3D Background model from acon3D <3 They gave me a referral link for anyone interested in their models/ brush assets~
Took me embarrassingly long to paint this in but I’m so happy with the Greco-Roman/ Fantasy style models I’ve been getting from this site… I have so much power drawing this AU now >:^)
Bonus sketch I did at first but it ended up looking too much like two dads trying to teach their goth gay son how to swim at a kiddie pool
P.S. you can find the hairline used in the preview here
if you want to and even more importantly - can *afford* to - spare some coin, i’ll always appreciate any tips on my Ko-fi page <3 thank you very very much
dracula voice my three girlfriends. and yes, they suck blood.
do they suck blood?
yes, actually.
you mean they arent just drinking a juice? but a blood juice?
it’s called a bodily flud…. not juice… and yes, they are drinking human blood. they all drink blood before we kiss. (they are my girlfriends,)
they dont look like they drink blood
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
I’m so angry you are so lucky my three blood slorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “Blood drinking girlfriend” has a hello kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I commissioned an artist to create a portrait of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Aenemia or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I handpainted on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my castle at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Sanquine grabs my shoulder* Come on Count, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just tear you apart with my big fucking teeth. With each bite I let out a furious yell. The bites come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the bloodless husk that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs a visit to the lunatic asylum.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SUCK BLOOD HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Anaemia” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “vant to see you standing outside [his] castle holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the bloodless husk that is now your body”
I’m dying over here, jesus.
please, Dracula, come challenge me to a bout of journalistic witticisms; I promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…
*leaves with my three blood slorping girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this vamp playing omg
Come again? *The tavern falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty cup, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the tavern is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive sharp teeth that look like they were made for biting. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my teeth and instead of walking it’s biting. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Count Dracula publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Aenemia…. Sanquine… Palsma… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*
Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the tavern but are hit almost immediately from a carriage and are killed upon impact.*
I’ve missed sharing art and OCs and the like. Here’s a redraw I just recently finished of my characters from my “Spiral” universe in their beach line up for their beach filler episode, I suppose. (Season 2 edition dfhfhfgj)
It was hard to stay true to the ‘sketchy’ nature of it and not nitpick or focus on minor details. I think the original still holds up and has its own kind of charm, but I’m glad I could update it a little bit and add more interaction with some redesigns.
???? What??? But the houses have clear Elemental Gravitation?? Lemme elaborate:
Hufflepuff: Earth—they’re the rock foundation of the school, the hardworking stubborn caretakers (Like idk Mother Nature of the earth?) they have a common room in the dungeons, the known lowest area of the school.
Ravenclaw: Air—live in a tower. They’re a bit more flighty than earths and chance their minds a lot (one project to another to another to another) or when they make up their minds they’ll blow energy in one direction.
Gryffindor: Fire—known for hot tempers, impulsiveness, also live in a tower as a compliment to air.
Slytherin: Water—their dorms are literally under the lake. They’re the natural opposition to Gryffindor. They’re more liquid in their interactions than Hufflepuff but more grounded than Ravenclaw. And less impulsive than Gryffindor.
Oh boy! I rlly did it y’all. My best attempt at piecing together all of the Master’s regenerations/bodies/deaths in relation to each other. Please note that there’s probably quite a bit missing with this, and potentially errors as well, but canon’s a mess and only sort of exists!
I pieced this together mostly through my own knowledge and obsessing over every detail in The Master’s TARDIS Databanks page, which has things in more or less chronological order, as well as in more detail.
* - The method by which the Master escaped the Cheetah World and cured himself is thus far unknown. There are multiple possibilities, but the actual answer is vague and not certain.
See below the cut for both a textless version and a version with more information on the various times the Master has crossed their own timeline!
Wowza!
i literally spent all day making this instead of working on literally anything else!
Knitting mod - responses to responses to questions
Yo,
So it turns out that adding skill statistics (and potentially challenges) is pretty easy, and so I’m going to keep the skill not hidden, because the journal will at least have a purpose for looking at stats.
