#oblivious jaskier

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 106

Geralt has a hobby he only allows himself to partake in during the winter, alone in his room. Everyone knows Geralt sketches and scribbles monsters, beasts, and relics alike in his journal, but his secret is he also sketches down Jaskier. Jaskier's best poses, and outfits, and the best scenery he stood in front of. When winter comes, Geralt goes through and picks the very best one to turn into a full-fledged painting, of which he'll hang in his room with the others from all the years before. When he's lonely and sad, he simply turns to the evidence that the world is worth it all. Happy, sunny, sweet Jaskier. Stupid, reckless, loud, noisy, annoying, slutty Jaskier. He wouldn't have him any other way. He always paints him smiling, surrounded by flowers and lush foliage. Scenic views and beautiful lighting, all the better to compliment the bard's beauties. All is well until Lambert comes in one day and laughs. "Whoa. When you said you doodled, I didn't know it was to make a shrine for your bard!" "Lambert, he's not my bard." "You have like a dozen paintings of him smiling at you with half-lidded eyes! Is this how you get off at night?" "LAMBERT" "Sorry, you're right, don't tell me, I don't wanna know. Even though I can guess pretty easily-" "Just fuck off!" "Fine! Jeez.. So twitchy." This small event means nothing to Geralt. It's meaningless. Or at least it was. Until he and Jaskier bump into Lambert in the summer, and Lambert playfully elbows Jaskier in the side, and says to "Ask loverboy about his art collection!" Jaskier cocks an eyebrow and turns to Geralt with confusion, and if Geralt wasn't currently thinking about how to put his brother's head on a pike, he might've been tempted to draw the bard's lovely expression.

[feral-harpy]

I really want more fanfics of Jaskier saving geralt from some Bandits / Nobleman / other by lying that he is his witcher and wouldn't hurt anyone without his permission. And then he would have to prove it.

The whole time Geralt is planing how they could get out of this situation until he hears Jaskier calling him his and everything freezes while he feels his heart hammering in his chest. And in his mind he is like Fuck. He definetly felt something when Jaskier said that.

[threefandomsinatrenchcoat]

Geralt hasn't stuck around a human for this long before, so at first he thinks nothing of it when Jaskier comes back to him year after year, looking just the same. And when he doesn't die even after he must've passed sixty in age, Geralt chalks it up to the fact that any human would live past the expected when protected by a Witcher. He does get a little suspicious when Jaskier still looks the same after a century on the path together.

[witcher-inspiration]

I propose that Jaskier has always had enhanced Witcher senses and just never realized that it wasn't perfectly normal.

"What do you mean of course humans can hear the heartbeat of other people? Do you even know how many lyrics there are about hearts stumbling? Listening to the heartbeat of your lover???"

[thequeeninyellowlace]

For @93rdnavigator (and also @wren-of-the-woods):

Jaskier: *draped semi-naked over his grand piano in the firelight when everyone except he and Geralt are on a hunting trip*

Geralt: *walks in the Great Hall*

Geralt: *stares*

Geralt, puzzled: “Aren’t you cold?”

Jaskier, lounging, holds up a large vial of wood oil. “Oh, Geralt! I didn’t see you there! I was just going to polish the piano—gotta make sure it stays nice and moist.” Geralt stared at him, dumbfounded.

Jaskier, keeping eye contact with Geralt, upended the bottle of oil all over his own chest. Oil ran off him onto the shining case of the piano. He smiled, then put his hand down to push himself up seductively. His hand slipped on the now-oily piano top.

Jaskier, frowning: *tries to sit up* *slides in the oil, which is now pouring off the sides on the piano* *flails* “Fuck!” *slides straight off the piano onto his ass on the floor*

Geralt: “What the hell, Jaskier?”

🤣🤣🤣

[devilpetvolpe]

The scars I carried for you

“What’s this?” the baritone voice startled the witcherling, he hadn’t heard the other witcher coming up behind him. He’d thought himself alone, the last of them to be up that night and allowed himself to relax. His neckline fell loose and unbuttoned. Were he using his usual glamor then he would have thought nothing of it but since Vesemir refused him use of it, he felt an extra level of bare.   

He tried to tidy himself up, righting the collar when he heard the older approach. A gentle hand caught him by the neck though and stopped him. Eskel eased the fabric down farther, pulling it to one side to locate what he had seen. A thick hand bracketed where an old scar rests. The younger shivered when callouses caught the skin as Eskel brushed his thumb over it. 

