#fairy jaskier

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 103

Geralt keeps waking up miraculously healed from contracts. Witcher healing is good, yes, but not that good. And it doesn't work if he goes into towns. He's undoubtedly weary of the phenomenon, but he can't exactly do anything about it at the moment. One night, after a hunt was significantly easier than expected, he's hopped up on too many potions, and the world has blurred and everything is TOO MUCH. Except for the soft yellow light in the distance, moving closer to him. As it gets closer, so too do the soft twinkling sounds. The ball of light hums and sings to him, even as he can barely focus on it's presence. He feels warmth in his wretched shaking hands and spares a second to glance at them, watching in shaken awe as a wound heals before his eyes. Ever since the night where he saw the glowing ball, he begins looking for signs of someone or something following him. He's healed and sung to, but what could the creature actually want from him? Why bother with it all? So one night, when he's bandaged up a scratch wound on thigh, he pretends to sleep. He waits, waits, waits, until finally he hears the twinkling chimes. He springs up and forward, snatching it out of the air, and looking at what he's caught, ready to demand answers, only to see a very startled little winged man staring at him. A fairy? "Why do you heal me?" "Because I like you, obviously!" "You don't know me." "Oh, but I do! I've been watching you for a few months now!" "....Hmm." "You're my muse! I've written songs about your adventures, would you like to hear?!"

[nullio]

Jaskier confusing the fuck out of Geralt with standard childhood fairytale's that Geralt himself didn't grow up with, like

Jaskier: how was the hunt Geralt, all in one piece I hope?

Geralt: hmm, for the most part. Damn thing knocked my tooth out *shows tooth*

Jaskier, without looking up: put it under your pillow

Geralt: ... what?

Jask: put it under your pillow?

Geralt: ...

Jaskier: for the tooth fairy, Geralt. Get a few orens for it?

Geralt: the fucking what

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 60

For completing an especially hard contract, Geralt is given a present from the fae. "Your perfect love", they call it. When Jaskier is shoved toward him, Geralt wishes he could say he was surprised. Geralt quickly gains his shock back, however, when upon his bard speaking, he finds he has been completely drained of his personality. Jaskier speaks as concisely and directly as possible, with no embellishment or flowering of his words - Hell, he doesn't even speak with emotion or tone in his voice. Geralt demands to know what they've done to Jaskier, only for the fae to teleport them out. Geralt goes from mage to mage, sorcerer to sorcerer, healer to healer, priest to priest, hoping desperately that someone, anyone, can revert Jaskier back to himself. Jaskier no longer sings. He barely talks. He doesn't wander off, or dance in place, or reach out to Geralt. His eyes have even dulled in color, now a blank gray, always looking hazy and glossed over. Nobody can heal Jaskier. Or so it seeems! I love happy endings SO two options (or any you come up with but you know what I mean) Option 1: Geralt marches back to the Fae's woods and demands they speak to him, as they've disrespected him by not giving him his prize for completing their contract those months ago. When they bring him in, affronted at the idea of what he is implying, they are shocked when he berates them for at least a full hour over how much he loves the traits his bard once had that they had thought he found annoying. "So you never gave me my perfect love." He finishes. They all converse for a moment, before nodding. "It seems we underestimated you, Witcher. We apologize for the misconception." And thank the gods, Jaskier slumps in place and looks to Geralt with bright blue eyes. "Geralt? Wh- What's going on?" Only to then be kicked out of the fae realm again. Oh well. At least Jaskier was cured. Option 2: TRUE LOVE'S KISS BABBYYYYYYYYYY

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 122

In place of August Tenth, Promptapalooza 3/ Geralt and Jaskier are traveling through faewood. They can tell it's faewood because the trees glittered and sang about how much closer the two would be if they just told the truth. The woods went back to normal afterward but it was kind of a giveaway. Jaskier starts playing some mindless melodies on his lute as they walk, only for Geralt to suddenly snarl a bit and turn to look at him. "Can you stop playing, Jaskier? I can't hear my self loathing thoughts when you play." They both stare in shock at each other. "That's not what I meant to say." Geralt states, awkwardly. "Do you often think bad of yourself?..." "All the time." "Me too." Geralt frowns. Geralt is a monster. He's a witcher. He's killed so many. Jaskier is perfect. Jaskier is sweet and kind and lovely. What can he hate about himself? "Geralt, please don't ask-" "What do you think about?" They say at the same time. "You'll leave me. You hate me. You'll find me annoying. You'll find me too loud. You'll never love me as I love you. I love you, Geralt. So much. I desire nothing but your arms around me at night, a kiss between us, you telling me I'm worth something to y-" Jaskier slaps his hands over his mouth and glances away. The trees giggle, and Geralt almost wants to launch a sword into the canopies just to fix the horrified expression on his bard's face.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt #2

There is not NEARLY enough Rapunzel AU fanfics. I'm thinking of mighty witcher Geralt coming across a lone, tall, moss, ivy, and lavender covered tower out in the woods, and being surprised to find a young man imprisoned there. I love the idea that instead of paintings like Disney's Rapunzel used to fill up her time and tower, that instead he sings and makes songs, so there's like.. Lyrics and sheet music scribbled onto the walls.

