#jaskier: take me now

[hanzajesthanza]

“what does geralt get from that friendship…”

another post examining the weight of geralt and dandelion’s friendship… because i don’t think people recognize how painful and debilitating loneliness can become.

the witcher as a deconstruction of the genre takes fantasy tropes to their most logical ends—it asks us to consider what The Lone Swordsman feels, looks into the humanity in a Cold-Blooded Killer. and it turns out he’s not cold-blooded at all.

that despite some superhuman abilities, he laments and worries and curses himself, just like any other worker of any other profession. just as the farmer is scorched by the sun, the washerwoman’s back aches, and the scholar goes half-blind studying, a witcher deals with all of the pains and annoyances and dangers of his job in a mundanely human way.

but the farmer, the washerwoman, and the scholar have something the witcher does not have—they’ll always be seen as human and part of their society. at the end of the day after enduring all of their labor, they have their wife to caress, festivities to attend, and taverns to frequent. but for a witcher? after the killing is over, what does he have? no one and nothing. not even a thank you. he is met with fear and hatred everywhere he goes, baseless bigotry and dislike.

I did my job. I quickly learned how. I’d ride up to village enclosures or town pickets and wait. If they spat, cursed and threw stones, I rode away. If someone came out to give me a commission, I’d carry it out.

so he faces not just loneliness, but being deliberately ostracized and cast out from society. geralt can’t even find a polite word in most settlements, much less a friend.

‘(…) Tell me, where should I go? And for what? At least here some people have gathered with whom I have something to talk about. People who don’t break off their conversations when I approach. People who, though they may not like me, say it to my face, and don’t throw stones from behind a fence. (…)’

this kind of loneliness is not a mere inconvenience. it’s completely altering to your self-perception and ability to see the positive in the world.

each day is not lived, but endured.

day in, and day out—forced to the most difficult and lowest labor in order to survive, and knowing that were you to die, no one would search for your body, few would miss you, hell, they might even spit “good riddance”.

in this situation, to find a friend, is not only friendship, but a rescue.

without dandelion, geralt may have drowned—drowned in solitude, amidst a sea of strangeness.

‘(…) And I’m alone, completely alone, endlessly alone among the strange and hostile elements. Solitude amid a sea of strangeness. Don’t you dream of that?’

No, I don’t, he thought. I have it every day.

because dandelion is not only a bright soul, characteristic rippling laughter and the strum of a lute, but someone who will intently listen to geralt, someone who mutually enjoys his company.

‘(…) you almost jumped out of your pants with joy to have a companion. Until then, you only had your horse for company.’

someone who doesn’t see him as strange and at the fringes of society at all, but as an utterly normal man.

and doesn’t impose demeaning, sappy sympathy onto him, but sobering and realistic “quit your bullshit” which ridicules the very thought that he should internalize societal hatred.

Do you know what your problem is, Geralt? You think you’re different. (…) [You don’t understand that] for people who think clear-headedly you’re the most normal man under the sun, and they all wish that everybody was so normal. What of it that you have quicker reflexes than most and vertical pupils in sunlight? That you can see in the dark like a cat? That you know a few spells? Big deal.

dandelion isn’t “willing” to accept geralt for himself—he already has accepted him. and to him, it’s no difficulty, it’s nothing worth discussing, because he sees no abnormality and no strangeness in him.

while others “prefer the company of lepers to witchers,” dandelion has already offered geralt to share his room and board. not out of sympathetic pity, not out of fetishizing curiosity. because… they’re friends.

and what else does this friendship save him from?

not only from others, but from himself.

worse than enduring others’ apathy and hatred is one’s own thoughts—the darkness and negativity which builds from witnessing and experiencing such behavior.

dandelion’s ability to counter and dispel geralt’s pessimism and self-flagellating tendencies—again, not out of pity, but out of friendship—is undeniably invaluable. someone to rescue you from your darkest thoughts, when you begin to spiral.

and in this darkness, all you can do is cry. you cry, beg for someone to help you, please—

Help! Why doesn't anyone help me? Alone, weak, helpless – I can't move, can't force a sound from my constricted throat. Why does no one come to help me? I'm terrified!

to be alone, the saga reminds us, is worse than a death sentence. to be alone is to “perish; stabbed, beaten or kicked to death, defiled, like a toy passed from hand to hand.” to be alone is to suffer, and to be with someone is to save them from that suffering.

'(…) I wouldn't like anything bad to happen to you. I like you too much, owe you too much-'

'You've said that already. What do you owe me, Yennefer?'

The sorceress turned her head away, did not say anything for a while.

'You travelled with him,' she said finally. 'Thanks to you he was not alone. You were a friend to him. You were with him.'

it is true that geralt has saved dandelion countless times, helped him, gotten him out of some scrape… but to ask what did geralt get in return? are you kidding me?

did you ever consider that it is dandelion who saved geralt?

by being with him. by being by his side. by being his friend.

indeed, dandelion has rescued geralt, countless times, from the yawning jaws of endless loneliness. he’s helped him, chased away the danger of geralt’s own rumination. and he’s gotten him out of scrapes, his own insecurities and bitter helplessness.

so what does dandelion give geralt? what does geralt get from their friendship?

an amusing question. what one gets from friendship is the friendship itself. and that is more than enough.

[aeide-thea]

wot show is so obsessed with architecture and tbh i'm not mad about it???

[blooms-in-april]

I'm thinking sad Jaskier thoughts.

It takes a while for Geralt to realize the music is gone. Oh Jaskier still sings- for their supper, for Ciri when she's sad, to entertain Kaer Morhen on late card playing nights. But the music- the music is gone. No more of the mindless humming as he walks, no more parsing over rhymes by the fire, no more harassing Geralt for his thoughts on such and such melody. Jaskier sings like a wind-up music box, only when requested, cranked for it, and snapping shut into silence like the sharp closing of a lid.

Yennefer snorts at his concern. "It took you this long to notice?"

Geralt grunts. She smiles, sharp and bitter. "You always were slow."

"How do I fix it?" Geralt snaps. He is not here to be mocked or play games.

"Can you fix it?" Yennefer asks. "I don't know."

Geralt doesn't know either. All he can do is try.

One of the mages had left a god's damned harpsichord in their tower room. It takes Geralt weeks- lugging the ornate monstrosity down from the mages tower, finding schematics in the library for the damn thing, undoing by sheer will the rot and moulding of a hundred years on the instrument. He spends his evenings waist deep in the guts of the instrument, swearing over chords and tuning and keys.

Jaskier's silence, now that he notices it, gapes like an open wound, bleeding wherever he goes. It stains memories of years past, of a cheerful smile and conversation given to him so freely, so easily, not a hint of subterfuge or awkwardness or fear. Now Jaskier only says good morrow if Geralt says it first, only speaks when spoken to, only smiles when Ciri is looking his way.

Geralt polishes the harpsichord until his fingers blister and his nose stings from the smell. He paints the elaborate carvings with pure gold leaf. He spends hours tightening strings trying to get the thing in tune. He worries over it like a child, because he doesn't know what else to do.

"What do you think?" He asks Eskel as they carry it carefully down to Jaskier's room.

"It's very nice." Eskel says diplomatically. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"Appreciate it?" Geralt doesn't want appreciation. He wants that soft tone back in Jaskier's voice when he speaks to him. He wants Jaskier to speak to him, to turn to him free and easy with something to say.

"He'll like it," Eskel says, "Just-"

He turns, his soft eyes full of warning. "Just don't put all your hopes on an old harpsichord."

Lambert snorts, "Too little too late!" He laughs. And Lambert has always been hateful, more so since Aiden was lost, but the words feel true.

Jaskier smiles when he presents him with the harpsichord. He exclaims and laughs and claps his hands. He extolls its virtues, coos over its decorations, fusses over it with all the enthusiasm of a performing parrot. He pulls Ciri onto his lap and guides her hands on the keys, composes a little ditty on the fly for Yennefer, plays something sweet and sad that makes Lambert turn his face away. In all the merriment and gratitude and excitement, he looks Geralt in the eyes only once. Once, upon the first shock of the present. Once, with eyes wide and open, like a wound.

Geralt lingers as the others go off to bed, watching as Jaskier slowly fades as his audience wanes.

"Thank you, Geralt." he says. "It is truly a magnificent present. And far more than I deserve."

Do not thank me is what Geralt wants to say. Do not thank me, not when I have done this to you.

"I didn't do much," is what comes out of his mouth. "It was already there."

Jaskier does not look at him. "If this is an apology-" he says, "I do not need it. You were tired and upset. You spoke your mind. And nothing you said was- untrue. From a certain point of view. You do not need to absolve your guilt to me."

"Jaskier," Geralt says. "I'm sorry."

"And I forgive you." Jaskier says "I forgave you even the moment you after spoke. I don't think I would be myself if I could do otherwise."

It is done. The gift given, the apology accepted. And yet the silence still sits heavy in the air. It is not fixed. It is still broken. It is still out of tune and all of Geralt's twisting and tunings have not set the melody to rights.

"Why are you still like this?" He says. Jaskier stiffens. The words are wrong again, he's done it again, and he could scream with frustration, like a child who keeps swinging the sword and cutting himself on the dulled edge.

"Do you know the Countess de Stael bought me a Stradivarius once?" Jaskier said. "You don't know what that is. A fiddle, rarer than rubies. There were only twenty ever made. It sings like nothing else. She presented it to me on a bed of velvet, and told me she loved me. She told me to stay. And I would have."

Jaskier plinks a few idle notes. "She kicked me out a month later. Too mouthy. Too tacky. Too gauche. She had found someone better. She took back the Stradivarius and handed it off to her new minstrel."

"What I am saying, Geralt-" He says. "What I am asking- Is that you not do things you do not mean. That you not give me false hope. That you stop trying to make me love you, because I already do. I already do and it hurts. It hurts so much."

[papysanzonew]

“He still at least wears Pendragon red though. Maybe it’s alri– nope, he burned it. Nevermind, you’re fucked, princess.”

