#Protective Jaskier

[headcanonthings]

Jaskier: It actually pisses me off so much when the Witchers are like "ohhh but if I hurt or kill the bastards who make my life a living hell, I'm just as bad as they are!" Like grow up and castrate him. What are you, chicken?

Jaskier: "But I'm too good to kill humans! :("

Jaskier: I'm not. Give me the sword.

[thequeeninyellowlace]

Chapter 1

by TheQueenInYellowLace (Queenjulie)

(1/6 chapters, complete, all posted to Ao3)

Everyone assumes the Wolves mark their territory. They’re wolves, after all. And it’s true, they do, around Kaer Morhen. They don’t do it much out on the Path. A random campsite isn’t home, after all, isn’t theirs, and few animals are stupid enough to approach a Witcher even if he’s sleeping. So they don’t bother, out on the Path, even if sleeping unprotected is always a little uncomfortable and leaves them poorly rested.

But Jaskier? He marks his territory. Geralt rouses one night early in their acquaintance as the bard slides out of his bedroll, clearly trying to be quiet. He is rather baffled to watch the pretty bard pissing, which he expected, but doing it while walking in a circle around their campsite, watering every few trees as he moves around Geralt and the fire. Geralt pretends to be asleep when the odd human returns to bed. Jaskier drifts back to sleep, smelling satisfied, and Geralt stares at him in dark.

***

It keeps happening. Jaskier waits for Geralt to be asleep, then sneaks out of bed and waters the trees around their camp, clearly sure that Geralt has no idea he is doing it. It makes Geralt feel odd and oddly warm, the young man so carefully marking their little home for the night around a dozen different campfires across the Continent. He mentions it to the other Wolves, one winter. They had asked him if Jaskier was still trailing along behind Geralt. Geralt had nodded silently as he rhythmically churned the goats’ milk into butter. Then he paused. “He stuck close last year. More than before. And he’s getting…stranger.” Eskel looked up at him curiously as Lambert snorted. “He marks like we do, but out there,” he says, jerking his head out to the land outside Kaer Morhen.

“He marks?” Eskel asked. “Like he pees?”

“Yep.”

“Humans don’t do that,” Lambert snipes.

Geralt glared down at the butter as if it could explain Jaskier to him.

“One does.”

[lucigoo]

I burn with a smile on my face, for you are safe

#262 - Run Far and Fast, @flashfictionfridayofficial

Pairing -Gen, Jaskier & Cirilla

Warnings - Implied self sacrifice, burning the enemy to death

Words - 992

Summary -Jaksier found Cirilla first and he will protect her, no matter the cost

A03 link is here

Jaskier growled with frustration as he took one last look at Cirilla’s sleeping form.

They had been looking for Geralt together. After snatching her from the black armoured man, Jaskier had whisked Cirilla away and taken her to the paths that Geralt usually favoured, all whilst he took them closer and closer to Kher Morhen’s hidden path.

He bent down and gently stroked a hand over the sleeping girl’s hair. If he hadn’t known better, he could imagine she was really Geralt’s child. One from his loins, not just because Geralt appeared to be Destiny’s whipping boy.

Jaskier left Cirilla’s side for a moment, knowing they still had a little bit of time before Nilfguard caught up to them. Enough for him to rotate the letter he had just retrieved from his pack in his hands. He was unsure if he should even give it to her to hand over, but Jaskier decided Geralt deserved to know. Even if he was still angry at the idiotic oaf at the moment.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his body out, trying to get rid of at least a small amount of painful tension coursing through his body. It didn’t work, but he felt better for trying.

He pulled their one horse, Pegasus, behind him as he crouched over Cirilla again.

She woke up almost instantly to Jaskier shaking her. Hand on her sword almost instantaneously. Geralt would be proud, Jaskier thought, though his heart broke for the lost little princess before him.

“Jaskier?” she whispered when she saw the look on Jaskier’s face.

Jaskier said nothing. He just grabbed her hand and pulled her to Pegasus, making her get on him.

Cirilla had a dozen protests on her lips, but one look at the sadness on Jaskier’s face was enough to stop her from asking.

“You have to be brave, my darling. You have to ride towards Poloris. It’s getting to the time any of the witchers will return to Kher Morhen. Find one, any of them with a wolf medallion or a griffon. They will get you to Geralt and protect you until he finds you, love,” he said as he pulled his lute off the horse and strapped it on his back before adjusting the saddle for Ciri to ride solo.