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Geralt is tracking down an evil infamous mage, of whom turns out to be the captor of this gorgeous musician he found

• Jaskier has blonde hair until it's cut like in Tangled, to call back to his Dandelion roots (hah.. Roots... Like hair... and dandelions..) • We could go the Disney's Tangled route and have there be a lost Prince Julian that Jaskier just so happens to resemble (and secretly is)

• Perhaps Jaskier is physically bound there by magic or chains, Or perhaps he's there out of nothing more than guilt, shame, and/or fear toward the person keeping him there • Perhaps Jaskier is a painter in this universe, and above all, wants to see real buttercups, dandelions, etc, out in the wild, for they don't grow near his tower, and the best he can get is his own paintings of their descriptions in books.

• Maybe if we feel more adventurous, Jaskier could be part harpy, kept in a mage's tower in a birdcage, kept for his magical hair activated by his magical singing (Ooh, this gives me more bird jaskier ideas.. You might see those soon)

• Or perhaps, after Blaviken, a witcher is sealed away in a tower, only for some dumbass (affectionate) struggling bard to stroll across and think it a perfect shelter from the oncoming rain.

[churchofpossum]

A blurry pic of a sketchbook page I was playing around with. The wings are from stationery paper so I did not draw them myself. But I cut them out and glued them on XD Sorry for the blurry pic but my phone camera was not behaving and I always see how blurry it is when I put it on my desktop, on my phone it looks fine Q_Q

(In the original Jaskier has a smol pp showing in the one with the flower, but I don't know how this site feels about non sexual pp so I shopped it away. Rip to the pp)

[thedemonofcat]

Geralt finds himself embarking on an intriguing contract, unlike any he has encountered before. Mysterious deaths are occurring, and the victims meet their end in a manner reminiscent of fairy tales, but with a twisted twist—the stories don't conclude with the customary "happily ever after." Determined to put an end to the killings, Geralt stumbles upon a revelation: the only way to stop the murders is to ensure that the stories reach their proper resolution. Realizing the complexity of the task at hand, Geralt decides to seek the assistance of an unexpected ally—Jaskier.

Their relationship has been strained since their encounter on the mountain, and their interactions have been scarce. Nevertheless, Geralt recognizes Jaskier's exceptional storytelling abilities and believes he possesses the knowledge to rectify these twisted fairy tales. Despite the potential awkwardness, Geralt approaches Jaskier with his proposition, and to his surprise, Jaskier agrees wholeheartedly to lend his aid.

Eventually, Geralt and Jaskier trace the twisted fairy tales to their source—an eccentric witch with an unusual obsession for these stories. This witch, however, finds the traditional "happily ever after" endings to be dreadfully dull. Driven by her desire to craft a unique tale, she sets out to write her own narrative. As Geralt and Jaskier confront the witch, she fixes her unsettling gaze upon Jaskier and reveals her sinister plan: he is the perfect character for her story.

With a wicked grin on her face, the witch prepares to cast a spell on Jaskier, intending to ensnare him in her twisted tale. Acting swiftly, Geralt steps forward to shield his friend, but his valiant effort only results in both of them being struck by the witch's malevolent magic.

To their bewilderment, Geralt and Jaskier find themselves transported into the very storybook world the witch has created. They are thrust into the first tale, a twisted rendition of Cinderella, with Jaskier cast in the role of the beleaguered Cinderella and Geralt assuming the mantle of Prince Charming. It becomes apparent to Geralt that the only means of escaping this enchanting prison is to follow the path the witch has written and bring the story to its conclusion, including the pivotal kiss at the end.

What should have been a wondrous adventure turns into an excruciating ordeal as Geralt and Jaskier find themselves compelled to share a kiss to bring each story to its conclusion. Their next trial leads them into the tale of Rapunzel, but with a twist—this time, Geralt assumes the role of the main character, while Jaskier finds amusement in witnessing Geralt adorned with long, flowing hair, much to the Witcher's chagrin. However, Jaskier's mirth quickly fades as the story takes a dark turn, leaving him bereft of sight.