Some context. Lately, I’ve been obsessed with burn, butcher, burn and since I’m also obsessed with Merlin (you don’t say) I thought about a crossover. So, Arthur and Merlin are attacked by bandits in the forest, Merlin is forced to use magic, and Arthur witnesses it all. Arthur is angry, disappointed, hurt etc and banishes Merlin, leaving him alone in the forest and returning to Camelot. The problem is that Merlin is also angry, because after everything he’s done for Arthur he’s banished, really? So, fuck Destiny, fuck the stupid dragon and his stupid prophecy but, mostly, fuck Arthur Pendragon. Merlin leaves and doesn’t look back. It takes Arthur less than 24 hours to figure out he screwed up and goes looking for Merlin.  Well, he is not amused by what he finds but he knows he deserves it. At first Merlin refuses to go back, but Gwaine’s jokes and Arthur’s pleading eyes (and his apologies) convince him. (That and the patrons begging him to leave. Jaskier may be good at singing but Merlin not so much) Also: “I hear you’re alive, how disappointing I’ve also survived, no thanks to you Did I not bring you some glee Mister, oh, look at me Now I’ll burn all the memories of you“

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 109

Geralt is a witcher. Cats tend to distance themselves from witchers. Sometimes Geralt wonders what cats are like. So one day he asks. "Cats are lovely. Beautiful little sweethearts." The old woman who owns the inn says to him. "Cats are annoying varmints, always yowling in the middle of the night when they're in heat, they SCREAM their little heads off, can't catch a wink of sleep with them around!" A man passing by him in the market complains, with the anger of someone who has clearly thought about this a lot. "My cat isn't the biggest fan of being touched, but she's a good girl. Catches the mice." "They're evil little hellions, nothing compared to dogs. Don't even like their owners." "I'd like 'em a whole lot more if my way of living wasn't being a fisherman. They climb in at night and steal my best catches." "They're adorable!" "My cat is the cuddliest sweetest snuggliest little kitty to ever live, I think. Nobody will ever love me as much as he loves me." "My friend has a kitten! She already knows to chase the feathers we wave in front of her! I hope she still plays when she grows up." Opinions are varied in the town, but the majority seem to love them. He wants to know what they're like, not if they are liked. He sits down with a friendlier townie one afternoon and asks in detail what cats are like. What's great about them, what's bad about them, what do they like, what do they hate, what can they do, what have they done? The more she describes cats, however, the more Geralt can't help but be reminded of Jaskier. "They're playful. They love making noise and chasing things."

"Geralt, please, can't I play my lute? It's been fourteen whole minutes of SILENCE! Let me play a song!" "Why do you stay?" "Maybe I just like following you, Geralt. It's nice only having to pay for half of everything, after all."

"They're moody little things. Cats will want to cuddle you one second, and be left alone the next, and if you can't read their mind, they'll give you an annoyed little pouty face, as if you were meant to know better!"

"Geralt, do you mind if I...?" "If you what?" "Sit here?" "...My lap?" "That is where I'm sitting, yes. May I?" "...Mm." "Great thanks!~" "Geralt, you pissing idiot! I can't believe you! Don't touch me! Don't even look at me! How could you do something so so so SO stupid!?" "This is my job, Jaskier." "And apparently sewing up your arm is mine!" "I can take care of it." "Oh, I'm meant to just trust the man who went off and got mauled by a werewolf, then?"

"They enjoy a good sleep. Cats nap more than my old man, if you can believe it. They love comfort and luxury."

"Geralt, can't we stay at an inn? It's been so long." "Can we rest? Just for a bit? Pleaaaase? I want a nap. Don't I deserve it?" "Geralt, not to be ungrateful, but I think sleeping on the dirt would be better than this inn. Don't tell me you're making us sleep here. There's probably snakes nesting in the pillows."

"But at the same time, they love the grittiest bits of the outdoors. Chasing rabbits through tunnels, climbing trees after a songbird- My childhood cat used to dive in the swamp to catch frogs."

"Geralt, taking a shortcut through the bog is the easiest way to get to the competition in time! Now hurry along! Either I cross the bog alone, or you come with me!" "Geralt, I went looking for potion ingredients while you were skinning the deer!" "Geralt, are you going to cut the damn thing's head off or what? Wait, darling, are you alright? Are you hurt? Let me do it-"

"They sometimes bring you dead critters because they want to feed you. It's oddly very endearing."

"Geralt, I bought you some honey buns!" "I found some lovely cakes, do you want one, Geralt? You haven't eaten at all today." "I- I killed it. It was coming straight for you and I panicked. Am I bleeding? I can't quite tell because of the adrenaline, so am I bleeding or not, Gerelt? Can you tell me? Are YOU bleeding? Did I get it in time?" "I got so many tips last time I played, Geralt, you can get a bigger meal."

"They get themselves into trouble a lot, though. Places they shouldn't be, things they shouldn't touch, things they shouldn't eat."

"Geralt, I didn't mean to cause all of this. I'm sorry." "It's nothing, Jaskier. I'm just glad you're unharmed." "...Um... Geralt? Can you let go of my wrists now?" "Don't. Touch. Anything. The plant's spines are poisonous." "Jaskier, spit it out! SPIT IT OUT! I told you to stop fucking eating things in Yennefer's place" "Then why was it colored like a nice candy?"

"When they're scared or angry, they can make a right mess out of you. Don't let their cuteness fool you, they can do some damage."

"What else was I supposed to do, Geralt?" "Not punch him!" "He said you were a monster!" "I am!" "Do you want me to punch YOU?" "Geralt, I lost my dagger. It was in one of the bandits we chased away." "Geralt, will you teach me how to use a sword? Nothing fancy, just how to kill something."

"But above all, they're loyal, and loving. Ever so lovely. They'd die for you, if you treated them nice enough." "Thank you for telling me. I.. Have to go." Geralt stammers out, racing away to the inn he left Jaskier in. "Oh, hello, Geralt. Did you find a contact?" And Geralt yanks him close, and hugs him. He should try kissing him one of these days. Either way, Geralt won't mourn for the cat he can never have, for he has a Jaskier, and it's close enough.

[thedemonofcat]

“Dandelion!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, “there’s no need to be rude!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jaskier assumed he would never see the witcher again.

He was proven wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[shy-urban-hobbit]

"I'm telling you Geralt, my songs are definitely working."

"A few contracts not skimping on payment isn't proof Jaskier. It's coincidence." Geralt replied as he stuffed his newly purchased supplies into Roach's saddlebag. After two years, he didn't need to look to know the bard was probably doing his uncanny impression of a landed trout. His default expression when he thought himself gravely offended.

"Oh hoho. So it's proof you want? Fine, I'll get you proof you old cynic - wait, I'm here calling you old, how old are you? I know Witchers age differently but it's all so contradictory. I remember one text claiming you aged backwards. Backwards!"

Geralt was blessedly distracted from Jaskier's tangent by a small tug on his cloak causing him to look behind him and then down.

A small, tear stained face with huge, liquid brown eyes looked up at him. The hand that wasn't clutching Geralt's cloak fisted in the skirt of a green dress as she shuffled her small, booted feet. Witcher and child stared at one another and even Jaskier had fallen silent.

"Are you the White Wolf?" She asked in a small voice.

Geralt could only nod in response, keeping an eye and both ears out for angry adults about to accuse him of kidnapping.

"I can't find my Papa." She sniffled, voice trembling and eyes welling up.

He felt himself slip into Witcher mode, trying to think what could be snatching people from a crowded town in the middle of the day, "What do you mean you can't find him, has he gone missing or-"

"Sweetheart, do you mean you got separated from your Papa in the market?" Jaskier gently interjected before Geralt could start fully interrogating her. The girl gave a small nod, turning her attention to the bard now kneeling in the dirt next to her.

Geralt felt his face heat up. Right. Just a lost child. That was also a possible (and the most logical) explanation.

"It's ok, we'll help you find him. Won't we Geralt?" Jaskier's tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

It turned out that Jaskier's idea of helping was having the girl perch on Geralt's shoulders and scan the top of the crowd for her father while he stood playing silly little dittys to keep her from crying again. Geralt holding onto her shins lightly and trying to ignore the mess being made on his cloak by muddy feet.

"I see him! Papa! Papa!"

Geralt tightened his grip slightly as her weight shifted with her frantic waving. Waiting until he was clearly making his way over to them before setting her gently back on the ground.

"Mika! Oh thank the God's." He turned his attention to the two men, his eyes widened as he took Geralt in fully.

"You're-"

"Hmmm."

Geralt tried to hide his surprise as the man grasped his hand in a firm if slightly clammy grip. "My thanks Wolf. I swear, if I went home without her my wife would make sure I shared the same fate as that Hag from the song of yours." He said, smiling awkwardly at his own attempt at humour, "Come on Mika, say goodbye. Oh, here."

He reached into his satchel and pulled something out. Geralt could smell warm sugar as he handed it over. "It's not much, but I don't know a single person who doesn't like cake. I could do with cutting down myself." He said, patting his own slight paunch before taking his daughters hand with a final "Thank you." Mika turning back to give a wave which they both returned before the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

"What?" Geralt asked as they left the town. The bard hadn't stopped grinning at him like the cat who'd got the canary.

"Nothing. It just, the timing and everything. Seems Destiny agreed with me for once. The songs are making a difference."

"Hmm." Geralt fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh don't give me that." Jaskier said, swatting Geralt in the side as he unwrapped the package Mika's father had given them, "You saw as well as I did there were plenty of town guards around but she went to you. She wanted you. Oooh, maybe this would be good for a new song. The Gentle Wolf! Yes I- hey! "

"No cake for you until you stop." Geralt stated, popping a piece into his own mouth to hide his smile.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Rare Encounters (Jaskier x f!witcher!reader)

A/N: hi guys…. I finished Fallout the tv show and it gave me that urge to write that I haven’t had in a while. Now fingers crossed that it works for the long run. Once I can get a good feel for the Fallout universe, my ass will 100% be writing fallout fics 😂

Warnings: nothing outside of canon

Summary: Jaskier meets his first female witcher.

“I swear, you all live like fucking pigs.” You grumbled as you picked up the empty tankards and bowls.

“Oh, just relax, Y/N.” Lambert spoke from across the room. He sat at a table with most of the other wolves as they told stories and carried on. “No one cares what this place looks like.”

“I do, as should you.” You placed the dirty dishes on to the end of one of the empty tables. “Who is going to be doing dishes tonight?”

All of the wolves diverted their eyes away from you.

“Oh come on, boys. It’s just dishes. You’ve done worse, I’m sure of it.”

“I’d rather gut an ekimorra than do house chores.” Coen shook his head.

“Alright. Well then, I’ll just choose for myself who will be the lucky one.”

“When are ya goin’ to get eaten by a cockatrice or something, Y/N?” The redhead wolf teased. “All this nagging you do is–,”

With a flick of your wrist and a sign of aard, Lambert was sent backwards off of the bench. You grinned just a little.

“You fucking–,” He signed aard back at you the second he was on his feet, but you were quick to sign quen, blocking his attack.

“Don’t start that this early in the winter, Lambert.” Vesemir scolded him as he moved to sit next to Coen.

“Me?” Lambert raised his brows. “She’s the one who started it!”

The doors to the keep opened, bringing in a rush of cold wind. You looked up to see Geralt, a man, and a girl walking in.

The wolves fell silent as Geralt pushed the hood off of his head. A fond smile came to his lips.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Lambert stood to his feet and took a few steps towards his brother. Coen followed.

“We thought you were dead, or lost.”

“Not yet.” Geralt embraced Coen first and then Lambert.

All the other wolves soon took their turn greeting their fellow witcher.

“Y/N.” He said your name fondly. “Glad to see you didn’t let Lambert get you killed on the path.”

“I about killed her myself a couple times.” Lambert glared at you. “She’s like having a second Vesemir around, except some how she’s worse!”

You gave him a shove away from you, rolling your eyes.

