#geralt is soft for jaskier

[justslightlyconfused]

“I need coin, peace, and quiet”

Geralt, babe, i’m sorry to be the one to tell you this but intentionally driving your horse at 2mph so the personification of unhinged talking chaos can keep up with you doesn’t vibe well with 2/3 of that life aspiration

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 139

Geralt has noticed some... Things... About his traveling companion, Jaskier. Troublesome things. Like how he's almost certainly of faeblood. It's just little things he does or says or is that make Geralt's imaginary radar go off. He never uses iron utensils, He is truthful to a fault, He's mischievous and lustful, He never breaks a promise, not in an honorable way, but almost in a way as if fate is forcing his body to complete whatever he promised, no matter what. He's also gorgeous. Even in times when the road should've worn him down. Where there should be dust or grime, Jaskier somehow still shines like a freshly polished jewel. And don't even get Geralt started on the impossibility of Jaskier's freakishly vibrant blue eyes. That is NOT human! There are always wildflowers when Jaskier walks in the woods, even sometimes when they are out of season. Trees seem to bend toward him, always making a cover for the rain to keep him dry. When he went swimming, Geralt swears the water looks cleaner afterward. One time Geralt got tired of human-safe food, and decided to cook their dinner that night differently. He cooked one serving all the way, safe for humans, and one only a little, still nice and raw, unsafe for humans. And yet Geralt came back from feeding Roach to find Jaskier happily chowing down on the raw one. Geralt went to warn him, but stopped. Could Jaskier really not tell the difference? Surely the texture and taste was different... And then Jaskier was done. Geralt waited a few days, just sure Jaskier would fall ill, as humans usually did when eating food Geralt has learned is unsafe for them, but Jaskier didn't fall ill. In fact, he seemed healthier than ever. Which could only mean he isn't human. When Geralt talks to Jaskier and hints about knowing however, Jaskier doesn't seem to realize. Which means he must not even know. Geralt paces around camp. How is he to break the news to Jaskier that Jaskier has fae in his blood? Perhaps his mother cheated, perhaps one of his parents were a changeling, perhaps a grandparent wasn't what they said they were, perhaps he, himself, is a changeling... Jaskier returns from a bathroom break and cocks an eyebrow at his witcher pacing around camp like a restless animal. "Geralt? Darling, what are y-" "Jaskier, you're fae." Geralt blurts. Fuck. That is not how he wanted to break the news to poor Jaskier. Jaskier is standing there, face paling, eyes wide, breath coming in short rasps. It's difficult news to deliver, and Geralt did it insensitively. Jaskier seems to be panicking. Geralt will help him, will comfort him. Fae or not, that's his Jaskier. Jaskier is freaking the FUCK out. Geralt found out he's fae! Fuckfuckfuck! He thought he was so good at hiding it! Sure, there were a few slipups here and there, as there is with any big secret, but he really thought Geralt was none the wiser! He should've known the monsterhunter would recognize a monster when he saw one. Now Jaskier must decide if he'll die by Geralt's hand, or try to outrun the witcher, as surely no man wants to be companions with a member of the trickster faefolk.

[wordpress-blaze-227319762]

The Oath Is Not a Suggestion

By Shaun A. Todd

"I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States"

This is not a tagline, this is not a tweet. This is the oath—the oath that is etched into our history, binding every person who dares to lead this republic. It's not open to interpretation, and it is not optional. It is not, as Donald J. Trump recently said on national television, a matter of "I don't know."

When asked point-blank by NBC's Kristen Welker whether he should be uphold the Constitution, the sitting President of the United States responded with "I don't know".

Not "yes."

Not even "of course."

He responded with uncertainty. A shrug. A shoulder roll heard around the world.

Let's be very clear: This was not a gaffe, it was a confession.

Mr. Trump has spent years treating the Constitution like an obstacle course instead of a moral compass. He has praised autocrats and touted "love letters" from North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un. He has dismissed court rulings and called for the impeachment of judges who rule against his administration. He has ignored subpoenas and encouraged political violence--all while pretending to be the keeper of American greatness. A man who cannot affirm the Constitution is not defending America, he is dismantling it.

Yet, too many have shrugged it off. The political class has stayed silent, including Republicans who repeatedly call themselves "constitutionalists." The pundits have pivoted, and the mainstream media buried it in a sea of other quotes as if a president casually disavowing his oath was just another soundbite in an endless news cycle.

