#here we have a feral Geralt

[fangirleaconmigo]

Since TWN S1 dropped, people have argued on here nonstop about Jaskier..., is he tough, is he soft, is he sweet, is he feral, (and on and on)

Firstly, the most obvious answer is that people are many things at once. Obviously. These things are not mutually exclusive.

But also. Guys this is all extremely, wildly relative.

Think about it.

To Jaskier's terrifyingly powerful friends (Geralt can kill like ten people at once, Yen burns whole armies) he's just a little wet kitten. He's a precious little package to look after when times get scary.

But compared to other POETS? Other ACADEMICS? Other MINOR NOBLES? he is inSANE.

Imagine him teaching at Oxenfurt. The youths are like HOLY FUCK , this man has walked the entire continent. He has seen five hundred kinds of deadly monsters, and lived to tell. He's survived kidnappings, walked through war zones, he has mementos from like three different historical battles on his walls. His dearest friends (family, really) are people who are sung about in dark cottages like they are demons and world destroyers. HIS BABY NIECE IS LIKE *THE* WORLD DESTROYER TO SOME PEOPLE. He understands war strategy, every single aspect of every faction, and how to survive almost anything.

He would be so intimidating to them.

Then Geralt and Yen come to visit and squish his cheeks like look, it's our soft little baby, we need to check on him because he cannot fend for himself. I hope no one here has hurt his feelings, we have learned that he hates that so we no longer allow it.

And he's like...can I come on this mission?

And they're like idk it's so dangerous for you.

And the students are like ????????

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 27

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 26 🟣 Part 28

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, angst, lore, some more angst. And something called Disgruntled Teenageer Syndrome.

Word count: 3k

A/N: I know I've been teasing y'all with some beautiful warnings on a very lovely chapter involving a ver feral Marshall and a very suddenly present August... Well... This ain't it! (It's the next one, so please put your pitchforks down :c )

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @summersong69 @mis-lil-red

@sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

@plaidcat4815 @wa-ni @lovemusicpart2 @lizzystuffsthings @manysecrets2020

@sarcasmoverlordxo

“August?” Your footsteps echoed through the hallway, which looked suspiciously empty and rug-less, unlike the rest of the house — however much or little you’d seen of it, anyway.

“Yes, princess? Why are you—” He probably finished that sentence, but you couldn’t hear, because you’d bumped into something, and your phone was now lying on the floor with a massive crack in the screen. When you looked around to find the cause of your phone’s untimely demise, you were suddenly faced with none other than Charles Brandon.

“Terribly sorry,” he muttered. A suspiciously cold hand landed on your shoulder with slightly too much force. “Priya just called to let me know she’s feeling a lot better. She’ll be back later this week, so this won’t happen again. Were you… calling August?”

You nodded — an answer that clearly confused Charles. “Why? He’s home.”

“I can’t find anyone in this damn house. Where am I, even?”

“About as far away from August as the house allows,” he said with a slight chuckle to his voice. “The others are closer.” You barely spotted him casting a quick glance over your shoulder, and before you could turn around, he tightened his grip on your shoulder, preventing you from moving. “Tell me who’s behind you.”

“Do you think I have eyes in the back of my head or something?” You rolled your eyes at Charles, wishing you could somehow wipe the annoyed expression off his face.

“You don’t need your eyes,” he said on a sigh. And here you were, thinking Mike was the impatient one… “You’re connected to them on a level you can’t even comprehend. You can sense them.”

You glared at Charles. If you could sense them, you would, right? The fact that you didn’t was quite the indication that you couldn’t.

He reached for your cheek, gently trailing an icy knuckle along your cheekbone. “Poor thing,” he murmured. Was he closer to you? Were his eyes bluer? His smile kinder? “They’ve not taught you half of what you can do. I—” The chill left behind by his fingers lingered, but Charles had disappeared.

“I hope for his sake that August didn’t see that,” Marshall muttered behind you. “Are you alright?”

“What just happened?” you asked as you turned around, only to find Marshall a lot closer to you than expected.

“You’ll have to talk to Charles. I doubt he’s entirely sure of what happened… Sherlock should kn—”

“Sherlock already knows.” Another body appeared behind you — Sherlock, of course. “I’m afraid he’s locked himself away for too long…” Something about the tone in which he spoke spread the lingering cold throughout your body, allowed it to seep into your bones.

“Don’t worry about it right now, love,” Marshall said as he wrapped his arms around you. It didn’t help much. Don’t worry about it? Right. You’d worry as you damn well pleased, thank you very much! “We might focus on that point he made, first. It was a good one.”

Before you knew it, you were in the living room — a living room? How many of those did this place even have?

“Two. Not including the one in Charles’ suite,” Marshall helpfully provided, and before you could even think of saying something, he added: “We’re all well aware this house is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Alright, alright…” Mike excitedly flapped his hands at no one in particular. “Why did you drag her here?”

“I’m assuming it’s because she keeps getting lost?” August asked.

“Yes,” you admitted. “And Charles scared me into dropping my phone, which is now dead, so I can’t call you anymore, and…”

“I finally get to buy you a new phone?” He’d been begging you to let him replace your phone for months now, but you’d always refused him. You were not about to enable his tech-buying mania. Besides, your phone had always worked fine. Alright! It had been falling apart at the seams, but it worked, so it was fine. That excuse was gone now.

“More importantly,” Marshall said, eyeing Mike in a ‘calm down’ kind of way, “we were just more or less accused of keeping her in the dark on her own abilities. And rightfully so.”

You watched them discuss your conversation with Charles for a moment, not entirely sure what was going on, but the idea seemed to be that your connection to the guys should allow you to sense their presence without having to be near them, and it was something that needed some training. Training you would be receiving right now.

“And how would that work?” you finally asked, fighting back a smile when the guys looked at you with guilt in their eyes. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

The guys stayed quiet for a while, until… “We’re not doing that, August.”

“I didn’t…” He looked at you with suspicion in his eyes. He didn’t what?

“Looks like August’s thoughts aren’t safe from you anymore, either,” Marshall chuckled, smiling wider as he looked at the increasingly confused look on August’s face. “We recently found out she has an aptitude for my gift.”

Safe to say, August wasn’t amused by this revelation.

“So, since blindfolds are out,” Marshall continued the previous conversation, leaving an unintelligibly grumbling August to his sulking. “Sherlock? Any ideas?”

“Naturally,” he replied dryly. “But I’m afraid depriving you of sight will most definitely be part of the first exercise, darling.”

And that’s how you ended up on a chair in the living room with a blindfold, while the guys took turns standing in front of you, making you tell them who it was. You got it wrong a depressing number of times, if you did say so yourself.

“Sweetcheeks, listen,” Mike’s hands appeared on your shoulders. Wait. Those weren’t Mike’s…

“This is trippy, guys,” you said, trying to yank your blindfold off, but Marshall’s hands were — of course — faster than yours.

“What is?” Mike asked again. The sound came from the right place… Were you wrong? No.

“Marshall touching me while you are talking. It’s strange, okay?” For lack of a better term, because this whole thing had been strange from the beginning, to say the least.

“Okay, so you know it’s him because you know what it feels like when he touches you,” Mike said with a little too much of a suggestive edge to his voice. He continued, and his voice moved away from you, until he was standing in front of you. “You know what it feels like when he’s near you, too. You’ve just never paid attention to it.”

“I don’t know how!” you cried out in frustration. “What am I supposed to feel?”

“Do you remember our conversation about coven bonds?” August chimed in. You nodded. “Great. You’re bound to us in the same way we are to each other.”

“Interesting, but ultimately unhelpful,” you sighed.

“I didn’t want to bring this up,” Mike said carefully. “But when August divorced us, so to speak… You must have felt that, right?”

You nodded again, wincing involuntarily at the unpleasant memory. The feeling that something snapped. The sharp pain… No! This had to end, you couldn’t go through that again, you…

“Keep going, Sweetcheeks,” Mike encouraged you in a strained voice. Was this hurting him as much as it was hurting you? “You’re almost there, I know you can feel it.”

“God knows he does,” August said, confirming your suspicions and sounding a little too happy about the situation. “He’s right, though, you’ve almost got it.”

“You said the ties weren’t tangible,” you complained, gritting your teeth in a desperate attempt to fight back tears.

“It would depend on your definition of ‘tangible’, princess,” August sighed. “Get on with it. The sooner you get this, the sooner it stops being uncomfortable.”

And just as you thought you couldn’t handle the pain of that horrible memory for a single second longer, something changed. August was right — though you’d think twice to tell him that. ‘Tangible’ wasn’t the right word. It wasn’t necessarily the wrong word, either.

“It’s complicated,” Marshall said softly. When did you stop wishing he’d stay out of your head?

Sherlock ordered Mike to move around the living room. He didn’t make a sound — of course he didn’t. Vampire. — but you didn’t lose track of his whereabouts even a single time. “This is still weird.”

“Can’t be weirder than all the other things,” Mike said as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you tight. “That was great!”

“But it’s just you.” You pouted at him, and then looked at the others. “I still don’t have a clue about the others.”

“Figuring that out won’t be easier,” Sherlock explained, “but it will entail far fewer risks.”

“What risks?” you demanded, ripping off the blindfold — this time without anyone trying to stop you.

“I may or may not have risked breaking our bond to help you find it,” Mike said, shrugging. Was he just shrugging this off? Motherf—

“You’ll be the death of me,” you said, glaring up at him and his dumb, apologetic smile. “How?”

“Remembering that feeling tugs on those strings,” Mike explained. “It’s uncomfortable, but it allowed you to find it. There was a small chance of you going too deep and…”

“I would have lost you?”

“You’ve repaired your connection before,” August noted. “There’s a very decent chance you could have done that again.”

“I don’t want to do that again, because it sucked,” you snapped, eyeing Mike angrily.

“Water under the bridge, love,” Marshall said, smoothing his hands over your arms. “Now, all you need to do is find where Mike is attached, and look for the rest of us.”

On special occasions such as this one, you missed the way your life had been before apparently attaching yourself to a bunch of vampires.

“You don’t mean that,” Marshall said with a smile.

No. You did not. But this was still weird.

Weird or not, you did what Marshall told you to do, and you were pleased to find that it was indeed not painful this time around. Only significantly more difficult. “I can’t… get a hold of it.”

“You don’t have to, princess,” August sighed. “You just need to feel it.”

“I mean I lose it before I can figure out where it goes,” you snapped back. It probably didn’t help that they were crowding you. Everything felt tangled in a way you couldn’t put into words. “Can you take a step back? Maybe two, even.”

They immediately did as you asked, and the task didn’t necessarily get any easier, but it sure as hell wasn’t as confusing. “I think I’ve figured August and Marshall out, but Sherlock… I’m so sorry.” Why did this bring you to tears? Seriously. Why were you crying?

“That’s okay, darling,” he said gently. “My age is making this more difficult. It’s not you.”

“You should try this with Melot,” Mike added. “I still have trouble finding him sometimes, because—”

“Mike, later.” August snapped. “This is complicated enough without another history lesson, or biology lesson, or any other kind of lesson.”

He was right: this was difficult, and exhausting, and now that you were starting to get the hang of it, you wanted to get in some more practice before you got really tired, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite grasp the tether that connected you to Sherlock.

“It will be easier once you’re more comfortable seeking out the others,” Sherlock promised, but it didn’t bring you much comfort at all.

“And his gift doesn’t help, either,” Mike said slightly too enthusiastically. “It’s annoying, the way he kinda pops in and out of existence. It can make it really tough to keep track of him, and—”

“Mike!” August cut through his monologue. “That’s unhelpful, and you’re rambling. She’ll get there when she gets there. I have stuff to do.” No one ever asked August what kind of stuff. You were fairly sure you didn’t necessarily want to know.

Marshall and Sherlock excused themselves as well, and you were left standing around in the living room with just Mikey, who looked at you with a devious glint in his eyes. The kind you knew all too well, and adored more than anything in the world. “Wanna play a game of hide and seek with me?”

Was that a silly suggestion? Sure. Childish, in a way? Absolutely. Did it sound unbelievably fun? Definitely yes. He must have picked up on your enthusiasm, because before you could answer, he was gone, leaving you in the living room all by yourself. Or so you thought.

“What are you waiting for?” Leon was standing right behind you, his lips right next to your ear. “It’s not like you could ever catch up with him.”

“When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” he said, with a devious hint of amusement to his smooth voice. “The lingering tension between you and Marshall is too good to stay away from.”

“So, we won’t be rid of you for a while, then?” you said, faking impatience and disappointment. For some reason, you didn’t mind him lurking around the house.

“I’d like to point out that I live here, too,” he said sharply. “It’s… It used to be tough for me to feed here. A problem that appears to have been solved by your arrival. If you’ll allow me, that is.”