As the narrative unfolds, Jaskier experiences the anguish of blindness, relying solely on Geralt's guidance amidst the labyrinthine tower. Geralt, burdened by the weight of his friend's suffering, searches for a solution within the confines of the tale. Yet again, they are faced with the unsettling prospect of sharing a kiss to bring the story to its rightful conclusion.

Reluctantly, Geralt and Jaskier confront the necessity of this intimate act, one born out of a twisted curse that binds them to the story's fate. Though hesitant, they both understand the gravity of the situation and recognize that their sacrifice is the only way to escape this enchanted cycle.

One by one, Geralt and Jaskier find themselves entangled in the roles of various fairy tales. From Beauty and the Beast to Snow White, from The Frog Prince to The Snow Queen, and even to The Little Mermaid and Sleeping Beauty, they are pulled into a tapestry of enchantment. Each story, however, only reaches its conclusion when Geralt and Jaskier share a kiss—a bittersweet requirement that marks their passage to the next tale.

Their final ordeal manifests in the tale of Swan Lake, where Jaskier undergoes a transformation, becoming a swan. As they near the story's end, Jaskier, burdened by the pain of their forced kisses, refuses to engage in yet another heart-wrenching act. He professes his love for Geralt, aware that his feelings are unrequited and that the repeated kisses have taken a toll on his soul.

To Geralt's dismay, as soon as Jaskier voices his emotions, he inexplicably loses his memories, believing himself to be an actual character within the fairy tales. Geralt desperately pleads with Jaskier to remember him, to recall their shared adventures and deep bond, but his efforts prove futile.

In this pivotal moment, the witch materializes, explaining that in order for Jaskier to become part of her new story, he must forget his true identity. The witch reveals that Geralt's presence within these tales is a mistake, and she has come to return him home.

Refusing to abandon Jaskier, Geralt stands his ground, declaring that he cannot leave without the one he loves. He admits his love for Jaskier, a love he had always been too afraid to express, and he is determined to fight for their bond.

Infuriated by Geralt's defiance, the witch and the Witcher engage in a fierce battle. With courage fueled by his love for Jaskier, Geralt triumphs over the witch, reclaiming his agency in the face of overwhelming odds. As the witch's power wanes, Jaskier's memories are restored, and he remembers who he truly is.

This time, Geralt and Jaskier share a kiss that transcends the necessity of the tale. It is a genuine expression of their love, sealing their bond, and together, they are finally transported back to their home realm.

In the wake of their return, Geralt and Jaskier find solace in the knowledge that their love is reciprocated

[dapandapod]

helloooo I am here for mermay prompts! 👀

how about "lost" for Geraskier (bonus points if Geralt is the mer) 💜💜

ALEX YESSSSS, look, this was finished two days ago, and then it was finished again yesterday, and now again this morning. Did I add 1k to the story just to add a kiss? Maybe. Please enjoy <3 Send me a pairing and a word and I will make you some words? ❤️

On Ao3 here

Bardic inspiration be damned, Jaskier decides, slipping once again on the pebbled ground as he climbs the rocky coast line of Skellige.

He had wanted to see the whales, but did not listen to the advice given by the locals to go to one of the cliffs beyond the village. No, Jaskier really thought it would be better to experience it up close and all that.

He didn’t even see a fucking whale. 

Maybe whale watching is done better from up high, but Jaskier had seen this perfect spot down by the rocks and now he is full of sweaty regrets.

Because he can’t find the path he took to get down here and the high tide is sweeping in, making his path treacherous and slippery. 

Swearing profusely, Jaskier manages to at least get above the waterline. His shoes are wet, as are his breeches to the knee, but at least his leather satchel is fine.

Good thing he didn’t bring the lute.

Jaskier settles down to wait it out. It’s a fine day after all, even if the sun is slowly setting, and the sea is as calm as it can be around here.

Despite being so frustrated with himself, Jaskier finds himself relaxing. The sun shimmers on the surface of the sea, and gulls cry above, accompanied by the lapping of waves.

There are some rock formations further out, some of them almost shaped like giant, crooked pillars.

This view is why he was drawn to Skellige after all, so far away from his homelands. The stone he sits on is hard, yes, but warmed from sitting in the sun all day. 

Out of the corner of his eye, to the left, Jaskier notices movement.

When he turns his head, there is nothing there.

Strange.