We cannot afford to normalize this.

We cannot afford to excuse it.

We damn sure cannot afford to pretend that it's harmless.

This country has lost too many lives--soldiers, activists, and ordinary citizens--for us to sit silently while the presidency is wielded like a wrecking ball. John Lewis didn't get his skull cracked on the Edmund Pettus Bridge just so a president can say "I don't know" when asked whether he supports the very document that justifies his power.

The Constitution is not a menu. You don't get to pick and choose . You don't get to embrace the 2nd Amendment while shredding the 14th Amendment. You don't get to quote the founders in one breath and incite insurrection in the next. The oath is not about loyalty to party, it's about loyalty to principle.

If that oath means nothing to you, you do not belong in any elected office. And you damn sure don't belong in the Oval Office.

We are not playing politics here, we are defending the last line between civilization and collapse. Because once the oath becomes a joke, the presidency becomes a threat.

Source: The Oath Is Not a Suggestion

[whumpypepsigal]

#besties

[annmarcus63]

The thing is that nothing is the same, not after Lambert pointed out, in a deeply impolite manner, that Jaskier, despite his best efforts, is Geralt's whore. But no, it couldn't be, could it? They have been together for over eight years now. Yes, they sort of broke up on the mountain but they're back together now, aren't they? 

But the real problem here is not the years but the way Geralt treats their relationship. In fact, Lambert has helped him to open his eyes. 

How he treats Yen and how he treats him.

The truth is that Jaskier has made peace with the fact that he'll always be second best. That Geralt lo... cares for him but not as he cares for her. 

They say that the evil is in the details.

Geralt shows no affection to him outside the bedroom. Geralt is distant, and this has never bothered him, because he always thought that Geralt was like that with everyone else. 

He never touches him, not a pat on the arm, not a caress on the cheek, just like he's doing it now with Yen. Geralt never looks at him like that, with so much fervor and devotion. 

He doesn't even look at him like that in the bedroom, not even when the witcher is fucking into him and whispering how good he feels.

So Jaskier starts an experiment. He won't look for Geralt, he'll just wait and see. 

And oh, how he observes the unspoken words of love that Geralt holds back everytime Yen is nearby. How he'll reach out to her, only to feel her, and the way he leans closer to smell her perfume, lilacs and gooseberries. 

He wonders if Jaskies smells good to him. 

Geralt catches him looking at them, a longing expression on his face surely, and sends him a quizzical look but Jaskier shrugs it off, as if his entire heart wasn't weeping. 

And Jaskier is afraid to ask, first of all, Geralt has never reacted well to Jaskier's serious talks, so... yeah, he's afraid. 

But of course, how could he be anything more than a bed warmer when it took him twelve years to get the witcher's attention. It only took Yen an hour for Geralt to fall head over heels in love with her. 

Days passed and Jaskier stood staring at the ceiling of his bedroom waiting for Geralt, tears trickled down his pillow as he heard him pass towards Yen's room.

[kuwdora]

@perseruna I LISTENED!! I MANIFESTED!!

the lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch geralt/jaskier/yennefer ~6k, explicit. d/s, sexual roleplay, banter, erotic massage. more tags on ao3.

Trouble is afoot and it will be a long evening for the White Knight.

The White Knight has been in the Queen’s service for more than half his life. He currently stands beside her royal majesty in the throne room, bearing witness to the thorn in the Queen’s side. A thorn he will be called upon to remove.

Whether he was pushing miscreants from the kingdom with his blade, doling out punishments on behalf of the Queen, or sating her majesty’s sexual desires, the White Knight fulfilled his responsibilities every day of his life. However such consistency was not common in all of the Queen's loyal subjects.

This spy in particular, a faun with broad shoulders and a nervous smile, a tufted little goatee and soft, folded ears. He has a penchant for distracting the castle guards with jovial questions about their favorite snacks. He has often derailed the White Knight's retinue from their duties with gossip from the latest winter festival.