“Allow you to do what, exactly?” Why was it so impossible to get rid of that lump in your throat?

“Napoleon, that’s quite enough.” Charles. “You’re venturing into dangerous territory, as you well know. Though I suspect that only makes the situation all the more enticing to you.” He shook his head, seemingly disappointed.

“Forgive me, father,” Leon said, a devious smirk forming on his face. And then, he was gone.

“Stay away from him,” Charles said on a deep, annoyed sigh.

“Like you stay away from me?” you countered, putting your hands on your hips and conjuring every bit of defiance you could find.

“Yes.”

“I’m trying. He just…”

“Shows up?” Charles asked, quirking an eyebrow. “He does that, yes.”

“So do you,” you huffed. You barely even knew this man, and he was pissing you off thoroughly.

“My apologies.” He sounded sincere. Then again, what the hell did you know? “I’m not quite used to having a guest I attempt to avoid.”

“Then don’t?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice. I promise it has nothing to do with you, personally.” Well, that wasn’t reassuring at all. You glared at him, but before you could say anything, he was gone.

With a great deal of effort, you pushed your frustrations with both Leon and Charles aside, and concentrated on your connection with Mike. It was faint, but definitely still there. You had no idea how long you were standing there, but with every passing second, the feeling became clearer — and by the time you opened your eyes, the feeling had become so strong you could almost see it. Now, all you had to do, was follow it.

Mike would make for a nice reward for your efforts.

With every step, the pull became stronger, and it was extremely difficult to go in the wrong direction, as long as you stayed focused on finding Mikey, and your feet almost moved of their own accord. You knew where he was. You knew where to go.

There he was. Behind this door. As soon as you opened it, familiar hands grabbed you and dragged you into the room — although ‘room’ was a bit of an overstatement — and you were pushed against the door as soon as it fell shut behind you.

“You found me,” Mike whispered. His tone was playful, as was the way he playfully bit your earlobe, and then your neck. You prevented his descent between your boobs by pulling his face up to yours.

“Is this a broom closet, Mikey?”

“Yes.” He focused his attention on your neck again. “I couldn’t hide in my room, like… that would have been too obvious! Besides… This is fun.”

You knew that if you tried to deny that, you’d ultimately be unsuccessful, so you didn’t bother. Instead, you pulled Mike’s face to yours and kissed him.

As per usual, he didn’t waste time, slipping his tongue into your mouth with his signature impatience as he lifted you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. Pinned between his body and the door, you spent your time trying not to giggle at his unparalleled enthusiasm. Until the door was gone.

You expected to fall backwards, but Mike held you up — thank God, because you didn’t exactly feel like getting a concussion today. Or any day, for that matter.

“I need a broom.” You recognized Melot’s voice — not that the accent wouldn’t have been a dead giveaway if you hadn’t. To your dismay, Mike put you back on your feet and pulled you into the hallway. “And can you guys get a fucking room, maybe?”

“What’s his problem?” you asked when Melot disappeared as suddenly as he’d shown up.

“Disgruntled teenager syndrome,” August chuckled. You’d stopped wondering where they came from. Vampire fast, vampire here. Simple. “He’s a little lost, now that his role as patriarch of the family has been passed on to Sherlock.”

“He never had much of a childhood, did he?” you wondered out loud.

“Did you hear him when he said he’d been married for nearly six years before he was turned into a vampire at age nineteen?” August asked, showing some of that signature derisive tone he’d always used with you before you entered into your agreement with the guys. You nodded. Of course you’d heard that. “Did you, by any chance, do the math?”

Honestly, you’d been a little preoccupied with the heaps of information that had been flung your way at the time, so no, you hadn’t. But now that August mentioned it… He’d been…

“Fourteen,” August whispered. “He got married when he was fourteen.”

You considered the implications of that for a moment. “Are there therapists for that?”

Both Mike and August laughed at that comment, but you didn’t think it was particularly funny. He’d been married at fourteen. Regardless of whether or not that had been normal at the time, it sure as hell wasn’t now, and…

“There are,” August answered. “And he’ll come around. He’s just looking for his place right now and that’s not an easy thing to figure out.”

[melhyan]

🎇✨ It’s December 31st, 2024! ✨🎇

Here we are, folks—the grand finale of 2024!🎭 The curtain’s closing, the hobbits are heading home, and I’m staring into the fiery eye of 2025 like Frodo with a to-do list. Let’s get into this:

A./ Art Grind Resolutions 2025™️ (No Promises Edition):

Back on the grind! Like Geralt on a monster contract or Gandalf after yelling "YOU SHALL NOT PASS" I’ll be dusting off my brushes, my pens, and my cursed Dwarven sketch tablet. Expect more art, more chaos, and fewer excuses.

A Schedule? MAYBE. We’re aiming for organization here, but no promises—this isn’t Rivendell, and I don’t have Elrond planning my days.

Commissions are opening! That’s right, a shiny new comms sheet will drop in 2025. Look out for it soon! (Or, you know, soon™ in classic D&D planning.)

Adoptables galore! I’ll be trying to whip up 1–3 adorable, edgy, or delightfully cursed adopts every month. Tieflings, elves, maybe even a Witcher-inspired griffin bard? WHO KNOWS.

B./ Level-Up Goals:

More detailed pieces! Like crafting the ultimate dragon-slaying sword in Kaer Morhen, I’m pushing myself to work harder on those sweet, sweet details. Sparkly magic effects? Yes. Backgrounds? We’ll see.

Art tutorials?! A sprinkle of artistic chaos for you to learn from? Maybe. If I don’t get distracted by building another NPC in D&D.

Patreon revamp! I’m aiming to polish this up so you lovely folks can enjoy exclusive behind-the-scenes chaos, sketches, and more.

C./ New Stuff:

Some projects are lurking in the shadows like Gollum with the One Ring. Stay tuned for the shiny reveals.

Oh, and let’s not forget: 2025 is also the year I fully embrace my Self-Indulgent Era™️. That means you’ll probably see a lot more of the hyper-specific, slightly cursed, and delightfully niche content that lives rent-free in my brain. If I want to spend three days drawing Eredin, King of the Wild Hunt, in thigh-highs and a garter belt, guess what? I’m doing it. And if you see it posted, just scroll on by, Geralt. This is between me, my pencil, and my artistic freedom.

I’ll try to stop overthinking every little thing I want to share. I mean, it’s my page—why not throw in some weird Witcher-D&D crossover fanart? Why not write an entire essay on why emo Legolas would 100% listen to My Chemical Romance? (He would. Aragorn would roll his eyes but secretly agree.)

I’ll sprinkle in more of the stuff I love, the stuff that makes me laugh, cry, or sit there saying, "Is this too weird to post?" Spoiler: Nothing’s too weird anymore. 2025 is the year of feral, unhinged creativity. If you’re here for it, great. If not, well, I’m not changing the dice rolls for anyone.

D./ GENERAL DISCLAIMER FOR 2025 AND BEYOND!

If you catch me lovingly drawing, writing, or screaming into the void about a particularly unhinged, deeply problematic blorbo (you know the ones), please consider this your blanket disclaimer: I do NOT condone their actions, behavior, or life choices.

If they’ve committed war crimes (looking at you, certain Witcher villains), I am NOT saying war crimes are cool.

If they’re the kind of character who would definitely steal candy from a baby, set the baby on fire, and then gaslight the witnesses into thinking the baby was the problem, just know I’m not here for that behavior in real life.

If they’ve poisoned wells, burned villages, or lied on their taxes, rest assured I am firmly against all three (especially the taxes part, IRS scares me cause I'm really bad at maths and they have calculators).

However, will I still make self-indulgent art of them lounging dramatically on a throne, wearing lingerie (again), holding a glass of wine, and staring into the distance like the messy little war criminal they are? You bet your chaotic little soul I will.

Examples include but are not limited to:

The sexy but utterly terrible lich who probably eats people but, like, is so aesthetic about it.

That one D&D villain who monologues for 20 minutes while their henchmen are actively losing a fight.

The morally bankrupt sorcerer who only uses their powers for evil but still has incredible eyeliner game.

Eredin, in lingerie. Again.

Just remember, folks: it’s fiction and art here. Let me thirst for the villains with the tragic backstories and the devastating cheekbones in peace. In real life, I promise I’d be the first to call the local paladin squad on them.

Probably. Maybe. Okay, fine—if they apologized really well, I’d consider negotiating. That said, me thirsting for the local baddie doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go full Vicious Mockery on their ass to roast them to filth about their behavior. I’m not a bard—good looks won’t move me from my morals. Not yet, anyway. (Eredin, stop calling. babe)

So buckle up—if you see more lingerie Eredin, angsty bard OCs, or a niche analysis of why Geralt would win a baking contest against Radovid (he would), just know this is my ✨artistic vision✨.

Let’s raise a glass (or a mug of hot cocoa, Witcher style) to the new year! Thank you for all your support this year—whether it was likes, comments, shares, or chaotic energy in my inbox, you’re the Legolas to my Gimli, the Roach to my Geralt, the Tarrasque to my roll for initiative.

See you in 2025! Let’s make it one for the (spell)books. 💫 (P.S. If I don’t follow through, just blame the dice rolls.)

[bambirex]

It's A Game We Play: Chapter 5

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/omega/beta dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe-modern setting, jaskier is having the worst time of his life, valdo is here to make everything worse, confusion, banter, insecure jaskier, internalized slut shaming

Rating: teen and up audiences

Full word count: 13,761 words

Chapter word count: 3,051 words

Chapters: 5/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

*

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Chapter summary: In which Jaskier has to deal with PVSD (post-Valdo Stress Disorder), feral goats, and three people from his past that he thought would never ever see again.

Author's notes: Jaskier deserves a break, but he isn't getting one. Sorry, my poor son. I'm continuing my stride of inflicting more emotional turmoil on these poor, unfortunate souls.

Read on Ao3

*

By the time Jaskier got home, he managed to calm down a little bit. Well, he wasn't ready to commit gruesome murder anymore, but his brain was still ticking like a bomb just imagining Valdo Marx's smug grin. Why was this happening to him? What has he done to deserve this? It must have been a cruel, sick play of fate that Sara's mother happened to be best friends with the manager of Valdo's annoying theater band. Jaskier would have to sit down with her and beg her to pick someone else- surely there were other bands that wouldn't ask for millions just to play at a small wedding!

Worst case scenario, he would ask Priscilla and Essi to back him up and play some Sandpipers songs. Amaryllis specifically asked him not to play, because she wanted Jaskier there as a father, not as an employee, but desperate times called for dramatic measures. Either way, Jaskier needed to figure out a way to get rid of his rival before he ruined his beloved baby's big day.

The inn was bustling with guests at this time of the year. Each of them greeted Jaskier happily when he walked through the door. It made Jaskier smile. He had many guests who returned each year, and he saw new faces as well all the time. It was a small business, but people loved the Dandelion Inn, and its owner. Jaskier just wished the costs of holding up a place like that would be cheaper. He's been struggling with paying the bills on time lately, and since the inn was a mostly seasonal business, he had trouble scraping enough money together in the quieter months. But Jaskier promised Auntie he wouldn't let the inn fall apart, no matter what happened.

"Have you seen Amaryllis today?" Jaskier asked Angela, his receptionist. She was a sweet old lady who was hired by Auntie, and Jaskier refused to kick her out, even though she worked slowly and kept mixing up the room numbers. In fact, Jaskier refused to fire anyone from the old staff. There weren't many job opportunities on the island, and even though Jaskier struggled with the costs of keeping all the staff, he didn't want to put them out on the street.

"She had to go to the library, emergency call," Angela explained, not even looking up from her magazine. Jaskier raised an eyebrow.

"Emergency? In a library?"

"The pipes started leaking and she was called in for emergency inventory. But before that, she dropped off a girl here and said something about the goat shed, but I couldn't hear her, you know my ear isn't that good anymore, dear."

"Okay," Jaskier concluded with a sigh. "Wait, what girl? Sara?"

"No, not Sara! I would recognize her! No, it's that one, sitting at that table!"

Jaskier turned to where Angela pointed. A teenage girl with ashen blonde hair was sitting at a table in the lobby, doodling in the guest book. Jaskier didn't recognize her as one of the guests, but with his head being all over the place lately, it was entirely possible he just forgot he's seen her before.

The girl looked up from the guest book and caught Jaskier staring. She grinned and waved at him. Jaskier waved back with a smile. Yeah, must have been one of the guests. He needed to keep better track of these things.

Amaryllis did help him out at the inn when she could, but she had a job at the library and couldn't always be there. Which was a shame, because her memory was much better than Jaskier's. Unfortunately, Jaskier was getting old, he needed to accept it.

"Did Amaryllis say if she fed the goats?" He asked Angela. She didn't react.