He knows Skellige is not the safest of places. The coast is riddled with harpies and sirens, the latter especially dangerous this close to the water.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Then he spots something again, but this time straight ahead. It is directly in the bright reflection, so Jaskier has to squint but isn’t that… it looks like…?

The back of a whale!

Jaskier scrambles up to his feet, trying to shield his eyes to get a better look. Yes, that really is a whale out there! A big one, looks like, and far out!

He can only see the top of it, and the strange huffing sound travels across the surface when it blows water high, high up into the air.

The droplets are glistening like diamonds, like rain on a sunny day, as they fall back down.

The whale stays there for another minute or two, breathing deeply, and then the surface ripples as she dives.

Her tail comes up, rivulets of water falling down her fin, and then gives a giant splash as she pushes herself further down.

Jaskier realizes his mouth is hanging open.

He truly didn’t expect to see one, and not this close to the shore. Alright, it was not that close to the shore, but still visible to the naked eye, and he is thrilled.

He scans the surface once more, hungry for another sighting, but once the water has calmed there is nothing else.

Immediately, Jaskier starts going through his satchel to bring out the precious paper and pencil to write this down. When he finds it, he plops back down on the rock, legs crossed, and everything else forgotten.

The words come easily, filling the page with poetry and observation.

So lost in it, he doesn’t even notice he isn’t alone anymore until there is a soft splash right in front of him.

Jaskier startles, a long black line scratching across the page.

He could swear there is the upper half of a face sticking up out of the water, just a few feet away from him.

Pale skin, yellow eyes, even paler hair slicked back over what seems to be a surprisingly human-shaped head.

Jaskier’s heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat. Is this a siren? No, he would be dead by now, wouldn’t he?

Is it a dead person? No, the eyes are watching him very intently, blinking slowly, so it couldn’t be. It could be a drowner, though, but aren't they blue?

When nothing happens, Jaskier forces himself to relax his posture. His entire body is fighting him, that knee-jerk fight or flight response trying to decide which is best to do, but Jaskier decides on neither.

“Hello?” he ventures, and the eyes look back at him. “Who might you be?”

There is no response, which, fair, nose and mouth both seem to be submerged. But the being comes just a little bit closer, and Jaskier fights to keep his breathing even.

Just to be safe, Jaskier puts his papers to the side, pinned in place by the satchel. It wouldn’t do for them to become wet, even if this is where he meets his end. Maybe the skalds can sing about him, were they to find his notes. The bard who got too close, or whatever.

Fear is great inspiration, it would seem.

With a soft sound, the top of a head becomes an entire head, a neck, shoulders, and arms. Pale, glistening, well muscled, and surprisingly human looking, were it not for the gills on his neck, the long fins along the outside of the under arms, and smatterings of scales.

The white hair is longer than he thought, slightly curly now that it is out of the water, and sticking to the sides of the person’s face.

Jaskier blinks hard, taking it all in. 

“Are you a mer?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, as the person pulls themself up on a rock. The lower half of the body is still hidden, but he can see hints of scales on their sides and down over the hips. Pale grey, like pale silver, he thinks.

The person, who looks very much like a man, tilts his head, and seems to scent the air.

“Afraid?” The person asks, his voice raspy and low. Yeah, it absolutely sounds like a he, but Jaskier is not very well versed in Mer anatomy.

“You surprised me,” Jaskier says carefully. “I thought I was alone.”

“You are never alone in the sea,” the mer says between sharp teeth. 

As if that wasn’t a terrifying statement.

But the Mer speaks the language of Skellige, and Jaskier desperately wants to know more.

“Who are you?” Jaskier asks. “Do you live here?”

“This is my territory,” the Mer says, straightening up a little, revealing just a hint of a powerful tail below the surface. “Mine to keep.”

Jaskier smiles at the little display, finding it a little endearing despite the hint of aggression. Like a hissy kitten, trying out its claws.

“Then I am your guest. Forgive me, but I am lost, and I can’t find my way back.”

The mer watches, expression giving nothing away. Then again, expressions just might be different for Mer, Jaskier muses.

“Forgive? Do you need forgiveness for being lost?” 

“Maybe not, but for imposing on your territory. I did not know it was yours. I only wanted to see a whale.”

The mer looks over his shoulder when Jaskier motions with his hand out to the open sea. His profile in the fading light is stunning, and Jaskier feels like he is in some kind of fairy tale.

“And did you see her?” The Mer turns back towards Jaskier.

“I did. She was beautiful.”

The Mer seems satisfied with this answer, and does an odd little hum. It rumbles along his sides, and Jaskier notices another set of thin fins along his ribs. He also notices scars, some new and some old. 