Mr. Tammus had come into the Queen’s service only a few short years ago. The White Knight had been on assignment looking for allies to enlist to the Queen’s service. He’d ventured into the western mountains, seeking the brawn of a clan of minotaurs. It was there that he discovered Mr. Tammus beguiling the clan leader and her grandfather with a musical jig. Mr. Tammus had accidentally broken a curse that had fouled their young with human-features. Mr. Tammus could have asked for anything from the grateful clan but instead requested only shelter and their undivided attention while he performed his latest song.

Upon witnessing Mr. Tammus’ charm on the minotaurs firsthand, the White Knight knew the faun would prove useful for the Queen’s service.

Tammus indeed proved to be a valuable asset with eyes and ears in the community and borderlands, able to strike up friendships all due to his cherub-like face and penchant for outlandish tales that could enchant anyone with ears. He found secrets and gossip in the unlikeliest of places that was useful to the Queen and her royal guard.

Yet there are times where the faun’s flightiness has tested the Queen's patience.

Which is why Mr. Tammus is currently on his knees and bowing, snowmelt slipping from his hair onto the floor. read on ao3

[olliethewallflower]

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

Jaskier has abs of steel

Bonus : geraskier and yennskier similar soft kicks

[irrlicht-writes]

dandelions

“If ever I’d be reborn, I’d like to be a flower,” the bard says, while gently sitting in a field, picking flowers for no reason really. Geralt sits not too far from him, keeping an eye on Roach so that she might not eat too many flowers and sour her stomach.

“Hm,” the Witcher replies, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues undeterred, “as a flower, I could waive in the wind, dance under the sun and sing of worlds yet to come.”

“You sing plenty now,” the Witcher reminds him, “why not sing of those worlds now?”

The bard laughs, and it’s a clear, bright sound, and it engulfs the entire valley.

“If I sang of those worlds now, darling Witcher,” he plucks another flower, deep violet, and adds it to his ever-growing bouquet, “they would all tell me to shut up and sing the coin song again.”

“We both hate the coin song.”

“Indeed we do! It’s the price of fame, although I’d wish they would have forgotten it by now. I haven’t even sung it in ages! I’ve written catchier refrains.”

The Witcher snorts. “You have? I must have missed them.”

The bard throws some flowers in the Witcher’s general direction but as flowers do, they all fall to the ground before ever hitting their target. “I am wounded,” the Witcher says tonelessly, for nothing but mocking purposes. The bard huffs and turns his attention back to his flowers.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard says again, “I’d like to be a flower.”

“Hm,” the Witcher replies again, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues undeterred yet again, “as a flower, they would not hear me sing at all. But if they could hear me on the wind, they would love me all the more.”

“They love you plenty now, hearing you sing already.”

The bard laughs again, like the Witcher does not understand.

“No, my love, they do not. Oh they love me, yes, my prancing and my singing, and my flirting, and my twirling, but me, they love not. If I were not to sing, not to prance, not to flirt, not to twirl, not to joy their hearts for coin – they would take no interest in me. Another washed up wanderer on the road, they’d say! Throw him some mouldy bread and hope he brings no plague with him!”

“I’ve not met a many washed up wanderers brave enough to follow me into the fray.”

The bard smiles then, a whispered little thing the Witcher almost did not see. Roach wanders around, sniffing the different flowers and yet, she had eaten not a single one of them.

A pleasant silence befalls them in the valley, as the bard continues to pick more flowers – who he is picking them for, the Witcher does not know. The bard does things sometimes that make no sense, because he wants to. The Witcher has learned to accept this, and this is a pleasant thing to do, a pleasant place to rest.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard starts again, “I’d like to be a flower.”

“Hm,” the Witcher replies once more, because it is tradition now, not knowing what to say.

“Think about it,” the bard continues – as per tradition – undeterred, “as a flower, mayhap a dandelion, I could be carried by the wind, being carried to where I need to go.”

“You travel plenty now,” the Witcher says, “no need to be carried by the wind.”

“That might be true, dear heart, and yet! How limited are we, bound to the ground beneath our feet, the saddle of a horse? The wind! The wind knows no limit, crescending into a storm. And! Darling Witcher, how would we know where we’re needed? We can only travel so far, see so many places. What if we’d be needed in the other direction? How would we know?!”

“All we can do is move forwards, bard. We do our best where we can.”

The bard plucks his last flower and turns to the Witcher. In his arms, he holds all the flowers he picked – colourful and pretty, a plenty a piece. In his hand, he holds a dandelion, with its seed ready to be carried away.