“That’s the last time I spend time with you on the path.” Your words were directed to Lambert while you gave Geralt a hug. “Now I have to spend the entire winter in this gods damned keep with him too.”

“Have you seen Eskel, Geralt?” Lambert returned to his seat.

“He’s not here?” Geralt furrowed his brow.

“Haven’t seen any sign of him.” Coen shook his head. “Usually he’s one of the first one’s here, but hasn’t made it this year.”

“Hmm.”

“Wolf. You’re home.” Vesemir was the last to greet the White Wolf.

“I had to make a few stops.” Geralt looked back to the girl and the man to his left.

Your eyes fell on her. Your medallion had trembled when she first entered the room and even now, you could still feel the chaos radiating off of her. She seemed curious, bright eyes taking in every witcher around her. Then she looked at you. You held her gaze, lifting your chin just a little in acknowledgement.

You turned to continue cleaning up the mess the wolves left behind as introductions were made between Geralt’s guests and the wolves.

“And who might she be?” Jaskier asked Geralt as you picked up an empty pitcher from the table the wolves sat at.

“Y/N here is the maid of the keep.” Lambert answered for you. His eyes followed you as you moved around the table, a little grin playing on his lips. “Helps keep everything all nice and clean for us men.”

You launched the pitcher at his head. He dodged to the side, nearly pushing Coen off of the bench in the process.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble this winter, Lambert.” Vesemir warned him.

“This is Y/N.” Geralt introduced you properly. He and his guests took a seat at the table with the rest of the wolves. “She’s our sister.”

“Sister?” Ciri repeated, furrowing her brows. “As in a witcher?”

“It would seem that way.” You confirmed with a slight nod and a sigh.

“That’s absolutely amazing!” Jaskier exclaimed. “A lady witcher.”

“I think calling her a lady may be overselling it.” Coen snickered.

“Yeah, she ain’t no lady.” Lambert added.

You moved to lean in between him and Coen, reaching for an empty plate. As you were turning away from the table, you made sure to purposefully smack both of the wolves in the head with the plate.

“Fuck!”

“Why don’t you boys make yourselves useful and go do these dishes before they get out of hand?” You placed the bin of dirty dishes down in front of Coen.

They grumbled but decided not to fight it. If they did dishes now, they wouldn’t have to do them later. Or so they thought.

“You’ve never mentioned that you had a sister, Geralt.”

The White Wolf grumbled in his chest as he looked at his bard. It was a warning. He knew very well how Jaskier was with the opposite sex.

“Geralt doesn’t like to do such a thing.” You settled with sitting at the end of a bench at one of the tables. “I would take away all the spotlight from the grand White Wolf. If word got out about a lady witcher, why, the White Wolf wouldn’t be so exciting, now would he?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at you as he moved to the table that had a jug of ale and mugs. He poured himself a mug and then returned to sit across from you.

“If it wouldn’t be too much, I would absolutely love to hear more about you.” Jaskier sat down just beside Geralt. He leaned against the table with both hands and his voice oozed with excitement. “You see, I am a bard by trade. Perhaps you’ve heard some of my work.”

You gazed into his blue eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of your scarred lips.

“You’re a brave soul, bard.”

He smiled a bit bashfully, cheeks flushing light pink.

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” Geralt told him. His words made Jaskier’s smile drop.

“What? Of-Of course it was!”

“It was more of an observation, bard.” You said. “Not many could come to a witcher’s keep and ask a witcher to share her war stories just moments after meeting her.”

“Jaskier has no fear.” Geralt sighed.

“Well, I-I wouldn’t say that. I have plenty of fear.”

You smiled a little at the bard.

“How was the Path this year?” Geralt changed the subject. “I can’t imagine spending the whole year with Lambert was pleasant.”

“Oh, it was anything but pleasant.” You let out a small breath, scratching your fingertips over a groove in the wooden tabletop. “I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with spoons than spend that much time with him.”

Geralt chuckled a little.

“Y/N!” You heard Coen shout your name from the kitchen. You turned your head to the side, listening closely to what was going on.

Geralt furrowed his brows a little and tilted his head. He could also hear the roughhousing going on in the kitchen.

“Ah, fuck.” You grunted, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Is something wrong?” Jaskier asked you.

“My brothers are fools. Excuse me, bard. Princess.”

Jaskier watched as you crossed the room and disappeared behind a heavy wooden door. He didn’t realize he had been staring for too long until the White Wolf grumbled.

The bard turned his head to his traveling companion, brows falling and lips pressing together in a line as he found the witcher glaring at him.

“What?”

“Don’t think about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You get that same look in your eye when we go to banquets. That same look has gotten you nearly killed for bedding the wrong woman.”

“Geralt! Have a little faith in me! That is your sister for crying out loud! I-I would— I would never—,”

“Unfortunately, I know you too well, Jaskier.”

Jaskier found himself looking back to the door you had disappeared through. A sheepish smile crossed his lips.

“She is rather stunning, isn’t she?”

“Jaskier.”

“It’s a compliment!”

Geralt shook his head.

“She will rip you to pieces.”

“Isn’t that the hope?” Jaskier grinned.

“Gross.” Ciri scrunched her nose up. She had been so quiet that Jaskier almost forgot that they were in the company of the young girl.

“Sorry, Ciri.”

***

You carried a mug in one hand as you left the kitchen. It had been a few hours since Geralt and his guests had arrived. By now, night had fallen on Kaer Morhen. Lambert was preparing a late dinner for everyone. Coen and Vesemir were fixing a fallen shelf in the library. Ciri was in the library reading through a few books to pass time.

Geralt and Jaskier were just getting back in from checking on the horses.

“So I see you changed your mind about your Child Surprise.” You spoke. Your voice reverberated off of the walls.

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Cintra was overtaken by Nilfgard. She has no one.”

“Well, now she has us.” You took a seat on a bench but kept your back to the table. Geralt and Jaskier sat the same way, with their backs to the table just across from you.

A door across the room creaked as it was opened. Being that the door was behind you, you had to turn your head and your upper half to be able to see Vesemir.

“Where’s Ciri?” Geralt asked him.

“Left her in the library. She seemed rather interested in an old beastiary.” Vesemir poured himself a mug of ale.

“To think we have a princess here in the walls of Kaer Morhen.” You shook your head, finishing off the last bit of your drink. “This winter is going to be an interesting one.”

“She isn’t the first princess here.” Geralt said. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked away.

“What does that mean?” Jaskier looked to Geralt for an explanation.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Vesemir took a seat next to you. “All that matters is we don’t try to kill each other this winter.”

“Lambert is at the very top of my list.” You told him. “The first chance I get, I’m going to suffocate him in his sleep.”

“Y/N.” Vesemir scolded.

“Where do you hail from, Y/N?” Jaskier asked you.

“Ard Carraigh, though that was more than a lifetime ago.” You looked down at your empty tankard.

The sound of the horses out in the stables made you turn your head towards the door. You furrowed your brows, unsure of what had them stirring.

“Something’s bothering the horses.” Geralt grunted.

“I will go see to it.” Vesemir sighed as he stood to his feet.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” You asked him.

“No need. I don’t think it’s that much of a concern.”

You watched the old witcher leave through the heavy front door.

“I should go check on Ciri.” Geralt thought out loud.

“There can’t be too much she’d get into trouble with.” You said. “Nothing up there other than rats the size of a foal.”

“You’d be surprised with Ciri. She can find trouble out of thin air.” He stood up. “Don’t stir up any trouble while I’m gone, Jaskier.”

“You have too little faith in me, Geralt!”

The White Wolf rolled his eyes but said nothing as he walked away. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through a door that led to the rest of the keep.

“How long have you….” Jaskier trailed off, unsure of the right words to use. “Have you been a witcher long?”

“Are you asking my age, bard?”

“No, no! I’d never ask a lady such a thing.” He chuckled nervously. “I assume that if you have been a witcher for very long, I would have known about you. Or heard about you at some point in time.”

You stood up and moved seats, choosing instead to sit beside the bard. He shifted in his seat, clearly nervous by your sudden close presence.

“It’s been decades since I came here to Kaer Morhen.” You looked upwards to the high ceilings. “Before the sacking.”

”What was it like? Before the- Before the sacking?” Jaskier turned his head to you. He admired your side profile, blue eyes mapping out your facial features. The curve of your nose down to the shape of your lips.

Your attention was shifted to him. It was then that you noticed he was practically staring at your lips. You smiled a little, causing him to look up at your eyes. His cheeks turned pink and he chuckled nervously.

”My-My apologizes.”

”It was nothing grand.” You answered his question as you rose to your feet. “I need more drink. Would you like to come with me?”

”Yes.” Jaskier answered a little too quickly.

He followed behind you like a puppy. You looked over your shoulder to him, the twinkle in your eyes making his heart race. Gods, you were a beauty.

You pushed the door to the kitchen open but before Jaskier could follow you inside, Lambert and Coen were coming out.

“What are you doing, barker?” Coen asked.

“Just— I was just—,”

”Leave him alone, Coen.” You called from just inside the kitchen. Jaskier couldn’t see you because of the wall the two large witchers were forming, blocking you from him.

The boys laughed, their boisterous voices echoing throughout the room. Lambert clapped his hand down on Jaskier’s shoulder as they passed him. Jaskier was just a little confused.

”They are, uh, quite the pair, aren’t they?”

”A pair of jackasses is what they are.” You shook your head.

“Big brothers are like that. I have four.”

”Sounds horrendous.” You poured a second mug of ale and passed it to the bard. “Do you have any other siblings?”

”An older sister and a younger sister.”

”Seven children?” You raised your brows as you leaned against the wooden counter. “Yikes.”

”Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. He leaned against the counter beside you. “Always had a big family.”

”I was one of the last witchers to ever be made, so I suppose I’ve only ever had older brothers.” You took a sip of the ale. ”Couldn’t imagine it any other way. They irritate the piss out of me, but they’re my brothers.”

”They are good men.” Jaskier nodded. “Albeit, annoying. But good men.”

You found yourself gaze at the barker. He was stunning. Warm skin, dark curly hair, even darker eyelashes, and bright icy blue eyes that contrasted his features so nicely. He was a pleasure to gaze at.

The door to the kitchen opened and there stood Geralt.

Jaskier hurried to move, taking a step to the side to put space between himself and you.

“Ah, Geralt!”

The White Wolf offered a low grumble before he looked to you.

”Eskel is home. He doesn’t look good.”

“Is he okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows together. Your drink as discarded on the counter as you hurried to leave the kitchen.

”Vesemir has him in the infirmary.”

You slipped past the witcher and hurried away.

Geralt waited until your footsteps had disappeared down the staircase. Then he turned his attention to Jaskier. He crossed his arms over his chest, appearing even more intimidating than usual.

“Oh, come on, Geralt! Don’t look at me like that!”

