel drowsy (as a side effect of it) the doctor came with the 5 shots.
- One in each buttock
- One in each thigh
- One in my left arm
They all stung like a bitch and I usually don’t care about shots.
“Okay so can I go home now?”
“No, we have to keep you under observation for 2h so we’re SURE the vaccine won’t give you any reaction.”
BINCH I WAS GIVEN A BUTTLOAD OF MEDICINE BUT THERE WAS STILL A RISK.
I slept through the two hours and then was liberated to go home. My legs, butt, and left arm hurt all over, like I had been punched there, for a few days. I also had a fever (not feverish, a fever)
BUT DID YOU THINK IT WAS OVER?
WRONG!!!
I had to take four reinforcement shots in the next month, one a week, so I could be positively be considered immunized. Every time I took a shot, my arm would swell and hurt like it’d been hit, and when night came I’d have a fever. Because that’s how fucking strong the vaccine is, BECAUSE THAT’S HOW VICIOUS THE VIRUS IS.
So yeah. DO NOT PUT YOURSELF IN RISK, GODDAMNIT. Rabies is a rare condition all over, THANK GOD, and 1 confirmed case can be already considered a surge and a reason for mass campaigning, AND FOR A REASON.
If you like messing with stray/wild animals, don’t go picking them up and be extra careful. Or just, like, DON’T - call a vet or an authority that can handle them safely.
I must add that I live in a country with universal healthcare, so I didn’t pay a single penny for my treatment. Is this your reality? If not, ONE MORE REASON TO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH THIS SHIT.
Rabies is 100% lethal. Period. If you are scratched or bitten by an animal you’re not positive is vaccinated, you need to find treatment NOW. And probably go through all that shit I’ve been through (also if you are immunosupressed? I DON’T KNOW WHAT’D HAPPEN)
Guys, I know this isn’t art nor anything like that, but I’ve been hearing about this rabies thing and ???? Look I trust none of you would risk yourselves like this, but maybe you can educate someone through my experience and stuff.
Also rabies does not necessarily cause frothing-at-the-mouth aggression in animals. Docility is also a very common symptom so any wild animal that is ‘friendly’ or ‘likes to be pet’ is suspect. Literally any wild animal is a vector.
Finally, you don’t need to be bitten. All you need is to come into contact with an infected animal’s bodily fluids through a cut that maybe you didn’t notice when you were handling it when it drooled on you.
Infection with the rabies virus progresses through three distinct stages.
Prodromal: Stage One. Marked by altered behavioral patterns. “Docility” and “likes to be pet” are very common in the prodromal stage. Usually lasts 1-3 days. An animal in this stage carries virus bodies in its saliva and is infectious.
Excitative: Stage Two. Also called “furious” rabies. This is what everyone thinks rabies is–hyperreacting to stimuli and biting everything. Excessive salivation occurs. Animals in this stage also exhibit hydrophobia or the fear of water; they cannot drink (swallowing causes painful spasms of the throat muscles), and will panic if shown water. Usually lasts 3-4 days before rapidly progressing into the next stage.
Paralytic: Stage Three. Also called “dumb” rabies. As the infection runs its course, the virus starts degrading the nervous system. Limbs begin to fail; animals in this stage will often limp or drag their haunches behind them. If the animal has survived all this way, death will usually come through respiratory arrest: Their diaphragm becomes paralyzed and they stop breathing.
And to add onto the above, saliva isn’t the only infectious fluid. Brain matter is, too. If, somehow, you find yourself in possession of a firearm and faced with a rabid animal, do not go for a head shot. If you do, you will aerosolize the brain matter and effectively create a cloud of infectious material. Breathe it in, and you’ll give yourself an infection.
When I worked in wildlife rehabilitation, I actually did see a rabid animal in person, and it remains one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, because I was literally looking death in the eyes.
A pair of well-intentioned women brought us a raccoon that they thought had been hit by a car. They had found it on the side of the road, dragging its hind legs. They managed–somehow–to get it into a cat carrier and brought it to us.