ANITMBsaid: I like the idea of not have skill challenges…knitting is mostly about relaxing and just enjoying the activity :)
A fair point and definitely the kind of vibe I want to go for here, though maybe one or two challenges like knitting a certain number of projects makes you faster at knitting would be a good middle-ground? Which I also feel like makes sense, because the more you knit, the faster you get, which isn’t necessarily the same as skill/harder projects?
SIMSDEOGLORIA said: I love the idea of projects being more grouped together into ‘beginner/intermediate/advanced’ …Personally I don’t ever use the skill journal (Is that weird?)
Honestly I never use them either! But it seems weird to me to have a completely empty journal :p And I guess that does make them pretty easy to ignore if you don’t want to bother with them. Glad you like grouped together projects!
PUFFKINS2000 said: Personally, I would like some failed knitting results…so I would prefer having some challenge to it. But I also like the idea of knitting to relax. Maybe there could be an option to knit for relaxing without knitting anything in particular? Also, is there a way to knit, perhaps, sweaters/hats/etc. to unlock in CAS as well?
Even without the skill journal there would still be failures, so if the sim has a low skill and attempts a high skill object, they’d likely fail. The skill journal challenges would be more like a bonus reward for knitting a lot etc. A knitting interaction that doesn’t go anywhere is actually a great idea, thank you! I guess it would be in the vein of “Practise Knitting” where the sim just knits until they are fed up, and there’s no outcome. That’s definitely something I want to add :D As for CAS items, it’s definitely crossed my mind but I don’t think it’s something I will look into until knitting objects is fully finished.
Thank you for storming your brains with me, and I will hopefully have some decent progress to show soon <3
Geralt pulls over to help a man whose car has broken down and finds that he has accidentally rescued his daughter’s favorite musician. A few days later, Ciri gets a wonderful birthday surprise.
There was not much else to do as he drove down the highway; the trip to pick his daughter up from her friend’s house was long and dull. At the moment, Geralt had an excellent reason to think about Ciri even more than he usually did. Her birthday approaching at a terrifyingly fast pace. It was the first birthday she would have as Geralt’s adopted daughter, and he desperately wanted it to be as happy as possible.
Ciri had already lost so much in her short almost-fourteen years of life. Geralt knew she loved him, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was not doing enough for her. He did not know if he could ever be an adequate parent for a such bright and lively young girl. He knew, though, that he would do almost anything to make her happy. The realization thrilled him as much as it terrified him.
Ciri often spoke with fond longing of the extravagant birthday celebrations her grandmother had thrown for her, so Geralt wanted her to experience joy like that again. He had to figure out how to give her the best birthday he could.
Geralt thought the best way to achieve this would be to ask what his daughter wanted. Unfortunately, it seemed that his question had been far too open-ended.
“What do you want to do for your birthday?” he had asked.
“Can it be anything?” she said, eyes widening in that way Geralt could never resist.
“Anything.”
“I want to meet Dandelion!” she said with a grin. Geralt suppressed a groan.
Dandelion was her favorite musician. She listened to him constantly, while doing everything from reading to homework to drawing to staring out the window. She asked to play his songs nearly every time she was in the car with Geralt. Hardly a day went by without one of his songs getting stuck in Geralt’s head.
Geralt would go to the ends of the earth for his daughter, but he didn’t think any amount of dedication could get Ciri a private meeting with a quickly-rising pop star.
He tried his very best but had no luck. All of Dandelion’s concert cost so much more than Geralt could afford that it was ridiculous to even contemplate going, in addition to at least being several days’ drive away. Geralt went as far as finding Dandelion’s manager’s Twitter account in the hopes he could somehow ask for the singer to call her briefly, but nothing looked promising. None of Dandleion’s PR team seemed like they would respond to a message from a single father who couldn’t pay them. After a long evening’s research, he was forced to give up the idea.
So now Geralt was here, whiling away the long drive to pick Ciri up from her friend’s house by trying to think of anything he could do for her birthday that might live up to both her hopes and his ideals of parenthood. He was so distracted, in fact, that he nearly didn’t notice the man waving his arms on the side of the road.