”Y/N is—,”

”She is your sister! And you, you are my closest friend!” Jaskier moved to stand in front of Geralt. He placed his hands on Geralt’s biceps and attempted to shake the man but Geralt didn’t budge. “I wouldn’t dream of ever crossing you like that—,”

”Jaskier.” Geralt almost rolled his eyes. ”Get your hands off of me.”

”She is rather friendly though.” Jaskier clasped his hands behind his back as he slipped around the stocky witcher to leave the kitchen. “Very chatty too. Unlike you, you cranky old man.”

Geralt turned around to watch his friend as he started to walk away.

“Jaskier.”

”Yes, Geralt?” Jaskier turned on his toes to face him.

”Just be careful.”

The bard didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side just a bit.

“Uh, o-okay, Geralt.”

[artistsfuneral]

Jaskier meets Death at a forked path. He has never seen them in person before, their face - although incredible kind looking - is not one he's familiar with and yet he instinctively knows who is in front of him.

It's quite the idyllic picture to be honest. The path Jaskier has been following for the past few hours is lined with rough stone walls, the ones that are keeping flocks of sheep from straying too far. The sun is out and shining through the tree's leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows on the fresh grass. Death sits under one such dancing shadow-patch, surrounded by napping sheep. Their left hand is idly petting the spotted fur of a guardian dog, with their right, they're waving Jaskier over to join them.

He silently wonders if he should be scared. Others certainly would be terrified upon seeing Death waiting for them, but Jaskier has always been easily intrigued. Besides, Death is hardly looming over him, it's more like they're waiting for him - like one may wait for an old friend. It could be a trick of course, he muses as he walks over to where Death is sitting, then again it feels like the two of them could have met many, many times before and in much worse situations than this. So who is Jaskier to question Death?

The closer he gets the more he is able to take in. They're tall - taller than anyone he's met before, Jaskier thinks - and incredibly pretty. Not in the perfectly manicured kind of pretty, like some of the most beautiful darlings at court tend to be. No, Death carries a natural loveliness that can only be found and never created, like a special constellation of freckles, an off-center nose, or a small gap between your teeth. Death is everyone Jaskier ever sung of combined in one person, which makes him wonder if they always look like this or if they changed their appearance to please Jaskier's eyes specifically. If the latter, he'd surely feel flattered.

"Come sit with me, sweetheart," Death says and Jaskier is delighted to hear their voice. It's a very nice voice. He wants to hear Death laugh, he realizes as he sinks down next to them on the grass. Their eyes meet his and Death sends him the kindest smile, "It's been a while since I've seen you, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you happy and healthy." Jaskier grins, because what a funny thing for Death to say, but he can hear the honesty in their words. "Oh you know, just the usual aches and pains of my slowly progressing age. Nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before, I'm sure," Jaskier happily chatters back in the same familiar tone. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He asks and reaches for his pack. Might as well take his lunch break now, while the fruit he bought earlier this day are still fresh. Death answers his question with an agreeing hum and oh yes, Jaskier might just fall in love with them right then and there.

He focuses on his lunch and wills his foolish heart to calm. "Would you like some?" he asks Death, because his Mama raised him well and eating alone is never quite as enjoyable as sharing a meal. Death looks at him with amusement in their eyes. "I can not eat, but I appreciate the gesture."

Jaskier sighs, "What a pity."

"A small price to pay for a life like mine."

"You're alive?"

"I am here, am I not?"

He looks at Death wide eyed, a hundred thoughts stumbling through his mind at the same time. "I have so many questions."

"And I have a favor to ask of you, sweetheart," Death retords not unkindly. Throughout their short conversation the amusement never quite left their eyes and while Jaskier would normally feel patronized by such a look he somehow knows that Death is simply enjoying his company.

"Are we doing this right? Doesn't this whole asking for a favor thing usually go the other way around?" Death laughs and Jaskier's heart does a little jump, his fingers itch to write a new song. "You read too much, sweetheart."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as reading too much."

"The words of a scholar and a poet."

"At your service."

"Of course. I always get what I want," Death says knowingly, shoving yet another metaphorical box of Pontar towards Jaskier. Lucky for him he has long since learned to not think about these kind of things too much. It does feel a little bit like Death tricked him, though he loves a good repartee. "I have to admit, I am curious indeed. What could I possibly offer to you?"

Death turns their head away from him, looking at the dog in deep consideration. "I need..." Death pauses and Jaskier almost wants to think of it in a hesitant way, "to win a bet." The bard's shoulders drop immediately. "Ah," he says, because the hesitation now starts to make sense. Surely Death must know this of him. "I don't do bets, I'm afraid. It never ends well for the poets caught in between."

"I know," Death agrees easily and not very reassuringly, as a matter of fact. "But I am in need of a song. A song to bring the gods to tears and neither can I write nor sing. What I can do, is offer you my protection."

Jaskier's mind floods with thoughts.

Protection from Death.

The two of them stare into each other's eyes, the world around them timeless, everlasting. Finally, it is Jaskier who breaks the contact and returns to his bundle of food. He bites into a fruit, it's sweet juices run down his chin and drip onto his chemise. "I will make the gods weep," he declares and watches Death smile full of warmth.

[endiness]

And then he unexpectedly finds love. What do you think attracts him to Radovid? I mean, for me - and I'm going to be mean now - they are very similar and it's a bit like Jaskier falling in love with himself. JOEY: (laughter) What Jaskier sees in Radovid is – I think it is as you say and there is indeed some similarity. I think they are both hiding behind a facade, behind a painted face. Radovid is considered a court jester. Jaskier hides behind his own clownishness. And I think they immediately recognize that in themselves. It's like a liar or an actor can tell when someone else is taking advantage of their tricks. And they are both intrigued by it. They want to see what's under that facade and that mask. And that's what they're drawn to. There's something very, very visceral and exciting when you meet someone like that. That tension that's been there from the beginning - I think that's what brings them closer together. Would you say they are both quite lonely people? JOEY: I can't speak for Radovid. I don't like commenting on other people's characters. But what can I say… I wouldn't say that Jaskier is lonely. I might say he's lost. And he's not lost. He is used to wandering around the Continent. I think he's used to being a sort of wandering bard, to being alone, but also to being surrounded by company. I think he feels lonely deep down. Do you know what it's like to feel lonely in a room full of people? Yes, I still feel that way. JOEY: I think that's how Jaskier feels.

[jessilynallendilla]

HOME POST

FAE/CREATURE/NON HUMAN JASKIER  

I Am The Wild  T   

Years ago, Geralt meets a little boy befriending a monster. Years later, Geralt meets a bard. There's something familiar in the way he tries to keep Geralt from killing monsters. "Real monsters are human", he'd always say.  

The Shapes Of Us  T 33,142 SERIES  

Jaskier was a shapeshifter. It was as simple as that. Except for nothing was ever simple with him. Especially not since that white haired man had rescued him. Protected him. Healed him. Saved him. What other option did he have but to try and return the favor?  

We Can Do Good, Together  M 8,391  

Geralt had heard rumors of it before he'd been approached by Yennefer and asked, "How much?“  

He stared at her, unimpressed, "How much to do what?"  

"Don't play coy," she replied, "You know just as well as I do that there's been something wrecking havoc across the Continent."  

Hidden By The Forest  M 15,496 SERIES  

“Geralt, please, I... can... let me explain, please...” Jaskier’s voice wavers and he takes another step back. Geralt strengthens his grip on the blood-soaked sword still in his hand and glares at Jaskier. At who he thought was Jaskier but is clearly something else.   

Salt And Ash, Iron And Bone  EX 47402  

After Geralt’s death, Jaskier returns to the fae realm, unable to live in the human world without the witcher he loved. When he’s attacked and nearly killed eight centuries later, Jaskier flees back to the human world, where he finds himself face-to-face with Geralt. This Geralt is a redheaded, freckled human with no memory of his life as a witcher or of Jaskier. But as Jaskier gets to know his oldest friend all over again— and starts to fall in love with him all over again— a mysterious enemy threatens both their lives.  

The Red Prince  EX 72,058 SERIES  

Jaskier has lived many lives over the span of humanity's existence, and yet he's still fascinated by them. But when he catches word of Witchers, he has to know more. He follows them, befriends them whenever possible, and saves their lives. They know him as The Red Prince. Bloody-handed and handsome. Some kind of patron saint of Witchers. A legend. A fairy story. The same story Vesemir once told a young Geralt the night before his Trials. And many years later, Jaskier meets a gruff, white haired Witcher known as the Butcher. But the man is no murderer. He's interested. Smitten, even. So he follows the White Wolf on adventure, expecting that at some point he'll have to revive the legend of The Red Prince. Because Witchers get wounded. They die. He won't let that happen to Geralt. Not so long as he can retie the strings of Fate.  

Try, Please Try For Me  EX 131,979 SERIES  

Jaskier was part fae. A quarter to be precise. There was an old superstition among humans that names held power, but for fae it was so much more than that. Names meant control. If you knew a fae’s name, their true name, they would be completely at your will. If someone knew your true name you were nothing more than their servant. A slave. All it took was a single command. When war breaks out between neighboring kingdoms, Jaskier's father uses his true name and commands him to marry a witcher as part of a peace treaty. Neither Jaskier or Geralt are particularly happy with the arrangement. But as Jaskier gets to know him better he realizes that the witcher might just be able to give him the thing he's always craved. Freedom.  

Fair Folk, Or: The Difference Between Honey And Destiny Is That One Of Them Is Sweet  T 35,322 SERIES  

wherein everything is the same, except when it isn’t.  

So Can We Pretend, Sweetly  T 2,131  

Jaskier is a regular human bard, and Geralt could swear that yesterday he’d had regular human teeth. They’re just a little bit too long for his mouth, now- too white, too sharp. A predator’s. Jaskier clicks them together, experimentally, and winces when he bites his tongue. “Fuck anyone you weren’t supposed to?”   

“I don’t fuck anyone I’m supposed to,” Jaskier says, a little proudly.  

Drawing Our Destinies In Closer  T 649 SERIES  

Jaskier encounters a dangerous killer. 

Wróżka  G 2,600  

jaskier has a secret, and geralt is trying to find the clues to figure out what it is.  

When We Bloom (And We Will)  T 12,132 SERIES  

a fic in which geralt acquires a baby, jaskier saves the life of said baby, and ciri insists that she has a new sister until it becomes true.  

In Your Arms, I Am A Wild Creature  T   

A different version of Geralt and Jaskier meet; Geralt is still a witcher— it’s Jaskier who’s different.  

Fae Jaskier  G 964  

This was a request, but it's one of my favorite things I've written so I posted it separate of my ask collection.  

Pray All Ye Meet Are The Gentle Fae  EX 11,631 SERIES  

“It was remarkably foolish of you, witcher,” Jaskier drawled, his glamour gone and the picture of his inhumanity complete. “Stumbling into my clearing like this.” Or: Geralt and Jaskier take a night off to have some fun. Less fun? They're overheard. If only their dirty talk didn't sound so...incriminating.  