As they brought it in, I remember how eerily silent it was. Normal raccoons chatter almost constantly. They fidget. They bump around. They purr and mumble and make little grabby-hands at everything. Even when they’re in pain, and especially when they’re stressed. But this one wasn’t moving around inside the carrier, and it wasn’t making a sound.
The clinic director also noticed this, and he asked in a calm but urgent voice for the women to hand the carrier to him. He took it to the exam room and set it on the table while they filled out some forms in the next room. I took a step towards the carrier, to look at our new patient, and without turning around, he told me, “Go to the other side of the room, and stay there.”
He took a small penlight out of the drawer and shone it briefly into the carrier, then sighed. “Bear, if you want to come look at this, you can put on a mask,” he said. “It’s really pretty neat, but I know you’re not vaccinated and I don’t want to take any chances.”
And at that point, I knew exactly what we were dealing with, and I knew that this would be the closest I had ever been to certain death. So I grabbed a respirator from the table and put it on, and held my breath for good measure as I approached the table. The clinic director pointed where I should stand, well back from the carrier door. He shone the light inside again, and I saw two brilliant flashes of emerald green–the most vivid, unnatural eyeshine I had ever seen.
“I don’t know why it does it,” the director murmured, “but it turns their eyes green.”
“What does?” one of the women asked, with uncanny, unintentionally dramatic timing, as she poked her head around the corner.
“Rabies,” the director said. “The raccoon is rabid. Did it bite either of you, or even lick you?” They told us no, said they had even used leather garden gloves when they herded it into the carrier. He told them to throw away the gloves as soon as possible, and steam-clean the upholstery in their car. They asked how they should clean the cat carrier; they wanted it back and couldn’t be convinced otherwise, so he told them to soak it in just barely diluted bleach.
But before we could give them the carrier back, we had to remove the raccoon. The rabid raccoon.
The clinic director readied a syringe with tranquilizers and attached it to the end of a short pole. I don’t remember how it was rigged exactly–whether he had a way to push down the plunger or if the needle would inject with pressure–but all he would have to do was stick the animal to inject it. And so, after sending me and the women back to the other side of the room, he made his fist jab.
He missed the raccoon.
The sound that that animal made on being brushed by the pole can only be described as a roar. It was throaty and ragged and ungodly loud. It was not a sound that a raccoon should ever make. I’m convinced it was a sound that a raccoon physically could not make.
It thrashed inside the carrier, sending it tipping from side to side. Its claws clattered against the walls. It bellowed that throaty, rasping sound again. It was absolutely frenzied, and I was genuinely scared that it would break loose from inside those plastic walls.
Somehow, the clinic director kept his calm, and as the raccoon jolted around inside the cat carrier, he moved in with the syringe again, and this time, he hit it. He emptied the syringe into its body and withdrew the pole.
And then we waited.
We waited for those awful screams, that horrible thrashing, to die down. As we did, the director loaded up another syringe with even more tranquilizer, and as the raccoon dropped off into unconsciousness, he stuck it a second time with the heavier dose. Even then, it growled at him and flailed a paw against the wall.
More waiting, this time to make sure the animal was truly down for the count.
Then, while wearing welder’s gloves, the director opened the door of the carrier and removed the raccoon. She was limp, bedraggled, and utterly emaciated, but she was still alive. We bagged up the cat carrier and gave it to the women again, advising them that now was a good time to leave. They heeded our warning.
I asked if I could come closer to see, and the clinic director pointed where I could stand. I pushed the mask up against my face and tried to breathe as little as possible.
He and his co-director–who I think he was grooming to be his successor, but the clinic actually went under later that year–examined the raccoon together. Donning a pair of nitrile gloves, he reached down and pulled up a handful, a literal fistful, of the raccoon’s skin and released it. It stayed pulled up.