The man was standing beside a car that was pulled over. His colorful, once-neat outfit was thoroughly disheveled, and he looked desperate as he shouted something Geralt couldn’t hear.
Geralt slowed, pulled over, and rolled down his window. “What’s wrong?”
“Thank you so much,” the man said the moment Geralt’s window opened. “Nobody else would stop for me. I just fought with my best friend and my phone is dead and my car broke down and I’m running late to an important appointment and I would really, really appreciate it if you could give me a lift? It can just be to the next town, or maybe until my phone is charged if you have something I can use?”
Geralt thought about refusing. It was probably unwise to let a total stranger into his car, and he was already almost late to pick Ciri up. On the other hand, the man looked so desperate and sad and earnest that it seemed cruel to even think about turning him away.
After so many months of raising a thirteen-year-old girl, Geralt should have been immune to the power of enormous, pleading eyes. He was not.
He opened his car door. “Get in.”
The stranger blinked. “Wait, really?”
Geralt huffed. “Do you want me to change my mind?”
“Please don’t!” The man darted back to his own car for a moment to grab a backpack and presumably dead phone from the passengers’ seat.
“Don’t worry,” said Geralt, somewhat amused at the way the colorful man nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get his things. He clambered in next to Geralt and pulled the door shut quickly, as though afraid Geralt might actually change his mind and throw him bodily out of the car.
“Thank you so, so much,” gushed Geralt’s new companion. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stopped. This means the world.”
Geralt grunted. The praise made him feel strangely uncomfortable. “It’s fine.”
He pulled back onto the highway and continued driving.
“What’s your name, by the way?” said his passenger. “It’s fine if you’d rather I didn’t know. I understand. I’m just curious about the man who completely saved my day, is all.”
Geralt frowned a little. The man’s voice sounded oddly familiar when he spoke like this. He was sure he’d never seen his face before, though, so Geralt put the thought out of his mind.
“Geralt,” he said after a moment, answering the question.
“Ah, perfect! A wonderfully heroic name for my wonderful hero.” The man was grinning now, looking frankly too happy for someone who was recently stranded on the side of the road. “I’m Jaskier!”
Geralt grunted, unable to figure out how to respond, grunted. He didn’t think he’d ever received so many compliments per minute in his life.
“Where were you going?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
The man — Jaskier — replied with the name of a town. Geralt frowned. Taking Jaskier there would add half an hour to Geralt’s drive, but based on the state Jaskier had managed to end up in earlier, Geralt had a feeling he might somehow get himself killed on the way if Geralt simply left him at a bus station. He sighed. He didn’t particularly want murder on his conscience, nor did he want to worry about this strange man any more than he had to.
“I’ll drop you off there,” he said before he could change his mind.
Jaskier’s grin widened. He looked genuinely delighted. “Oh my god, you really are a superhero in disguise, aren’t you?”
“No,” said Geralt, feeling oddly defensive. “Just a decent human being.”
“Tell that to all the people who drove right past me without stopping,” said Jaskier. “I was there for nearly half an hour.”
Geralt didn’t know what to say to that. True to form, he therefore said nothing.
“I should call a tow truck for you,” he said after a moment.
“Oh, yes. That would probably be wise.”
Eventually, Geralt arranged everything so that Jaskier’s car would be repaired. He sighed in relief. The two of them sat in silence for a few moments before Jaskier cleared his throat and spoke up.
“So, what is a handsome fellow like you doing out here?”
Geralt held back a sigh. He hated small talk. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore Jaskier after the day he must have had, though, so he forced himself to answer the question.
“I’m going to pick up my daughter. She’s at a friend’s house.”
“Oh god, you have a daughter? I was just thinking you couldn’t get any more perfect. It seems I was wrong. How old is she?”
Geralt was suddenly grateful that he was driving and had an excuse not to meet Jaskier’s eyes. Such enthusiastic praise made him feel wrong-footed.
“Almost fourteen,” he grunted, ignoring the rest of Jaskier’s words.