A Deal Which Cannot Be Refused  T  

Jaskier got into trouble a lot, that was normal. But not until he was too late to help Jaskier did Geralt ever realise that Jaskier was perfectly capable of solving his own issues. He has the ability to turn a whole argument on its head, unfailingly coming out the victor with a smile on his face, and the slightly burnt scent of pure magic in the air. Every time Geralt asked how exactly he got himself out of some new impossible situation Jaskier had just smiled and offered a well crafted but purposefully vague answer. Usually relating to a deal of some form, or a favour that Geralt didn’t really know if he wanted to know any more details of. Or - Jaskier isn’t quite human, Geralt can tell that much. What he can’t figure out is exactly what Jaskier is.  

Featuring misunderstandings, very confused and slightly oblivious Geralt, morally grey and at times ominously terrifying Jaskier and some healthy doses of angst.  

The Weight Of Life  M 25,855  

A few years after the unfortunate adventure with the dragon hunt, Geralt accidentally runs into Jaskier in the exactly same tavern, where the said adventure began. Maybe it wouldn't be that surprising (we are talking about the travelling bard after all), if Jaskier didn't look and behave so strange. How else can you describe approaching the witcher without making any indication to what has happened on the top of a certain mountain and simply paying him for killing a monster?  

Long Live The King  EX 47,450 SERIES  

Geralt placed the crown on his head before kneeling at his side, and the weight of it felt heavy on Jaskier’s brow. Jaskier’s path to becoming king, takes place five years after the fall of Cintra.  

He Fell Into A Faerie Ring  EX SERIES  

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.- Or -Jaskier accidentally becomes the god of a village he stumbled upon after Geralt’s post-dragon hunt meltdown. Maybe it had something to do with his new look.  

Honey, Where Do You Think I Came From?  M  

It was little things at first. A glare on his face, narrowed eyes and frowning lips, or a comment a touch more cutting than it needed to be. All explained away with simple enough rational: a bad day, lack of sleep. No reason to suspect what truly lay beneath. Looking back, the signs were there. But he didn’t look for what they meant. What the whispered sweet nothings shared in a corner but never taken to a bedroom meant. What the cutting glances and sharp words at an annoying lord meant. What the lack of a dagger tucked away in a boot meant In the beginning, well, he was a simple bard really. Talented, yes, but simple. And that was all.  

A Crown Of Crows  M  

There's something about Jaskier that Geralt can't place. It isn't the bard’s boldness in waltzing up to him, or how he seems strangely unswayed by the witcher's cold front, or even the way he glues himself to Geralt’s side. Jaskier makes Geralt's medallion quiver and tug at its chain any time they touch. Could be that lute of his is enchanted. But Geralt has a funny feeling Jaskier’s hiding something behind that warmhearted smile he finds himself so spellbound by.  

Rues And Bees  G  

Geralt is sick and tired of standing in front of his oak cottage door and peeking through the peep hole as Yennefer stands on the other side, beckoning Geralt to, "Open the door and let me in. It's cold out here," and replying, "You're not Yennefer, she's in the other room, sleeping. I can hear her snoring." So naturally, he does the next big thing: he falls in love with the doppler.  

Through A Field Of Poppies  T 1,060  

Jaskier dies in autumn. Geralt lays him to rest at the edge of a birch grove overlooking a flood plain on the northern banks of the Pontar. He remembers the place, now gilded in the afternoon sun by wayward wheat having made its way to the rich river soil, where his bard had once pressed a ring into his palm (“How about this,” he’d said. “You keep this near and I’ll know you still want me at your side.” And Geralt had closed his fingers around it thinking he’d take ten thousand golden trinkets just to be gifted with that smile) and he knows that come spring it’ll be a meadow thick with wildflowers. The next time he sees Jaskier, he reaches for silver.  

I Want To Know You  T 2,980  

Four questions that they ask each other over the years they spend together. Jaskier herded him to a table when their drinks were on their hands, talking more nonsense and pulling out of the Witcher the information of the monster he was after. The human seemed to take a weird interest in what Geralt did for a living considering his species who preferred to have the whole continent between them and one of Geralt's kind.  

Sunk But Sinking  NR  

He wakes up with a tightness in his chest, the reason for it revealed as soon as he opens his eyes. It’s not light yet, not exactly, but the fire is long gone and the cold had enough time to settle in his bones. He’s aching more than most mornings, but maybe it’s just the weather’s fault. Jaskier grunts and pushes Geralt’s hand off his chest, the unreasonable panic not quite evaporating from him at the same speed as the details of his nightmare.  

He Sleeps In His Bed (While He Plays Pretend)  M 34,049  

When Yennefer leaves him, Geralt comes back to Jaskier, heart in his hand, anger, hurt, and heartbreak bleeding from it. Geralt grieves his love life with his eyes closed, his body bare and fucking into his bard, Yennefer's name on his lips. On the other hand, as months pass, Geralt's begins to fall in love with Jaskier himself, leaving a huge misunderstanding his wake.  

Ensnared  EX 32,014  

Geralt is hired to hunt a creature that has been terrorising the local hunters and traders of Belhaven. He heads into Caed Myrkvid and finds more than he bargained for  

This Isn't The Beginning Of A Joke, This Is The Beginning Of A Love Song...  EX  

Jaskier sings Renfri and Yennefer to life and doesn't think enough about the effect it could have on two powerful women. And the effect it could have on him. After all; he's the first music note ever heard, not a fertility god.And everybody knows Witchers are made, not born.  

No No, Not I  T  

Geralt meats Fae!Jaskier due to a slight misunderstanding (or maybe its destiny messing with them?) and when Jaskier hurts his wing they are kind of stuck together for a while. It’s a journey that not only brings them in more and more danger and to unknown magical places but it also brings them closer together, if they want to admit it or not. The Fae is annoying Geralt to no end but he can’t just let him die, can he? Jaskier saw the jagged edge of the stone a fraction of a second too late and he couldn't stop himself from stepping on it with his bare feet. He hissed in pain, baring his fangs. “Wait, damn it,” a deep voice behind him demanded but he would not obey. He wouldn't dream of obeying the command of a monster that wanted to kill him.  

Namesake Retrograde  EX  

'Fifty years of meticulously crafted lies become dust in the wind before Jaskier can realize what's happening. Distantly, he thinks he hears the tonal crack of shattering crystal, before his mouth rushes with hot saliva and bottom drops out from his stomach.' Jaskier's glamour is obliterated. It goes worse than expected.  

Welcome, Oh Summer Love  G 2,390 SERIES  

After leaving Geralt and making a home in a fairy circle somewhere deep in a forgotten wood, Jaskier learns to move on. He makes a home in that stone ring, detached from the world and his worries. That is, until Geralt stumbles into his ring looking haggard and weary, trailing a lost princess behind him. Should Jaskier stay silent in his tree, let them pass by him as he rests? Will he finally face the love he'd run away from? 

With Romantic Intent  M 8,934 SERIES  

Jaskier decides that it's finally time to start courting Geralt. He just needs to make it obvious enough that the silly man will take the hint — and, in the process, figure out that he was never quite as human as Geralt thought.  

Of Music And Motion And Love  T 12,412 SERIES  

When Jaskier was four, he slipped his mother’s watch and went to the field to gather a bouquet of dandelions. He climbed back into the yard, as stealthy as a child really cared to be, and crept over to the barn. In the barn, lived a secret. (The man he thought his father said the secret was a monster, a plague. His mother said the secret was his sister.) OR Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother.  

I Come Round Back To You  M 15,567  

He is fifty and there is a man in the corner of a tavern in Posada who hasn’t moved save for the rise and fall of his tankard to his sculpted lips. Julian knows what he is before he knows to know. He should have started chasing monsters sooner.  

Where We Belong  T  

Geralt had many uses for the parasite living inside him. Jaskier could heal bones and regenerate a limbs like it was nothing, could eat the heads of monsters faster than a Witcher could draw his sword; even help Geralt breathe underwater if they so wished. Jaskier was a blessing in disguise if one forgone the constant hunger that came with hosting them. It was not, however, nearly enough to have to sit through the twice-damned singing and chatter inside his fucking skull.  

There's Magic In A Bard's Song (O Lei O Lai O Lei O Lord)  T   

There’s something different about the way the bard sings. There is something underlying his voice, his music. It bothers Geralt.  

As Daylight Dies  T  

The Witcher keeps to himself, gaze downcast, gloved hand extended to his tankard to keep within his lips' reach.  

"Are the stories true?"  

"Depends." The voice that comes from under the hood is deep, a wolf's growl and grunt. The White Wolf, an apt name for the man. A different, darker meeting between Geralt of Rivia and Jaskier. It's going to get darker.  

Once Written In The Stars  EX  

When Geralt accidentally trespasses on a fae forest, only the unexpected kindness of one of the forest's inhabitants saves him. Unfortunately, it also leaves him saddled with a travel companion who has never really met a human, let alone thought about how to play at being one. It goes about as well as you'd think.  

Will You Be Coming Home?  M 52,104  

At fifteen, Julian hires a bodyguard and runs away. At twenty, he's quite happy. At twenty-five, he's fucked.  

(Don't Ask Me) To Follow Where You Lead  M  

Bitter irony that Jaskier had fallen for him despite knowing that his freedom was linked to Geralt wanting him gone deep down more than he wanted him to stay – if Jaskier ever got what his heart yearned for, he'd lose even more than Geralt's affections in the same breath. In that sense, Geralt's words on top of that mountain were a blessing, for all that Jaskier did not at all agree with being blamed for things that were in no way his fault. For someone who had held someone else's fate in his hands for almost all of the years he had walked this earth, Geralt was surprisingly scared of destiny and way too concerned with running from it in vain. Jaskier could and actually had sung several songs about how escaping destiny was impossible – her cruel claws would sink into you one way or another, running from it was nothing but a waste of breath. 

Honey, Bread and Summer Flowers  G 910  

Geralt and Jaskier meet at a crossroads. Neither is what he seems.  

Can’t You See I’m Unholy?  T 1,006 SERIES  

Jaskier was dead. Oddly enough, that’s the part he could handle. The part he couldn’t handle, the part that he’s never been able to handle, is the aftermath. The rebirth. -In which Jaskier is a demon that can’t ever fully die and Geralt is witness to his resurrection.  

Upon The Waking Of The Spring  T 2,074 SERIES  

When Spring comes along, and brings with it new life, Jaskier finds the man with white hair asleep on a bed of violets. And, though they’re not meant to meddle with the Fates of humans, Jaskier just can not resist.  

Like Real People Do  T 3,989 SERIES  

“Are you hiring me, girl?”  

After a beat of silence, the two staring at each other, she stands tall and scoops the coin into her apron pocket and shakes her head. “No, Witcher, I don’t believe I am. Just thought you should know is all.”  

He sighs out a breath through his nose, looking away. He grips the mug still in his hand a bit stronger and brings it to his lips.  

“It’s the wood near your professor is why I thought you should know.”  