"Angela!"

"What was that, dear? You know my hearing isn't great!"

"The goats," Jaskier said louder, articulating each word, "did Amaryllis feed them?"

"I don't know, I don't think so."

Jaskier sighed, slumping against the reception desk. "Great. I'll have to deal with those stinky beasts again."

Another thing Auntie entrusted him with before she died was taking care of her herd of goats. As much as Jaskier loved his aunt, he did curse her sometimes for leaving those animals in his care. He inherited the whole place: not just the inn, but the small flat connected to it where he now lived, and that godforsaken goat shed in the yard.

Jaskier was pretty sure those goats had a personal agenda against him. They were so sweet with the guests, patiently letting small children pet them. They even posed for photos. And they absolutely adored Amaryllis, who, for some reason Jaskier couldn't comprehend, loved those monsters back. Jaskier still remembered the headache when his five years old daughter toddled inside the house with a baby goat in her arms and asked Jaskier if the goat could sleep in her bed. When Jaskier said no, Amaryllis managed to smuggle it in anyway, causing Jaskier a near heart attack when he pulled back the covers one day, and found a goat in the bed instead of his child.

Despite their otherwise sweet behavior, the goats acted completely feral around Jaskier. They bit him and knocked him over constantly, and Jaskier was sure his eardrums would give in one day with how loud they kept screaming. Maybe they sensed he wasn't exactly fond of them. All the same, they were a necessary evil that came with his inheritance.

He changed his clothes quickly, because he was sure his pretty floral shirt would be ripped apart by the goats. He changed it to a simple white shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts before he grabbed a bucket, cursing under his breath all the way to the shed.

"First Valdo Marx, then these fucking goats," Jaskier huffed, "what's next? The aliens will come to abduct me? Fuck's sake. Emergency inventory, my god. As if they don't have several copies of War and Peace. No, let's save the books, it's all fine, who cares that I will be murdered by these monsters?"

He came to a halt before the shed, taking several deep breaths. Alright, he needed to calm down a little bit. He experienced too much stress lately with the wedding planning. Deep breaths, positive thoughts, he told himself. Everything was gonna be okay.

He opened the door and slipped inside the shed, holding the bucket out in front of him like a shield. Just like that, one of the goats, an old, black one that Jaskier was convinced was Satan himself in disguise, knocked into it, sending vegetables flying.

"Asshole," Jaskier huffed, entangling the goat's horns that got twisted in the handle of the bucket. "I brought you lunch, and that's how you thank me!?"

He heard something stir in the corner. One of the baby goats kept sniffing at a large haystack, craning its neck to look behind it. It started stomping on the floor with its hooves, the sound not helping Jaskier's impending headache.

"The hell are you doing there...?"

Jaskier's face went pale when he noticed something that looked like a human leg, pulling back behind the haystack. The blood ran cold in his veins. Someone was in his shed.

"Amaryllis?" He tried. No response came. Jaskier's heart pounded like a hammer inside his chest. He slowly approached the haystack, the hairs on his arms standing on end. When he said he was gonna be abducted, he meant it as a joke!

"Who's there?" Jaskier called again, trying to will his voice not to tremble. "I have a metal bucket in my hands, it hits hard! And I have pepper spray in my pocket! And a rape whistle! I would reveal myself if I were you before it was too late, because I'm... I'm feral!"

A hand emerged from behind the haystack, palm up, as if signaling they came with peace. Jaskier still held onto the bucket, just in case.

The rest of the stranger's body was revealed. Jaskier's eyes widened, and his mouth fell agape. He wobbled on his feet, white noise filling his head. His vision started to swim as amber eyes looked into his own. Familiar white hair, with a few pieces of hay stuck into it. A painfully sharp jawline, now covered with a beard. A tall, broad built, that didn't seem to change all that much since Jaskier last saw him. And he still wore black, from head to toe.

Before Jaskier had a chance to say or do anything, another figure emerged from behind the hay. Jaskier's jaw somehow dropped even lower as he spotted that reddish-blond hair, and those always inquiring blue eyes. Sharp features with thicker stubble than last time. That lean body, clad in expensive clothes. That careful little smile.

Jaskier dropped the bucket, the sound like a gunshot when the third figure came in sight. Black hair, not reaching the middle of her back anymore, just falling past her shoulders. Intense violet eyes. Plump lips, a little chapped. Warm skin and a black dress that hugged her still perfect body.

They all changed here and there, but they mostly looked the same. There was no mistaking them for anyone else. Now, Jaskier only had one question.

"What in the fucking fuck of a fucking hell you all are doing here!?"

"Jaskier," Radovid spoke first, his voice dripping with fake confidence, even though his eyes looked alarmed at Jaskier's outburst. "It's so good to see you, again."

"What are you doing in my goat shed," Jaskier wasn't proud of the way his voice came out as a whimper. But, excuse his French, he was shocked as all hell. Three figures from his past, three people he's romanced literal decades ago, the three people in the sea of his one-night stands that left the biggest mark on him, now stood in front of him. He blinked several times, but the vision didn't pass. They remained standing there, confused, as if they weren't the ones who showed up here for no reason.

"That's a long story," Yennefer sighed. She wrapped her arms around herself as she blinked up at Jaskier. "Shit, it's been a while. I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

"Me neither," Geralt chimed in. He gave Jaskier a small, uncertain smile. Jaskier did his best to ignore the feeling it gave him. "You look..."

"No, no, you're not getting out of this without an explanation," Jaskier scoffed. He put his hands on his hips, glaring at them with all the anger he could muster. "Why are you even on the island? What do you want?"

"What do you mean," Radovid chuckled, a little bitterly, "what do we want? Is this a joke?"

"If it is, it's not funny," Yennefer scoffed. She gently pushed a baby goat away that tried to chew on her dress. "We didn't travel hours on a fucking ferry for you to pretend like you don't know why we're here."

"What!?" Jaskier could feel himself getting hysterical. "What kind of sick prank is this? Which one of you came up with this? How do you even know each other!?"

"Jaskier, we came as quickly as we could," Geralt said. "We dropped everything at home just to come here. It's been... a very weird and exhausting couple of hours. Would you tell us what's going on?"

"Me? You tell me what's going on! I haven't seen your faces in twenty years, and now you suddenly pop up in my freaking goat shed!? And I'm the one who owes YOU an explanation!?"

"You were the one who wrote to us!" Radovid said, pointing a finger at Jaskier and making him raise an eyebrow.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You sent us all an ominous letter, about some life and death situation and how we needed to come see you in person," Yennefer explained. "And that we should pack enough clothes for a few weeks. You promised you would be at the dock, but it was actually your..."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait," Jaskier interrupted her, holding his hands up. He looked over all of them, his confusion growing with each passing second. "Hold your goddamn horses. I did not write you a letter. I didn't write a letter to anyone, let alone the three of you."

"Okay, then what is this?" Geralt asked, reaching into his pocket. He handed Jaskier a crumpled piece of paper. Jaskier skimmed it. The lines blurred together in front of his eyes as he realized what happened.

"That's not my handwriting," he whispered to mostly himself, "that's Amaryllis's."

Oh, holy sweet cow. It all started to make sense. Amaryllis asking about her other parent. Her expressing the need to find out who it is, so they could be there at her wedding. His diary mysteriously switching places in his drawer. He did not misplace that diary. Amaryllis must've taken it out and read it. And she was a smart girl, and a very determined one, as well... if she read it all, if she read about Jaskier's affairs, she put the pieces together - the pieces that Jaskier never dared to.

He nearly collapsed. He only managed to stay on his feet because Geralt caught him around the waist, holding him up.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes full of concern. The other two moved closer, hovering at his side anxiously. He was surrounded by them in his anguish. It triggered an old dream, a wish he had made a long time ago. Memories flooded his brain, memories of the most intense pain he has ever felt in his life. Pathetically sobbing for someone to come and hold him - Geralt, Radovid, Yennefer, someone, please. I can't do this alone. I wish you were here and held my hand. Auntie, why did you have to leave me so soon? Hell, Mum, I hate you for what you did to me, but I would settle for even you. I just don't wanna give birth alone, don't wanna raise this baby alone, I'm scared, I can't do this...

"My daughter wrote to you," Jaskier whispered. He tore himself away from them, stumbling on his feet. "She pretended to be me to lure you here."

"Fuck," Yennefer whispered, "we've met her."

Jaskier snorted. "You did, huh? I guess she was the one waiting on the docks, then."

"Indeed," Radovid sighed. "She said something about how we should get to know each other better before her wedding, and that one of us should be there for some reason. Then, she practically shoved us back in our cars and told us to drive here. She made us hide out here and she promised she would explain everything, but she got a phone call and left."

"This isn't real," Jaskier laughed hysterically, shaking his head. "This is a nightmare. No, actually, I think I'm dead. And now I'm in hell. Oh, I might be burning soon!"

"Why did Amaryllis write to us?" Geralt asked. "And why does she want us to be there at her wedding?"

"Oh, that's gonna be great. Just absolutely gorgeous. I'm going to strangle her."

"Jaskier," Yennefer hissed, "would you calm down and tell us what's going on!?"

"So, none of you have a hunch," Jaskier snorted. He sighed deeply at their confused stares. "Well, I assume you all realized I've gotten to know each of you pretty well in the past."

"Yeah, we got that," Radovid huffed. Jaskier ignored the emotion the sheer jealousy in his voice evoked in him.

"Well. I have a suggestion why Amaryllis picked you three out of my past affairs, specifically."

Geralt sent him a confused look. "Why?"

"I assume it's because she read my diary, where I wrote about you. And the entries were dated. And well, she might have done a little bit of Math. Which wasn't difficult, considering I'm unmated, so no known daddy or mommy disrupting this lovely picture."

Recognition soon started seeping into their eyes. Their faces turned pale simultaneously.

"When was Amaryllis born?" Radovid asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Jaskier rubbed at his temples, feeling his headache increase.

"May 2003. You're good at Math, aren't you?"

"Now I wish I wasn't," Radovid groaned. Yennefer's eyes widened.

"You're implying that one of us...?"

Geralt swore under his breath. Jaskier imagined the goat shed collapsing over them. He wished it would happen.

"That one of you is Amaryllis's other parent, yes. And she clearly figured that out, too. Congratulations to someone here, I guess."

The silence was deafening except for the goats bleating in the background. Jaskier's three ex lovers stood still as statues, none of them daring to say anything. Jaskier felt a tear run down his face, but he felt too exhausted to wipe it off.

He struggled so hard to forget about them, to erase their smiles, their voices from his mind. To stop remembering their warmth, the feeling of their arms around him. The thought of seeking them out was constantly on the back of his mind after he found out he was pregnant. He knew their address, but he also knew that he didn't mean anything to either of them, not the way they meant to him. They had other things to take care of, and Jaskier wasn't one of them. Would they have even come back, if they found out Jaskier was pregnant? Would they have cared at all? Geralt, with his insistence that he couldn't give Jaskier what he wanted anyway, Radovid with that giant company, and Yennefer who had better hopes than tying herself down on a tiny island - they wouldn't have come back for him, no way.

Why they were here now, Jaskier didn't understand. Why now, after so many years? How come they didn't forget about him? Why were they standing here, staring at him in confusion, after twenty years, just because of a stupid letter?

Maybe it was because they actually... no, he couldn't allow himself to go there. They didn't love him. Not like that. This was all just a giant misunderstanding.

Jaskier felt like he was going to get sick. This was just too much.

He faintly heard them calling his name as he stormed out of the shed, but he didn't turn around.

[pikapeppa]

Hi there, I hope you're doing alright!

Just to say that I absolutely LOVE the 'Chamomile and Gwent' saga, it's so beautifully written I'm OBSESSED with it! It's so amazing, I've recently re-read it for the third time and it makes me so emotional every time 😭🥹

I love how the reader is so kind and witty and soft Geralt legit got me feral. I'm 100% he'd be so proud like, meeting with a client for a contract and be like "And this is your assistant?" "This is my WIFE" (*insert proud hubby face here*) AND REGIS THANKS FUCK YOU GAVE HIM MORE SPACE WE NEEDED THAT, YOU DID A GREAT SERVICE TO HUMANITY And don't, I mean it DON'T get me started and this absolute treasure that is the one shot with baby Ves jgbrkeguk Anyway, sorry for the rambling but I had to get that off my chest you're amazing, thak you again for one of the best fanfictions ever ❤️

This comment is SO SO NICE. Sorry for the rambling?? Are you kidding?? THIS IS SO LOVELY TO HEAR 😭❤❤

I'm so thrilled you loved the saga enough to read multiple times, you honour me!! Soft Geralt is SO PRECIOUS, I can't get enough of him in game so I dumped a whole shitload of soft Geralt into this series HAHAH. I'm so glad you enjoyed Seeing Regis in this series too!! I love Regis SO MUCH - he might be my fave character after Geralt hismelf?? -- so I had to put him in this series as much as I could! I HAVE A FEVER AND THE ONLY CURE IS MORE REGIS 😂

You even read the Baby Ves oneshot!! AH YOU REALLY HONOUR ME 😭❤ thank you so so much for the love!!