Now was not the first time he’d wished for his glamor. He knew it was too soon to be fully without it. While he enjoys attention he dislikes feeling too seen, especially in this moment. ”What’s this?” Eskel repeated, his voice low in volume and timber as he asked nearly in Jaskier’s ear. Another gentle touch caused a shiver down his spine.    

“It’s,” an awful twisted stab wound, “uh, he” his throat constricted and he swallowed to alleviate it, “he liked the way it felt.” Jaskier explained carefully as if that conveyed all one would need to understand. 

It did not, “What? The blade in his hand?” 

Jaskier wet his lips. Shame weighed his gaze causing him to drop his head down further. “How it felt,” he repeated, emphasizing the word deliberately and carefully, “around him.” He allowed himself to get caught up in the memory for a moment. Mind tunneling in on one of many horrific memories. 

He’d stabbed him from behind, blade having pierce threw the meat scraping the bone of his clavicle on its way out. All orifices clenched in his pain and again when he twisted it. The other side had a scar too, small in the dip under the bone. Small enough to pass as a mole or freckle.

Eskel sucked in a breath between clenched teeth at the implications. He pulled the shirt further away, stretching it in a way that if Jaskier were fully present would start a fit. He examined the area fully, aside from the twist of the blade there were little white marks making up an oval in the flesh. Teeth marks, a bite mark deep enough to draw blood, deep enough to scar. “Jul-” but he was cut off.

“I have the witcher prerogative,” his voice was haunting in its hollow. Spoken from a far off memory, “the build but not the training.” Eskel waited with breath held as the younger continued in that halting format. “It’s much harder to nullify the situation when it’s with men. Women are much simpler creatures.” Jaskier halfway came back to himself when Eskel squeezed his shoulder. “ but no less awful.” the last sentiment murmured morose and with more conviction.

There were many a bedfellow whom shown interest in Geralt for the novelty of it and then there were those who were interested in the lack of consequence. So many who’ve been screened by the bard as the interested party ask for a good word. He had a knack for it at his point. Could tell the one from the other. And if he thought they would give up if he were to turn them away then he never would have allowed himself to play the distraction. 

Convince them that they wanted him rather than the Wolf. A quick twist of his ring and a flash of gold soaked eyes. Always with promises of testing his stamina, and other thresholds. Women clawing nails into his skin while they ride him, men who stab and cut or broken bones. He’d been told he thrashes beautifully the more intense the pain. And in the morning it would all vanish under a glamor, no need for concern and his precious White Wolf was safe and none the wiser.

The weight of Eskel’s forehead rested between his shoulder blades, grounding him in the here and now. His collar was righted and an arm wrapped around him keeping him close. “Thank you,” it was absurd being thanked for his suffering, “Thank you for taking care of him.” The other’s hand clenched in the cloth over his chest. He couldn’t help but feel like it was one of the only things keeping him together in this exact moment.

In an almost detached movement he reached up to wipe the tears from his own eyes. “It’s what you do for love,” for twenty years, he took the hurt intended for his love. Still hopeful and blissfully unaware that he had not a chance. For his hopeful position was already taken by the witcher that clung to him now.

[kitsunebattleboxer]

I adore these hc’s so much. May I humbly offer some additions of my own?

While Jaskier is teaching at Oxenfurt, he puts out contracts on just the truly most ridiculous things, like testing the bath houses water to make sure it’s human safe, and yes absolutely sir Witcher you have to get in and take a bath to prove it

And surely we can’t let all this food go to waste, or the gods will curse us for being careless and give us all the ears and tail of a donkey! You cannot change my mind, only a Witcher has this big of an appetite, you must eat it all! (The food being a nice double serving of stew and bread and dessert, maybe some nonperishables to take on the path)

I have no idea how my favorite doublet in the whole wide world got hung atop the East tower, truly no idea at all, but only a strong and agile Witcher can retrieve it now!