Not Quite Right  M   

The meat suit ages around him. He can feel it grow every passing year, stretching and contorting over a too-big entity. The original soul died far before it was born into this world. It allowed him to step in and takes its place. His brethren are like vines that choke out trees, retaining their shape even as the mighty oaks or pines wither and die beneath them. He is like a weed with a lovely flower atop it. Mistaken for something meant for a bouquet, but even when identified, still plucked for flower crowns or innocent gifts. He calls himself Jaskier.  

The God Of Scraped Knees.  M 8,342 

Jaskier’s been pretending to be human for so long now that he hardly remembers what it feels like to be a sorcerer. He doesn’t want to remember what it feels like to be a sorcerer. But people still murmur his name with reverence in certain dim halls; Dandelion, Dandelion, destroyer of worlds.    

Blue And Yellow, Blue And Gold  T 4,292  

There is a blue-eyed boy living in Geralt's shadow.  

Fallen For A Lie  T 6,995  

It was a long time before Geralt suspected anything. Geralt had been trained to notice such things at Kaer Morhen, and had gone years, decades even, without missing something as large as this. He could hear Vesemir shouting now at Geralt’s blindness, unexplainable aside from the locked away knowledge that this had escaped his attentions because he liked the way Jaskier chattered at him, the coin he brought in from his little tunes, liked him. Any bizarre incident that arose was brushed aside in favor of Jaskier’s easy company. And there had been many incidents.  

What's Mine Is Yours  T 7,506 SERIES  

Jaskier had always had a set of lungs to rival the North wind. By the time he was old enough to put words to his wailing, his poor mother’s head was grey and her heart torn by the babe who had never once stopped crying. There wasn’t a healer or witch she took him to who didn’t say the same thing: there was nothing to fix. They could treat a bruise, bandage the reflections of another’s injuries that sometimes echoed onto his skin, but there was no curing pain that wasn’t his.  

Edge Of Nowhere  T 1,361 SERIES  

Jaskier needed no introduction to Geralt of Rivia, not when he knows who this Witcher is on sight. On the other hand, this is his opportunity to make a new and different name for himself, a guise within a disguise, and perhaps fame that'll hide the secrets that he keeps.  

Wolf & Songbird  T  

“Do I not warm you when it’s cold?” asks Geralt. “Feed you when you’re hungry, carry you when you’ve had too much too drink?”  

“Well,” says Jaskier. He gulps. “But you never said anything.”  

They may be destined to meet in every universe, but they always stay together by choice. 

And The Seasons, They Go Round And Round  T 2,938  

Taking hold of his emotions enough so he won’t begin shouting, Geralt stands before Jaskier, arms crossed protectively around his beating heart. “What are you?” he growls.  

With a heavy sigh, Jaskier leans on his elbows and peers up at Geralt. “Do you know the story of the seasons Geralt?” Jaskier inquires.  

In which Jaskier isn't all he appears and his rivalry with Valdo Marx is a bit more complicated than Geralt realized. 

Dear Fellow Traveler  EX 39,567  

Geralt had a rule: he refused to accept anything but coin for his work, no matter what was being offered to him. So when a man offered him a creature by the name of Jaskier, he elected to say no. After several incidents left the two no choice but to become traveling companions when they are forced to go on the run, things begin to change between the pair as they struggle to find a way for Jaskier to return to his home. 

The Man From Oxenfurt  M  

Jaskier is an assassin from the school of Oxenfurt, assigned a target with no name, picture, or any information besides the target's species (witcher) and the fact that he trained under Vesemir. His luck changes when he meets another witcher from the same school in a tavern in Posada, and he vows that he'll build a life with Geralt with the money from this last assignment. If only it could be that easy. 

Granted  EX 12,314 SERIES  

Jaskier feels it the moment the words leave Geralt’s lips. A rush of energy flooding from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. ‘Oh no,’ he thinks. The magic spills from him like wine from a glass and before he can grab it, it’s done. He’s bound. Geralt’s wish has been granted.  

Lord Of The Forest  NR 7,521 SERIES  

Jaskier is not human, he is Lord of the Forest, and post season 1 episode 6, he returns to his natural form to wreak vengeance on Geralt.   

Pathway To Your Lips  EX 5,5145 

Geralt meets with Lord Pankratz about a monster in the forest of his duchy. In the process, he meets Jaskier, the Lord's son who is always dressed in a most extravagant manner. Amidst chaos at the dinner time and troubling thoughts, Geralt gears up to fight the monster he has been hired to kill.  

Into The Woods  G 1,318  

Geralt gets lost in the woods. But there's someone -- or something -- else following him.  

Like Real People Do  G 55,687  

A twilight that refuses to wane, the lingering scent of clean, bitter dandelion milk, and a strange man buried deep in the soil of a peaceful bog. Or, Geralt finds a traveling companion in the strangest of places.  

Muse Of White And Gold  G 1,573 SERIES  

It’s been a week and the person is still following him. What’s more, they haven’t attacked yet. Geralt isn’t quite sure what to do with this. OR Jaskier sees Geralt slay a beast and is instantly drawn to the stunning man of white and gold.  

Play Out A Spell In Your Sequence Of Chords (To Inspire And Sharpen Our Rusted Swords)  T 10,813 

Geralt cocked his head to the side curiously to regard the chittering fox caught in the hunter's trap. The beast had deep chestnut fur and eerily bright blue eyes. He knelt, and the creature hissed at him, baring his teeth in fear.  

"I mean you no harm," he rumbled, hands palm-up. His swords were at his campsite, regardless. He reached forward slowly, and the fox didn't move, though it's teeth remained bared. It was a simple matter to pry open the trap, and the fox leapt away, chattering its teeth at him. Their eyes met for a long moment, amber to fantastical blue, and the fox dashed off.  

Sighing faintly, hands resting on his knees, Geralt bowed his head tiredly. He rolled his neck to crack it, and rose to his feet to shuffle his way back to his camp.  

Set out neatly next to his bedroll were three cleanly gutted rabbits, and Geralt paused in surprise. Roach whinnied softly, and stamped a hoof. A crown of golden wheat rested primly between her ears.  

Ah. Fae, then. Services paid for services rendered. Hopefully the fae would consider them even, now, but something in him doubted it.  

Left Alone  T 7,026  

There's almost something between them, Jaskier can see it. An almost relationship. Almost love. That's why the sight of Geralt and Yennefer shatters his heart, leaving him broken and alone and in pain. And well, all there's left to do is go home.  

While Jaskier reunites with his siblings and remembers what's it like to hold his blades, Geralt looks for a way to break what the djin made. And well, Destiny wants them together so, in the end, they always come back to each other.  

Farewell Wanderlust  T 1,124  

After being left on the mountain, fae!jaskier goes dark. Geralt is contracted to take out the dark fae tormenting the village, unbeknownst to him that it is his old friend.  

Of Home And Gentle Hands  G 1,582 SERIES  

It’s been almost a year since Jaskier started travelling with Geralt, and he still can’t believe his luck. Geralt is having trouble understanding the way he’s feeling. Meanwhile, Yennefer shows up with a job offer. Travelling with Geralt, Jaskier decides, is far better when he’s allowed to walk next to him rather than stuck to following him from a distance. From this close, he’s able to see different things, things he never noticed from afar.  

Normal Human? Never Heard Of Him.  EX 6,955  

Three times Jaskier acts suspicious and one time Geralt gets his mind blown.  

What Is A Monster?  G 996 SERIES  

“You’re not a monster.”  

Geralt sighs, and puts his sword away. Kissing Jaskier’s head, he wants to say a million things, I’m not a monster to you, you make me feel normal, I love that’s how you see me but reality is different, I love you, but he understands that what would make Jaskier feel better is none of that. What he wants, needs, is far simpler, “I know.”  

Welcome To The Storm, I Am Thunder  EX 4,239  

They've barely left the tavern in Posada before Geralt has made up his mind about Jaskier. He's annoying and persistent, has zero sense of self-preservation, talks too much and is, first and foremost, painfully, vulnerably human. The next few weeks prove almost all of those things to be true—all but one.  

Look What You've Done To Me  M   

Jaskier can't ignore who he really is, and Geralt's not sure he can either.  

A Rose, But Only One  T SERIES  

A retelling of the ballad Tam Lin wherein Jaskier is Tam Lin.  

Witness Me, Old Man, I Am The Wild  T 1,787 SERIES  

Jaskier always asks to stop whenever they reach meadows, to cut as many flowers as he can manage. He usually aims for white heather and feverfew, and Geralt usually ends up with some threaded through his hair. He assumes at first it’s just Jaskier’s restless fingers and part of his campaign to change Geralt’s image. It takes him nearly three years, and a fight with a higher vampire, to realise there's more to it than that.  

Surprises Surprises  T 2,832 SERIES  

Yennefer isn't sure what's so special about the human bard that the Witcher cares so much, but she intends to find out. They meet again and again and again, and each time she sees more and more. Turns out there are more than a few surprises there  

Changeling Jaskier  T 1,022 SERIES  

Jaskier was far more observant and aware than most people gave him credit for, after all he had grown up among the fae and had gotten himself his freedom. He also knew Geralt better than the witcher thought he did, and he was not above using that knowledge when the man was doing something stupid.  

I’m Lost, I’m Found In You  T 1,190 SERIES  

Meeting Geralt of Rivia had initially been quite the shock. The man offered up his name so easily, thinking nothing of it, and everything in Jaskier’s body screamed mine mine mine. It wasn’t as if he didn’t get first names on a daily basis. But that was from humans, gullible creatures that had forgotten the tales of the fae, the warnings, choosing to live in blissful ignorance. But Geralt was a Witcher. Surely he could smell what Jaskier truly was, if not see through his glamour entirely. And yet…Jaskier felt his instincts awaken and tingle with joy - his mind was begging him to take, use, own this beautiful man with his name. But Jaskier gave up that life long ago.  

I Am Flesh And I Am Bone  T 2,601  

Geralt is pretty sure Jaskier isn’t quite human. He has a list of evidence, really, he does. And it starts with a petty challenge issued by Jaskier one night at a tavern. The list grows from there.  

His Love, Soft And Sweet  G 754 SERIES  

"I'm going to die," he says, voicing the thought aloud. "This is the end of me, dear heart. My final moments, the finale, the fine. Remember me fondly as you continue your journey down the Path—"   

"You're not going to die, Jaskier," Geralt interrupts him with exasperation. "It's a fever, that's all."  

A Wilted Warning  T 1,071 SERIES  

After the initial discussion, Geralt decides it’s best if he explores the woods surrounding the village. There’s only one issue…  

“I told you to stay in the room.”  

“And I told you I’m coming with you. How else am I going to write my songs?”  

OR Jaskier and Geralt search the woods for the culprit. Geralt gets to learn more about Jaskier, even if the bard is acting a bit strange... Well stranger than usual.  