Severe dehydration causes a phenomenon called “skin tenting”. The skin loses its elasticity somewhat, and will be slow to return to its “normal” shape when manipulated. The clinic director estimated that it had been at least four or five days since the raccoon had had anything to eat or drink.
She was already on death’s doorstep, but her rabies infection had driven her exhausted body to scream and lunge and bite.
Because, the scariest thing about rabies (if you ask me) is the way that it alters the behavior of those it infects to increase chances of spreading.
The prodromal stage? Nocturnal animals become diurnal–allowing them to potentially infect most hosts than if they remained nocturnal.
The excitative stage? The infected animal bites at the slightest provocation. Swallowing causes painful spasms, so they drool, coating their bodies in infectious matter. A drink could wash away the virus-charged saliva from their mouth and bodies, so the virus drives them to panic at the sight of water.
(The paralytic stage? By that point, the animal has probably spread its infection to new hosts, so the virus has no need for it any longer.)
Rabies is deadly. Rabies is dangerous. In all of recorded history, one person survived an infection after she became symptomatic, and so far we haven’t been able to replicate that success. The Milwaukee Protocol hasn’t saved anyone else. Just one person. And even then, she still had to struggle to gain back control of her body after all that nerve damage.
Rebloggin’ for that raccoon. o.o The original post I can pretty much guarantee is a troll, but it’s useful to know just why rabies is such serious shit.
Extra reminder: If you see any animal other than a dog who’s been attacked by a porcupine? It’s rabid.
Dogs are dumb, friendly fucks who will investigate anything; everything else in the animal kingdom knows better than to mess with a porcupine, unless their brain is being ravaged by something beyond their control.
If you see a non-dog animal that has porcupine quills sticking out of it? Don’t try to help it yourself. Call animal control.
@talesfromtreatment @is-the-cat-video-cute tagging you to spread the word? Apparently people have forgotten that rabies is a brain disease, terrifying, is fatal if not treated immediately, the treatment is horrid, and the treatment is very expensive
Also I heard that in the USA, human rabies pre-exposure vaccines are not widely available and cost something like $900
Get your pets rabies vaccine every year, folks. Aside from everything else - and that’s a lot of everything - the test for rabies involves the brain, so the animal will be killed first.
And that is a kind end. The videos of rabies seizures are nightmarish
This is also why you’re not supposed to sleep outside without cover (ie a CLOSED tent) if there are swooping bats in your area. Apparently it can be very hard to realize you’ve been bitten by a bat (vs a bug, I guess it’s very small). Some students from my university were on a trip where they came into contact with bats, taking lots of selfies holding them etc, in the area they were supposed to be sleeping and the professor lost it when they saw some of the pictures. The students were housed elsewhere and the university had everyone vaccinated at the school’s expense- the pre-exposure vax may be expensive, but the number of shots you get post-exposure can vary (as demonstrated above) and it was ASTRONOMICAL.
When I looking for places to move to when I can finally leave the states, I looking to laws and procedures to bring my cat with. Any place that had eradicated rabies, intense policies and quarantines for any animal entering the country, unless you were coming from a different place that had also eradicated it. Some of would put your animal down if they were symptomatic at all. I remember thinking “what can’t rabies just treated?” No it can’t be, putting your pet down is the humane option if there symptomatic.
[image: a sixty-milliliter syringe, with human hand for scale. the syringe barrel is likely around five inches long and likely has an inside diameter of an inch or more.]
When I talk to my students about Louis Pasteur and the development of vaccines, I *have* to talk about rabies.
Do you know why “dog catcher” was such a serious occupation? Because in the late 1800s rabies ran rampant in urban street dogs. Because people who got bitten by street dogs… had probably just gotten a death sentence.
As a child, Louis Pasteur watched a man from his hometown die slowly, painfully, and unstoppably from rabies from a rabid wolf bite and it stuck with him so hard that when he grew up he put his own life on the line studying and working with rabid animals to develop a treatment. (Louis Pasteur’s wife, Marie Pasteur, was also a talented, passionate scientist who worked uncredited by his side. Many of their daughters also took up research.)