And on one very memorable occasion, to open a pickle jar

But the coin is so good that a passing Witcher can’t help but (very warily) look into it, and Jask is even so kind as to pay half up front to prove his genuineness

He earns quite an amusing reputation among his students for this as the professor who wants to jump in every witchers pants

When on the road, between traveling with the White Wolf himself, Jaskier actually makes the acquaintance of quite a few witchers, almost like he can sniff them out from villages away

Occasionally he’ll rent a room for “ the next witcher to arrive” on his way out of town, or he’ll sneakily buy dinner for the brooding figure in the corner without them knowing, or when traveling by an area with a known monster problem he’ll trade some rare witcher potion herbs with a merchant, it’s little things, but he hopes to the gods that they help

The first time he stumbles upon a witcher camp that isn’t Geralt’s, it’s entirely accidental. But the hulking bear is just as surprised as Jaskier, who immediately makes himself at home after a flamboyant bow of introduction

He somehow convinces Junod to meet him in two months time for his Belleteyn performance in Aedirn

Not to mention the very handsome manticore he traded wine knowledge with in Toussaint

Or the quite rude viper who didn’t want anything to do with him after Jaskier dragged his unconscious body from the swamp and saved his life by stitching up his wounds excellently, thank you very much

Jaskier greets a random witcher that Geralt doesn’t even know, with open arms, and Geralt is absolutely flabbergasted when said witcher hugs him back

Witcher/Jaskier Fic Ideas I've not written yet but think should be unleashed to the public

Aiden tells Jaskier the secret to finding the Cat Caravan. He uses that knowledge to fuck with the Witchers

Cats are taught sign language to communicate sneakily- 2 Witchers have a screaming match through only sign to the amusement and confusion of everyone around them

Jaskier hires Witchers for the oddest jobs you can imagine. Shenanigans ensue.

Jaskier talks about wanting to fuck Witchers around Witchers for the sake of amusing them and seeing their reaction

Jaskier pays the Cats to help with the Sandpiper business. It's all good till the Wolves overhear Jaskier telling a Witcher to "take out the elves"

Jaskier writes a series of books called "How to train your Witcher" and it's actually good advice

Jaskier offers to share his inn room with a random Witcher. He either doesn't know or doesn't care that said Witcher DOES NOT trust him in the slightest

Jaskier keeps accidentally bumping into the Caravan on his solo travels. It's awkward every. Single. Time.

Jaskier isn't short on money or time: whenever he hears a Witcher is near he bursts into their rooms or camps- throws money and supplies at them and runs away

Jaskier starts name dropping Witchers in his songs, which is both hilarious and infuriating for said Witchers

Jaskier finds (steals) a dead Witchers medallion from a royal and goes on a wild goose chase to find a Crane still alive so he can give back the medallion to the right school, unaware that they've gone extinct

[jaskier-cult]

What if Geralt is very well aware of how fast humans should be aging. What if it’s Jaskier who has no concept of time or aging, and he’s just like, “What do you mean I haven’t been aging? I’m not a child anymore!”

And basically Jaskier is just a really oblivious immortal.

[hannibard]

Say what you will about the witcher season 2 but all the "Yennefer took Jaskier in the divorce", "Geralt and Yennefer are a divorced couple rasing a kid and dating the same man", "geraskefer love triangle with an oblivious Jaskier in the middle" memes and fics were top tier

[thedemonofcat]

Rumors have spread that Jaskier, the bard, has fallen for a Witcher. The gossip is all around, eventually making its way to Geralt. However, Geralt remains oblivious to the fact that Jaskier is in love with him.

As he ponders the situation, Geralt is left trying to figure out which of his brothers has captured Jaskier's heart.

[nightshadeadfornow]

Since we've already have a canonical confirmed bi Jaskier ...

...and that JASK nickname thrown in the pot

I petition for a canonical, obliviously in love, geraskier moment. Like actual scenes, not fanon presumed cuz of Joey's great onscreen chemistry with all his costar types. I mean, jaskier radovid is fire, but og geraskier fan for life?

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 131

Jasker is a dragon, sure. But he prefers his human form. He prefers pretty clothing and lutes over his scales and wings. He hasn't a hoard yet. He thinks. He's never truly cared for gold, though he knows that not all dragons have hoards of gold. That's just the default. What if he did have a hoard, and it just wasn't some boring old gold pieces? At first he thought his hoard must be his many exuberant outfits, but when he got into a scuffle and one outfit was ruined, he was disappointed but that was it. There was no anguish, no mourning, no big depressive meltdown over it's destruction... So probably not a hoard. Just an interest. He then thought it must be his songs. But when he heard a bard in some town playing one of his songs, he didn't erupt into scales and roars. He didn't burn down a city. He didn't even rip out his hair or anything. He wasn't even mad. He thinks you'd be more possessive and jealous over a hoard. He was mostly proud. The bard said it was a song he didn't write, he said it was by Jaskier, and he sang it quite well. But even if he didn't do any of those things, Jaskier would be mad, sure, maybe even mad, but never MAD. He thought of lovers being his hoard, but the thought went away very quickly. None of his lovers stay, and though it stings sometimes, he thinks he'd be flinging himself off a cliff if a treasure of his hoard literally got up and walked away from him. And then one day he meets a Witcher. The witcher looks at him with these piercing golden eyes, and Jaskier feels an audible shift in his soul, his being. He found it. His treasure. Maybe witchers are his hoard, and Geralt is just his first one. Maybe his hoard is just friends he meets. He doesn't know, all he knows is that he can't stop himself from staring at the gold of Geralt's eyes. Perhaps Jaskier does care for gold.