“Oh, a teenager! What fun. I hope she’s more well-behaved than I was at that age,” Jaskier said with a laugh.
“She’s much better than I was,” said Geralt. He couldn’t help but sound fond; Ciri was the brightest part of his life, after all. “I’m very lucky to have her.”
“I’m sure she thinks the same,” said Jaskier. “You seem like an excellent father.”
“Hmm. Thank you.” Geralt winced internally at his own awkwardness. Why did one person being nice to him throw him so off-balance?
Jaskier seemed to notice something of Geralt’s discomfort, because the car descended into slightly awkward, silence for the next several minutes. Geralt kept his eyes on the road, trying to recenter himself after this whole exchange.
Once again, Jaskier spoke first.
“You’re doing me a huge favor, you know,” he said earnestly. “Let me repay you for this.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I insist.”
“No.”
“You just took hours out of your day to help some random stranger you found on the side of the road. The least I can do is give you something in return.”
“I don’t want your money. What else could you give me?”
“I’ll think of something.”
Silence fell again. Jaskier leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes with a small sigh. When Geralt glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, he looked so tired and worn all of a sudden that Geralt felt a little ache in his chest. He spoke before he had time to think it through.
“You fought with a friend?”
Jaskier’s eyes opened.
“Yeah,” he said, and Geralt discovered that he did not like hearing sadness in this man’s voice.
“Do you… want to talk about it?” Geralt held back a grimace at his own awkwardness.
Jaskier sighed again. For a moment, Geralt thought he was going to ignore the question, but Jaskier took a deep breath and started to speak.
“I thought we were good,” he murmured. “I thought we were close. I thought we would be friends forever. Then he stopped returning my calls unless I happened to try the exact right time, and before I knew it I hadn’t seen him in person for months. I know he’s busy with his own projects, but he could have at least tried to find time for me. I did it for him.” He huffed in frustration. “So I went to his place to try to talk to him, but he didn’t like me showing up with no warning even though he used to do that to me all the time. He yelled at me. Said some things I don’t know if I can forget.”
Geralt, once again, had no idea what to say. He hoped his silence did not feel insulting. Jaskier didn’t seem to mind.
“I hate this,” Jaskier continued. “I put so much effort into that relationship, and he blew me off like it was nothing. I was still trying to collaborate with him. I have projects that I need to figure out how to do without him now. I tried so hard and it didn’t work. I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did.”
Geralt was very out of his depth. He hummed, hoping it at least sounded sympathetic. Jaskier closed his eyes again.
“I feel so small, sometimes. Like nothing I do will ever matter. The world is big and cruel and I’m so insignificant. All I want to do is make someone happy. Is that too much to ask?” Jaskier’s voice was hardly more than a whisper by the end. Then he seemed to realize what he’d said and he blushed. “But you don’t want to hear a stranger ramble about all his problems. I’ll be quiet now. Better stay out of sight.” He chuckled humorlessly, turning to look out the window.
Something the way Jaskier said those last words snagged Geralt’s memory. Better stay out of sight. Geralt recognized the phrase.
He had heard Ciri hum it while she helped him wash the dishes. He’d heard her shouting it from her bedroom, singing so loud that Geralt could hear perfectly well from across the house. He’d heard it played in the car when Ciri asked to listen to her favorite band, sung by a strong voice full of feeling.
No wonder Jaskier sounded familiar.
“You’re Dandelion,” he said. “The singer.”
Jaskier drew in a surprised breath. “Yes, I am. That’s my stage name.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” said Geralt without thinking, caught off guard by the sudden swell of hope rising in his chest.
Jaskier blinked. “What?”
“I think I know a way you can repay me.”
“That was an ominously sudden change of opinion.”
“Come visit my daughter.”
Whatever Jaskeir had been about to say vanished abruptly. He looked at Geralt with wide eyes.
“She’s… a fan of yours,” said Geralt. “She asked to see you. For her birthday. But I can’t afford to take her to a show, so I told her it wouldn’t work. Didn’t think I’d end up rescuing you off the side of the road.”