“Jaskier, you're coming with me, right? Right?” she asked, panicked.

“I can’t. You have to go and I have to stop our followers from getting to you,” he replied.

Cirilla ignored the tears that were falling down her face. She had lost everyone, and she didn’t know Geralt. She knew and loved Jaskier and he was going to leave her, too. She wasn’t sure if she would survive another loss.

Jaskier understood exactly what her face said as he pulled her down and rested his forehead against hers. “I will stop them, Cirilla. I am more than just a bard, my dear. I am powerful enough in my own right. You will run. You will run far and you will run fast. And when you are done running. When you are safe in Geralt’s arms, you will do something else for me,” he told her with an authority she dared not defy.

“What?” she whispered in reply.

“First, you will give him this. You will tell him I forgive him. That I love him and I am glad I shared more of my life with him then I did without the idiot,” he said as he handed the girl a letter for Geralt, a letter that bared his soul and almost 20 years of longing and love for his fool of a witcher.

“And then?” Cirilla whispered into the quiet night air.

“Then you will live, Cirilla. You will live wild and free. You will live and love and remember how much I love you, little lion cub. And when Destiny comes to fuck you over again, you spit in her eye and tell her you are free. You are your own woman who will make her own way and if Destiny has a problem with it, she can take it up with me,” he said, smiling softly at Cirilla’s punched out laugh.

“But she won’t find you. You will be gone,” Cirilla sobbed out.

“Oh, my sweet. I will never be gone because I will always love you. Just because I can’t see you doesn’t mean I am not with you. Always,” Jaskier said as he kissed her cheek and pushed her to sit back upright on the horse.

Both Cirilla and Jaskier’s heads turned when they heard the crashing of a large force of men running through the forest.

“Go Cirilla,” Jaskier yelled as he slapped the horse’s rear. Pegasus reared up and took off as fast as he was able.

Cirilla turned around and stared at Jaskier before she became too far away to see.

Her last sight of Jaskier, of the White Wolf’s Bard, was of him standing surrounded by Nilfguardian soldiers as he screamed “burn bastards burn” and strummed his lute faster than humanly possible.

Cirilla watched as the ground was set on fire, and smoke filled her vision. She watched as the flames spread and blocked the path between her and the enemy. She watched as Jaskier’s laughter rang out into the night, mixed with the screams of burning men.

She leant down over Pegasus’s head, and they rode. She would not let Jaskier’s sacrifice be in vain. He loved her, and that love was nestled deep within her.

She would find Geralt, she would learn to fight and use her powers and she would make the Continent a better place, the same way as Jaskier had always tried to do. She would be his living legacy and she would never let his love, or his light, be snuffed from this world.

That was a promise she made to herself and to a once fresh faced teenager who had dared to love a Witcher.

[geraskierficrecs]

Mafia AU Update!

Read the latest chapter in Aiden’s POV here!

Teaser:

“You must be the new bartender Lambert hired,” a low voice murmured a few feet away.

It was only habit that kept Aiden from flinching at the unexpected arrival. There weren’t many people who could sneak up Aiden without him noticing. He turned to watch the scarred wolf as he settled onto a stool warily.

There were only a handful of wolves that did not carry the title of alpha with this much power. Everyone knew to fear and respect the Kaer pack’s consigliere. Great might be the head and heart of his pack, but Eskel remained the claw tipped fingers ripping through their enemies.  Unlike Geralt’s intensity, Eskel kept his power subtle, almost invisible until the moment when he used it like a blade. Aiden could appreciate the skill even if he hoped to avoid becoming a target.

“I am,” Aiden said in an even voice. “Would you like a drink?”

“An old fashioned, please.”

Aiden nodded and busied himself with gathering the supplies he needed. The weight of Eskel’s focus made him avoid the small Rolodex of recipes tucked away behind the counter in favor of trying to remember what an old fashioned looked like from the few times he’d someone else order one. He reached for an orange and carefully muddled a sugar cube at the bottom of the glass. Bitters next, he thought, and poured some over a larger ice cube.

His memory failed him as he reached toward a bottle on the shelf and heard Eskel’s voice call out, “You need bourbon.”