Day By Day  G 1,261 SERIES  

Jaskier has been alive for a long time, has met his fair share of witchers and sorceresses and even Princesses. Some were dumb, some were smart, and some were somewhere in the middle. However, none were so completely dense that they didn't realize he wasn't human by the end of a five-year friendship. He's known Geralt for twenty years. Geralt still hasn't caught on. Now, Jaskier isn't saying Geralt is dumb because the man is obviously very intelligent, but Geralt is…. Well, he's dumb. Jaskier loves him, would sacrifice immortality for him, but his witcher is very stupid.  

The Curse Of The Fae-Child  T  

“I… there’s an estate, half an hour up north,” Jaskier started, avoiding Geralt’s questioning gaze. “It’s not on the map, but there’s a chance they won’t kill us if we ask for shelter. Don’t ask me to elaborate, if I am wrong we’ll simply find somewhere else and forget about it forever.” Forced to go back to his childhood home, Jaskier is soon tasked with some fae nonsense, because fairies do not exist... right?  

A Midwinter's Daydream  G 1,396  

“Either I mistake your shape entirely, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite called Julian Goodfellow?” Her laugh tinkles on the breeze, shrill to his ears. “Are you not sheep-stealer, milk ruiner, or wife stealer? Come sprite, I recognise thine face.” Her pale hand stretches out to pluck a delicate yellow flower from his hair, “or should I call you Jaskier, or sweet puck, and then will you bring me luck?”  

He matches her pitched giggles with a sharp strum of his lute, bowing low in mockery. “Thou speak’st aright! I am that merry wanderer of the night."  

Check Mate, Valdo Marx  T 1,227  

The sanctuary of Kaer Morhen was broken so much sooner than Geralt had hoped. He had a sorceress and three other witchers on his side to fight the whole army of Nilfgaard. All while a bard hid out in the pantry with his child surprise and a dagger in hand with instructions to use it when their last defence had fallen. Except, Jaskier was going to have none of that. He had won this round fair, Valdo was just a sore loser.  

The Voice Beloved By The Trees  NR  

“Why do you not like the forest, mama?” Julian had asked her once, age nine, knees pressed in the mud beside her. His mother sat demurely upon a rich blanket of gold and sky blue—the colors of their house. He remembered, briefly, how her fingers stilled at his question, though careful not to bruise the bud of the flower she was attending.  

“It’s not safe,” His mother had said simply, her blue eyes much too bright. She plucked the scissors up off her white saffron gown and quickly snipped a mature bloom, placing it tenderly in her wicker basket. A basket that was always full of flowers: roses, forget-me-nots, orchids, and the handfuls of dandelions that Julian snuck in—his mother's favorite name for him. For the wild boy with mud on his shins and rumpled riches. Her little Jaskier.  

On The Wings Of Love  EX 5,420 SERIES  

After spending the winter in Kaer Morhen, Geralt and Jaskier get on with their travels again, and Geralt gets to see Jaskier in all of his Fae glory - the good, the bad and the weird. Somewhere along the way they get married, acquire a child and meet a djin. Somehow, they're all good things.  

Wolf's Temper  M  

Geralt never expected himself to be stuck traveling with a werewolf, but when one night of drinking with Jaskier turns into a secret being revealed Geralt realizes what this means for him as a person and as a Witcher. He needs to protect Jaskier at all costs.  

You Don't Have To Hide From Me  T 1,737 SERIES  

Geralt had always known, something was different with Jaskier but he hadn't been able to say what it was until the day they slept together for the firs time  

Curiosity And The Cat  T 2,834  

Jaskier had always been different from everyone else. Odd, loyal, and a touch too curious for his own good. Or Geralt isn't sure what kind of being Jaskier is but one night while hunting a werewolf, his bard's persistence leads to a great deal of trouble.  

Through The Desert  M 3,397 SERIES  

Jaskier is hungry for the world - even before he flirts with the wrong woman and gets turned into a vampire. Jaskier is not a bard anymore, he is a creature. (And witchers kill creatures, don't they?)  

Could Be, Will Be, Maybe?  T 6,445  

“Do you want to hold her?” The princess doesn’t really wait for Jaskier’s answer; simply deposits the little babe into his arms, and Jaskier scrambles to hold her right, sneaking a hand to delicately cradle the head. She’s so small, he thinks to himself a little hysterically, and then, in quick succession, Geralt is going to love her. Or: the story of how Jaskier visits Cintra over the years, and carves lasting bonds with Pavetta, with Ciri - and finds himself as bound to Geralt as if Destiny herself had twined their fates together.  

A Buttercup Plucked From The Side Of The Road  NR  

Alfred Pankratz is barely two years into his professorship when he finds a boy passed out by the side of the road leading to Oxenfurt. A small, adorable child with a buttercup tucked into his hair. Alfred Pankratz is 27 years old and can be described as many things, whimsical, flighty, headstrong but not as father material. He's not fit to be a father, he's not. He'll take Jaskier to the healer and then the orphanage as soon as the healer is done with him. Aforementioned healer raises an amused eyebrow, “You’ve named him?” Fuck he's already named him. Mentally, he rearranges his plans for the next decade or two. By sunset Alfred has already filled out the necessary papers, informed his colleagues, bought new children's clothes and cleared out a room in his quarters. He brushes his new son’s, Jaskier’s, hair out of his sleeping face and sighs a deeply resigned sigh. It will be the first of man  

The Heart Is A Muscle  T 31,045  

The one where Jaskier is fae, Geralt can’t connect the dots to save his life, and, with some help, the pair discover what it means to find your true family.  

Masquerade As The Love Of Your Life  EX 20,667 

“As you know, Nilfgaard is pressuring Kaedwen borders. Our lands are struggling.” Vesemir has his arms crossed over his chest, his face stony. “We have a very promising solution but it’s also our least favourable.”  

The Highest Reward  T 2,240 SERIES  

“What do you want in return?”  

The fae’s smile was anything but reassuring. “Oh, nothing you will miss. Nothing you have ever wanted. I only ask for your first child.”  

His Bard, Eternal  EX 3,678  

Geralt is just about to Kaer Morhen with Ciri when he comes across a village that desperately needs his help. He continues taking Ciri to Kaer Morhen so she is safe before turning back to take the job offer. There, he comes across a familiar bard that he had not seen since the dragon hunt with Borch. Can he make things better? Is Jaskier willing to forgive him? Find out here!  

Make Them Hear You  M 2,514 SERIES  

The first year Jaskier goes to Kaer Morhen, he's struck almost dumb by the pain of the keep, the losses it's seen, and the cries of the land. There's little he can do to help, but what little he can, he will.  

Thomas The Rhymer  T 37,401  

Jaskier, heartbroken and banished from his Witcher's side, finds himself employed by the Fae Queen for seven years. In return for teaching music lessons and performing for guests of the Seelie Court, she promises the bard a longer life, knowledge of the Faerie Tongue, and an escape from the pain that haunts his shattered mortal heart. After seven years of searching the world over for his bard, Geralt stumbles upon a familiar face in a clearing. A man with cornflower blue eyes, wavy brown hair, slightly pointed ears, and absolutely no memory whatsoever of the White Wolf.  

Iron Blood  T   

It’s inevitable that it would’ve happened, sooner or later. He’d imagined that it would be at the hands of some mercenary or a hunter, though. He presses his eyes closed, hissing against the smell of burning flesh as it tears through his throat. In which Jaskier pretends Geralt doesn't know anything, and Geralt tries to court a fae.  

Love/Home/Heart T 34,851

Jaskier remembers his birth. Or rather he remembers his first breaths in this world. A woman, unrelated to him by blood but his mother all the same, pulls him wailing out of the ground. He feels her joy and the stench of old magic in the air, the… the knowledge is gone. Contrary to popular belief, thank you Lambert, Geralt was not stupid. As soon as he’d walked into the Tavern in Posada, he’d known something was different about the bard. After an encounter with a Djinn, Yennefer finds herself with a Fae indebted to her. They keep running into each other.

Fingertip Distance. NR

People didn’t like to touch Geralt unless it was for a purpose. To hand him coin so he could deal with a couple of pesky monsters, to try and best him in a fight, or to lay with him for a night after they’ve been paid. People didn’t like touching Geralt, but Jaskier isn’t people. Jaskier touches him all the time, when he’s drunk and trying to regain his balance, when he’s tired and needs someone to lean on, when he needs Geralt’s attention he will press his fingertips to Geralt’s elbow. And Geralt? He finds himself fixating on those fingertips. Yennefer has warned him, told him that his control wasn’t as good as he thought it was, but as Jaskier stares at him, wide eyed and open mouthed Geralt can only hide his head in shame and blame the summer heat. For all the times Jaskier might have touched him, this is the first time Geralt reciprocated.

Escaped My T 17,005

Jaskier followed Geralts wish, of course he would grant his friends' one final request to leave. Jaskier was done with singing, after all his friend hadn't thought much of it, instead used his silver tongue for other things- much less honourable things. What did it matter Geralt was gone anyway so no one could tell him to stop.

His Name Means Air T 7,062 SERIES

Always too loud and too bright, Jaskier believes that he’s a changeling. He also believes that if Geralt finds out, he’ll kill him.

Out Of The Night That Covers Me EX 37,820 SERIES

Jaskier has begrudgingly agreed to accompany Geralt to Kaer Morhen for the winter. He has not, however, agreed to being up front about his true nature. Meeting the family is stressful enough without the threat of a painful death.

You Wingless Thing M 26,650

So, Geralt saves the terrorizing for the actual noble lord, and makes himself as unthreatening as possible. Contrary to popular belief, he isn’t a savage, bloodthirsty beast, and he’d rather this boy not be raised under that falsehood - though, it’s likely no matter what Geralt does that he will.The boy’s voice stutters as he looks up at Geralt, words coming out too fast and heart beating rabbit-fast. “S-sir, Lord Erynd requests your presence.” Geralt gets a contract in a town called Eristan, but it turns out the only monster there is human.

The Price Of Wanting M

He hadn't the imagination to build a human from scratch at the time, when he decided that no other shape would truly suffice, so he acquired one in the grand tradition of his people. He had offered the mortal a trade, as one did, and in return for his aid, he was granted his name: Julian Alfred Pankratz.

[petew21-blog]

Great Shift stories, Henry and Joey

Paparazzi:"Gentlemen, smile. Look to the right. Yeah. Good"

Henry and Joey were at the front of the hall, where the press conference was about to be held, before the release of the new Witcher season. They were all instructed to suit up and arrive. Henry felt like he was betraying Joey. They were about to announce soon, that he was leaving the Witcher TV series and passing the role to Liam Hemsworth. Henry didn't want to continue playing Geralt if the story wouldn't be more faithful to the books. Unfortunately, Joey already signed his contract and therefore had to play Jaskier for another year without Henry.

They stood next to each other. Joey couldn't pretend that he was happy. He was angry, because Henry didn't tell him soon enough how he felt and that he was leaving, trapping Joey in a job he started to hate. He felt betrayed

Back then nobody knew what happened in the following moments. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was intentional. But all they knew was that suddenly all around them was pure chaos. The whole city confused and screaming. Most of the planet swapped bodies with someone standing close to them. Some were very unlucky, in some cases the swap was lethal or caused many people to die. But some people got really lucky. Just like Joey and Henry here

They were obviously both shocked when they found themselves in each other's bodies. But they were interrupted by the people around them screaming and shouting at each other.