“Oh! Really? That’s adorable! Of course I’ll come to visit your daughter! I’m always glad to meet a fan.” Jaskier sounded genuinely delighted.
A small smile spread unbidden across Geralt’s face. “Thank you. She’ll be thrilled.”
“Of course! When do you want to meet? I’ll have to check my schedule and such but I’m sure I can make time for such a sweet request.”
Geralt paused. He could, in theory, suggest bringing Jaskier with him to meet Ciri now, but Jaskier said he had somewhere important to be and Geralt didn’t want to make him any later than he already was. Besides, waiting would give him time to warn Ciri ahead of time. That way, she would have time to plan what she wanted to say.
“How about next week?” Ciri’s birthday was in two weeks. Scheduling their meeting for a week before would give Geralt room to plan if anything went wrong.
“Next week is good!” said Jaskier, and that was that.
They arrived at Jaskier’s destination not long afterward, and Jaskier left after a quick exchange of contact information and a promise to text Geralt soon with scheduling details.
Geralt passed the remaining forty-five minutes of the drive feeling happier than he had in days.
~~~
“Really?” Ciri squealed. The volume and pitch that she managed to achieve was, quite frankly, a show of impressive vocal talent.
“Yeah,” said Geralt, grinning at her. “You get to meet Dandelion.”
“I can’t believe this. You found Dandelion on the side of the road? That’s insane!”
“It was very lucky.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
Ciri was grinning so hard that Geralt wondered if it was making her cheeks hurt. Her joy was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in months.
“I’m glad you’re excited,” he said genuinely. Ciri tackled him in a hug.
After some texting back and forth with Jaskier (it made Ciri incredibly excited to discover that Geralt had Jaskier’s contact information), the time was set for the coming Saturday. All that remained was to wait.
~~~
“Geralt! Hello!” said Jaskier as soon as Geralt opened the door. He looked almost nervous, rubbing his thumb against his fingers as he shifted his weight on Geralt’s doorstep.
“Come in,” said Geralt, stepping aside to let the musician enter the house. “Thank you again for doing this.”
“You’re more than welcome!” said Jaskier, looking around Geralt’s house curiously. Geralt did his best not to feel embarrassed. He and Ciri worked hard this morning to make the place look presentable (“It has to be perfect, Dad!”) but nothing they did could hide the fact that the place was small, the furniture was rather mismatched, and the shelves were cluttered in an attempt to fit all their belongings into what space there was.
“So, where is the lovely person I’ve come to meet?” asked Jaskier, shaking Geralt out of his thoughts.
“In her room,” said Geralt. “I’ll go get her.”
Geralt fetched Ciri, watched fondly as she jumped up and down a little in nervous excitement, and accompanied her back to their living room. Jaskier visibly perked up at the sight of her.
“Hello, darling!” he said, bounding forward and holding a hand out for her to shake. “You must be Cirilla.”
“Ciri,” she said shyly, taking the offered hand and shaking it.
“Ciri,” Jaskier repeated, looking for all the world like he was trying to commit it to memory. “It’s a beautiful name!”
Ciri’s small smile grew wider. “Thank you!”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Geralt with a small smile. He and Ciri had planned this out beforehand — Geralt would wait in the kitchen while they spoke, letting her and Jaskier have privacy while still being able to hear most of the conversation and come back if necessary. “Would anyone like tea or coffee?”
Jaskier declined, but Ciri requested tea, so Geralt went to prepare it.
For a moment, the other room was silent. Then Jaskier spoke up.
“So, I’m told you’ve heard my caterwauling?”
“I love your music. I listen to it all the time.”
“Thank you so much! I’m honored,” said Jaskier. Geralt could hear his grin even without being able to see his face.
“I wanted to thank you, actually,” said Ciri nervously. Geralt listened closer from the other room, prepared to intervene if necessary. Ciri had been wanting to say this to Jaskier ever since she learned she would get to meet him, and if something went wrong there was potential for an emotional disaster.
“Oh? What for?” said Jaskier.