Swallowing, Aiden moved his hand over to the bourbon and quickly finished off the drink as requested. Eskel’s dark eyes picked up the glass with a thoughtful look, swirling the liquid inside. “How long are you planning to stay in Blaviken?”

Aiden shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Our pack always has a place for wolves that prove loyal,” Eskel said, eyes fixed on Aiden’s face like he was peeling away each layer of his expression. “Lambert believes you would be a useful addition. You and your brother.”

“He told you that?” He can’t help but look out into the crowd towards familiar broad shoulders and grumpy frown.

“Lambert wouldn’t have offered the job to someone he didn’t see potential in. He has a bit of a soft spot for people who need shelter.” Eskel took a drink and kept his voice perfectly even. “Some assume that his kindness is a weakness.”

There was a threat in the inhuman glint in the consigliere’s eyes. Unlike Geralt and Lambert, Eskel allowed his wolf to linger at the forefront of his features, working in unison like a well oiled machine.  Aiden was reminded of the rumors of bodies staked out in enemy pack lands and the way the crowd avoided getting too close to Eskel as he moved around him. This was a predator created to hunt other predators.

Aiden had no doubt Eske would burn the world to ash to protect his brothers and he recognized the same monster lurking in his own chest. So he offered Eske a rare bit of truth.

“I am not here to harm the Kaer pack.”

[devilpetvolpe]

The scars I carried for you

“What’s this?” the baritone voice startled the witcherling, he hadn’t heard the other witcher coming up behind him. He’d thought himself alone, the last of them to be up that night and allowed himself to relax. His neckline fell loose and unbuttoned. Were he using his usual glamor then he would have thought nothing of it but since Vesemir refused him use of it, he felt an extra level of bare.   

He tried to tidy himself up, righting the collar when he heard the older approach. A gentle hand caught him by the neck though and stopped him. Eskel eased the fabric down farther, pulling it to one side to locate what he had seen. A thick hand bracketed where an old scar rests. The younger shivered when callouses caught the skin as Eskel brushed his thumb over it. 

Now was not the first time he’d wished for his glamor. He knew it was too soon to be fully without it. While he enjoys attention he dislikes feeling too seen, especially in this moment. ”What’s this?” Eskel repeated, his voice low in volume and timber as he asked nearly in Jaskier’s ear. Another gentle touch caused a shiver down his spine.    

“It’s,” an awful twisted stab wound, “uh, he” his throat constricted and he swallowed to alleviate it, “he liked the way it felt.” Jaskier explained carefully as if that conveyed all one would need to understand. 

It did not, “What? The blade in his hand?” 

Jaskier wet his lips. Shame weighed his gaze causing him to drop his head down further. “How it felt,” he repeated, emphasizing the word deliberately and carefully, “around him.” He allowed himself to get caught up in the memory for a moment. Mind tunneling in on one of many horrific memories. 

He’d stabbed him from behind, blade having pierce threw the meat scraping the bone of his clavicle on its way out. All orifices clenched in his pain and again when he twisted it. The other side had a scar too, small in the dip under the bone. Small enough to pass as a mole or freckle.

Eskel sucked in a breath between clenched teeth at the implications. He pulled the shirt further away, stretching it in a way that if Jaskier were fully present would start a fit. He examined the area fully, aside from the twist of the blade there were little white marks making up an oval in the flesh. Teeth marks, a bite mark deep enough to draw blood, deep enough to scar. “Jul-” but he was cut off.

“I have the witcher prerogative,” his voice was haunting in its hollow. Spoken from a far off memory, “the build but not the training.” Eskel waited with breath held as the younger continued in that halting format. “It’s much harder to nullify the situation when it’s with men. Women are much simpler creatures.” Jaskier halfway came back to himself when Eskel squeezed his shoulder. “ but no less awful.” the last sentiment murmured morose and with more conviction.

There were many a bedfellow whom shown interest in Geralt for the novelty of it and then there were those who were interested in the lack of consequence. So many who’ve been screened by the bard as the interested party ask for a good word. He had a knack for it at his point. Could tell the one from the other. And if he thought they would give up if he were to turn them away then he never would have allowed himself to play the distraction. 