When Louis Pasteur did his first human test of his rabies vaccine, it was because a mother came to him desperate. Her 8 year old son had been bitten 14 times by a street dog. Doctors were certain he was going to die. She’d heard what Pasteur was working on and begged him to try to save her son.
He tried.
It worked.
This made national news. This made GLOBAL news.
And in the small Russian town of Beloi, locals read about this miracle cure. Their town had been attacked by a rabid wolf and twenty two people had been bitten. They knew these people were going to die. So the bitten people set off walking, carrying the most injured. They walked for weeks to get to France, where Pasteur was based.
When they arrived, the only French word they knew was “Pasteur.” Their cases were dangerously far along, possibly too far. Pasteur began treatment anyway, pushing with the most aggressive dosages he dared.
This also caught global attention. The world waited on tenterhooks.
Pasteur’s vaccine saved 19 out of 22.
The world was awed.
And when those Russian villagers returned home, to their families, it would have been like seeing the dead return.
to my fellow usamericans….in light of the supreme court overturning roe v wade, well known organizations like planned parenthood dont need your money right now - they have plenty - if you’re going to donate, donate to your local or state abortion funds
the national network of abortion funds allows you to split your donation between 91 abortion funds in the united states - it lists every fund your donation goes to and allows you to customize the amount you give to each fund
Friendly reminder that this blog is pro-choice and if you don’t think everyone should have full control of their own body, then kindly unfollow me right now and go to hell
Anyway pointing out how overturning roe will disproportionately affect people of color especially black people does not hurt the cause of feminism or class consciousness or whatever. It is fine & normal & necessary actually to point out how abortion access is often determined by your zip code or your income or your health insurance & how these issues intersect with systemic racism. Use your brains please
All this talk about gays not being able to drive is blatant erasure of those of us who were brave enough to weather the trials of the DMV (Forbes’ selection for Straightest Place on Earth eleven years in a row) so that we could return triumphant, finally able to drive each other to the 24 hr grocery store at 2 am, the gayest hour, to buy cheap vodka and takis
Stand up for your rights, auto homos! Don’t let them forget your sacrifices
i don’t think humans are inherently bad i just don’t. once i posted about how i can’t ever get poached eggs right and someone took time out of their day to send me tips on how to make them. they used their finite time on this planet to teach me how to poach an egg with no motivation other than helping a stranger have a better breakfast and if that isn’t proof humanity is worth saving i don’t know what is
was crying to a friend at a bar about leaving my academic program and this random woman came up to me and was like, “is it about a boy? tell me where he is. i’ll beat his ass.” and i was like omg no you’re so kind but it’s much weirder than that, i recently quit academia and i’m feeling extremely conflicted about it. she was nice but i fully expected her to leave because that’s a very niche thing and like hey, she was hanging out with her friends.
she sat down and spent the next several minutes telling me how it was all gonna work out and she knows my life is gonna be better now. just wait five years and i’ll see she’s right.
and i felt better about my specific problem, but i also felt better about a world where someone will see a stranger crying at a bar and her deepest instinct is to reach out and help.
The last time I was in the hospital to stay in. There was a lady in my ward who, when she overheard me talking to the doctor about Judaism, sat and woke up whenever I did and told me stories about her family and how they celebrated different Jewish holidays. She held my hand when I had to have different IVs.
When I saw spring awakening for the first time, the lady who sat on my row paid 58 pound on a cab to get me home because she saw me have a panic attack and didn't want me hurt.
Humanity exists to breed humanity. The world is good sometimes.
Last semester, I had a science teacher who played music before class. I asked her what the name of the song was, and along with giving me the title, she also gave me the whole playlist where the song was from. It also had other songs she played before.
She's not teaching in our school anymore, but when she emailed us our grades, she thanked me for being interested in her music taste and offered to give me recommendations if I needed it. She didn't have to go or do that far, she didn't even have to give me the playlist.