“You may call me Geralt,” The Mer suddenly decides, pulling Jaskier out of a daydream where he considers what else is out there.

“Geralt,” Jaskier repeats. Not what he expected a Mer to be named, but again, who is he to tell? “You may call me Jaskier.” 

“Jaskier.” Geralt says it like he is tasting the name, and with a slight lisp. “Is this land your territory?”

“I am but a guest here as well. I am a wanderer.” Jaskier smiles again, and Geralt’s eyes dip down to it, as if he doesn’t understand.

“So no territory?” Geralt asks, seemingly confused about the prospect.

“None. Well, none but this one.” And Jaskier pats his satchel. “It holds my treasures, and the stories I collect.”

“How does one collect stories?” Geralt asks, sinking into the water again and swimming closer, eyes all the while trained on Jaskier.

He stops when he is about an arm’s length away from the rock where Jaskier is sitting, making Jaskier’s adrenaline run again.

“Afraid?” Geralt asks again with a frown, tilting his head back as if he is smelling the air. Huh.

“A little,” Jaskier admits, seeing no point in lying. “I have never met your kind before, and I don’t know if you would wish to drown me.”

“If I had wanted that, you’d already be dead,” Geralt says with a cold expression, probably meant as a reassurance, but it doesn’t feel like one.

The Mer props himself up on a rock hidden under water and Jaskier now sees the tail, sleek, strong and silver.

“I collect stories by writing them down, and sometimes singing them,” Jaskier explains, deciding he does not want to remain on the subject of drowning while stuck where he is. “Would you like to hear one?”

When Geralt nods his assent, Jaskier thinks about the skellige songs he knows. Most are bawdy tavern songs, to be honest, but he recalls a ballad of the Maid and the Moon.

He sings it with the lapping of the waves and the cry of gulls, slapping his hand to the rock to keep the beat. It sounds better with a drum, but it will do.

Geralt keeps watching him, keeps doing that weird blink of his. Jaskier starts another one, one of war and fire. And then another one about returning home, which aches just a little.

When the songs are done, Geralt doesn’t say anything, just dives beneath the waves.

The sun is getting really low, and Jaskier is a bit worried he will have to stay here all eve. He isn’t wearing much more than his white tunic and a thin pair of trousers, courtesy of the Skelligan summer heat, but the temperature is dropping along with the setting sun.

Geralt returns with less of a splash than Jaskier expects.

His hair sticks to his forehead, and this close Jaskier notices a scar over his left eye. It looks old, and deep, and Jaskier can’t help but wonder if Geralt’s skin would be cool to the touch, if he were to reach out.

With some strain, Geralt reaches up to the rock where Jaskier is sitting, and Jaskier shifts to accept what Geralt is offering. Their fingers touch, and Jaskier learns that no, Geralt is not cold. The ring that he is handed, however, is. 

“Does this one have a story too?” the Mer asks, and Jaskier is immediately flattered for being trusted with Geralt’s treasure.

“I’m sure it does, but it seems it is not mine to tell. Is it yours?”

Jaskier attempts to give the ring back, but Geralt sinks further into the water, shaking his head.

“I do not know it. The ring is yours to keep, Jaskier, as a thanks for sharing your collection of stories with me.”

Jaskier senses this is goodbye, as the Mer swims backwards, back out towards the deep. Despite their short time together, the thought of parting stings. It feels unlikely they will meet again. 

“Come back again, Jaskier the wanderer. It was good to have you as a guest. Your path to land is clear.”

Jaskier blinks in surprise, and then frowns at this statement. When he turns to look towards the rocks around and behind him, he realizes that the tide has pulled back enough for him to climb up towards the safety of land. When Jaskier looks back, Geralt is gone.

The waves lap against the stones as if nothing happened. Before the sun can disappear beyond the horizon, Jaskier gathers his things and carefully makes his way up.

When he’s ascended to safety, he turns once more, looking out over the ocean. The sky is a myriad of colors, birds a dark outline against its splendor, but not a hint of his new friend is to be seen.

-----

The day after brings a storm and Jaskier is unable to go back to the shore for another two days. It’s strange, but Jaskier feels an itch under his skin, he wants to go back, learn more, see Geralt again.

On the third day the sky clears, the clouds finally finishing with their weeping and the wind its howling.

Jaskier is better prepared this time. He sits down on the same rock as before, and he sings while he waits.

Geralt finds him again on that rock, this time swimming close without any hesitation.

“Lost again?” Geralt asks. There is a new set of gashes on his arm, looking like claw marks, too big to be anything Jaskier would ever want to meet. 