Convince them that they wanted him rather than the Wolf. A quick twist of his ring and a flash of gold soaked eyes. Always with promises of testing his stamina, and other thresholds. Women clawing nails into his skin while they ride him, men who stab and cut or broken bones. He’d been told he thrashes beautifully the more intense the pain. And in the morning it would all vanish under a glamor, no need for concern and his precious White Wolf was safe and none the wiser.

The weight of Eskel’s forehead rested between his shoulder blades, grounding him in the here and now. His collar was righted and an arm wrapped around him keeping him close. “Thank you,” it was absurd being thanked for his suffering, “Thank you for taking care of him.” The other’s hand clenched in the cloth over his chest. He couldn’t help but feel like it was one of the only things keeping him together in this exact moment.

In an almost detached movement he reached up to wipe the tears from his own eyes. “It’s what you do for love,” for twenty years, he took the hurt intended for his love. Still hopeful and blissfully unaware that he had not a chance. For his hopeful position was already taken by the witcher that clung to him now.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Okay so after the mountain breakup and makeup, jaskier has a new horse. He super excited to introduce Geralt “horse girl” Riviera to his sweetheart of a horse, Pegasus. He talk about how well mannered and precious his horse is; and how he just had to buy him off of his old owners who didn’t treat him right — “ I mean they didn’t even give him apples, Geralt, who does that?? —

Geralt is expecting a dainty normal horse, maybe with ribbons in his hair, like his owner. But they get to the stables and jaskier skips over to this behemoth of a war horse. (I’m thinking like a shire horse type breed).

Jaskier is just absolutely besotted with the “sweetheart” and Geralt is petrified. This horse is bigger than roach. It’s glaring at Geralt with the rage of hellfire. Geralt is like 57% sure it’s a hell horse.

It’s also super protective of jaskier and it hates Geralt. Pegasus is always moving in between the two and when Jaskier starts giving Geralt attention Pegasus whines and Jaskier will go back to him.

Geralt is not jealous no matter what anyone says. He tries to tell Jaskier about how his demon horse keeps glaring at him and bumping him off the road. But everytime he tries to point it out Pegasus has the most innocent look on his face.

It would be so funny to see a horse and a Witcher try and fight for Jaskier attention

[spielzeugkaiser]

Ciri feels a bit like she's been in the way, once Geralt and Milek become closer - like she held him back somehow.

The thing I think is crucial about this - things went wrong and Geralt missed out on seeing Milek growing up - but Geralt is a dad. The parallels are there.

[tielmamon]

"The White wolf himself! It's an honor to finally meet the man Jaskier never shuts up about." Radovid gracefully presents his hand for the witcher to kiss. Geralt does not. Instead, he stares at the prince with an eerily blank expression and takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. Until Radovid feels the rough, painfully jagged texture of the cave wall against his back. He looks at the witcher, now looming before him in the shadows. Bright yellow eyes- those of a predator pierces through the darkness like a knife and stab through his chest like a cold chill.

"I'm sure you are well aware of my...fondness for Jaskier. We've travelled together for almost 25 years now. He is, in his own ridiculous words my very best friend in the whole wide world."

Radovid chuckles, which seems to be the wrong response because Geralt's eye twitches and the hand near Radovid's side curls into a fist so tight he hears the leather of the man's glove whine.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Now, with that I must lay down a few things for you to remember, your highness. Lest you overstep and find yourself upsetting my bard." Radovid swallows, blood running ice cold.

"If I ever catch wind of you mistreating, manipulating, or abusing Jaskier in anyway, a few things will happen to you."

"First, I will find you, wherever you are on this continent and I will kill you. It will be a very sudden, painful and very violently death. A coach suddenly pushed off a cliff, an unexpected kikimora loose in the castle, poison in your morning tea that feels like acid down your throat. I don't know, haven't really decided yet."

"Then after that, I will watch as your spirit becomes vengeful and restless, transforming into a wraith- a monster born out of gruesome, untimely deaths. Then I kill you again, for the second time. This time not by my blade, but by my fire. I will burn you, and watch as your spirit, your very soul wails in agony, turning to ash at the sight of your charred, desecrated bones." Geralt leans in close, stopping just shy of the pale prince's hear and whispers.

"And that's not even mentioning what unspeakable horrors my daughter and her mother are sure to do to you beforehand." Radovid shakes under the cold intensity of Geralt's gaze. They both hear the bard in question singing just an earshot away from where they stood. Radovid flinches so hard that his back is scratched by a particularly sharp rock. Geralt, on the other hand mearly turns to the sound, smiling softly for a moment before facing the prince once again.

