#jaskel endgame

[wordsablaze]

10/13 - matching tattoos

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: guess who’s back to make yet another mess of yet another trope ?? @alllthequeenshorses :)

previous chapter

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It takes Jaskier an absurdly long time to notice the little red flames on his foot.

He was an infant and he was playing in the gardens and because he sought adventure, he lost his shoes. And yet, the woman who was assigned to clean him up only dumped buckets of water on his head and scrubbed his skin until his ticklish laughter turned into remorseful sniffles, and he was too busy being upset to even think about looking closely at his feet.

He was a child and he was running from his siblings and because he thought he was clever, he threw his shoes down one corridor and ran down the opposite one. And yet, when he reluctantly reunited with the others for dinner only to be sent back to his room because he looked improper, he climbed into his sheets and sulked and didn’t care to look closely at his feet.

He was a student and he was being chased by an angry classmate who thought he’d been cheating and because he was in a rush, he didn’t bother to pick up his boots when he tripped over something and they fell off. And yet, all he could think about was composing something out of spite rather than taking care of his injuries, so he gave himself no time to look closely at his feet.

But then he was almost entirely grown and he was jumping out of windows because otherwise he’d be caught in the wrong bed and he was landing awkwardly, twisting his ankle as he attempted to leave unnoticed.

“What did you do this time?” Shani asks, helping him to a seat as soon as she opens the door and sees his sheepish grin.

“You mean who did he do this time,” Priscilla snorts, but she too takes a moment to look him over and assess how bad things are.

Jaskier laughs brightly. “The woman I overheard Valdo gushing about. Entirely willing as well as worth it, I assure you... she was divine!”

“More importantly,” Shani interrupts, glaring at the two of them, “your ankle isn’t broken. What’s this tattoo, though? You never told us you had one.”

Jaskier frowns. “I don’t have a tattoo. Why would I do such a thing to my lovely skin?”

Shani lightly punches his leg as if to remind him not to sound so arrogant before lifting his foot to inspect it. “This looks like flames,” she says eventually.

Priscilla frowns, shooting Jaskier a confused look before also investigating his alleged tattoo. “Well, she’s not wrong. Are you saying you’ve never tattooed fire on yourself? Because it sure looks like you’ve tattooed fire on yourself.”

Frustrated, Jaskier gently pushes both of them back and squints at the sole of his foot. “What in the hells? Why is it so... alarmingly red? Oh gods, what if she was so divine that she was married to a mage and now they’ve cursed me?”

“To do what, die by the hands of- uh, by the flames of a pyre? No, don’t be daft,” Priscilla scoffs, then frowns thoughtfully. “What if it’s one of those soulmate markers?”

Jaskier shakes his head, holding out his wrist, the one with the ouroborus. “I already have one of those, see?”

“The needle on my shoulder is impossibly blue,” Shani says before biting her lip, knowing that Jaskier has a rather complicated love-hate relationship with the cryptic signs of his supposed soulmate.

Jaskier groans.

“We can just forget about this and get drunk instead?” Priscilla offers, all three of them proceeding to do exactly that.

It’s only years later that Jaskier considers the tattoo again, after twisting his ankle in the exact same way. This time, though, he makes his way back to Geralt, who rolls his eyes but applies a salve anyway.

“Who was it this time?” he asks.

Jaskier, having immediately been thrown back into the past, smirks. “The innkeeper’s son. Worth it, I assure you, he was utterly divine.”

Geralt hums disapprovingly but there’s a hint of a smile pulling at his lips so Jaskier just laughs and kisses that hint until it turns into a proper smile.

“Hey, Geralt? Do you have any red tattoos?” Jaskier asks as the two of them settle for the night.

Geralt snorts behind him. “Is that your most subtle way of asking about my latest scars?”

Jaskier elbows him. “No! I can be far more subtle when I need to be, I was merely asking whether you’d ever gotten any tattoos and if perchance, they happen to be red. Honestly…”

There’s a brief pause, after which Geralt shakes his head, which Jaskier only knows through the way Geralt’s hair brushes against the nape of his neck. “No. I might have had one before… before, but the only thing that sticks on a witcher’s skin is a wound.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes.

Then he scowls and spins so he’s facing Geralt, leaning forward and gently kissing his nose. And his cheek. And his forehead. And his chin. And his other cheek. When he goes to kiss his nose again, Geralt shuffles back a little and frowns, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Love sticks too,” he whispers.

“Not the same way a scar does,” Geralt argues.

Jaskier shakes his head stubbornly. “Scars can fade. It’s only love that stays in the end.”

Geralt sighs. “I don’t know why I bother arguing with poets.”

“Poets? Multiple poets? Oh, my dear witcher, you are going to have to elaborate on all of these poets.” Jaskier smirks, propping himself up on one elbow and resting his chin on his hand.

“No,” Geralt replies, looking a little horrified at the suggestion, “one poet is enough to argue with for me.”

“So you are arguing then?” Jaskier asks, just to be annoying really.

He’s rewarded by Geralt laughing a little before nudging his hand away from his face, which causes him to yelp. Surprisingly though, his head doesn’t hit the ground but rather, falls into Geralt’s hand.

Jaskier exhales audibly. “You are a menace.”

“No more than you,” Geralt says, pulling him close.

“You would get so awfully bored if I wasn’t,” Jaskier mumbles even as he yawns, the day finally catching up to him.