It feels nice; the playlist she sent me feels like I have a little piece of her.
The night before I left my study abroad in London, I ended up in the ER with a UTI. That was bad enough, but the real issue I was struggling with was that I was stressed to the max about how I was going to get to the airport the next morning, because the tube maps were still confusing to someone as directionally challenged as I am, and heaving suitcases up and down the stairs in the tube stations was difficult. This is relevant because, in the 6 or so hours that I spent in the waiting room for my test results, I befriended an elderly couple that was also there, and it turns out that their son was a cab driver. They promised me that he would be waiting outside my flat the next morning to take me to the airport. And you know what? He was. I got to the airport with time to spare and he helped me with my luggage and everything.
Another time, back in my home city, I was in danger of not being able to continue my schooling if my financial aid didn’t go through. Problem was, my university’s financial aid office is cruel and uncaring, and refused to return any of my calls or emails. I finally went to the office in person to ask them if my request for continued financial aid had been accepted, and they said, “Eh, we don’t know, we’ll get back to you.” Completely defeated, I found an out of the way hallway to cry in.
Only, it wasn’t as out of the way as I thought. Another student saw me crying, and came over to ask what was wrong. I explained the situation to her, and her face hardened. “Come with me,” she said, and she marched me back into the financial aid office and demanded the clerk actually go look at my file to see if my request had been submitted. Once they went and retrieved my file, she patted me on the shoulder, said, “Good luck,” and left. I never saw her again after that, though I wish I could have bought her a coffee at least. She went out of her way to help me and I never even learned her name. (My request had been accepted, btw. Weeks prior. They just didn’t feel like telling me.)
There really is goodness and kindness in the world, but it doesn’t stop with us in these moments. We always have to remember to pay it forward, however we can. If you ever have an opportunity where you can be kind, or you can turn the other way, be kind. Always choose to be kind.
Kindness is even in the little gestures! So often strangers will see someone taking a photo or selfie of friends and offer to take it for them. People will hold open a door out of courtesy, wish you well when you sneeze, leave room for you while driving, and cut in line at a store.
People create things for free, just to make others happy. People build upon patterns, make improvements, offer solutions, write up tutorials, everything! The human urge to create and to help is really beautiful to me.
I didnt realize Elon Musk had other kids from before Grimes, but learning he has an 18 year old trans daughter who is legally filing a name change to match her gender identity and so she'll no longer be related to her father in name really puts his "pronouns suck" "this isnt your heart" shenanigans into a much worse light.
There are a lot of fics in the fandom where Jaskier is a concubine or bed warmer and is gifted to Geralt (usually warlord Geralt) and that becomes his path to freedom and love. Some of them are among the best fics in the fandom. One of them is one of my favorite fics ever.
But I do get to thinking...
Men who are physically strong and skilled in combat (like Geralt) can also be exploited. In fact, physical power is one of the most limited forms of power, and witchers are exploited and oppressed in canon. And by the same token, men who can't wield a weapon (like Jaskier), can be very powerful if they are born into the correct family.
So. What if we flip their roles in the narrative? (I'm sure there are flipped fics out there, but I'm going to spin my own idea for a minute.) Alright. Here we go. My idea for Prince Jaskier/Gladiator Geralt.
CW for references to past sexual abuse. Do not read further if you don't want to read any references to sexual abuse. As I said, it is a reversal of the trope mentioned above, so none of the abuse is between Geralt and Jaskier, but the premise does involve servitude and abuse.
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Jaskier is a prince sent out on his very first diplomatic visit. He has been chosen for this task (negotiating a treaty) because he has come of age, and his father wants him to make a match with the princess. His father has managed to keep his country's economic crisis a secret, but it won't stay that way for long. If Jaskier can impress his hosts perhaps he can marry the princess, and his people will be pulled back from the brink of financial ruin.