“No. Looking for a friend.” Jaskier smiles. “If you will have me as a guest once more.”

Geralt smiles back at him then, stiff though it may be, but Jaskier sees it as the gift it is anyway.

“It would be my honor.”

------

Since Jaskier came to Skellige, he has seen at least three whales, climbed a number of beautiful and treacherous mountain passes, and tasted alcohol strong enough to give women chest hair. He has made friends with skalds and fishermen and errand boys and lords, and his time is coming to a close.

He will miss it. Them. This sharp country and its inhabitants, the living myths found hidden everywhere.

There is one he will miss a lot, Jaskier thinks, as he makes the now familiar climb down the rocky shore.

Saying goodbye is a part of being a wanderer, but it doesn’t make it any easier. His mother always liked to remind him, a goodbye is not a farewell, but still, Jaskier doesn’t have much hope for that.

Geralt is already there waiting for him, and Jaskier plops down on a rock further down so he can dip his feet into the water.

The Mer had expressed great interest in the concept of shoes, struggling with understanding their  function. That first time Jaskier had joined him for a swim, Geralt had made one of his unreadable faces when Jaskier took off everything but his underclothes before getting in.

Technically the cove not a safe place to swim as the currents are strong and had threatened to pull Jaskier under more than once, but Geralt was always there to catch him.

Now, Geralt is sunbathing, propped up in a way to let his bare chest soak up as much sunlight as possible, his tail lazily moving side to side in the shallow water.

He is achingly beautiful, and Jaskier is suddenly struck by melancholy.

Jaskier doesn’t say anything when he sits, only removes his shoes and socks to dip his toes in water that doesn’t get warm, even in summer. 

The Mer opens his eyes, gazing directly at him, eyes as bright as rays of sunlight.

“Sad?” Geralt asks in that direct way of his. 

“Yes,” Jaskier admits, splashing his feet and scaring off the shrimp that were brave enough to approach him.

Geralt sits up enough to lean back on his elbow and watches Jaskier intently.

“Why?” 

“I am leaving soon, my friend. A ship arrives within the week to take me home. To my territory.”

Geralt opens and closes his mouth, then looks out over the sea.

“Hm,” he says, confirming that he understood but doesn’t know how to reply.

Were Geralt a human, Jaskier would have asked him to come with, but he is not. Geralt’s territory is here, his life is here, and even with a boat, the travel across the seas is dangerous.

He will not ask it.

They sit in silence for a long while, Jaskier humming under his breath when a story, this story, starts to take form. 

When it is time to leave, Geralt swims close, gently taking hold around Jaskier’s calves to stay afloat.

“You have been a good friend,” Geralt says, deep in thought.

“As have you,” Jaskier says, aching with the sadness of parting, of leaving Geralt behind.

To soothe himself, he reaches out a hand and cups Geralt’s cheek. Something he has not done before, something he did not think welcome, but Geralt leans into it. 

“I will miss you,” Jaskier says quietly, and the Mer looks up at him through thick lashes.

Then he pushes himself out of the water, heaving himself up on the rock and leaning over Jaskier, into his personal space.

There is water everywhere, soaking Jaskier’s breeches and shirt, but Geralt has leaned forward, and Jaskier meets him halfway.

The kiss tastes like salt and sunlight. Geralt is careful not to hurt him, his teeth hidden behind gentle lips.

“I will miss you, too,” Geralt murmurs against his lips, and then he sinks back down into the water and is gone.

----

Lettenhove in spring is beautiful. The trees are full of buds ready to bloom any day now, bumblebees waking up and doing their confused dance around the flowers in the courtyard.

It is now late enough in the year that summer threatens to overtake the land, waking a wanderer from his slumber.

Jaskier makes his way down past the docks, to the rocky parts where the river meets the ocean.

It’s a habit he can’t shake, and he dips his feet in the cold water, just like he did last summer. He sits there for a good long while, thinking of a kiss and a ring.

There is a ripple in the water to his left, and for a moment, Jaskier thinks he only imagines the familiar face peeking up just over the surface.

But their eyes lock, and half a face becomes a full head and shoulders, as Geralt swims closer.

It is impossible, or, well, improbable. Jaskier feels a giant smile form on his lips and something heavy that’s been on his heart finally lifts.

“Are you lost, wanderer?” he asks, when Geralt swims ever closer, reaching for Jaskier’s calf to hold himself steady.

“No, I'm here to see a friend.” Geralt returns the smile tentatively. “I crossed the sea to find you.”