Ciri took a deep breath. “So, um, my grandmother died a little over a year ago. She raised me. It’s been a rough year. Geralt adopted me, and he’s great! I love him, and he loves me, and I’m really glad I get to have him in my life but things have still been hard. I found your music about a month after my grandmother died and it’s helped me a lot. There’s so much life and hope to it, you know? Even when I was having a really bad day, I could listen to it and feel like maybe things might get better. There are so many bad things in the world, but there is also some good, and you helped me remember that. So. That’s why I wanted to meet you. To say thank you for everything.” She shifted awkwardly. “Um. Sorry if that was weird. You don’t know me and that might have been a lot to dump on a stranger.”
“Ciri, darling,” said Jaskier in a voice that sounded choked with emotion. “May I hug you?”
Geralt peeked into the room just in time to see Ciri nod and Jaskier envelop her in a crushing embrace. Ciri made a startled sound before hugging him back. She was hesitant at first, but her confidence grew quickly. Geralt smiled. Ciri gave good hugs.
“That was… possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Jaskiersaid quietly without breaking the embrace. “I’m so glad I could make a difference in your life. I always hope I might, but I’m never sure I manage. It means the world for you to tell me that. Thank you.” He let out a shaky breath. “And I’m truly sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine how you must feel.”
“Thank you,” said Ciri. “It’s… better, now. Time helps. Geralt helps, too.”
“I get the feeling that he’s a wonderful father,” said Jaskier with a smile.
“He really is,” said Ciri, her voice filled with what sounded like pride. Geralt was suddenly glad that no one could see him, because he was sure that whatever expression he was making was unbearably sappy.
Jaskier and Ciri moved on to talking about less serious matters, making jokes and small talk and discussing Jaskier’s music. Geralt delivered tea to Ciri and settled in the kitchen with a book, only half-listening to them now that the most emotionally difficult moments had passed.
After an hour, Jaskier reluctantly informed them that he had to leave. Ciri was disappointed, of course, but handled it gracefully. Geralt watched her say her goodbyes and walked Jaskier to the door.
“You must be proud to have such a wonderful daughter,” Jaskier said to Geralt as he stepped outside, turning back to smile at him.
Geralt smiled. “I am. Always.”
“Good. It was wonderful to meet her,” said Jaskier. “Would you tell her that? I said so earlier, but I’m not sure if she believed me.”
“I will,” said Geralt. He wondered if Jaskier knew that he was digging further into Geralt’s heart with every kindness he showed Ciri. “Thank you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you,” said Jaskier with a smile. “I had an excellent time.”
“I’m glad,” said Geralt. They stood in companionable silence for a moment.
“I should probably get going before someone starts calling me,” said Jaskier with a sigh. “Thank you again for inviting me over.”
“Thank you for coming,” Geralt said. “Ciri and I appreciate it.”
Jaskier grinned. “You’re very welcome, dear heart.”
Then, with a wave and a shouted farewell, he was gone.
~~~
Geralt thought that was the last he would see of Jaskier.
For the next several weeks, the only contact he had with Jaskier was through Ciri playing his music. Geralt found himself oddly disappointed by the idea of not seeing Jaskier again, but told himself to stop being ridiculous. The fact that he was funny and kind and genuinely good with Ciri didn’t necessarily mean they could have been friends, even if the up-and-coming pop star had decided to keep in touch with a single father of limited means and even more limited social skills.
His attempts at putting Jaskier out of his mind were not as successful as he would have liked. He hoped that if he ignored this, it would go away eventually.
Then, over a month later, Geralt woke up to a text from a very familiar number.
Jaskier:hi geralt! so i know this is kind of out of nowhere, but i wrote a thing that may or may not be inspired by you and ciri and i was wondering if the two of you could listen to it and tell me if you’re all right with me showing it to anyone else and maybe putting it out there for the public? Jaskier:it’s totally fine if not, of course. i can absolutely keep it between the three of us indefinitely. Jaskier:believe it or not, i am actually capable of shutting up about some things Jaskier:though i’m not giving you very good evidence of that with all this rambling Jaskier:i’m just gonna send the files now
The next two messages were audio files. Geralt fumbled for his earbuds and started the first track.