Joey in Henry's body:"Henry? Is that you? I'm you!"

Henry in Joey's body:"Is this real? Is it really happening?"

Joey:"I think it is. And I don't think we're the only ones. Maybe we should go somewhere more quiet."

Joey starts walking away, but as soon as Henry moves his body a sharp pain shoots from the back of his body.

Henry:"Ah fuck. Wait. There's something wrong. It feels like..."

Joey started smiling, realising.

Henry didn't find the pain that bad anymore and was slowly figuring out, what it was.

Henry:"Joey? Is that what I think it is?"

Joey:"I don't know what you're talking about"

Henry started laughing at his old face

Henry:"Hahahaha. No you didn't. Holy shit you're naughty, Joey. You really went to a press con with a dildo up your ass? Wow. I never thought that you'd be able to do this."

Joey:"Maybe we should go?"

Henry:"Oh fuck, we are. I really need to take a proper look at that thing stuck inside of me now "

Joey went first and couldn't stop smiling, as he heard Henry struggling to walk properly

But Henry was getting more and more into it. He never had a dildo up his ass. And this one was BIG.

They got into an empty hotel room nearby.

Joey went to the bathroom first to piss and left Henry outside. Henry started throwing his clothes off to the ground. But stopped, once he felt the thing in him move. He got on his knees and felt his own ass trying to push it in and out. An overwhelming feeling caused him to moan out loud and hold ok tightly to the bed sheets.

He heard the bathroom door open

Joey:"You wanna use the bathroom?"

Henry got up and without saying a word went to the bathroom while grabbing his old body's cheeks playfully on the way.

He wanted to look at himself in the mirror, but he needed the dildo to move. He needed to find a better position. But another unwanted movement caused him to collapse into the bath still in his clothes.

He just sat there leaning on the edges of the bath, moving his ass up and down in the air. Causing the dildo to move up and down. He was now covered in sweat. His body was begging to be fucked

Joey:"You need some help with that?" He pointed at his ass

Henry needed to be fucked. And there was a thing much better than the dildo in his ass

He leaned to the front and grabbed his old semi-hard bulge looking seductively into his old eyes

Henry:"Whip it out big boy. You got a hole to patch. And I need it"

Joey:"Are you sure you..."

Henry:"Fuck me right now!!!"

Joey threw off his pants and boxers. Leaving himself in Henry's Grey shirt only

Henry:"I want you to show me how you can be better than that dildo"

Joey:"I'm not really sure about this"

Henry:"Please just fuck me already. I can't take this anymore"

Joey helped Henry to take off his clothes. He turned him around to let him hold the edge of the bath. He then grabbed the base off the dildo and started moving it up and down rythmically. Henry was moaning in pleasure. No, he was screaming

As soon as Joey got hard, he pulled out the dildo and showed his new huge dick into his old ass. Henry couldn't even tell the difference. But now it was warmer, pulsating. And Joey was pounding him.

They were now one. Combined. Sweaty. Joey was deep inside of Henry moving his intestines.

Henry:"Ah ah ah ah. Fuck me... I need you"

Joey couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out his new dick and shoot the load at his old back.

He was breathing rapidly from the fast tempo. Henry was still holding on. But Joey moved his head to the side and noticed his old dick leaking cum

Joey smiled. Yeah, fuck the betrayal. He's gonna be punishing him for that very often from now own.

Anonymous inbox request:

What about the great shift strikes. And everyone is swapped with the closest person at the moment. A story where henry cavill gets swapped with joey batey before some press con. And henry finds that joey's body has a dildo up his ass and he's so turned up that he begs joey to fuck him.

[blooms-in-april]

"Here."

Jaskier looks up from his lute to see Eskel holding the reins of a horse so beautiful it looks like a pearlescent moon.

"She's for you." Eskel says.

Jaskier moves as if in a dream, taking the reins of the albino mare. Eskel continues, the words flowing.

"She was a steal, blemished. Someone cut her deep in the head and sides. But I thought you'd find that romantic, you know. Make a wounded unicorn out of her marks. And you need a horse and you like pretty things. It made sense to me."

The chords of his throat knot, cut short. Jaskier draws his fingers through the white mare's mane, lute callouses catching on hair white as snow. He picks at a stuck burr and his heart clenches with the familiarity of the movement .

"Why couldn't it have been you?" He says.

Eskel stops abruptly. There is something wild and despairing in the bards voice, a reclamation of destiny.

"Why couldn't it have been you I met in Posada all those years ago?" Jaskier says. "Where were you twenty years ago? Where were you ten? Where were you when I was young and green and full of music?Of course I meet you now,"

He laughs, and there is no melody in it.

"Of course I meet you now, when I am full and sick of loving. You would have been- kind, when you finally sent me away. You would have killed it quickly, killed the dream quiet and fast, in my sleep, like a horse with a broken leg too weak to stand."

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Okay so after the mountain breakup Geralt wants to apologize but he’s not sure how too. When he goes home for the winters he’s much more grumpy then usual and his brother and vesmir can smell his angsting. It take them nearly all winter to figure out why Geralt is so sad, but when they do they try and help.

All three of them try to figure out a way to have Geralt apologize. But they are Witchers and treat this in the same way they treat a monster hunt. They also don’t understand humans, and Geralt isn’t really that helpful as Jaskier is so different from humans.

When they finally come up with a decent plan, that has backups of course — “what if he escapes out a window instead of listening to Geralt?”

“Humans don’t jump out of widows lambert, they wouldn’t survive”

“Hmm no Jask jumped out of a three story widow when he heard that Valdo Marx was in the same building.”

“Fuck, we got to block out all the exits”

— Geralt sets out to apologize, and unbeknownst to him Lambert and Eskel follow him. They decide that since Geralt bard is well a bard, Geralt obviously needs to serenade him as he apologizes. (Ye old boombox)

So they buy cheap instruments and lay in wait. When Geralt finally starts to apologize it comes off awkward they jump in and start play horribly. They are both sing two different songs while they play hit cross buns. — “I fucked up and now I’m an angsty bastard without you, please fuck me again.”

“Lambert shut the fuck up, the lyric we agreed too was I’m deathly in love with you and being without you leaves me heart broken and berate” — It’s not really a surprise though lambert only followed to make fun of Geralt, while Eskel is a true romantic at heart.

They end up getting into a fist fight, in front of one mortified Geralt and dying laughing Jaskier. but while they are distracted with fighting each other Geralt pulls Jaskier aside and properly apologizes. It’s a sweet moment and they are both slightly crying — “I know that you may never forgive me, but I wish for you to travel with me again, to be better for you, to you.

“Geralt I forgave you two days after the mountain, I missed you too.” — Coen appears out of nowhere with a flower bouquet and gives it Jaskier and claims it’s from Geralt. He also kisses Jaskier hand before stepping away. Geralt nearly decks him. Jaskier makes a joke about swooning over Coen, so Geralt in a fit of confidence kisses him.

Next winter when Geralt brings Jaskier to the keep, they roast his ass. There isn’t a day that goes by without lambert or Eskel bringing up how angsty Geralt was last winter. Jokes on them they don’t have someone like Jaskier to wake up too.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 57

Jaskier likes hugs. Like a lot. Like dozens a day, a lot. Which is why it's so odd when Jaskier suddenly stops touching Geralt unless he he absolutely has to. Geralt is admittedly getting quite jealous, however, because Jaskier hasn't stopped touching anyone and everyone else. Has the horror of being a witcher finally set in for the bard? Is he disgusted to so much as lay a finger on him, now? Geralt starts just being concerned about it, however, when Jaskier keeps almost hugging him. So Jaskier clearly wants to hug him, but refuses to do so. Did someone say something? Is he worried about Geralt? He worries for Geralt an awful lot. Oh fuck, is he cursed? Geralt finally breaks and asks (demands) Jaskier why he stopped hugging him, when Jaskier clearly still wants to. "It's because you hate it! Obviously! I- I'm trying to be a good friend!" Geralt knows he can be a bit stoic, but he thought Jaskier would take the fact that Geralt hugs back and doesn't shove him away as more than enough motivation to keep doing what makes him so happy. "I never felt so bad. I really thought you had no problem with me being so- So clingy. If I had known better, I wouldn't! Honest, Geralt!" "Why do you think I have a 'problem' with it?" "You growled at me!" Oh fuck. He purred. Jaskier doesn't know he can purr.

[thedemonofcat]

Jaskier never makes promises. He literally never says the word “promise”, and he swears no oaths.

It’s a subtle quirk. It takes Geralt years to notice. When he points it out, Jaskier says with false levity, “I guess I don’t.”

From the bard’s body language, Geralt can see he doesn’t want to talk about it, so the topic is dropped.

Years later—after Geralt screams his fury at Jaskier—the bard says in a broken voice, “Don’t worry, Geralt. I promise not to bother you anymore.”

The promise sears itself onto Geralt’s soul like a brand. One made of chaos, and he can feel it become binding.

Geralt whips around, but Jaskier was gone.

There are a few moments of confusion before Geralt realizes what just happened. Jaskier had promised, and that promise was sealed with chaos. Only the Fae had such an ability.

Twilight had begun to settle over the sky, casting the world in soft hues of purple and blue. Just beyond the edge of the trees, Geralt stood watching a ring of mushrooms, a small bowl of berries already set nearby.

"Spirits of earth and air, fae folk so fair, I call upon you with kindness and care. From meadow and wood, from twilight’s dim light, I invite you—come forth if it feels right," Geralt spoke softly, his words carried only by the wind.

But soon, the wind responded. Before he could prepare himself, a Fae materialized before him, radiating an ethereal glow.

"Hello there, white-haired one," the Fae greeted, a smile playing on its lips—eerily reminiscent of Jaskier's.

"Good evening," Geralt replied with calm politeness.

"May I know your name before we begin our little chat?" the Fae asked, amusement lacing every word.

"You may know it, but it’s not yours to keep," Geralt said, waiting for the Fae’s acknowledgment. "It’s Geralt."

"And why have you called upon me, Geralt?" the Fae asked, its tone playful yet curious.

"I made a promise to one of your kind," Geralt explained, the name weighed heavy in his mouth. "Jaskier."

The Fae let out a light, tinkling laugh. "Ah, yes, we remember. So tragic, but a deal is a deal."

"It wasn’t a true promise. I wish to see it undone," Geralt said, his voice firm.

"And what, may I ask, will you offer in return for such a promise to be broken?" the Fae inquired. The bowl of berries was nearly empty now—time was slipping away.

"My trade is with Jaskier, not with you," Geralt responded, resolute. "All I ask is that you tell him I wish to speak."

The last berry vanished, and Geralt knew the Fae would soon be gone.

"I could tell you how to summon Jaskier," the Fae offered, its form flickering as it prepared to disappear.