“Then you are welcome as my guest, friend,” Jaskier says warmly, reaching down to touch Geralt’s cheek, just like the last time they saw each other.

And just like last time, when Jaskier leans forward and down to meet him, their kiss tastes like salt and sunlight.

[jenlizrose]

me n a friend did a little shoot inspired by our fave band

[dftea]

Give all you have been or could be

Accidental Warlord AU (@inexplicifics). Aiden/Sasha, Lambert/Milena, Livi/Dragonfly, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier - All Is Not As It Seems

or

Duke Aleksander of Velen, Lady Milena de Roggeven, Lady Oliwia Bartol, and Viscount Julian de Lettenhove are plagued by strange visitors to their noble houses.

Who are these black-clad intruders and why are they so determined to disturb their isolated perfect lives?

But all is not as it seems.

[read on ao3]

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

Who is the Most Aspirational Fictional Writer in Media?

[k-laconia-bug1]

A different type au of Fairy tail crossover with Witcher but Jaskier and Lucy are still twins

@thesebrkenbones

When Jaskier and Lucy are 9 Queen Calanthe heard news of Jude Heartfilia neglect on the twins decided to raise them Herself alongside her daughter Pavetta, allowing Jaskier and Lucy Magic to flourish and grow stronger while also not being separated

Calanthe and Layla were best friends growing up growing distance after their respective marriages and are eachother godmother to they're children

Lucy and Jaskier joined the Guild when they were 15 per there mothers wishes and when they were 19 is when tenrou Island happened Jaskier (in pretty much all my au's) is left behind and he wanders the path accepting the odd job here and there when he hears news of what happened he is distraught running back to Cintra to Tell Calanthe when Jaskier turns 21 (2 years into the 7 year timeskip) he meets Geralt

When growing up Jaskier and Lucy decided to learn a secondary magic Re-quip and are nearly as skilled as Erza most to Aquarius assistants along with Calanthe that they don't just use a whip as a weapon

Along with meeting Geralt. Jaskier keeps his magic hidden for 2 years (when Jaskier turns 23 4 years into the time skip) its exposed during Djinn episode right before it can slit Jaskiers throat Jaskier has it knocked out cold with a burst of magic after enchanting Geralt into a deep sleep for 8 hours (suck it Geralt get a full night's rest) with the aid of a wool bomb

Jaskier drags Geralt to Fairytail to explain that he has Ethernanos Magic

Geralt with a tad upset with his Bard for not telling him he understood and invited Jaskier to kaer morhen during the last 3 years of the time skip Geralt and Jaskier have grown much Closer

Geralt helps Jaskier with the grief of losing his twin sister and Wendy

Geralt and Jaskier meet Yennifer on a mission request it was near where they were at the time and it was yennifer simply putting up a request to have a discussion between magics simply wishing to know the differences

Yennifer and Jaskier grow close with a sibling sort of rivalry, and Jaskier Gently tells Yen that Mind Magik is strictly Forbidden as the magic council no matter if it's choas or Ethernanos Magik

Yennifer and Geralt never get together they just have a drink or two whenever to talk about Jask

Aka protection squad

When Lucy meets Geralt for the first time she just knows Gerskier are in love and Lucy approves of the tall witcher

Lucy and Yennifer meet and also grow a sibling bond

Jaskier eases Calanthe rage when the law of surpise happen

Calanthe "Jules you better stay with that witcher make sure my grand baby will be safe"

Geralt when drunk is a Jaskier simp and becomes a big teddy bear just wanting Jask cuddles

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Every time my mom watches Maleficent I think that I might have liked that movie more in isolation

[fangirlsfavoritebardboy]

Jaskier and Geralt were taking a bath in their room at a local inn after a big monster hunt that left both of them covered in blood and general monster filth.

Now, Geralt had never been too concerned about his body in front of Jaskier. The bard had bathed him before, after all. Perhaps, it was the proximity that they were at, or the fact that instead of the bathwater shielding him from the bard, they were sharing it like a blanket, but he had never felt so exposed.

Geralt became overly aware of his scars from battles new and old. They were the signs of a warrior, and yet, they made him scarier and rougher. They were something his bedmates seemed far too interested in like he belonged on display in a freak show. They were so close that Geralt was sure Jaskier had already studied them, memorized them, stared at him like the freak he was.

Geralt snapped out of his spiral when the bard's arm splashed the water. He had a rag in hand and was scrubbing his skin. As he cleaned himself, Geralt saw things he had never really noticed before.