Thirty seconds into the song, Geralt already liked it. It was in Jaskier’s normal pop-adjacent style, upbeat and energetic, but the lyrics were more poetic than was usual. It was about unexpected kindness, he thought, and he could easily see the connection to their acquaintance despite the lack of direct reference. The idea of having played a part in inspiring someone to write a song — Ciri’s favorite musician, no less — made something startlingly warm blossom in his chest.
He paused the music, stood, and went to find Ciri. She would certainly want to hear this.
Many delighted exclamations later, Geralt and Ciri sat side by side in front of the speaker Geralt had plugged into his phone. Geralt went back to the beginning of the first song and let it play, this time watching the expression on Ciri’s face as she listened. Her glee was contagious, and Geralt found himself enjoying the song even more than the first time. The song continued in a similar vein to what Geralt had already heard, complete with a cheery chorus that was certainly going to get stuck in Geralt’s head.
“Oh my god,” Ciri squealed when the song was done. “He really wrote a song about you. Dandelion wrote a song about you!”
“It’s not about me,” Geralt protested. “It’s just indirectly inspired by something I did.”
Ciri ignored him. “Can we listen to the next one?”
Geralt wordlessly pulled up the next file and pressed play, smiling at the excited noise Ciri made.
Immediately, Geralt could tell this one was different. It started with strumming on a lone guitar, and Jaskier’s voice was tender and full of emotion when he started to sing. The lyrics, as far as Geralt could make out, told of grief. It was unclear who or what the singer had lost, but the sadness in Jaskier’s voice made whatever it was feel all too real. Ciri’s eyes widened in shock, and Geralt had a feeling that his own expression was similar. This was definitely not what he had expected.
The chorus of the song started, and suddenly Geralt could think of nothing but the music. Other instruments joined the guitar as the tone of the song shifted. Jaskier began to sing of hope.
He sang of starlight shining through clouds on dark nights, of flowers growing through cracks in concrete, of song staving off the silence of hopeless midnight. Jaskier’s voice was filled with emotion, with light and dark and fear and hope.
By the time the song was over, Ciri’s cheeks were stained with tears
“That was beautiful,” she whispered. Geralt couldn’t help but agree.
“He wrote a song for you,” Geralt said in disbelief. “After your conversation when he came over, he wrote a song for you.”
“Fuck,” said Ciri emphatically. Geralt couldn’t find it in himself to chastise her for the language.
Geralt was grateful that this had happened on a Saturday. He and Ciri might need all day to process.
~~~
Geralt did not respond to Jaskier until much later that day, after he and Ciri had time to discuss their thoughts on Jaskier’s question. It wasn’t until after dinner that night that Geralt finally felt ready. He settled in on the sofa with Ciri sitting next to him, gathered his courage, and sent a response before he had time to overthink it.
Geralt:They’re beautiful. Geralt:You made Ciri cry, but she says it was in a good way. Geralt:She also says I shouldn’t have said that, because now you might worry about having made her cry. Geralt:She says not to worry. Geralt:She says thank you. She loved them. Geralt:I liked them too. Thank you. Geralt:You can do what you want with them, as long as there’s no personal information shared about Ciri or me.
Jaskier responded within five minutes of Geralt’s last message.
Jaskier:i’d apologize for having made your daughter cry, but i get the feeling she wouldn’t appreciate that Jaskier:i hope she’s all right, though?
Geralt:She will be. It was just more emotional than we expected.
Jaskier:ah. mission accomplished, maybe?
Geralt:Yes.
Jaskier:thank you for your permission!! I’ll keep you up to date on what’s going on, of course. and yes, definitely no personal information will be shared! Jaskier:by the way, have i thanked you yet? i was having a terrible week plus songwriters’ block and you and ciri were absolute lifesavers. Jaskier:you made me remember why I started doing this in the first place.
Geralt:I’m glad. You made our week better, too. Thank you.