It’s worth it, of course. He would stumble through a thousand - well, he’d prefer if it were only a hundred, really - more twisted ankles if it meant being gifted moments like these and he would remain forever confused about scars and tattoos if it meant proving his point about the right kind of love.

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i am once again imploring you to overlook the handwave-y lore logic and forgive me for making what could have been a cute geraskier scene angsty ^-^

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[wren-of-the-woods]

Fic Recs: Jaskier and the Kaer Morons

Y’all need to stop asking for fic recs because I have over four hundred AO3 bookmarks and no self-restraint.

Anway, @moongoddesskiana asked for fics with Jaskier and the Kaer Morons! The brilliant @penandinkprincess recced the first three, all of which are amazing. Then I attempted to filter through my bookmarks and found the rest! Some have more Jaskier and some have more Kaer Morons, but all have at least some of both. There’s a lot of variety, so hopefully everyone can find something they like!

~

If You Give a Bard a Lute by @ghostinthelibrarywrites (Rated T, 10k, Geraskier)

Jaskier’s father disowns him and takes all his posessions, including his lute. When Geralt finds out, he won’t let it stand, and recruits the other witchers to help them steal the lute back.

If I Must Starve (Let it be in Your Arms) by Igneum807 (Rated M, 31k, Geraskier more or less)

Lambert and Eskel learn how nice it is to be cuddled by a bard. The whole series is absolutely wonderful.

Weak and Wanting by @sociallyawkward--fics (Rated T, 36k, Geraskier)

Geralt invites Jaskier to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Lambert and Eskel decide to play matchmaker.

Chance Met on the Road and How Bold by theimperialbogmonster (Rated T, 1k and 7k respectively, Geraskier)

The two works in a wonderful series. Eskel joins Geralt and Jaskier on the path and manages to knock some sense into them.

How Different Wolves Can Be by SGALOVER  (Rated T, 36k, Gen)

Vesemir rescues Jaskier from a brief capture by Nilfgaard and takes him to Kaer Morhen, and Jaskier becomes part of a big witcher family.

Fresh Air by Slayer_of_Destiny  (Rated T, 10k, Geraskier)

After a difficult fight that required all of the wolves’ help, Geralt takes them back to where Jaskier is waiting. The other witchers are shocked at this human’s easy acceptance of them.

In the kitchen of a keep in the mountains by ArtanisNaanie  (Rated T, 12k, Geraskier)

The various inhabitents of Kaer Morhen as seen through their cooking. The food sections are fascinating and the plot is sweet.

Those songs we sung, those words we flung by persephonesprince (Not Rated, 179k, endgame Geraskier)

Lambert and Eskel adopt Jaskier after the mountain.

Well Met by DahliaVanDare (Rated G, 2k, Gen)

Eskel meets Jaskier after the mountain. Hilarious!

Forest Encounters and Two Witchers Walk Into a Tavern by TheSupernova (T and G, 3k and 2k, Geraskier)

A series in which Jaskier meets Lambert and then Eskel.

The Best Laid Plans by @dhwty-writes (Rated T, 5k, Geraskier)

Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.

Courting The Bard Of Your Dreams In 3 Easy Steps by bulletincookie (Rated T, 10k, Jaskel)

Eskel falls in love with Jaskier at Kaer Morhen. Now he has to court him.

That Unwanted Animal by @softdarlingjaskier (Rated T, 27k WIP, Jaskel)

Jaskier starts traveling with Eskel after the mountain and they go to Kaer Morhen together. I usually avoid incomplete works, but this one is really good!

Slightly Akin to Wonder by StarsInMyDamnEyes (Rated G, 3k, Gen)

Jaskier is a retired witcher who changed his name. The other witchers don’t realize that this bard is the same person. Absolutely hilarious!

The Kaer Morhen Book Club by @jackironsidesfic (Rated T, 10k, Geraskier)

The Kaer Morons have an annual book club in which they read books about witchers. One year, they find a novel in which a witcher is the romantic lead. AKA: Jaskier is a romance novelist and Geralt finds out. I don’t think Jaskier actually meets the other witchers in this one, but it’s so hilarious I couldn’t not rec it!

and the right to call it home by Chancy_Lurking (Rated T, 11k, Geraskier and Lambden)

Lambert doesn’t trust the human that Geralt has brought to the keep. Things escalate. This one is angsty!

Winter Secrets by C4t1l1n4 (Rated G, 0.7k, Geraskier)

Jaskier overhears a conversation he doesn't think he's supposed to. It's not exactly what he's expecting either.

The Courting Ways of Wolves by @pillage-and-lute (Rated T, 12k, Geraskier)

The inhabitents of Kaer Morhen help Geralt develop a plan for courting Jaskier, which he then carries out. This one has more Geraskier than Kaer Morons but it’s so sweet and funny that I had to mention it!

starlight; star-crossed by @julek (Rated T, 10k, Geraskier)

Jaskier adopts the stray dog that’s been hanging around Kaer Morhen. Geralt absolutely isn’t jealous.

I’m also going to take this opportunity to shamelessly self-promote my own ficlet that I wrote because my love for this trope is uncontrollable!

The Wolves and the Bard by ForestWren (Rated T, 0.5k, Gen with vaguely implied Geraskier)

In which Jaskier discovers that he has, quite by accident, acquired a family.

~

That’s it for now! Please feel free to chime in with your own fic recs -- I’m always looking for more things to read! <3

Edit: I have other reclists I forgot to mention! They can be found here and here.