But before Jaskier goes, his father counsels him that he will see some barbaric practices in this other country. Though this other country is wealthy and advanced technologically, it still engages in things like gladiator fights and indentured servitude. Jaskier says that he understands. He can keep his mouth shut no matter what he sees. He knows that they are counting on him.
The first day of the visit goes well. During a long session of intense negotiations, Jaskier makes a brilliant first impression, so much so that the king invites him to be the guest of honor at a gladiator fight. Jaskier does not have a stomach for violence or gore. So he downs a few goblets of wine to take the edge off and to keep himself relaxed enough to not vomit at the first sight of entrails.
Their prize gladiator is a striking, white haired warrior with mystical powers. He has an enviable streak of wins, and the people love him. Part of why they love him is because he seems to hate killing people. He will do it efficiently and well, in order to defend his life. But when they push someone out into the ring that is ill prepared or a poor match for him, he does everything he can to stall or stop the fight.
Once, the king tells Jaskier, he refused to fight and managed to convince his opponent to refuse to fight. They publicly executed several prisoners in retaliation, so now he fights. But he curses them elaborately after every win.
Instead of it weighing on their conscience, however, the audience moons over him as a noble assassin, a killer with a heart of gold. It's the irony, it's the angst. They love him. Not enough to free him of course, but they love him.
Jaskier worries he is not drunk enough for this, but he manages. As expected, the warrior wins the fight. It is a tough match against a skilled and weathered opponent. But he fights with the mesmerizing grace of a brutal dancer and he wins in a spectacular fashion. The crowd goes berserk.
Though Jaskier finds the warrior incredibly compelling, his eyes drawn to him over and over like a beacon, he is relieved as fuck that the whole thing is over. He can't wait to go back to his room and cleanse away the memory of that horrible pulsing severed carotid with maybe a song or another drink. He can't wait to have more power and ban some of these horrific practices.
But before he can get back to his room, the king makes him an offer that he is entirely unprepared for. He has taken such a liking to Jaskier that he offers to send the champion up to his room.
That is when Jaskier learns that the royal ladies (and some of the men) take great pride in partaking of the warrior after a match. It is the highest honor.
It's partly his beautiful physique. They have special clothing made up for him that resembles his armor, but offers more access. It's partly the danger and the thrill of conquering such a violent beast. They bind him and they station guards close by so he can't retaliate. But the thought that he could kill them with the twist of a wrist is part of the appeal. It is also partly the exclusivity. The entire kingdom loses their mind for this warrior, but it is only they who have access to him. It gives these wealthy, bored, royals a rare thrill.
When his host explains all of this, Jaskier's stomach drops almost to the soles of his shoes. His first instinct is to be outraged. To say no. His kingdom has done away with bed warmers and...well...sex slaves, really. He has been brought up to believe that ravaging someone, anyone, is a base, cruel, horrible thing to do.
So he almost says no. He almost shouts it. Frankly, he would like to slap the king across his smug beastly face. Obviously he can't do that. But he wants to. But then a thought flickers across his mind. If he says no, then this warrior will be sent to someone else. And who knows who that person will be and what they will do to him.
Jaskier feels sick to his stomach when he accepts the king's offer. He hopes his disgust isn't apparent. He tries to make it sound lusty. To his own ears, he fails at it. Besides his disgust for the idea, he is also incredibly inexperienced. If he has to feign an intimate understanding of the specifics of sex, he'll reveal himself to be the young amateur that he is.
But the king is so drunken and self absorbed that he doesn't even notice. He claps Jaskier on the back, calls him my boy, and motions to his guards. The guards jump to attention. The king points down to the arena at the warrior. The warrior is slick with sweat and blood and grime. He is quietly cleaning his sword with a far away look on his face. The cheers of the crowd weigh on him.
Just then, the warrior looks up at Jaskier. His golden eyes feel like a punch to the solar plexus. He sees what is happening. He knows who is being conferred the honor of his body tonight.