Jaskier:you’re very welcome!
Thinking the conversation over, Ciri grinned up at Geralt.
“That went well!” she said.
“Yes. Do you think you can get ready for bed now?” asked Geralt.
Ciri sighed. “Fine.”
She stood and left the room, and so, fortunately for Geralt, missed the ridiculous expression on his face when he glanced at his phone to see another message waiting for him from Jaskier.
Jaskier:oh, and before i chicken out, i have something i want to ask you
Geralt was undeniably curious.
Geralt:What is it?
Jaskier:do you want to meet for dinner sometime?
Geralt drew in a surprised breath. That was unexpected.
Geralt:To talk about the songs?
Jaskier:yeah
The three dots that indicated whether Jaskier was typing appeared, disappeared, then reappeared again. Geralt was about to stop waiting and come up with his own response when, finally, another message appeared.
Jaskier:and maybe more, if you want?
Geralt’s heart stuttered a little. He sent back a reply before he could second-guess himself, nerves afire.
Geralt:Like what?
Jaskier:whatever you want Jaskier:i’d like to get to know you better if that’s all right Jaskier:i know we haven’t talked for very long but i really like you Jaskier:and ciri. she’s an absolute darling, obviously Jaskier:and so are you Jaskier:obviously Jaskier:feel free to tell me to shut up. i ramble a lot.
Geralt looked at his phone with wide eyes. Was Jaskier — his daughter’s favorite musician, and possibly the kindest and happiest man of his recent acquaintance — really interested in talking to him again? It seemed too good to be true.
Geralt:I don’t mind.
Jaskier:oh, good. Jaskier:the rambling, or the dinner?
Geralt knew he would feel more confident on his home turf.
Geralt:You haven’t met my dog yet.
Jaskier:aslkdjfalsdfj YOU HAVE A DOG?? Jaskier:I MUST SEE THIS Jaskier:WHY DIDN’T I KNOW ABOUT THIS
Geralt:My brother was taking her for a walk last time you were over. We didn’t want her to get in the way.
Jaskier:YOU HAVE A BROTHER?!? Jaskier:that does it. i most certainly must visit and meet your dog. Jaskier:the brother is optional but embarrassing stories are more than welcome Jaskier:sound good?
Geralt chuckled quietly at his phone screen, somehow unable to stop smiling.
Geralt:Sounds good.
They settled on a time and date. Geralt felt warm. Their acquaintance was no longer so temporary — they were, perhaps, friends. Perhaps, if they were lucky, they could become even more.
The thought made Geralt frown a little. What did Jaskier want from this? Would it be worth asking for clarification? It would likely be best to clear up any potential misunderstandings now things went very far.
Geralt hummed nervously to himself before gathering his courage and sending his next question.
Geralt:By the way, is this a date?
For a moment, there was no response. The dots indicating that Jaskier was typing appeared and stayed there for a very, very long moment.
Jaskier:It can be whatever you want it to be.
Geralt stared at the message for a moment. Jaskier was using proper punctuation and capitalization, for once. It seemed he was serious.
Geralt:First dates don’t usually involve someone’s daughter
Jaskier:eh, “usually” is boring anyway Jaskier:Unless her presence would make you or her uncomfortable, of course
Geralt thought for a few moments, then made up his mind.
Geralt:I think it’s fine. She’ll be more than happy to see you again.
Jaskier:so… it’s a date?
Geralt:Yes.
Jaskier:excellent!! see you then! <3
Geralt stared at the little heart on the screen for a moment with a silly little smile on his face. He was going to see Jaskier again. Jaskier wanted to see him again.
Geralt found himself humming as he went to find Ciri and tell her the good news. After a few moments, he realized that he was humming one of Jaskier’s new songs. His smile widened.
Perhaps that Ciri would not be the only one getting a gift next week.
okay we can all agree that andrew likes to read, BUT it’s also a fact that he dog ears pages, ruins spines by leaving books lying open, shoves them in bags even if the pages get crumpled, and stains the books by eating messy foods while reading