Jaskier had his own scars. He had cuts and nicks from snapping instrument strings on this forearms and fingers. He had small cuts on his shoulders from running into bushes and thorny vines. He shifted his leg, and Geralt noticed the scarred-over scabs on his knees that he sustained from falling, though if they were from adulthood or childhood, Geralt wasn't sure.

The bard finished his bathing and tossed the rag into a bucket of soapy water. He turned around and stood up to leave.

It was then that Geralt realized he had never seen Jaskier without a shirt. He had seen him with unbuttoned ones, sure, but never fully off. Jaskier was usually picky about his privacy.

But as the bard left the tub and grabbed a towel to dry off, Geralt couldn't help but stare at his back. Along Jaskier's shoulder blades were two long, faded scars. They were straight and with precision like they were from a doctor or surgeon.

They were on the same places Geralt knew vila and fairies kept their wings.

"What happened to your back?" Geralt found himself asking without thinking.

Jaskier paused, already dry and pulling on his pants. After a beat, he resumed as normal and said nonchalantly, "I was deformed when I was born. My parents had a surgeon fix it."

The bard slipped on a sleep shirt. He descended into bed and kept his back to the witcher.

It was a simple reply, but Geralt was left speechless.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Jaskier who is the child taken in exchange for a changeling. He's not genetically fae, but he is culturally fae. Like, he loves nature and trickery and cream. He has a distaste for lies and iron. He is the MOST polite about hospitality.

Maybe Geralt has suspicions about Jaskier being fae; however, it’s just how he was raised.

Bonus points if Jaskier isn’t human, he’s just not fae.

That ending is the best part omg I'm crying Imagining some fairy/siren/selkie/??? Jaskier who all the witchers are CONVINCED is a fae and he's just like "No, I just have manners lol."

[thedemonofcat]

“Dandelion!”

“I actually go by ‘Jaskier’ now,” the fairy said from where he lounged atop a giant mushroom. He rolled over to look down at the white-haired witcher. “What do you want? I haven’t even been in the human realm for years.”

The witcher replied, “I know. I don’t come to slay you. I’m here to bargain. Your bargains are known to be fair.”

Jaskier sighed, rolling his shoulders and fluttering his wings. “You see, this is why I left the human realm. Everyone wants to make deals. Why does everything have to be about deals?”

“I’ve brought treasures.” The Witcher continued, ignoring Jaskier’s point. “Take any of them. Take all of them. I just need twelve hours of uninterrupted, restful sleep.”

That ignited Jaskier’s interest. He rolled off the mushroom and soared down to look at the witcher properly.

Wow. He did look worse for wear. Jaskier almost couldn’t appreciate how beautiful his eyes were because of how bloodshot they were.

“Oh, you poor dear. You do need rest. Such a thing is easy for me to grant. So much so that I’d feel guilty taking your treasures. I’ll just ask for a little kiss instead.

Although Jaskier thought his offer was quite generous, the witcher balked.

Well, “there’s no need to be rude!”

“Sorry,” the witcher mumbled. “I just haven’t before.”

“Oh?” Jaskier said, and then he understood. “Oh! I did not mean to be so bold as to ask for your virtue.”

The witcher honest-to-gods blushed and grumbled, “not a virgin.”

“But you are a tad innocent,” Jaskier teased.

The witcher stuck out his hand, saying, “I accept your deal.”

Being the gentleman he was, Jaskier took the gloved hand and brought it to his lips. The magic of the deal burst to life the moment his lips brushed against black leather. “Sleep well, darling.”

Because he was a soft touch, Jaskier caught the suddenly sleeping witcher and even carried him back to his steed (lovely girl. Very protective, but she was smart enough to not try to bite Jaskier until Geralt was sleeping beside her).

Jaskier assumed he would never see the witcher again.

He was proven wrong.

Jaskier thought he’d been careful—at least, careful enough. But somehow, he’d still ended up in human hands.

"Let me go!" Jaskier shouted, yanking futilely at the iron chain clamped around his ankle. His wings beat desperately, but he couldn’t get far.

"Now, I may have exaggerated a bit about the ‘monster problem,’” came the smooth, smug voice of his captor from the other side of the door. “I don’t need you to kill anything, Witcher. Just to help me... train my new pet."

A key turned in the lock, and as soon as the door cracked open, Jaskier lunged. His hands missed the nobleman by inches, but he did manage to snatch a feathered quill from his belt.

"Bad!" the nobleman yelped, yanking the chain to pull Jaskier back. "I do apologize—”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed at the scene before him; he’d expected a standard job, but this was anything but. "You captured a fae," he said, voice low with warning. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"