Further edit: There is now a part two to this list!

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Jaskel/Geraskel Fic Masterpost

Series

So You (Don’t) Want to Be a Warlord: 2/3 installments complete. E. Established Eskel/Geralt with eventual Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier. After Geralt leads the six witcher schools on a strike and forms an accidental independent city state at Kaer Morhen, he’s appalled when the king of Redania wants to arrange a marriage between his nephew, Jaskier, and Geralt, especially since Geralt is longtime lovers with Eskel. Also features background Coen/Triss and Aiden/Lambert with eventual Yennefer/Renfri in the third installment.

Downward Goat: 2/2 installments complete. E. Eskel/Jaskier with background Geralt/Yennefer, Yennefer/Triss, Aiden/Lambert, and Renfri/Deidre. When Eskel’s goat farm hits hard times, his employee, Deidre, comes up with a brilliant solution: offering goat yoga. Eskel is skeptical at first, but he’s won over by the charming, blue-eyed yoga instructor, Jaskier, and his collection of colorful leggings.

Multichapter

Wrap your roots all around my bones: 50K words. E. Eskel/Jaskier, featuring witcher!Jaskier and goat farmer!Eskel. When Eskel, a goat farmer living in Velen, puts out a contract for a witcher to deal with the griffin terrorizing his livestock, he’s not expecting Jaskier, a pretty witcher with mismatched eyes who likes to sing. When he takes the contract, Jaskier isn’t expecting the reclusive farmer who hires him to be a kind man who talks to his goats and is willing to let Jaskier stay the night. Neither of them expect the other to become a friend, and maybe something more.

want to bleed your blood (want to be let in): 35K words. E. Eskel/Jaskier with endgame Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier. After years of denying his feelings, Geralt finally works up the nerve to tell Jaskier how he feels, only to find his bard has found a new love— Geralt’s childhood best friend and first love, Eskel.

Those Pages Thumbed: 38K. M. Eskel/Jaskier. When the Kaedweni government decides to send a librarian to digitize the keep’s collection, none of the inhabitants of Kaer Morhen are happy, least of all Eskel, for whom the collection has been a passion project for the last few centuries. He’s not expecting Jaskier, who is endlessly curious, funny, and looks better than anyone should in his collection of colorful cardigans. But Jaskier has a secret, one that might endanger the budding attraction between him and Eskel, as well as everything Eskel cares about.

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames: 29K. E. Eskel/Jaskier. When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas.

for years or for hours: 52K. E. Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier. After Geralt vanishes on a routine hunt, Eskel searches for him in vain, grieves, and moves on. Nearly eight hundred years later, he lives a quiet life as a farmer outside of Oxenfurt and is in a serious relationship with Jaskier, an adorable college professor. But when Geralt wakes from a centuries-long sleep into an entirely new world and Jaskier finds him on the side of the road, the arrival of Eskel's lost love brings with it heartache, peril, and the chance for a new love.

One Shots

I could be the sun that lights your dark: 7K. T. Eskel/Jaskier. After Jaskier is cursed by a vengeful mage to bray like a donkey whenever he tries to speak or sing, the only cure is true love’s kiss. Certain that Jaskier’s true love is Geralt, Eskel races across the Continent to track down his errant brother. But will they find Geralt in time? And more importantly, is Geralt the person really Jaskier needs to kiss?

Two wolves are better than one: 2K. E. Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier. During a long winter in Kaer Morhen, Jaskier learns that Eskel and Geralt are long-time lovers. He’s intrigued and comes up with an idea for how the three of them could spend an evening.

Lil Bleater's Life of Crime: 2K. T. Eskel/Jaskier. Eskel starts bringing Lil Bleater, his most sociable goat, to the farmer’s market to attract people to his stand. It works great, up until she gets loose and wreaks havoc at the middle school music department’s bake sale. Luckily, Jaskier, the pretty music teacher, is sympathetic.

honeysuckle & chamomile: 3K. M. Eskel/Jaskier. The Path takes Eskel and Jaskier to different parts of the Continent far too often. One of Eskel’s shirts always smells like Jaskier, reminding him of home.

Eskel's Song: 4K. T. Eskel/Jaskier. In the fifteen years since Geralt first introduced him to Jaskier, Eskel has learned that the bard can write a song about anything, from ditties about Roach’s eyes to epic ballads about battles. Everything seems to inspire him. Everything but Eskel, that is. Not that that bothers Eskel. Not at all.

A Wall and a Hard Place: 1K. E. Eskel/Jaskier. After Jaskier narrowly escapes a sticky situation, Eskel is furious with his lover for his reckless behavior. They blow off steam in the only way they can while hiding in a narrow alley from some Eternal Fire guards.

Other masterposts:

Main

Geraskier

Yennskier/Geraskefer

Rarepair

[wordsablaze]

9/13 - shared emotions

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: hello again, *draco voice* did someone say mutual stupidity-

previous chapter

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Witchers don’t experience emotions.

Except that they actually do, and sometimes they get two sets of them, the second of which stems from their soulmate. As Jaskier would say, their very loving soulmate who has more than enough feelings to share, don’t you worry.

But Jaskier himself worries quite often because his soulmate rarely feels the same way he did.

He remembers being excited about learning how to write his own name and then being alarmed at the sudden burst of guilt at the back of his mind. He didn’t know it was only the back of his mind, though, so he spent the rest of the day trying to remember what he was supposed to be guilty about.

