...there was a Tankskier
05 Nov 2020
Geralt’s eyes go wide as saucers as he takes in the form of the man; he’s easily over two metres tall, his shoulders wide and strong, arms thick as an average man’s thigh. Beneath his too tight, seams visibly straining, creme chemise, dark hair is visible, dusting his strong chest. There’s something about this man, something achingly familiar in the tone of his voice, in the way he hogs his pillow, the way his limbs are strewn about everywhere on the bed, and Geralt wonders who he reminds him of.
28 Nov 2020
“You know what, Geralt? Let’s go send a falcon to Kaer Morhen immediately, let them know we are coming.”
“I know,” Jaskier smiles mischievously. Oh no, what is he planning? “That’s an excellent opportunity to have some harmless fun.” Geralt sighs. “Oh don’t worry, it’s nothing bad, love. Just, well, don’t mention my… witcheriness in the letter? Best case scenario, they just think me an enormous human, and we get the chance to have fun dropping hints till they catch on. And worst-case scenario, they catch on immediately and I’m revealed to be a witcher and we get to see their surprised faces. See? Harmless.”
Or: Jaskier is a 7ft tall witcher and he and Geralt want to play a joke on the Kaer Morons