ALSO THOUGH YOUR ART IS AMAZING. I love your tarot series!! Tarot art is always such a GOOD CONCEPT and you've put so much thought into your selections and it's all just so vibrant and good 😭❤❤ thank you for sharing your talents!!

If anyone is curious, Chamomile and Gwent can be found here on AO3! It's 3 fics spanning >600k words, Geralt x f!Reader, rated E for smut (and violence)!

-- love from your friendly neighbourhood Pika! xoxo

[lucigoo]

Fear is a Sickness:Witchers are the cure

#260 - Fear is a sickness, @flashfictionfridayofficial

Pairing -Geralt/Jaskier

Warnings - Minor off screen CD, Mourining/grief, non discriptive funeral pyre

Words - 965

Summary - Cirliia is safe, Voleth Meir is gone and yet the sirving Witchers have oto send their fallen brothers off.

So much grief, so much pain, but at least these witchers have a bard to sing them farwell. Ao3 Link here

Kher Morhen was quiet. Quieter that it had been for a long time.

Geralt, Lambert, Eskel and Coen had set the funeral pyres up, ready for Vesemir to use Igni on them to set their spirits free.

Cirilla had been hiding away, terrified of herself and what she could do to those that were still standing.

Geralt knew he should go to her, that he should help her get through this. After all, it wasn’t any more her fault than it was anyone else’s.

He just didn’t know how or what to say to her. He was a lot softer now than he had been 25 years ago, before meeting Jaskier, but he didn’t believe he was soft enough for a child. A traumatised one at that.

Jaskier had just scoffed at him and said tough shit, he had one now and if he ever spoke to her the way he had Jaskier, he would find a way to kill him in his sleep.

Geralt didn’t doubt him one bit. His bard was feral when the occasion called for it.

Speaking of his bard, he looked over to see him hand a piece of paper over to Vesemir, who grunted and nodded in turn.

When he turned back around, Jaskier gave Geralt a small but sad smile. There was so much they still had to talk about, so much they had to hash out, but like Jaskier said, now was not the time. They had all winter after all and right now Geralt had brothers to see off into the abyss. Brothers to bid a last farewell to.

The 5 witchers lined up with Vesemir in the centre. “The bard is going to sing something,” he said gruffly.

“Indeed. I know witchers aren’t much for words when deeds show the measure of your heart. So allow me to thank and honour each of your brothers, your friends, for protecting us all and the world at large. I will have written a song for each of them by the time we head out on the Path again in spring, but until then, please allow me to sing them farewell. These men were brave and kind and fear of them, of you all, has made all your lives harder. It is unfair, and it is unkind, but fear is like a sickness that ravages the mind. So, to these good men, these good witchers, these good souls, I bid them adieu, to a place where fear can no longer touch them.”

Jaskier’s voice went quiet as he started to slowly strum at his lute strings, humming softly.

Vessimer stepped forward and cast Igni on their fallen family. “Sleep well, my boys,” he said tiredly, defeated.

“Sleep well,” the younger witchers chorused.

They stood there quietly until Jaskier’s melodic voice broke the silence. He sang softly, sweetly, almost like a lullaby.

It took Geralt a moment to hear the words, but when he did, he didn’t even try to stop the pain he felt from crossing his face. If the way the others were crowding one another was any indication, they felt the same.

In the shadowed corners of the world,

Where whispers weave their web of art, Fear takes root, a silent seed,

A sickness that spreads with stealthy speed.

Oh, fear, the cunning thief of light,

It steals our good sense in the dead of night,

But listen close, my witchers, and hear: Fear is a sickness if you let it steer.

It creeps like mist across the mind,

A fog that blinds, a knot that binds,

Yet courage blooms where shadows fall, Witchers are a remedy that breaks fear’s thrall.

Oh, fear, the cunning thief of light,

It steals our senses in the dead of night,

But listen close, my witchers, and hear: Fear is a sickness if you let it steer.

The cure lies not in potions or signs,

But in the fire that burns and warms, The ember of hope, the spark of might.

That banishes fear and reclaims the light.

Oh, fear, the cunning thief of light,

It steals our senses in the dead of night,

But listen close, my witchers, and hear: Fear is a sickness if you let it steer.

So sing this truth, let it resound,

In every heart where fear is found,

For courage, love, and daring cheer,

Shall heal the sickness because witchers draw near.

Jaskier let his voice fade away as the music filled the space he had previously sung into. Geralt slowly walked towards his bard and they stood side by side as the other witchers finally left the funeral pyre.

“Jaskier...” Geralt started, unsure what to say.

Jaskier slowly stopped strumming and lifted a hand to Geralt’s cheek and moved his thumb, stroking it. “Not now, dear heart. There will be time for this. But now is the time to say goodbye, to be with your brothers. We have time, Geralt.”

“Do we?” Geralt croaked out.

“We do, so much time. Go. I’ve got Cirilla for the night. Tomorrow is a new day Geralt. We don’t have to rush just because we are afraid,” Jaskier whispered into the night air.

“I am. Afraid I mean,” Geralt admitted quietly.

“I know, love. So am I. But we can’t give into the fear, we can’t let it win. After all, Witchers chase the fear away,” Jaskier said with a smile before he leant in slightly and kissed Geralt’s cheek.

“Go. Try not to be afraid, just for this night,” Jaskier said before walking away.

They had so much to sort out, so much to be afraid of and for. But Jaskier was right. Feat was a sickness, a monster with invisible claws.

And Geralt was made to destroy monsters, no matter what form they came in.

[eggcompany]

Jaskier and his Snuggly Wuggly Killing Machines Part 8

1:48- “Daddy… Daddy… Can I haves some food?” Geralt asked as he nudged his daddy. He was hungry and he wanted a crunchy something. When Jaskier didn’t respond Geralt thought it would be appropriate to simply just take daddy to the kitchen. Unfortunately Jaskier is not used to being *lifted* out of his BED while he is A S L E E P . So he screams and flails but Geralt just holds him tighter cause he doesn’t wanna drop his daddy. 

“WHAT THE EVER LIVIN- fucking hell Bear… you scared me half to death! I’m sorry I yelled. Where are we going?” Jaskier said when he realized it was not a Jaskiernapper but a warm cub. Jaskier was wondering where he was going but he was happy to let Geralt haul him through the house. 

“Daddy, I’m hungry. I want something crunchy. Don’t want like… food though. Just want crunchy! Oh! Oh! And cold!” Geralt said as he gently placed Jaskier down on his feet. Jaskier yawned and scratched at his stomach for a moment thinking. 

“Ice chips?” Jaskier asked Geralt who decided that the floor is a good place to sit. Geralt shook his head no. “um… lettuce?” Jaskier offered. Geralt lit up and smiled “Yes please! I like lettuce! Esky does too!” Geralt explained as Jaskier got the only quarter eaten head out of the fridge

Jaskier, like the feral beast he is, grabbed and pulled off a large chunk of the green vegetable and handed it to the baby. Geralt happily crunched up the after midnight snack and Jaskier just put it back in the fridge and stretched his arms. 

This is gonna be a long night…

2:26- “Daddyyyy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.” Jaskier woke up and sat up. Lambert. “Yes, love?” Jaskier said in a sleepy tone. “Can I sleep here? Geralt kept drooling on me and Eskel was rubbing on me. I wanna sleep with Daddy!” Lambert explained or more whined. He looked exasperated, still wrapped in his quilt. It looked like he had shed his pants and instead slipped an oversized hoodie on over his underwear. Jaskier scooted over and lifted his duvet up so Lammy could get under. “Thank you, I love you daddy” is all the youngest said before he was cuddled up to Jaskier’s side with his quilt as a barrier. Oh… I didn’t think he’d want to… I can get used to a quilt.

3:56- THUD “What the fu-” Jaskier said as he bolted up and threw his arms over Lambert’s head and body. He scanned the room and saw two pairs of eyes looking at him from the food of the bed. “Hello boys. What was that noise?” Jaskier asked and then Lambert sat up and glared at them. “I hate you so much, go fucking die” Lambert said and rolled over and snuggled back into the crook of Jaskier’s armpit. Oh he’s just a morning person isn’t he.  Geralt disappeared again and Eskel just answered with a “Sleepover… sorry Lamlam” and he disappeared over the edge of the bed. 

Jaskier sighed and pushed a very disgruntled Lambert off of him for a moment to peak over the edge of the bed. The two older boys had made a little nest on the floor. Blankets and pillows surrounded them and they cuddled close to one another. Geralt, again bare to his skin, laid with his back to the bed and Eskel, bare down to his underwear, laid facing Geralt and was sucking on the tip of the snowy grey ear. Jaskier had to admit- This is pretty damn cute. Jaskier nodded and laid back down and let Lambert huff and grunt until he was laying down again with his face practically shoved into Jaskier’s armpit. 

Odd clingy things… Nothing and no one has ever loved me more! 

5:32- Jaskier gets woken up because there is a particularly sharp something stabbing him in the thigh. Jaskier soon noticed that his bed seems a bit… small. Oh wait the bed isn’t small. There’s just three humongous purring, oven warm witchers cuddling around him. The feeling of waking up surrounded by vibrating rumbling and a wet feeling on his leg- What is on my leg? Oh good lords-.

Jaskier looked down at the stabbing wetness and Geralt was mouthing the seam where his sleep pant’s pocket met the side seam. I’ve got to order some binkies. 

Jaskier took in the scene around him. Naked cub chewing on his pants while straddling his leg. Pretty . Puppy rubbing himself on his other leg while chewing on the quilt. Luckily for Jaskier it felt like the wolf was not… aroused. The rubbing must be a coping thing. A self soothe. And the youngest, the kitty, swaddled up in his quilt from head to toe in the fetal position facing away from it all sucking on his own tail. Cute.

Jaskier thought about what he should do for a moment. He couldn’t get up. He might be able to reach his phone… Meh a few more hours of sleep is best.  

7:52- Jaskier woke up to growling. Loud growling. He woke up a bit more and realized that the growling was coming from whoever was currently on top of him. Jaskier tried to stay calm. He took calm breaths and opened his eyes to see Geralt. Laying his head on Jaskier’s chest. Asleep. His entire body shook with the deep rolling rumbles. Jaskier’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Why? Jaskier looked over at Eskel who now had Lambert’s tail in his mouth, I have to buy so many binkies, and Lambert who had the string of his hoodie in his mouth. So.many.binkies. 

Jaskier waited and just felt the thunderingly strong growling. He leaned to see Geralt’s face and Geralt was drooling on Jaskier’s cotton sleepshirt and looked dead asleep. Jaskier reached and placed his hand on the cub’s mid back. The growling continued even as he snuffled deeper into his chest and wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s back, effectively lifting his shoulders up off the bed.  

Jaskier wondered what he was dreaming about to make him so… rumbly. Jaskier rubbed Geralt’s back, up and down. Jaskier doesn’t go back to sleep. 

It’s like sleeping with a thunderstorm… At least he smells nice. 

8:30 a.m.- “Daddyyyyy, Daddy, Daddy,Daddy,Daddy,Daddy,Daddyyyyyy~” Jaskier was being smothered. Someone was trying to kill him. He had a billion pounds of something on him and something on his face and he was being killed. This is it. The end. 

“DADDY! HUNGRY!” Oh. Not a murder. Hungry witchers. Not as bad.  

“Can I be not suffocated?” Jaskier asked and shoved whatever was on his face off. It was apparently a pillow Lambert threw over onto him. Jaskier sat up in his very rumfled bed and looked around. Lambert was in a corner not looking right and the other two were gone. 

Thank Lords for PetLock safety covers…  Jaskier thought. He had installed covers on all the oven dials and buttons and toaster pop up thing and everything that got hot or sharp. 

Jaskier got up and walked over to Lambert. Lambert was just staring at the wall with his chin on his knees. He was still wearing his big hoodie and his green unders. Jaskier crouched down a few feet away beside the baby. Automatically Lambert hunched up and bared his teeth. Jaskier backed off another few feet till he was a good six feet away. Lambert closed his mouth and pulled himself closer together and shook. 

“Hi Lambert” Is all Jaskier said and sat on his butt where he was. Lambert ducked his head so his forehead rested on his knees and didn’t say anything. He was trembling though, he had sweat on his forehead. PTSD… Okay. Breathe. Patience.