He remembers being annoyed about having to stay in his room because he was too loud and then being confused by an immense flood of relief. He still hadn’t realised that it wasn’t his own, though, so he spent a very long night wondering if being away from their guests was actually a good thing.

He remembers being upset about the girl who told him his dreams were useless and then being hit with more disappointment than he’d ever felt before. He still wasn’t sure whether that belonged to him, though, so he spent a week writing a ballad to try and figure everything out.

And then he went to Oxenfurt and learnt about the concept of secondary emotions and everything made just a little more sense because of course the slow heartbeat and suspicious lies and strange visions would be paired with shared feelings, of course they would.

He’s more than prepared by the time he saunters over to a witcher in Posada.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he says softly as Geralt returns from a contract with blood practically oozing from his clothes.

Geralt only grunts in reply but Jaskier knows from experience that witchers blame themselves when things go wrong so he just adds some mildly lavender-scented salt to the bath and rolls up his sleeves. It’s not clear to what extent he manages to help but he doesn’t feel any kind of guilt once they settle for the night, his own or otherwise, so he takes it as a win and neither of them mention it again.

“What’s this for?” he asks when Geralt hands him a brand new pot of ink as soon they get back to their room.

Geralt shrugs. “I thought you were sad.”

Jaskier’s not sure when exactly he was sad - he was under the assumption he was having a brilliant day, to be honest - but the fact that Geralt cares enough to try and help warms his heart so he just wraps his arms around the witcher and grins.

“I knew you cared! Thank you, my dear!”

“Don’t waste it this time,” Geralt says, but he’s smiling so Jaskier just beams at him and makes no promises to throw it at someone’s head if the situation once again calls for it.

The situation does call for it a week later when he looks up from his desk to find a dagger held just in front of his neck and the only thing he has nearby is the inkpot, which he smashes at the other man’s head so hard it shatters over him.

Cursing, the man drops his dagger and stumbles backwards into Geralt, who seems to have appeared out of thin air.

“Oh hello, Geralt I was just uh, greeting whoever this is,” Jaskier says happily, wiping the ink from his face where some of it had splashed.

Geralt frowns, glancing between the two of them and throwing the stranger out of their room before looking over Jaskier as if trying to find something. “You don’t look very angry.”

Jaskier blinks. “Should I be? I mean, aside from the fact that I was forced to waste ink on a fool who doesn’t even know how to hold a dagger properly in the middle of composing a very important song? Actually, now that you mention it, I think I am filled with rage.”

“We can find more ink,” Geralt says, shaking his head either in amusement or exasperation, Jaskier can’t really tell. Either way, the matter is resolved simply enough.

Except that it’s not, because Jaskier keeps messing up.

“What are you so happy about?” he asks during a break in his set.

Geralt raises an eyebrow at him as if to ask why in the name of Nenneke he would be happy in a court but Jaskier grins because literally being able to feel his soulmate’s emotions means he knows better than to take Geralt at face value.

“Come on, it’s not that bad! And you have the pleasure of listening to the greatest bard on the continent!”

“I’ve heard you sing these songs for months,” Geralt reminds him.

Jaskier shrugs. “Say what you will, Geralt, but I know you’re secretly pleased with the way things are turning out!”

With a sigh, Geralt glances around. “I guess it could be worse.”

That seems like an understatement; there are very few things that could make the evening better. Jaskier watches Geralt frown for a minute before nodding as if he agrees, inwardly making a note not to project too much of his own emotion in future.

He’s not particularly good at that, as is proven when he does the exact same thing at the next court they play in, only this time the other way around.

“We can leave now, I can tell you want to,” Jaskier whispers as he flops down into the seat opposite Geralt.

“The wine is good here,” Geralt says simply.

Jaskier blinks, wondering how he’s doing such a good job of hiding the irritation Jaskier knows he’s feeling. “As much as I appreciate your stoic patience, you really don’t have to pretend for my sake.”

Geralt snorts in amusement. “Go back to your singing, Jaskier, or whichever guest it is whose bed you’re chasing tonight.”

“I- You- Which what?” Jaskier splutters, almost dropping his lute.

He wants to protest that there’s only bed he’d want to end up in at the end of the night but the knowing look Geralt gives him stops the words before they leave his mouth. A small smirk is all he can manage before he slips through the crowd again, trusting that as his soulmate, Geralt knows him well enough by now and from the looks of it, better than he knows himself.

(little did he know his trust was entirely misplaced.)

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it is really hard not to make geralt seem like an antagonist at this point but i promise he is trying his best and is definitely not to blame for jaskier's mess of a self !!

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[wordsablaze]

11/13 - dreamwalking

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: the penultimate denial... @alllthequeenshorses

previous chapter

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The nightmares start when Jaskier graduates.

At first, he thinks he’s been cursed.

What else is he meant to think when he’s never even seen a leshen and yet he wakes up with tears in his eyes because he was so sure he was about to die at the hands of what looked like an inexplicably angry pile of bones and branches?

He doesn’t tell anyone about it because he’s had enough of feeling foolish and he’s pretty sure anyone he talks to would just accuse him of drinking too much. Instead, he goes to the library and reads as much as he can find about forest creatures, which only really serves to make him afraid of the woods, unfortunately.  