"Have I made myself clear, your highness?" His smile never leaving his face, Geralt bares his teeth to show the sharp canines that look more lion than wolf.

"C-Crystal." Radovid stutters.

"Geralt? Have you seen- Oh! There you are, dear."

"Hmmm" In a blink of an eye, the witcher is a considerable distance away from the terrified prince. Already walking toward the bard, Geralt claps a hand on his shoulder as he passes him to reach Roach. Radovid watches Jaskier lean against the friendly touch, beaming.

"How are my two favorite men in the world? Getting along well, I hope?"

"Oh, we get along just fine. Don't we, your highness?" He looks at him now with casual disinterest, but there was a glint in the man's eye. It sends a shiver up the prince's spine and he all too suddenly remembers the moniker the man used to have before Jaskier came along.

"Absolutely. "

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

everyone's rightfully talking about jaskier's "get rid of him" and Trauma-Rooted Finger Fidgeting about rience but what about "I'll come find you when rience is dead" "or he'll find me once you are" like. jaskier is absolutely fucking terrified of rience coming for him again and I'm in fucking shambles

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 116

Geralt wakes up one stormy night to the scent of his bard's distress. His eyes snap open, and he instinctively reaches for a dagger, but is stopped when he can't move his arms. He glances to the side and sure enough, his bard is clinging to him. Jaskier has his eyes scrunched close, and his mouth is in a pouty frown. Geralt sighs a bit, and curls his free arm over and around Jaskier, cuddling him closer. Perhaps it was a bad dream. Geralt sniffs the air and nods to himself. "It'll rain soon." Jaskier whips his head over to him with horror. "RAIN!? RAIN!? I just did my hair, and this is one of my best doublets, and-" "We'll be inside by then." "Oh thank gods, Geralt." Geralt and Jaskier are traveling a very windy day, clouds begin crowding above them, darkening the sky. Jaskier has been on edge since he woke up to the harsh winds, but Geralt had just assumed he was cold and worried for his hair. But then lightning flashes in the distance, and Jaskier honest-to-gods yelps in fright. That's when Geralt finally figures it out. His bard is afraid of storms.

[jaskier-more-like-saskier]

can we talk about Geralt breaking Riences hands. Was it because he burned Jaskiers hand probably not but i live in my delusions and think yes.

[patroclusdefencesquad]

yennskier forehead smooch my beloved

[thelostgirl21]

I love watching this scene frame by frame, because you can see the exact moment his brain goes from innocent, unsuspecting, inquisitive puppy...

...to that tiny second of hesitation and realization...

...before it fully switches to really upset and betrayed!

[yeraskier]

thinking about how when geralt finally kills rience he won't just be protecting ciri, he'll also be avenging jaskier

[geraskierficrecs]

An Offer You Can’t Refuse Update!

With AO3 finally working, I was able to get the new chapter uploaded finally.  You can read it here.

Teaser:

“Now, now,” Eskel murmured as he walked through the wolves without seeming to be bothered by the gun pointed at him, “you came very close to doing something very stupid.  Let’s not continue that trend.”

“Y-you won’t get away with this,” the man blustered.  “Emhyr–”

“Your alpha is a very long way from here.  Do you really think he’ll arrive in time to save you?”

The man gulped, but slowly shook his head.

Eskel crouched down so he was eye level with the cowering Nilfgaardian.  “My friend here is not known for his patience-” Sensing the cue, Aiden growled viciously, “-so I would recommend on keeping your answers concise.  Where is the mage?”

“I–I don’t–”

“Aiden.”  At the sound of his name, Aiden surged forward to yank the gun out of the man’s tremulous grip and sling it out of his reach.  He prowled forward, enjoying the fear he could smell in the man’s scent.  There was a certain grace to Eskel’s brand of showmanship.  “Last chance: where is the mage?” Eskel repeated.

“I don’t know!” the man repeated, terrified eyes fixed on the approaching wolf.  “Emhyr doesn’t tell any of us!  He keeps her out of sight.”

Eskel’s sigh was all the confirmation Aiden needed.  The man was dead before his body hit the ground.

[renegadesstuff]

PROTECT JASKIER AT ALL COSTS 🥺😭❤️‍🩹