“Do you think you want breakfast?” Jaskier asked in a high gentle voice. Lambert glanced over at him for a moment but did nothing else. 

“Did you have a bad dream?” Jaskier asked and watched Lambert look at him and study him. Jaskier tried to look very relaxed and nonthreatening. Lambert looked at him for a long while before moving his head left to right slowly.

“Okay. Did you have a bad memory? Or flashback?” Jaskier asked and didn't move from his place on his floor. Lambert looked at him for only a little bit shorter time before nodding slowly. 

“Do you need or want anything? A blanket or a soft toy? A bottle of water, maybe?” Jaskier offered while looking into Lambert’s eyes. Lambert looked back but then looked at Jaskier’s bare feet. 

“daddy? are you scared of me?” Lambert said in a voice low enough Jaskier could barely make it out. Jaskier looked at him for a second before answering. 

“No. I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of you because I know that if you ever bit me or hurt me, it would mean I was doing something wrong. So I’m not scared because I’ll make sure I do my very best taking care of you right so you never feel like you need to hurt me.” Jaskier answered with his whole heart. It was true. Lambert could tell it was true. 

Lambert relaxed a bit and pushed his legs over so he sat facing his daddy. Lambert looked tiny. Tiny fragile little thing that needed to be wrapped up in newspaper and bubble wrap. Jaskier stayed in his spot. 

“Bubbas are gonna destroy your kitchen.” Lambert stated and looked at the door. The two older ones had yelled as they left to go scavenge. Jaskier shrugged and stood up. 

“That’s alright. They can’t get into the knife drawer or the oven. Now how about we get you dressed and ready for the day and then go handle those other two silly boys?” Jaskier said and watched the baby for a moment. He seemed… unsure. Conflicted between either staying where he was or going with the man, going with his daddy. 

“Can I wear jeans? I like jeans…” Lambert asked as he looked up at Jaskier. Jaskier smiled and said “Button or zip?”. 

Lambert happily got up and took Jaskier’s hand as the man led them both to Lambert’s room. Jaskier collected the clothes while Lambert sat on the bed. Jaskier got him a pair of plain blue jeans that might be a bit long but he could just cuff them, a pair of underwear, and a thin dark green t-shirt. The weather was turning warm and he didn’t want the babe to overheat. 

“Okay I’ll be down in the kitchen. If you need help with the button or zip, Just come down and I’ll do them up for you! Love you Lammy.” Jaskier said as he left the room and shut the door behind him. Jaskier looked down at himself. Pajamas. Ugh. 

Jaskier walked back to his room and pulled on a pair of blue short shorts, a pink tank top, and a blue floral button down that stayed unbuttoned. He ran a brush through his hair and popped a pair of plain white ankle socks on his feet. 

Jaskier was half way down the stairs when the youngest started the stairs. Jaskier made his way to the kitchen and gasped. Why. Why is there? Why is he? Oh good gods.

There were two very… sticky… looking witchers sitting on the floor. Geralt, still clad in his birthday suit, had a handful of something and a can of… 

“Geralt, darling, baby, my precious morning sunlight, my in gods’ names are you eating condensed milk with carrots?” Jaskier asked as he came up beside the white wolf. Geralt smiled brightly, he radiated happiness, and answered. 

“It’s good! Smelled good and I like carrots and Esky said that this stuff is sweet and so I eated it together! I like it!” Geralt explained as he dipped another unpeeled large carrot into the can of thick creamy liquid. Jaskier hummed and nodded, holding his lips between his teeth. 

“Eskel, love, what are you having for breakfast?” Jaskier said as he walked over to Eskel who was bare except for a pair of underwear. Eskel was smiling, he had… red? Pink? On his face and hands. 

“I ate thems… and something from the freezer.” Eskel said as he pointed to the now empty, except the seeds and stem, container of cherries. Something from the freezer? 

“Eskel what did you eat from the freezer?” Jaskier asked in confusion. Eskel pointed to a- a

“Eskel, did you eat a raw pork chop?” Jaskier asked again. Eskel nodded. 

“I don’t know too much about the whole witcher-y metabolism and diet but um Can- Can you eat raw meat?” Jaskier questioned in a forced calm voice. He was really just panicking. Eskel nodded and Lambert said “We can process meats and out organs just kinda get rid of the harmful calls and bacteria. We don’t really get sick”. 

“Oh. Okay. Alright. Well I hope you enjoyed it but how about next time we all wait for breakfast as a family. We don’t need to eat raw meat, especially not frozen meat. Also, Geralt, we do not eat breakfast until we are dressed in at least underwear. Okay, no eating naked. Um, Geralt darling once you finished eating… that. Go wash up in the bathroom with a soapy washrag, you too Wolfie.” Jaskier says in a tired voice. Eskel and Geralt nodded understandingly. Lambert was swaying on the balls of his feet behind Jaskier. 

“Lambert, what would you like to eat? I’m going to make oatmeal with berries for me. You can have whatever you want.” Jaskier said and guided the youngest to sit on the stools at the counter. Lambert thought for a moment before yawning and saying “something to make me fat. I want bread and peanut butter and cheese and um… pasta and everything else” Lambert finished and smiled at Jaskier. 

This was a test. To see if Jaskier would get mad if they got in the cupboards, ate unhealthily, if they wanted too much, if they wanted to get fat. The witchers were testing him. Jaskier was passing with flying colors so far. 

Jaskier nodded. “Alright, I mean we can have Italian for dinner tonight and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. How about grilled cheese for now? And a nice glass of milk or juice or both?” Jaskier said and Lambert looked shocked. 

“Really? I can actually have that? I can really have that to eat right now? Can I have two? I love grilled cheeses!” Lambert said and his ears picked up and his eyes twinkled. Jaskier smiled and pulled out a couple slices of American cheese and grabbed four pieces of bread from the box. 

Soon all three witchers, dressed in jeans and T-shirts, sat at the counter scarfing down grilled cheese sandwiches and drinking milk and juice. Eskel had plastic cups to hold his, Geralt had cups with spill guards which were snapped on once he accidentally spilled some juice on his sandwich. Jaskier had calmly explained that babies have accidents and that it’s okay. Lambert had eaten three sandwiches and then decided that he was done and said he wanted a bottle of juice and wanted to sit in the sun by the window. 

Jaskier had pulled out a muted green sippy cup and filled it up with apple juice and gave it to the cat. Lambert was happier than could be lying stretched out in the sunshine by the window. Every once in a while he would drink his bottle up to his lips and then set it back in the shadowed area. 

Once everyone was sufficiently fed, including Jaskier who had decided what the hell and had a grilled cheese himself, Jaskier said that it was ‘outside time’ which caused a lot of confusion. 

“What do you want us to do?”

“Where do we go?”

Jaskier shushed them all as he opened the french doors. He took a nice big breath of the still night cooled air and slipped on a pair of flip-flops as he walked out into the sunshine. The dew had fortunately already disappeared so Jaskier plopped down cross legged in the grass in the sunshine. He sighed and opened one of his eyes. The witchers were standing inside the door frame still. 

“Come on then. Do you want me to get the- Oh. My. Gods. I’m stupid!” Jaskier said as he remembered he hadn’t shown them the outside toy box! Jaskier quickly hopped up and got back to the patio. 

“You can come outside. You have to ask but you can almost always come outside. Now come here,I got you so much stuff!” Jaskier said excitedly. The witchers all stepped out onto the cold concrete of the patio. They curiously watched Jaskier walk over to a large green chest/bench. It looked like a huge box with seats on top.

Jaskier lifted the lid up to rest on the side of the house. The boys all gasped at what was inside. There were fetch rings, baseballs, kickballs, yoga mats, and even stuff to play baseball and soccer. Jaskier was gabbering about “I used to play soccer!” and “We could get swings or even a big sand box!”. The witchers weren’t listening though. They were all much too excited and happy to listen. 

“So what do you think? I already ordered some stuff for the pool but it’s imported and custom so it’ll be away before it gets here.” Jaskier said. As soon as that was out of his mouth the three of them wrapped him all up in wonderfully warm arms. 

“We love it!”s and “Thank you , daddy!”s where flowing all around him. Jaskier just laughed and patted backs. 

That’s how the next three days went. Going to sleep in Geralt’s room and migrating to Jaskier’s. All three of them would get up, get dressed, and eat breakfast. They would go to the backyard and stretch and Jaskier showed them how to play soccer and Geralt and Eskel had an affinity for baseball. Lambert got to indulge in his sugar habit, Eskel got to read any book he wanted (Jaskier ordered over a dozen for him), and Geralt got to play fetch for literal hours.  No one came around to bother them, per Jaskier’s request even though his best friend Yennefer was itching to meet the babies,  and nothing bad happened. 

Jaskier adapted to knowing Eskel rubbed himself against things at night so he had to wear underwears, and that he also would eat anything you put in front of him and would get sick if you didn’t give him a limit. He also hates warm concrete and does big hand flaps when he’s having sensory overload. 

Jaskier adapted to knowing that Geralt likes lettuce and doesn’t like very rich foods but will drink an entire gallon of chocolate milk in one day. Geralt likes to rather drink his food than really eat it. Jaskier also adapts to the fact that sometimes Geralt won’t talk, he would still be happy and okay but he just doesn’t wanna open his mouth apparently. He communicates through pointing and hand signals quite well though so Jaskier catches on pretty easily. Jaskier also figures that when Geralt kinda floats off in his own head and doesn't move for minutes on end he gets… upset with himself. Jaskier’s not sure why but he won’t ask. Not yet. 

Jaskier also adapts to knowing that Lambert hates being touched near his lower back or thighs and that he doesn’t like seeing too much skin all at once. He’s pretty used to seeing Geralt in the nude but he doesn’t like when Eskel or Daddy’s too… unclothed also. Lambert doesn’t like hearing certain words or being called certain things. And Jaskier gets used to Lambert letting him know that he needs to back off by bearing his teeth or hissing. 

By the end of the three days Jaskier is happy in their routine. He got used to getting dressed and brushing his teeth alongside the other three. He got used to being crammed in his queen bed ( Please gods, I ordered that big ass bed days ago!) Jaskier and the pups were all falling smoothly into a trusting and loving relationship. 

<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->

[okruchlodu]

Two weeks since their reunion had passed, and she found herself embodying the impatience that she felt in something of an insatiable itch; a feral, wild animal caged somewhere deep inside of her, scratching to get out. All seemed to be well - for now; Ciri was safe and unhurt, away from every thing that meant her harm; Geralt was here, with them, and the likelihood that she could steal the witcher away for this, if only for a short time, appeared doable. She shelved what guilt she felt if only for Ciri's sake. Too soon, one might have said was it for her to set out on this adventure, and yet the enchantress would not take any chances— not if it meant doing everything within her power to keep her daughter of Chaos safe and alive. She preferred to harness what power she could, now, before what most she feared once more came calling for them… And even though she deigned neither think nor speak of it —she was not foolish enough to truly allow herself believe the peace would last; there was just too many enemies hot on their trail; half of the Continent had been hunting them down for such long a time now, Yennefer felt as though they had not stopped running for years, now; there was still too much at stake, too many battles to be fought, obstacles to overcome. And even though, here, sheltered away on the edge of the world where naught but wolves & witchers dwelt, felt safe, Yennefer would not risk it.

Last night, the sorceress, after demanding the Witcher meet her here come the morn, proclaiming him the very best of trackers and herself in dire need of his skills, had then went on to pack a basket full of elixirs and potions ( meant to aid the Witcher track the creature she was after ) for their travels. The place of power she wanted to take Geralt was a few miles east, so they would be traveling on horseback; she was still recovering from the floods of dimeritium Vilgefortz had flown into her bloodstream and the atrocious abuses inflicted upon her, and the fact this Witcher of hers absolutely detested portals had not somehow escaped her memory.

Standing in the stable area, now, swathed in a sable black cloak and with her violet eyes blazing like a river of purple mist in the sunlight, Yennefer pressed her palm to a restless mare’s flank, soothing her, ❝  a' caelme tedd…❞  she whispered the incarnation in Elder, tiny flickers of magic spilling from her fingertips in wisps of lilac light as she soothed the animal; she moved next to Geralt's horse, readying it, too, for their travels. ❝  easy, Roach… He won’t be too long now…❞  she uses her magic to conjure up a treat for the mount, delicately offering it up as she awaits his arrival, ❝  if he values certain parts of his body, that is… and what shall we name this one, hm? ❞ she indicates the mare she intends to ride herself, gloved hand still caressing Roach's mane. GODS, was she now, too, talking to horses? Perhaps surviving capture by Vilgefortz had left her short of a marble, after all!

@taleswritten

[blackberrywars]

For the fic writers game. 🍑 And 🫐 of course 🤣

AHHH thank you so much for playing dear! I'm sorry it took so long but @halehathnofury, here it is! My most beloved Opinions

🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?