The next time he wakes up after a nightmare, he reaches for his face, almost sure that half of it was at risk of being destroyed for some reason. After checking in a mirror that he’s not about to have a very hard time charming a crowd, he settles back on the bed with a confused sigh.

He gets odd looks from several merchants when he passes through the market and feels the need to check his reflection in anything he can along the way, but he decides the reassurance is worth not being able to go back to that town until they’ve forgotten about his strange behaviour entirely.

Another month later, he wakes up with a silent scream because there was pain in his very blood and his skin was burning and he couldn’t think and it felt like the world was ending, and then he opens his eyes he sees nothing except the room he’s staying in, which he promptly leaves just in case.

But when it happens again, he finds himself walking through a meadow with the warmth of the sun brushing over his skin and delicate flower petals tickling his feet, and everything feels more peaceful than he’d ever thought could be possible, and he decides that he’s not been cursed with nightmares after all.

After a while, he concludes that he’s seeing someone else’s dreams; it becomes a pattern, and he almost finds it fun to guess whether he’ll see something good or something bad. He even takes to writing them down in a separate notebook, just so he can keep track of any information he’s inadvertently given about who he assumes is his soulmate - it’s not like witchers are known to share information freely so he’ll take whatever he can get.

“Geralt? Have you ever heard about, uh, dreams?” he asks eventually, once the pattern is more than familiar to him.

The witcher looks over to him with an amused expression. “Do you not think I know what dreams are, Jaskier?”

Jaskier flushes, then shakes his head. “You know that’s not what I meant. I meant… Well, I mean to ask if you’ve heard of instances where people share them?”

Geralt frowns. “Do you have somewhere you want to be that you think I don’t?”

It takes a moment for Jaskier to realise what he means. He smiles fondly, then shakes his head. “No no, travelling with you is everything I expected when I dreamt of adventure, I assure you. I was referring to the more literal experience, you know, during sleep?”

Unfortunately, Geralt only frowns again. “Bruxae can alter their victims’ dreams and turn them into nightmares.”

Jaskier may not be an expert but he’s almost certain that bruxae would never consider goats or meadows or fresh bread to be the stuff of nightmares so he shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I mean either.”

“I’m not a mind-reader, Jaskier,” Geralt says, only a little bit exasperated.

“Never mind, dear,” Jaskier replies, planting a quick kiss on Geralt’s cheek, “but thank you anyway.”

He doesn’t bring it up again.

He wants to, several times.

When he jolts upright in his bedroll and has to clutch Geralt’s hand to remind himself that he’s not falling; when he gasps himself awake in the middle of the night because he’s hit with a melancholy he couldn’t put into words if he tried; when it takes him far too long to remember he’s not being stared at by a tavern full of people who would rather he didn’t exist.

But also when he opens his eyes to the taste of honey and love and something so sweet that it seems unreal; when he’d rather go back to sleep because there’s a gentle breeze and laughter echoing comfortably around him; when he smile himself awake because he feels warm and useful and wanted without having to hear the words.

And yet, he says nothing.

Frankly, he feels like he’s intruding.

Geralt never talks about his dreams or his nightmares or whatever he sees when he meditates and Jaskier figures it’s just something he’d rather keep to himself. Which is fine, he thinks, there’s no need for the two of them to tell each other every little thing, after all.

Sometimes he wakes in the company of an overnight lover instead of Geralt and sometimes they question whether he’s alright but he just laughs it off and kisses them until they fall asleep again, or sometimes they don’t take his denial as an answer and he lets them run their fingers through his hair and pretends it’s helping, or sometimes they don’t even notice because they’re busy with their own dreams - he doesn’t know if that’s better or worse, really.

And it’s fine.

He never mentions the dreams to Geralt and Geralt never indicates that he sees any of Jaskier’s and if there’s anything he’s learnt about the world over the years, it’s that questioning things is usually a bad idea.

Besides, when he’s forced into waking with a quiet cry and Geralt wordlessly tugs him closer and wraps an arm around him, why would he complain? When he can wake up with a grin and tell Geralt all about the dreams he’s obviously already seen without the witcher pointing out that he already knows what happens next, why would he complain? When he knows that no matter how little they talk about it, they’re both sharing something so personal with one another, why would he complain?

Really, he has nothing to complain about; he’s fine.

(little did he know he was very much not fine.)

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jaskier please, the dots are right there for you to connect-

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[wordsablaze]

12/13 - shared earworms

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: his last misunderstanding, thank the stars... @alllthequeenshorses @eskel-loves-lilbleater

previous chapter

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Oxenfurt is magical.

And no, that isn’t just Jaskier being dramatic, the city truly is far more magical than people give it credit for.

When Jaskier had first arrived, he’d had no idea how some bards could spontaneously burst into a duet with no preparation whatsoever. And he’d had no idea how some students could enter a classroom and start humming the next verse to something another student had started humming several minutes back. For a long time, he’d had no idea how some people could be so in sync with each other.

It hadn’t taken long to work it out.

It wasn’t that every couple in the city somehow happened to be incredibly talented at picking up on body language or anything like that, it was just that they could literally hear each other’s singing. And humming. And composing. And generally most musical thoughts.

“How is everyone doing this?” he’d asked his professor during one lecture or the other.

The professor had laughed and handed him a book from his personal library. “It’s not something that can be learned, boy, it’s magic.”

At that, Jaskier had frowned. “What kind of magic?”

“The oldest kind there is, of course,” his professor had replied, “the magic of destiny.”