Jaskier wants to mouth an apology. To explain himself. Of course he can't. They are too far apart and there is too much noise between them. Besides. Jaskier is currently pretending to be into this. But his eyes slide away guiltily. He feels queasy and he is regretting the wine right about now.
The king asks Jaskier if he wants the warrior grimy or clean. They can bathe him before they send him up, or they can just walk him up as he is, for a more authentic experience. Jaskier feels a cold fury bubbling inside. He shoves it down. He says to send him as he is. Jaskier will draw a bath in his own room and give the gladiator privacy.
The king makes a crude joke about Jaskier liking it dirty, and he almost bites through his tongue in order to hold it. He tastes copper.
Soon, Jaskier is alone in his room, pacing the marble floors, clenching and unclenching his fists. He is deep in concentration, trying to figure out how to play this. When the guards bring the warrior, will they leave? Or will they insist on staying close by? How will Jaskier hide his true intentions from them? Whatever they see, they will undoubtedly report to the king.
Jaskier chews his bottom lip and whispers to himself, practicing what he will say to the warrior if he can get them alone.
You'll be safe tonight.
You don't have to do anything.
Would you like to bathe yourself? I won't look.
Do you want...other clothes?
Suddenly Jaskier feels like the inexperienced, sheltered young prince that he is. His success during negotiations this morning feels like a fluke. He has never taken charge of anything. He's not even fully finished with his second decade of life. Why did he think he could do this? He can hear his own heart beating so hard that his chest cavity is vibrating. He is terrified. Terrified what this grizzled warrior will see when he looks at him. Terrified he will fuck it all up.
When the guards drag in the champion, he has to duck to pass through the doorway. His broad shoulders fill it almost entirely. He comes to stop in the middle of the room, his chains settling and his shoulders stiffening. They have changed him into his costume, which is little more than flimsy strips of leather. Wide expanses of skin glisten with sweat. He lifts his chin and his eyes bore quietly into Jaskier.
Jaskier swallows hard. He can feel his fingers trembling, so he clasps them at his waist. There is something about this man. He isn't like anyone Jaskier has ever met before. There is honesty and nobility but also flint and defiance in his eyes.
The young prince is indeed inexperienced, but in that moment, he understands something very important. He knows the truth in his very bones, and the truth is this...
He is in way over his head. He is utterly doomed.
Not because of the guards or because of his host, the lecherous king. He isn't even doomed because of his father or his obligations.
He is doomed because he already knows in his marrow that he will give anything, sacrifice anything, maybe even his own people, to give this man anything he needs.
Ok I’ve thought about what that first night would be like.
———
Jaskier manages the guards but just barely, and not before he blurts out an awkward protest… “Leave us alone so I can…touch….his penis and testicles!”
Geralt tries not to laugh out loud and bitterly. Who the fuck is this kid and what the holy shitting fuck is he doing?
Then Jaskier removes Geralt’s shackles, draws him a bath, and gives him a privacy curtain. Geralt is so shocked that it takes him a moment to stop rubbing his wrists and actually lower himself into the bath. He keeps his costume on.
Jaskier begins to babble from the other side of the curtain and is so naive and gentle and genteel, that it immediately gets under Geralt’s skin. He even has the utter audacity to ask Geralt how he is doing.
This princeling clearly has no idea how the world works. And tomorrow he will be gone and Geralt’s life will be exactly the same. Even the thought of trusting or enjoying this for a moment only to be thrust back into sexual servitude feels like a blade through the gut.
Geralt snaps at Jaskier. He says that he would far prefer for Jaskier to fuck him than to ask him about his goddamn feelings so would he please shut the fuck up and get on with it. Throw him the oil and tell him what to slick up.
Geralt knows that talking like this sometimes gets him gagged. But he can’t think straight.
Jaskier almost chokes on his tongue and turns ten shades of red, and more anger bubbles up inside Geralt. As soon as Jaskier gets experience, as soon as he really understands what is his for the taking, he’ll change. He’ll become just like them.