“That we do, my love. That we do.”

He looks at the dandelion in his hand, and the wind plays gently with his hair.

Quietly, he blows and the dandelion seeds get picked up by the wind.

The Witcher and the Bard look after them until they are out of sight.

Then, they move on to the next town, and the bard plays music in the tavern. He prances, and sings, and flirts, and twirls, and they love him.

Many, many years later, Geralt comes across a field of flowers.

In it sits a boy, picking flowers.

He notices Geralt from a distance, and looks up, waves, and grins brightly like the sun. He wears a flower crown made of buttercups and dandelions.

“If ever I’d be reborn,” the bard whispers quietly, “I’d like to be a flower.”

[identity-404]

I need more of Geralt looking at Jaskier softly. Looking at him like he hung the stars in the night sky.

I also need more of Jaskier being confused every time Geralt looks at him this way, like he panics thinking there's something on his face or his hair is a mess. Not understanding that people can stare at him lovingly.

[rapidhighway]

making gifs of the hexer scenes and listening to all of Geralt's self loathing

[darklyhandsome]

What if, every day, Jaskier makes Geralt stand in front of a mirror and repeat every single compliment Jaskier can think of to describe Geralt. Until the day he actually starts to believe them.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Witchers have their own set of courting traditions. One of these traditions is to present a token from a particularly difficult hunt to their intended.

When they were lovers, Geralt had carved Yennefer a pendant from the tusk of a basilisk.

Years after that relationship crashed and burned, Geralt realized his feelings for Jaskier. Geralt wanted to court Jaskier, but he knew he needed to match or top the token he had given Yennefer. Otherwise, his commitment could be questioned.

Then, Geralt got the brilliant idea to hunt a series of monsters for Jaskier, using components from each to make one grand gift.

THIS IS SO GAY I LOVEEE ITTT No thim making a lil outfit for his boyfriend with lil bits and bobs made from monsters and beasts omg

[nezmar13]

Somewhere between the darkest hour of night and early rays of sun, White Wolf holds his bard with no urgency nor a heat. He lets his Songbird melt into his chest, feeling his soft smile pressed under his ear until he tilts his head back and claims him in a kiss.

[readingnreccing]

Stop One Heart From Breaking by inexplicifics

the witcher | explicit | 43k | jaskier x geralt x eskel x lambert | complete | pack bonding 

Jaskier's been a ruined omega for six years now. He's been bought by more alphas than he cares to count, and sold on again; he knows how this works. Being bought by a witcher is a new level of terror...and then it turns out it's not just one witcher, but three. Jaskier is fairly sure he's going to die. And then it turns out that witchers really don't act much like human alphas at all.

This story is so wonderful and tender and loving. Jaskier is a "ruined omega" and sold in Omega auctions to whoever bids the highest and they can do whatever they want to him. Jaskier doesn't have much hope when it comes to alphas, in his experience they are all very violent. But then Geralt buys Jaskier from the auction and takes him to Lambert and Eskel. (Which just makes Jaskier even more worried, because now there's three alpha witchers). But the witchers are different from all alphas he has ever met. And they treat him well, respect him, protect him. And as much as Jaskier is afraid of trusting them, he feels safer than he's ever felt.

This story is so wonderful I don't even know what to say. Jaskier has Trauma, and his witchers are so good and loving and patient with him. Their relationship develops so well and honestly. It really is a feel good story. The hurt all happened prior to the story, and the whole fic is the comfort. (The smut is also super hot). - Also, all 4 of them are together, not just with Jaskier.

Author’s tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Recovery, Cuddling & Snuggling, Kaer Morhen's Fanon Hot Springs (The Witcher), Explicit Sexual Content, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Bonding, Omega Verse, Alternate Universe, Bathing/Washing

Remember to leave feedback to the author! <3

[seaoffandoms]

i have screamed the biggest scream that i have ever scrumpt

[gatekeeper-of-witchcraft]

minor gripe with the witcher fanbase. I understand the desire to write jaskier as some kind of mythical creature so 1) he can be immortal or at least, very long lived and stay with geralt longer, 2) fun fantasy shenanigans, and 3) an explanation for why he’s Like That

but I think it defeats his narrative purpose of being a human counterbalance to geralt and literally humanizing/softening him