Jaskier’s grip on the book had tightened painfully as he’d nodded and politely excused himself back to his room, where he’d thrown the book on his bed and flopped onto the floor with a groan; of course this would be a Destiny thing, just his luck.

The book remained untouched for months.

“The professor must have felt really sorry for you if you have this,” Alfie tells him near the end of the semester, picking up the book that had very quickly moved from the bed to his desk, where it was being used more as a paperweight than anything else.

Jaskier hums. “Why do you say that?”

Alfie raises an eyebrow, chucking the book at Jaskier. “Because everyone knows about soulmates. How don’t you?”

There’s a moment of silence before Jaskier groans inwardly. He’d been avoiding the subject altogether but not having returned the book meant he had to come up with some kind of excuse to get him out of receiving everyone’s pity or judgement.

“I do!” Jaskier argues, “I was merely waiting until I’d finished my ballad on the matter before returning his book.”

“Oh? A secret assignment?” Alfie grins, easily convinced by Jaskier’s lies.

Jaskier nods, glancing between him and the book. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I believe you have your own soulmate you ought to be dancing with though, don’t you?”

At that, Alfie smiles so wide it looks as though his face is in danger of splitting right open. “Lena is as much of a gossip as I am, we both know she’d be delighted if I turned up with news of the infamous Jaskier’s new ballad.”

“Consider yourself fortunate to be so knowledgeable then,” Jaskier says with a smirk that’s filled with none of the confidence he has in this ballad he’s now obliged to compose. “But don’t expect any other hints to be divulged just yet.”

“Alright, keep your secrets!”

And Jaskier does, though he spends the next week pouring over the book until his head feels like it’s filled with clouds. The ballad is exceptional but the strange look his professor gives him is filled with enough concern to keep him away from classes for another two weeks.

Only once does he get to experience it for himself, in the middle of Belleteyn.

He’s sat around a small campfire with a group of other bards, listening to Essi attempt getting through a longer ballad whilst slightly tipsy. He’d been supporting her, of course, prompting her the lyrics when she forgot them through the haze of wine, when he’s abruptly pulled into an old elder poem - it’s sad and beautiful and most importantly, it’s not one that he knows. And yet, he finds himself mumbling the words as they appear in his head, accompanied by what sounds like humming.

“Jaskier? What’s next?” Essi asks, giggling even as she frowns in concentration.

But he waves her off, springing to his feet and stumbling over to where he’d put his bag, starting to write the poem down in his journal as if his life depended on it. To be fair, he’d thought his love life might have at the time. He doesn’t realise how frantically he’s scribbling until the humming abruptly stops and he catches up with himself only to realise his hand is stained grey and his knees are damp from having knelt right on the wet grass.

“No no no, come back,” he mutters to himself, then quietly starts singing the ballad of the lovers who met under the spring arches.

He’s running before he knows it, ignoring the way the others call after him and breathing heavily as he makes his way to the towering arches of ivy in the academy courtyard; everyone who’s been to the city even just once knows of them and he hopes his soulmate takes the hint. But the warmth he’d been feeling fades.

Grateful for the darkness, he sinks to his knees once he’s been through the song three times and there’s still no sight of anyone nearby. Then he curses loudly, feeling foolish to even hope for such a whimsical turn of events; he should have known better than to get his hopes up, especially considering everything else he knows about whoever he has the pleasure of sharing all but his soul with.

He avoids the arches as much as he can.

“Have you ever been to Oxenfurt?” Jaskier asks Geralt as they enter Redania together, years and years later.

Geralt shrugs. “It’s loud. Too many people, not enough monsters.”

“Only you would complain about a lack of life-threatening circumstances, my dear,” Jaskier replies, but he can’t help his disappointment.

There’s no way he can force Geralt to accompany him to Oxenfurt just to test some ancient theory but at least he can be comforted by the knowledge that he must have passed through on at least one occasion if he knows what the city is like - perhaps the elder poem had been a hint at their adventures in Posada, he thinks.

In the end, he decides he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need Oxenfurt’s approval to love Geralt and he certainly has nothing to prove to any professors. Besides, he can’t imagine there would be any point in Geralt hearing him perform both out loud and within his mind at the same time; if anything, that would only make matters worse.

Either way, he never stays in Oxenfurt long enough to dwell on it. And nor does he need to when he has so much else to fall back on if he’s ever in doubt; there’s no point in him chasing more evidence when he’s already found the only conclusion he’ll ever need.

(little did he know his conclusion would inevitably be disproven.)

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i really played around with this so ik it’s not the typical earworm trope but please ignore that bc i am tired and just happy for jaskier to stop being an idiot - next up, Destiny metaphorically punching one (1) bard in the face ;)

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[wordsablaze]

5/13 - soulmate’s lies on your skin

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

A/N: i’m procrastinating and thought i’d make our bard’s life more chaotic so on we go...

previous chapter

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Geralt is the most honest man Jaskier knows.

And Jaskier knows this because he can tell if Geralt lies.

He hadn’t even realised that was what kept happening every time random sentences spontaneously appeared and disappeared on his skin, especially when he was younger, but it became crystal clear when he was old enough to recognise that the phrases were obviously all wrong.

His siblings would often tease him for having a soulmate who lied so rarely or about such strange things and often, he’d wished he could share their amusement in knowing their soulmates lied about ordinary things or share their relief in knowing their soulmates were ordinary and acceptable and nothing that warranted ridicule.