Well, I think you and I both know that it's Lambert. And this question makes it difficult because I really can't think of another character quite like him, especially a male one —someone so deeply hurt but still expressive, who wants better but has given up hope on it, simply resigned to clinging to what he knows. He's loud and angry, but he makes it very obvious that it is from a place of grief. He finds loves, but is always waiting to lose them. It's an archetype I've usually only seen in older characters (which......... Vesemir parallels, anyone?).

That being said. "Pretentious" literary reference.

Frankenstein's monster. Born on a able, brought forth by a magician who was so desperate to see if he could, he never stopped to wonder if he should. He's made of a dozen different parts, but none of them matter anymore, except for the fact that they matter the most —they make him human, make him long for all the things humans long for. A family, a lover, kindness. Good meals and warmth. But his rebirth, no matter the parts (the history) that make him human, has made him a monster in everyone's eyes. Lambert may not have murdered his makers, but then again, they were dead pretty soon. If he hadn't had the better influences of his mother and the Wolves... who knows what he'd do.

Additionally, because it's a favorite of mine:

Mad Max from Fury Road. Is part of this inspired by the similarity between Tom Hardy's and Lambert's luscious, smoochy lips? Yes, of course. But also, it once again brings up the theme of having his humanity eviscerated by his environment and the people around him, and, even when he does find some solace, still resigning himself to his reality. Spoilers for the movie, I guess, but Max is pretty goddamn feral for most of the movie, and everyone around him dehumanizes him, to the point of him being turned into a human blood bag. He snaps at everything, because everything has been a threat. Furiosa and the Wives eventually ally with him, and show kindness. He returns it, but at the end, he still moves on. Rebuilding Citadel life isn't for Max, the way Geralt's Corvo Bianco life isn't for Lambert. It will take something else.

🫐 What’s your favorite underrated thing in your fandom? (A ship that only you seem to write for, a character there’s almost no fics about, a trope that criminally hasn’t been written yet, etc.)

In a general sense? The School of the Bear. I swear, it's not even me just being horny on main for large, hairy men, but the logistics of Arnaghad's philosophy really have so much potential. I've written a little about this before, but mostly in references. Essentially, yes, Arnaghad is poisoned by hyper-independence, but considering what reliance on kings/mages got the other schools, he kind of has a point. And if he didn't realize that, or care about witchers' lives, he wouldn't have founded a school about it. He would have just fucked off. He truly believes his method is the best way to keep witchers alive, even if he probably killed the most trainees on the way.

It's a really fucked-up, cruel kind of care that Arnaghad has.

By contrast, I feel like a lot of the fics about the Bears either take the minimal lore we have at face value or soften it to a considerable degree, and I enjoy both approaches. They make sense, especially when writing angst or fluff/smut, respectively. The latter is especially combined with a kind of post-sacking era, which makes sense; it's a bit like most Kaer Morhen fics, where the focus is on the members after the school itself has fallen, rather than when it was actually running. And believe you me, I adore those fics, especially the ones by @round--robin with the wonderful OCs. They are delightful. But something I would also love to see is some writing on Haern Caduch while it was still in operation. My heart hurts just thinking about it.

[rauchendesgnu]

wips!

  Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless  of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with  the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it  or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have  WIPs.

Tagged by @echo-bleu (thanks!)

They’re all The Witcher, so here we go:

Brían & Eredin D/s wip (part two) - what it says on the tin

Brían & Eredin D/s wip (part three) - balor finds out (not yet written, but does have its own document xD)

Geraskier Smol Geralt kidfic - teenage Geralt

Slavery Noble AU - including fake historical texts written by the Sandpiper

For A Drop Of Blood - Mountain fix it with vampires

Of Cats And Wolves - witcher!Jaskier

Forced/Arranged Marriage Fae Geralt - feral fae king tries his best not to scare good-looking human twink

Pretty Woman AU - does have prostitution out of desperation

Victorian Writer AU - homophobic society forces two lovers apart

Wrath And Sunrise Geraskier - enemies to lovers, royal AU

A Blessing For The Damned - vampire au

mute!Jaskier - ... Jaskier is mute xD (not yet written, but does have its own document)

assassin!Jaskier - ... Jaskier’s parents are absolutely horrible

Das Duell (Schandmaul) - duel between father and son

Technically, there’s another story that I started, it’s not on this device tho, and then there’s a couple more ideas that are little more than a snippet, and one that I am literally starting right now xD

Those I call:

The Man Who Ruled The World - Warlord AU, aka The Huge Monster Fic (have to find the stuff I’ve already written for that and import it into my document)

Geraskier D/s - Jaskier takes care of Geralt because Geralt can’t, also modern AU

I tag: @al-in-my-head @ialwayscomewhenyoucall @xianvar @starrschaos @flightsfancy1 @themanta @kuwdora @nasayra (sorry for not tagging more ... xD)

[longing-and-heartache-and-lust]

And just to clear up any possible misunderstanding before they happen:

I care about the Witcher more than I can ever say, and that includes the show. I went through all the stages of grief when the recast was announced, and have now reached the acceptance stage, so it is safe to say that I will be watching the new season with as much enthusiasm as one can have, all things considered.

I am still actively writing my silly little stories (take a look at my pinned post for my game!Geralt/show!Jaskier WIP), and I am consuming all the content I can find like a feral animal, seeking out new fics/art in every hidden corner of this website. I’m not entirely sure if I’ll be reblogging anything with Liam’s Geralt once the season comes out, because I don’t know how I will feel about it until I’ve seen it, but time will eventually tell. That is all to say, Liam has my full respect, and I wish him nothing but good things, especially considering how many “fans” have proven to be fucked in the head, throwing around disgusting words and even threats.

But I cannot pretend like the fandom has not been pretty much died since the recast. I’ve been here from the very beginning, and I remember the days of golden glory, so it hurts even more to see less and less content, not to mention the absolute wasteland that mine (and many other blog’s) statistics have become. Creating for a dead fandom is incredibly discouraging, and while I know what we should all create for our own enjoyment, validation from others is still an essential part of having a blog in the first place. If it was just for me, it would’ve been a diary.

So please don’t forget to support the creators that you like, and create content yourself, in any way you see fit, because once a story is out there, keeping it alive is the hands of the fandom, and of no one else.

[bambirex]

The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good: Chapter 15

Pairings: Geraskefer, Yennskier, Geraskier, Yenralt

Characters: Jaskier, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt of Rivia, Ciri of Cintra, Lambert, original male characters, Rience, Yarpen Zigrin

Additional tags: implied/referenced abuse, forced pregnancy, mpreg, creature fic, fae Jaskier, creature Jaskier, creature Yennefer, captivity, enemies to friends to lovers, polyamory, found family, hurt/comfort, it starts out angsty but it will get better, completely made-up lore, fertility issues, completely made-up skills and powers, angst, angst with a happy ending, whump, Jaskier whump, Yennefer whump, Geralt whump, Ciri whump, blood, nightmares, injury, wound care, past rape/non-con, trauma, sexually inexperienced Yennefer, sexually inexperienced Jaskier, threesome- f/m/m, mild sexual content, violence

Rating: mature

Chapters: 15/20

Full word count: 46,898 words

Chapter word count: 3,452 words

Summary: Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Chapter summary: Geralt sends Ciri, Jaskier and Yennefer away with an old friend to find a temporary safe place while he looks into the lurking threats. On the way, they run into a terrible surprise.

Author's notes: After about 5 chapters of found family sweetness, love confessions and bonding, it was time I grabbed everyone and sat you back on the angst train. I need to make things worse before they can be better again!

Read on Ao3

*

Geralt's chest felt heavy as he helped Jaskier, Yennefer and Ciri pack up. It became evident that his safe haven wasn't as safe as it used to be, anymore: Lambert informed him that the dwarves who helped Geralt keep an eye out for anything dangerous in the woods have seen soldiers lurking way too close to the forest around the hut. Ciri's vision also worried him. Maybe it meant that whoever wanted to get their hands on his daughter was coming closer and closer. Ciri was not safe anymore there, neither of them were. Geralt had gone through the possibility of moving somewhere else with Lambert before, but then he decided moving right then would've drawn attention to them. Now, they needed to act quick before Ciri's whereabouts were discovered.

"Where exactly are we going?" Ciri asked him, her eyes terrified. Geralt placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Yarpen can hide you for a bit. We can buy some time before we can head to Kaer Morhen."

"Who's Yarpen?" Yennefer asked. She was pale, her hands shaking badly. Geralt has never seen her so scared.

"An old friend of mine. He has a group of mercenary dwarves out in the woods. He's been helping me from afar. It's okay, you can trust him."

Geralt decided to send Jaskier and Yennefer away with Ciri. He needed his entire family safe. It shattered his heart to think they would be away from him for a while, but that was the safest option they had. Lambert had to go do his own thing, and Yarpen was the second best man Geralt would trust with his loved ones. A dwarf wagon would probably draw less attention than a feral witcher, anyway.

He would stay behind to keep the soldiers at bay. Luckily, he could get rid of them before they managed to track down Ciri and the rest of his family.

"You'll join us soon, right?" Jaskier asked. He peered up at Geralt with worried eyes. "We don't want you to get hurt..."

"I'll be okay. Look, Yarpen is here."

Geralt went ahead to greet him. Yarpen jumped off the wagon, patting the flank of his horse before he shook Geralt's hand. He looked at the rest of them, his eyes narrowing when he saw Jaskier.

"Oi," he drawled, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Not gonna go into labor in my wagon, are ye?"

"Still have some time to go, what a polite greeting," Jaskier scoffed. Yarpen held his hands up.

"Aight, but if you do, don't expect me to help. I'll get you folks to a safe place but I'm not putting my hands between no fae's legs."

"You better not," Geralt told him pointedly. Yarpen chuckled.

"Yeah, that's your job, clearly. Are you fucking the drepima, too?"

"Yarpen!"

"Sorry, mate," Yarpen said, his voice softening. "Just trying to lighten the mood, alright?"

He reached out and gently patted Ciri's shoulder, offering her the warmest smile he could muster. Ciri smiled back weakly.

"Don't worry, girl. I won't let nothing happen to ye and yer friends."

"My family," Ciri corrected him softly. Geralt smiled at her proudly.

He turned to Yennefer who stared at the wagon in distrust. He took her hand into his gently. Yennefer immediately laced their fingers together, seeking comfort.

"It's gonna be okay," Geralt told her, "we'll get through this together."

"But you're staying behind," Yennefer reminded him with a sigh. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It's what we have to do now. You need to gain some leverage over the soldiers. I'll take care of them."

He let go of Yennefer to pull Ciri into a hug. She buried her face in his chest, her arms tight around Geralt, desperately clinging to him.

"Promise me you won't get hurt," she whispered, her voice muffled with tears. "And that we won't get hurt either."

"I promise. We'll be back together in no time."

He pulled back to kiss Ciri on the forehead. He cupped her cheeks and gently wiped her tears off.

"Jaskier and Yennefer will keep you safe. And you will keep them safe in exchange. I believe in you, Ciri."

He turned back to Yennefer to kiss her on the lips, then kissed Jaskier. The fae made a soft whimper against his mouth.

"I really wanna believe you," Jaskier whispered through his tears, "that everything will be okay, but I'm scared."

"We all are," Geralt admitted. "But we need to take this step if we wanna get through this."

He went to his knees and kissed Jaskier's belly. He smiled when he felt a little kick.

He steeled himself as he watched Yennefer enter the wagon. She sent him one last, weak smile before she helped Jaskier up. Jaskier peered out the little window, his eyes full of tears as he looked at Geralt. Ciri was the last who climbed up. She lingered in the opening of the wagon. Geralt sent her a smile that he hoped was encouraging. Ciri returned it weakly.

Geralt only allowed himself to cry once the wagon was out of his sight and he was sure his family didn't see him. He was just as terrified and uncertain as them, but he needed to be strong for them - he needed to make sure no one he loved would get hurt.

--

The wagon was not very comfortable, and Yarpen's whistling was very off-key. The other two dwarves that traveled with them kept discussing something in their own language which Ciri didn't understand a word of. The whole situation did not help her nerves, even though she knew this truly was their best chance.

If that man from her visions was looking for her, then it was smarter to disappear from the map a little bit. The last thing she wanted was to put her family in danger. Her entire existence was the reason Cintra fell. She couldn't afford to lose any more people close to her because of her heritage.

She could only hope that Geralt would be alright, that he would manage to hold up that group of soldiers the dwarves saw, and that he would soon join them. Ciri didn't like the idea of her family missing any members.

Jaskier sang to her on the road, calming her nerves with his voice. It worked for a couple of hours, lulled her to a somewhat peaceful sleep right in Yennefer's lap before she woke again, nerves wrecking.