So Geralt threatens him. You’re an idiot for unshackling me. Don’t you know what I am? Well, If you won’t take me, maybe I’ll take you. The guards are too far away now for you to call for help.
Despite his efforts to loom over Jaskier, water dripping from his body, the princeling isn’t afraid in the slightest. He says that he saw the look on Geralt’s face when he killed his opponent. He’s a good man. He says it with complete conviction. He says it with kindness.
It is overwhelming for Geralt to hear. The last thing he feels like with so much blood on his hands is good. The only way he can stay in control of his emotions is by assuring himself that this prince is a naive fucking idiot.
But.
He is also beautiful. Geralt has eyes. He can’t deny that. He has a fresh, hopeful beauty that burns a hole in Geralt’s chest. He looks like a prince from a fairy tale in his richly colored immaculately tailored coat. His voice is musical and he carries himself with a grace and lightness that feels so alien but so mesmerizing.
Jaskier tells him to sleep on the bed. He’ll take the chaise lounge. Geralt can’t sleep, obviously. He just lies stiff as a board, watching Jaskier. Jaskier doesn’t touch him. He casually drapes himself on the lounge and reads, though Geralt can see that the book is upside down.
The queen comes by to demand her turn with Geralt, but Jaskier thinks quickly and manages to put her off. He’s growing more confident. He doesn’t even say anything about penises.
A weakness for this absurd person begins to creep into Geralt’s chest. He grunts that Jaskier can lay on the bed next to him, if he truly isn’t afraid that Geralt will strangle him in his sleep. He makes it sound like a threat. But Jaskier does. He lies down next to him.
In the morning, Geralt watches the sun rise through the window. The gladiators quarters are underground and the entrance boarded up. Usually he is hustled back there after the person using him is done. So, it’s the first time he’s seen the sunrise in ages.
He watches the golden rays stretch through the window and caress Jaskier’s cheeks. Geralt can’t help but stare at him and feel….something. Overwhelmed. He wants to shout. Shake him. Tell him the world isn’t fucking like this and he’s going to get himself killed. He feels a deep, sudden, almost violent desire to protect him.
That makes him even angrier. It’s stupid. He’s the slave. Not Jaskier. A fact he is reminded of when he is sent back to the gladiator quarters in the morning.
Jaskier quickly whispers that he will do whatever it takes to free him. It’s the first time in a long time that Geralt has actually wanted to kill someone, along with all of the hope that threatens to alight in his heart and ruin him. But also it’s the first time in a long time that he has wanted to kiss someone.
As he catches his last glimpse of bereft, doe eyes watching him leave, Geralt understands one thing very clearly.
Geralt Season 1: I’ve never met you in my life. you bastard. you fiend. stop this at once.
Geralt season 2: Where Is My Kisses From Jaskier??? Where Is My Snuggles And Cuddles That I Crave So Dearly. You Are A Cruel And Unjust Bard And I Am Going To Scream.
what if there was a Butcher of Blaviken gwent card and Jaskier made it his personal goal in life to 1) burn all of them to ashes so Geralt’s one and only hobby never betrays him like that
and
2) get the Continent’s gwent card manufacturers to replace them with Geralt of Rivia or White Wolf cards
#bonus: Jaskier’s gwent playing identity is different from his barding identity #and Geralt is just like ‘Why do I never run into this Dandelion fellow?’ #it all comes to a head when the man with the Last Butcher Card enters a tournament and Jaskier sets his sights on him #only to find out that the man with the card is GERALT and Jaskier has to defeat Geralt’s gwent game in order to defeat his self-loathing
#meanwhile Geralt has just found out that Jaskier is the gwent white whale who’s been evading him for decades and he is Extremely Into That #(geralt after monster hunting: what did you get up to? jaskier: just some dice poker definitely nothing interesting.) #(geralt: don’t know why you always have to burn something to celebrate.) #(jaskier with a beatific smile: it’s an offering to melitele. I look forward to telling nenneke about my blossoming spirituality)