And then he’d gotten over seeking the ordinary and instead spent years wondering what the actual asking price for a bruxa contract was because apparently Geralt had kept lying about it. And not only that but a wide range of things like witchers don’t feel such emotions or yes this ale tastes great or every so often, something absolutely awful like you’re going to be just fine.

Knowing that someone is telling the truth almost all the time makes it a lot easier to trust them so, even early on in their travels, it had never been difficult for Jaskier to confidently say he trusts Geralt with his life.

“Geralt, are you listening to me?” Jaskier asks one evening as they drop their belongings on either side of the inn room they’d been given.

Geralt only hums in response.

“Yes yes, I know you have enhanced hearing and couldn’t help listening if you tried but I do need a second opinion so come on, tell me what you thought of that last verse with the warg?”

After a small pause, Geralt rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t bad-”

Jaskier beams at him.

“-aside from the melodrama.”

Waving a hand, Jaskier flops onto the floor beside his bag, fishing out his notebook and a quill. “Nobody wants to hear about emotionless bloodshed.”

“Maybe it’s just you they don’t want to hear,” Geralt replies with a small smirk. For a second, Jaskier panics at the lack of premonition about his soulmate lying, but then he catches Geralt’s expression and figures that sarcasm is exempt.

“Why, how dare you!” Jaskier exclaims, barely resisting the urge to throw his notebook at the witcher. “Need I remind you that we are tossed coins in almost every town specifically because the people wanted to hear me!”

“I need a drink,” Geralt replies.

Jaskier waves a hand again. “Bring me back one too, would you?”

Geralt pauses at the door. “You’re not performing?”

He shakes his head, already rewriting the succubus verse to be just a touch less melodramatic and a little more plausible. “I’ll make up for it in the morning, Maya said that’d be fine.”

“Who?” Geralt asks.

Jaskier blinks at him. “Really, Geralt? The innkeeper who we talked to moments ago? Maybe you do need that drink!”

He doesn’t actually know how long it takes Geralt to get the drink but by the time he comes back, Jaskier is having to squint at the page because the sun had rudely decided to set before he could finish.

“Jaskier, I’ll leave without you if you stay up and complain in the morning,” Geralt says in place of a greeting as he locks the door behind him.

“No you won’t,” Jaskier mumbles back.

“Oh, really?” Geralt asks, then crouches in front of him and holds out a tankard.

Jaskier takes it gratefully before nodding and looking up. “You are a softie, Geralt of Rivia, and you have long since stopped trying to leave me behind,” he declares as if he’s not secretly very worried every time the words don’t appear on his skin - he’s almost certain teasing is also exempt.

Regardless, he finishes the drink and only one more verse before retiring for the night.

He wakes with the uncanny notion that his soulmate is lying and when he blinks his eyes open to glance at his arm under the moonlight, he stares at the words ‘it definitely wasn’t a succubus’ with confusion until they disappear.

Then, for a horrible moment, he thinks that Geralt has left him to go seek a contract somewhere else in the middle of the night like he’d threatened to. But then he throws an arm out and finds Geralt still asleep next to him, sighing in relief as he lets his head drop back down onto the pillow, concluding that perhaps he’s just having some sort of strange dream.

It’s not unexpected when Geralt denies it the next morning, snorting in amusement.

“I’m not the one who dreamt of a succubus, Geralt, I don’t know why you bother to deny it,” Jaskier grumbles, “and anyway, it’s not the worst dream one could have. You really do need to tell me more about succubi though, I don’t think I’ve written a song about them yet.”

“I’ve never killed one,” Geralt replies as they both get dressed.

Jaskier frowns at the impossibility of that statement for a moment but then realises what he actually means. “Just because you have too much of a heart to kill every creature you come across doesn’t mean I can’t write about them anyway!”

Geralt only hums in response and the two of them make their way down the stairs so Jaskier can perform and prevent them from being kicked out. It doesn’t take long to earn enough coin for that even with the more sparse morning crowd so he’s back by Geralt’s side at their table before he’s even really that hungry.

“Thought you’d never stop,” Geralt says with another smirk.

Jaskier huffs, elbowing him to grab some cheese off his plate. “You liked it really, my dear, I know you did.”

A maid comes over to their table with another drink for Jaskier before they can say much more, smiling shyly as he beams at her. “Why hello, beautiful! Thank you for this-” he takes a small sip of the rather mediocre ale- “wonderful drink!”

“You really think it’s wonderful?” she asks, her eyes shining as if she’d made it herself. Which, when he thinks about it, she probably has. Oh dear.

He turns to warn Geralt not to say anything bad since witchers have their own specific taste in ale that is most definitely leagues above this one but to his surprise, Geralt only smiles at her. “I agree, it’s wonderful.”

Jaskier glances at his wrists instinctively, biting his lip when nothing appears. That same unsettling fear roots inside his heart again until he looks up at the girl who’s blushing furiously and stumbling over her words of gratitude and abruptly, he’s fearless once again; small, polite white lies must also be exempt.

He chides himself for even daring to think badly of Destiny and smiles once again at the girl before she slips back into the kitchens, merely shrugging when Geralt asks him why he has a funny expression on his face and stealing more cheese off his plate in response, content.

(little did he know that exemptions don’t exist.)