A whole day has passed on the road, and nothing happened. On one hand, it could have meant everything would be okay and they would reach their destination without a hitch, but Ciri also knew that often it was the most quiet before a storm.

They were well into the evening, the darkness descending down on them slowly, when Yennefer made a horrified sound. Ciri jumped. She followed Yennefer's eyes that stared out of the window of the cart, wide and terrified. Jaskier mumbled something under his nose, his voice stifled by the hand he had pressed over his mouth.

"What's wrong?" Ciri asked, scooting closer to them on the seat. Jaskier didn't reply, but Ciri noticed his breathing got quicker until he nearly hyperventilated. Ciri placed a hand on his back, trying to soothe him. Panic rose inside her own chest seeing him in such a state.

Yennefer practically leapt forward to knock on the wall of the driver's area. Yarpen turned back and opened the little window, confused.

"What are we doing here," Yennefer hissed. Her eyes turned from scared to murderous. "Why did you bring us here!?"

"Here? Where here? This is the area we need to get through to get to where we want!"

"There has to be another path!"

Ciri felt more and more at unease. Yennefer sounded about as mad as she did when she discovered Ciri lived with a witcher, back in the day, if not madder. Yarpen tried to explain to her that they couldn't find another path, but Yennefer wouldn't listen to him. She kept growling at him, her hands shaking with anger. Jaskier still breathed too quickly next to her.

"What is going on? Someone tell me, please!" Ciri pleaded. Her heart pounded like a hammer inside her chest.

"This... this is the place..." Jaskier whispered, his voice shaking badly. "The place where we... please, can we hurry up!?"

His voice went hysterical in the end. Ciri looked out the window. She saw a big, rich mansion with a metal fence. She let out a gasp as bits of her visions played in front of her eyes- metal bars, her family getting hurt, Geralt too far away. She saw the face of the man again. Cold chills ran down her spine.

"What is this place," she whispered, her entire body shaking. Yennefer finally looked at her.

"That's where we were kept," she told her, voice full of pain, "where we escaped from."

"Shit," Yarpen mumbled, "I didn't know, folks. Don't worry, they can't see inside the cart."

Ciri gripped onto the edge of her seat, trying to swallow her panic. The thought that the place her loved ones had to go through so much pain at was so close seized her heart. She didn't know what it meant that she's seen this place in her dreams, but she knew they needed to get away as quick as possible.

"Yarpen, we need to hurry!" She yelled. She reached for Jaskier and Yennefer's hands, both for their comfort and their own.

Yarpen opened his mouth to reply something, but he didn't get to finish his sentence as something knocked into the wagon hard enough to shake the entire thing. The horse neighed and bucked in distress, yanking the reins out of Yarpen's hands and running away into the night. Yarpen yelled after it, but the horse already disappeared in the darkness.

"What the fuck was that," Jaskier whispered. He clutched a protective hand over his belly as he tried to peer out the window. "What... Melitele!"

Ciri stifled a scream as she saw something grab one of Yarpen's dwarf friends and tear his head off in one quick movement. Yarpen yelled and jumped at whatever it was, but he was quickly thrown away.

"Stay in the wagon!" Yennefer ordered. Before Jaskier or Ciri could stop her, she jumped out.

"I have to help her!" Ciri yelled. Jaskier grabbed her arm, his eyes wide in panic.

"Ciri, no!"

Ciri shook off his arm and followed Yennefer. She unsheathed her sword. It was lucky she decided to take it with her, as she wasn't sure she would be able to control her powers enough to defend herself.

Her heart rattled inside her chest as she slowly walked around the wagon. She tried not to look at Yarpen's decapitated friend. She stepped on something. When she looked down, she saw the other dwarf, blood steadily oozing from the gash in his neck. His eyes were vacant, with no more life in them. Ciri swore under her breath.

Ciri needed some time to adjust her eyes to the dark, but she noticed Yennefer helping Yarpen sit up against a rock. He was alive, luckily, but his head wound looked terrible. He was unconscious.

"Yennefer, where did that thing go?"

Yennefer looked up at her voice.

"Ciri!" She hissed, "get back in the wagon! You're not safe out here!"

"Where did it go," Ciri repeated, ignoring what Yennefer said. "What the fuck was it!?"

"I don't know."

Yennefer rushed over to Ciri's side. She looked around, searching for whatever attacked them in the dark.

Ciri turned the other way to check their surroundings herself. The blood froze in her veins as she stared into the face of something - she wouldn't have called it a someone.

It looked vaguely human, with half of its face appearing the face of a man. The other side looked like it was burnt off, revealing his flesh, his eye on that side completely black. His mouth curled into a terrifying smirk, revealing sharp teeth.

Before Ciri had the chance to lift her sword, the creature knocked her down. He tore up her arm with sharp claws, making her yelp in pain.

Yennefer jumped into action, sending a burst of flame towards the thing. Instead of screaming in agony or jumping away, the creature opened its mouth and breathed fire towards Yennefer, fighting her back with the exact same weapon. Yennefer only managed to duck away in time before he burnt her face off.

The creature took advantage of Yennefer having her head down and grabbed her, throwing her out of the way. He stepped over Ciri and marched straight towards the wagon, where Jaskier was.

Ciri gasped and quickly jumped to her feet, rushing after him. He was too quick. He tore the door off and threw it away, crawling inside before Ciri managed to stop him.

Jaskier screamed and kicked out at him, but the creature didn't budge. It continued grinning as he sniffed the air, drool and blood dripping from his jaw.

"Pretty," he snarled as he sniffed at Jaskier's neck. The synella kicked at him again, trying to push him off, to no avail.

Ciri swung her sword through the air. She managed to cut the creature across his back. He let out a scream as he turned around and grabbed Ciri's sword. Ciri struggled to wrangle it out of his grasp, but he was too strong. The creature twisted the sword out of her hand and threw it away, rendering her defenseless.

Before he could open his mouth and breathe fire into her face, Yennefer flung herself out of the darkness and tackled him to the ground. The creature bit her hand, causing her blood to pour out. Yennefer took advantage of it and held her injured hand over his head. Her blood dripped into his face. The acidic poison burnt his exposed flesh, making him scream in agony.

Jaskier got out of the wagon and wrapped his arms around Ciri, trying to pull her away. The creature continued to wrestle with Yennefer, and he managed to throw her off. He stood back up, once again revealing his teeth.

He was terrifyingly strong. Ciri knew that Yennefer would have been able to defeat anyone with her powers, but this thing was too quick, too resilient. He always seemed to be one step ahead, already attacking before Yennefer could use her chaos.

Jaskier grabbed a stone and threw it at his head to try and distract him from hurting Yennefer again. The creature growled and moved towards Jaskier. Jaskier shoved Ciri away so she wouldn't get caught up in the attack.

The next few minutes were a blur. The creature knocked Jaskier down on the ground, hand gripping at his chest to keep him down. Jaskier fumbled with his hand on the grass. It started growing under the fae's touch, but the creature tore it away before the plants could twist around his neck. Whatever that thing was, it seemed almost impossible to defeat him.

Ciri crawled around in the grass, trying to find her sword. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Yennefer weakly stand from the ground. She was bruised and bloody all over, but her eyes were flaming when she noticed the creature was pinning Jaskier down.

Ciri couldn't find her sword. She swore under her breath as she stumbled through the mud on all fours, blind and desperate. The only thing she could think of was that she couldn't lose her family.

Yennefer and the creature fought each other again. Their fire scorched the grass as they shot at each other, Yennefer through her fingertips and the creature from its mouth. The flowers died where Yennefer's blood dripped, and crushed beneath both their legs as they did their deadly dance around each other.

Jaskier had trouble getting up from the ground, weighed down by his own stomach and an injury to his leg. The creature must have wounded him when he pinned him down.

Yarpen was still unconscious. Ciri wasn't completely sure he would even survive with that head wound. They were all running out of time, fighting an impossible battle against a mysterious danger.

The second Ciri finally found her sword, the weapon was kicked away again. She looked up and saw a couple men above her. One of them reached down and grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt.

She flailed around in their grasp, but they held her tight. She saw other men jump onto Yennefer, taking advantage of the fact she was too occupied with fighting the creature. They tackled her down and wrangled something around her neck, something that looked suspiciously like a collar. Ciri suddenly remembered the horrific stories Yennefer and Jaskier told her about the power suppressing collars. She realized Yennefer would be too disadvantaged now- and she was already weakened after the blows she suffered from the other creature.

Ciri watched in horror as Jaskier was also grabbed and collared. The strange creature looked battered, but its ugly snarl had a smug edge as he watched his fellow creatures getting captured.

"My, my," Ciri heard a voice, "we meet again."

It was a middle-aged man with hard eyes and a smug smirk. He stepped to Yennefer and hooked a finger under her chin. He lifted her face and tutted. Yennefer growled, but she couldn't do much with the collar dampening her skills, and her body so weakened.

"Not so feisty now, are we?"

The man grabbed a piece of Yennefer's hair and tore it out, causing her to hiss. He put it in his pocket with a chuckle.

"Where have you been wandering, you monster?"

His eyes fell to Jaskier who trembled in the men's grasp. His eyes were thunderous, though, when the man approached him.

"Long time no see, Treasure," he said. Ciri's eyes widened as she heard the nickname Jaskier has mentioned before. It was their old master, the terrible man they thought they would never have to see again.

"I see you two met my new friend, Rience. He's one of a kind, isn't he? He's a driatingex. Very famous for their speed and incredible senses, especially their sense of smell. They're trained specifically to sniff out whatever their owner asks them to. He hasn't exactly had luck tracking you down, Melitele knows where the fuck you disappeared to, but it seems like luck is finally on my side."

He shook his head at his former creatures.

"It was high time you returned to me."

"Leave them alone!"

The yell ripped out of Ciri, loud and angry. She trembled with sheer frustration in the men's grasps. Master blinked at her in surprise.

"And what is a child doing out here with my creatures? Isn't it past your bedtime?"

He laughed, and said something to his men that Ciri didn't hear. Her ears rang as her anger rose and rose. She felt her chaos fizzle under her skin as she watched her weakened, terrified family. She couldn't let them go back again, she couldn't let them be hurt again.

She closed her eyes and sought out the power within her like Yennefer taught her- and she let out a scream.

To her biggest horror, it didn't do a whole lot. Her chaos did come through, but not hard enough. The men around her stumbled, the surge of energy pushing them aside. It caused even Yennefer and Jaskier to lose their balance for a bit. Master also fell back on the ground. It was enough for a bit of distraction, but not enough to cause actual damage. Still, Ciri had to make do with what she had if she wanted to save her family.

Ciri leapt forward to try and free Jaskier and Yennefer, but she was caught by Rience and tackled down. His clawed hand was clamped over her mouth to prevent her from screaming again.

The men were back on their feet in an instant, grabbing Jaskier and Yennefer again. Master approached Ciri who was still struggling under Rience. His eyes had a morbid, disgusting glint of fascination in them.

"You are no ordinary child, it seems. What are you?" he whispered as he leant down. Ciri growled, then bit down on Rience's hand as hard as she could muster. The creature let out a yelp and his grip loosened.

Ciri managed to free her head, but before she could try and bring her chaos forward again, she felt a hard hit against the side of her head.

The pain seared up, and then the world went dark.

[icantbelieveitsnotdeviantart]

Harpy Jaskier au

I like creature aus with him, they’re all so creative! But my favorites are when they aren’t creatures that sing.

Juvenile harpy Jaskier (typical in the way of his kind, screechy and flighty and not prone to aggression, social as he is) was caught by a nobleman who wanted to boast the most expensive, exotic songbird around. Unfortunately, he got harpies and sirens mixed up.

Jaskier eventually learns how to sing for his dinner, even develops a passion for it. But he’s humiliated his owner beyond redemption by that point. He’s slated to be the main event for the next recreational ‘foxhunt’ when a Witcher arrives.

(Prologue set before Jaskier and Geralt meet)

I’ve got some ideas about this au, might continue it here or in my other blog idk.