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let’s avoid questioning jaskier’s obliviousness and focus on eskel and that succubus instead :)

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[wordsablaze]

2/13 - temperature compass

A Dozen Denials Soulmate-identifiers exist to make things easier unless you’re Jaskier, who’s equally as deep in love as he is in denial. But there’s only so many excuses you can make to avoid the truth… (aka jaskier’s soulmate is definitely a witcher, just not the one he first assumes)

previous chapter

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Jaskier travelled a lot.

He had to, he was a bard and travelling was simply part of the job description.

But travelling meant getting used to the uncertainty of whether or not he’d find a receptive audience or an inn that provided baths or even a town to stay in before a storm arrived. Most importantly, travelling meant figuring out where his soulmate was.

It’d been other bards that had told him of how soulmates are meant to find warmth within each other and they’d sung tales of how people would end up shivering even on the warmest summer days if they were too far apart.

And Jaskier? Well, Jaskier tried to keep track of how warm or how cold he was.

At first he assumed his soulmate was in one place like most people's so he kept a note of which towns were warmer to him and which were colder. But he’d find the same town being both freezing and pleasantly warm during revisits and he soon lost hope in that strategy.

He knew from the very beginning that it couldn’t have been anyone in his hometown because he’d never felt warm there, so he had a good excuse never to return thanks to his soulmate.

Not that eliminating one place was much use when travelling the continent resulted in a strange, undecipherable pattern of hot and cold - it was always awkward when he’d spend the night with someone and have to leave before they woke up because he couldn’t stop shivering.

It started to hurt eventually, singing ballads of romance and destiny and warmth when he could never truly shake the chills that practically lived in his spine.

Only once had Jaskier truly felt his heart heat up and he hates himself for barely being able to remember anything about it.

It’d been nearing winter and he’d been making camp in a forest, which one he couldn’t tell you. It’d been dark and the dull crackle of thunder had settled overhead as he’d pulled a second blanket around his shoulders.

Just when it had started to rain and Jaskier had been regretting his life choices again, he’d felt the ghost of sunshine rush through him. And it was everything the stories promised.

He’d so badly wanted to stay awake and bask in the newfound feeling of being content but the only reason he was outside in the first place was because he’d been in a stupid tavern brawl. Which meant that he was slightly drunk and utterly exhausted and totally unable to stay awake more than a few hours.

When he’d woken up, the warmth had faded.

Jaskier had searched the whole forest for days but he’d only made himself colder by doing so, and he’d quickly reverted to his usual lifestyle of travelling and hoping for the best.

He got used to being cold again and having to wear several layers of clothing to try and make up for it. Somehow, the lack of warmth felt worse once he knew what finding it could feel like.

And then he comes across Geralt.

Geralt, who never seems to be particularly warm to touch but sparks something inside Jaskier that makes up for it. And Jaskier begins to think that there must be different meanings of warmth because nobody had ever inspired him the way Geralt does.

Singing about Geralt rekindles his urge to create music and surely there can’t be anything better for a bard than finding a constant, undying muse.

Curling up with Geralt during bad weather and pretending they only have one bedroll makes him feel safe and warm and happy and isn’t that exactly what all the stories mean anyway?

Reuniting with Geralt every spring is usually what gets him through winter and Jaskier decides that the renewal of his passion is all the heat he needs.

“Geralt, did you ever feel warmth before we met?” Jaskier asks randomly one night as they settle into the only bed the inn had been able to offer.

Geralt looks at him with an eyebrow raised. “Is that a trick question?”

Huffing, Jaskier shakes his head and tries again. “No. I mean… Did you ever make camp in a forest during a storm?”

There’s a moment of silence before Geralt nods. “Of course. You know most towns didn’t welcome me before you started singing.”

Jaskier grins and allows himself to bask in the praise for just a moment. “And did you ever feel like you were, you know, close to your soulmate?”

“Never bothered to think about it,” Geralt answers honestly, “so can we get some sleep now?”

But that isn’t a no.

And of course Geralt hadn’t paid much attention to it, he’d never even imagined himself capable of having a soulmate, unlike Jaskier, who’d been actively searching for his all the time.

So even as he nods and curls closer to Geralt, Jaskier finds himself smiling at the thought of having once been so close to him before they’d officially met.

It feels oddly romantic to have glimpsed his future and he’s content with how his destiny had played out, even if he’d had to go through far too many cold, soulmate-less storms along the way.

It’s not even remotely a warm night but Geralt’s arm around his middle feels more than warm enough and Jaskier knows that, unlike so many times before, he won’t be woken in the middle of the night by rogue shivers.

He knows that he’ll sleep well because he can’t be disturbed by his own teeth chattering when Geralt is there to ensure they’re both warm, and it feels amazing to finally have that guarantee.

And although Geralt’s mutations mean that being together is more for Jaskier’s benefit, it feels nice to know he’s also helping someone else get a good night’s rest without being interrupted by too low of a temperature. Even better than it’s a witcher he’s helping because heaven knows they deserve it after all their struggles.

It’s not like Jaskier can simply erase decades of cold words, cold nights, and cold attitudes, but helping even one witcher feels like he’s doing something to change things for the better and that feels right to him.

And if that means he has a legitimate reason to fall asleep in his soulmate’s comfortable arms every night other than simply wanting to, well, you won’t hear him complaining because he's perfectly happy with that.

(little did he know he’d never even seen his soulmate’s arms.)

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let’s just pretend that jumping back and forth in time for each chapter isn’t messy, okay? ^.^

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier | next chapter