[okruchlodu]

@ruinedbycatastrophe

Despite the harrowing ache in her chest, his words had a rather healing touch that left the sorceress somewhere between thunderstruck and euphoric. Swallowing forcibly, something strange and bitter crowding her throat, she pried her gaze away from the frozen glitter of the stars swathing the dark skies above them, dipping her head to the side and fixing fire-bright, violet eyes upon him, her heart racing. Yennefer looked at the witcher as though witnessing him for the first time, and she was surprised to see the exact same man laying next to her as last night and all days before.  Heavens, how strange it was, to watch the shadows unveil the man behind the wolf. There was Geralt (her Geralt, bright and blazing like a fire in her veins, his smiles, his sweet, hard mouth on hers, his hands around her - safe; warm; her world entire), and then there was the witcher, the feral wolf plighted with strange, dark hungers that she could never satiate —and then there was the marriage of the two. Here, amidst the pyres of the Belleteyn now burnt to embers and ashes, soft in his arms under a sky that promised only grief, only regret once dawn had come to separate them, Yennefer could see each distinction as though they existed in three separate windows for her to view; that dark, strong grief ever hung off his shoulders like a disease that he could not be rid of; the cutting, stabbing pain that he would never quite voice but she could plainly see drowning the fire in his eyes; the harsh, thick shadows that blurred his expression, the sharp line of his mouth, full of its secrets. And then... him, when he was with her, sheltered away from the world, alone with her in the shadows that enveloped the both of them; for one supposedly forged from fire and steel, Yennefer discovered that there was a softness to him that lingered beneath the branded armor of a witcher stripped off emotion.  There was a gentleness, a pillow of vulnerability that invited her warmth in such a sacred gesture, it often took her breath away.  That was who he was—who he had been the entire time.  Though he carried a darkness in his veins that haunted his every step, nothing could ever quite pierce the strong walls of his heart.  She had been foolish to think otherwise, even if only for the moments they had been apart (countless, endless, forever more than those they shared together).  She had been foolish to hate him for it, to tear herself to ribbons with her rage, her fury, her feral, wild anger at him, wishing that he had never forced his way into her life, steering the path that destiny had blazed for her towards some direction that the enchantress had never thought that she would find herself taking.

In spite of this, Yennefer had never once stopped loving him. She never would. He was something to her that no one else could ever be; no matter what destiny and the world around them would throw their way. No matter that him and her, could never quite happen.

❝I know…❞ she whispered, a breathless, pained smile quivering upon narrow, soft lips, pressing her palm to his chest, just over his heart. ❝you have me, Geralt.❞ she expanded the thought reverently, fingers slipping down the length of his chest to find his hand, curling around the roughness of the witcher's knuckles (the callous kisses of war) which she brought to her mouth, too, to mend. ❝you shall always have me.❞ but everything must end and when the morning comes, we must part — this time went unsaid; but the pain flared in her eyes, an uninvited visitor, dark and drowning, a violent shade of purple blazing in her gaze as she exhaled through her nose, felt herself tremble. ❝my witcher...❞ she dragged his knuckles across her lips until she could caress each pad of his fingers with the fealty of her adoration. ❝so full of promise...❞ she laughed, a wet, choked sound, trying not to think about the lie in her words... how they would have to leave one another... How he would never truly be hers.

—but for just then, that firelit, star-drenched night full of pulse; full of life swelling all around them, it was enough; he was hers, and she his world entire, here, between the earth and the moon, the end and the beginning, the two of them, fitting together like the sea to the shore. Yes, they were enough. More than enough; everything to her.

Yennefer sighed sharply, buried her face into the swell of his chest, seeking to feel the slow pulse of his heart against the cold skin of her cheek. She could no longer bear to look at him for fear of what she would see in his eyes (the darkness returning to swallow the light, and some part of hers she's left inside of him, with it). Enough, she breathlessly clutched at him, pressing herself closer as though afraid something would take him from her (and soon, something would.) Enough. This had to be enough...

“ i don’t know what the future holds. all i know is that... i hope you’re in it. “ (for Geralt)

sacred romantic moments // accepting! @okruchlodu

He's hated destiny for so long. Everything in his life since the day he was left on the Witcher's doorstep has been destiny. Its had it's claws in every part of his long, sorry life, ripping and tearing along the way. Geralt has been through so much, seen too much and his mind is so jaded, too cloudy with the what ifs and horrors of war by humans and their greed. But destiny also gave him her. Her long dark curls, her lips, her violet hues. She's crawling into his chest, into his heart. It beats so slow, but even it skips a beat seeing her. "I want you too. Always." He replies, softly. As if it were a prayer to Gods he doesn't believe in. A prayer that Yennefer would stay. That she would never leave. It aches. She will always leave him with an ache until he sees her again.

[abeautifulblog]

so obviously the writing for twn geralt leaves a lot to be desired, but what do you think of henry cavill's acting? i definitely liked him better as geralt in season 1, but i'm not sure if that was because of the less-awful (though still disappointing) writing and costuming or if his acting did actually dip in quality.

I think it did take a dip in S2 (though in hcav's defense, you try emoting around those contact lenses o_o), and I wonder if he had a different acting coach for S1 or something.

There was a surprising amount of nuance in his nonverbal performance in S1 -- standout scenes to me were his feral caginess with Renfri, the part where Foltest is telling him how lucky he is to have no emotions (while the look on Geralt's face says he knows it's not true, and it's painful to have to listen to this, but he also knows how utterly futile it is try to argue), and his early, wary interactions with Yen in the djinn episode.

(I know he got some flak when it came out that he'd unilaterally cut a lot of Geralt's dialogue from S1 (and the showrunners really need to stop letting him call the shots), but in retrospect, after having seen the writing in S2, I wonder if he might have dodged us a bullet.)

That said, he doesn't really have much chemistry with... anybody, or not chemistry that he's bringing to the table anyway. He's compelling with Jaskier in S1, and Jaskier's compelling with Yen in S2, but the secret ingredient there would appear to be Joey. And part of that is due to a failure in hcav's acting -- that his body language is often at opposition to the emotions/relationship that the scene is trying to convey.

An easy hack to show love/interest/affection is to have Character A constantly orienting their body toward Character B. It's what everyone's going nuts over in OFMD, because Taika Waititi's Blackbeard is locked onto Stede like a fuckin' sunflower, and it makes his adoration palpable.

Meanwhile, here's what Destined True Love in TWN looks like:

They are miles apart. Someone's built a fucking pillow barricade down the middle. Geralt, you want to put your sword between you as well, just to be on the safe side?

And even when they roll over to face each other, they still don't touch. They don't reach out to each other. It doesn't seem to even occur to them to do anything but stay on their own sides of the invisible barrier down the center of the bed:

(Her line here is like "Are you bored?" and you can FUCKIN' SEE WHY SHE'S ASKING.)

But yeah, it just kills me that even in this, the scene that is the height of their S1 romance, all the indications of intimacy are just missing. Why aren't they holding each other? Why don't we see them chasing that closeness, that connection? Hands that can't keep from tracing over each other's skin; sleepy kisses nestled into each other's hair? All the thousand soft touches that physical intimacy is made of?

Something more like this:

A world of difference.

And I won't say that's entirely on hcav -- the director should have caught it, and directed them to cuddle instead -- but I daresay if Joey Batey had been doing that scene, he wouldn't have needed to be told to make the physicality match the emotional content.

[youwinglessthing]

hi i’m new here (witcher/jaskier and whatnot) so i was wondering if you had any fic recs 👀 (bonus for whump/hc) !! thanks!!!!

Hi, anon. And welcome to the fandom.

So... fic recs, eh? Considering that I have more than 400 bookmarks saved since the beginning of 2020 this would be easy-peasy... I am normal I promise But I tried to list my fav-fav here. The list turned out to be quite long, so I hid it partially under the cut (hope I haven't messed up with the links).

First, I will recommend some talented authors whose works I really enjoy. Just check their AO3 and I promise you will find some amazing and well-written Jaskier fanfiction.

whisperedstory– author has a lot of amazing angst/whump stories. But my personal fav is This Life That We've Createdseries, if you like found family feels you will enjoy this immensely.

kinneyb – this author has a lot of stories for every flavor – AUs, angst, fluff, humor, whump. Very interesting plots/ideas and solid writing.

didoandis– very beautiful writing. This author’s works have everything that Jaskier whump soul craves.

sospes – one of my favorite authors in the fandom. The Path Not Taken series is my all-time fav Jaskier fics. Also, there are some delicious steamy stories If you are into that.

PenAndInkPrincess– the author writes absolutely spectacular Jaskier and Geralt. Stories contain whump, angst, and a healthy dose of humor. I especially recommend fixing things, one jar at a time series (based on s2). But really check other works you won’t regret it.

And here’s the rest of my fic rec list (mainly geraskier)

Long read:

What Is Meant To Be (Always Finds A Way) by Constant_Crisis, MisterTiberius | Words:134,512 |mature| Oh, this beast of a fic has Jaskier whump, feral and protective Geralt, pining, chapter-based plot.

Kingdoms Come and Kingdoms Go, Rivers Run and Rivers Flow | Words:62,633 |teen| one of the best AUs in my opinion. Very interesting world-building, great side characters.

Cause with You, I'm More than Good Enough by DianaMoon | Words:67,654 |explicit| Jaskier whump of the delicious kind.

Valdo Marx Must Die by Maimat | Words:58,958 |mature| Interesting plot, well-written characters, whump. Love how the author portrays Jaskier in this one.

Shiningby Nemainofthewater | Words:57422 |gen| dragon!Jaskier AU which has angst, humor, found family and adorableness all around.

hear the cannons calling by ghostinthelibrary | Words:56,048 |explicit| Great AU with good characterization and interesting plot (covers Nilfgaard’s invasion and Ciri-finding drama)

One Blessing by Jana_C | Words:36,037 |explicit| non-human Jaskier, found family feels.

The Paths You Take by CosmicOcelot | Words:35,151 |mature| Wonderful found family fic.

Can’t you hear that scratching by SpaceBat (kuraikon) | Words:31,623 |mature| Jaskier acquired a creepy stalker. It goes as well as you can imagine.

Series:

Cats and Witchers, Oh Myseries by james | Words:31,952 |gen/teen| A quirky series of catshifter!Jaskier. If you need a dose of cuteness – this is the thing.

The Greensleeves Saga series by RebrandedBard | Words:36,618 |teen/explicit| this is very yummy geraskier fics

the roads we walk seriesby shellybelle | Words:78,043 |explicit| Wonderful AU of warlord!Geralt type. It has everything – Jaskier whump, great plot, angst, found family… yummy.

of bards and witches and witchers series by WriteThroughTheNight | Words:18,685 |teen| this is an AU where Jaskier is Yennefer’s brother. If you like Jaskier and Yen, this one would be the thing for you.

speak of destiny as if it was fixed series by Hirikka | Words:24,879 |gen| His Dark Materials AU/Fusion. This is an amazing take on that idea and well-written into TWN canon.

Other:

You are too well tangled in my soul by Samtree | Words:26,320 |teen| Another great time-travel fic

Suturesby mrhd | Words:20728 | teen | classical whump story with very graphic medical procedure

The Sevenfold Path by Star_flaming | Words:17,412 |gen| friendship, character study (in regards of Jaskier’s education)

in restless dreams i walked alone (the sound of silence) by august_embers | Words:16136 |teen| this story deals with some heavy mental illness themes

The Time Traveler's Bard by SweetestHoney| Words:15,445 |mature| beautifully written time-travel fic

A Long Walkby Goody | Words:15,546|teen| Jaskier whump and some good Jaskier&Geralt Dynamics

Hollow Chests by TheMadHatterOfficial | Words:14,349 |gen| Absolutely wonderful kid!Jaskier fic

Companionshipby ArliaDevi | Words:14,080 |teen| Another fandom classic. Jaskier and Geralt relationship from Ciri’s perspective.

Forget Me Not by im_fairly_witty | Words:11,731 |teen| well-written soulmate AU that will make you feel all the feels

blue by thanksroach (irnhero) | Words:11,810 |teen| AU with mer!Jaskier. Very cute and adorable.

until the blue ocean turns green by gravitational | Words:12,322 |teen| another great mer!Jaskier AU

starlight; star-crossedby julek | Words:10,396 |teen| Geralt gets jealous of a dog :D

i was burning up a fever (i didn't care much how long i lived) by petersnotkingyet | Words:4,141 |gen| silly and cute fic about Jaskier getting sick and withers’ overreaction

Calm Down? Geralt, You Are Kidnapping Me! by HappyJuicyfruit | Words:4,669| medieval social distancing Geralt style >:)

And Roses Suit You So | Words:8,056 |teen| book!Geralt has some words with twn!Geralt about Jaskier’s treatment

To Your Witchers by katie_elizabeth | Words:8,227 |teen| It was one of the first fics that I’ve read in the fandom. I didn’t even know who Eskel was back then, but I fell in love with him instantly :)

Two WIPs that I follow and hope that authors won’t abandon them

Jaskier, the Boy Witcher by Pineapplemoon | Words:55,290 |teen| I love familial bonding and this fic has it ten folds (Geralt adopts kid!Jaskier, plot woven into twn canon)

Without you, I'm Stronger, I'm no Longer filled with Wonder by Jassy | Words:81,739 |explicit| Eskel/Jaskier amazingness. Also, Jaskier as a proper count and guardian of 4 kids.