[tielmamon]

Jaskier thinking he both fell first and fell harder for Geralt. Completely oblivious to the fact that Geralt is actually obsessed.

Local drunks going missing after spending an evening in a tavern a certain bard had stayed in. Flirty stable boys suddenly no where to be seen after handling a horse that was known to be traveling with a witcher and his bard. High position noblemen found dead in their bedchambers, seemingly of poison the morning after a grand ball. So grand infact that they had Jaskier the bard, the famous troubadour perform for them.

Coincidences? Geralt would grin and tell you they most definitely were, all while his hand lay firmly on the small of Jaskier's back.

[ladyannemarie5]

Funny how Geralt always stayed on the sidelines with Jaskier's conquests for fear of a broken heart and yet he got a front row seat to watch the bard fall in love with the prince.

Geralt would cut the bard off when he started talking about the virtues of whatever man or woman he spent the night with, but he had no choice but to listen to Jaskier when he told him how the prince learned his song, because the poet appealed to their "best friends" bond.

Geralt smiled inwardly when the bard left his conquest for the night alone to go order him a bath and wash his hair with special soaps and oils after the hunts. And then the witcher had to witness Jaskier leaving him to go order Radovid a bath because "his long blond hair has never been anything less than perfect and cannot be left uncared for, Geralt." 

Geralt always distracted the bard with a story of past hauntings with terrifying creatures every time Jaskier began to compose a love song for his conquest, but nothing could distract the poet when he began to talk about how beautiful and bright Radovid's eyes were and how he wanted to find the perfect words to describe them. 

Geralt faked annoyance every time Jaskier asked to sleep next to him at night insinuating that he was too cold for a little bard. Geralt feigned relief when Jaskier told him that he would no longer bother him with that because he now slept with Radovid and his arms and fur blanket were more than warm. 

Geralt kept as much emotional distance as possible from the bard who approached him in a tavern in Posada so he wouldn't have to deal with a broken heart from falling in love with a human. 

But absolutely no distance in the world prepares him when that night while they were camping alone, Jaskier lying next to him and looking up at the stars, turns to him and says softly "I'm not in love with you anymore, Geralt. You don't have to act cautious around me anymore."

And Geralt can't say anything. Because he simply can't. He must have misheard, maybe the kikimore from earlier hit him too hard or something because there's no way, no world where Jaskier was in love with him. There's no way he would have wasted his chance. 

Jaskier, oblivious to the witcher's stupor, continues "I know I made you uncomfortable with my affections for you, I tried hard not to throw myself at you if I'm honest, but Radovid... I've fallen so much in love with Radovid that I'm ready to let you go. I'm sorry it took me so long to give you and Yenna peace."

Geralt looks up at the stars in silence, not believing what he just heard. Jaskier is about to turn away when Geralt takes his hand. He says nothing, just a simple squeeze. Jaskier breathes a sigh of relief, the witcher doesn't hate him for that, he doesn't ask him to leave as he had feared. Geralt is also relieved that he is no longer burdened with the bard's feelings. 

Geralt allows himself to hold his hand one last time. He allows himself a small luxury, so that he can silently mourn the loss of his bard and curse his own stupidity. Tomorrow he will watch as the bard is reunited with the prince, tomorrow he will watch with a broken heart as they embrace and the prince spins Jaskier in his arms, before kissing him and swearing eternal love. Tomorrow Geralt's heart breaks completely. 

But just for today, just for that night, he allows himself to take Jaskier's hand, draw him into his arms and breathe freely the scent of the man he has been in love with for over two decades. Just for that one night, Geralt allows himself to be happy.

----

I really love to make me cry ^^

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Accent

Jaskier has a Northern accent that he works really hard to hide. He learned early on that most people, especially among the nobility, considered Northerners to be lower than peasants. A Northern accent was a black mark on the person, labeling them as bumpkins or hill folk.

Jaskier saw how anyone with an accent even remotely close to Northern was ridiculed and bullied both inside and outside of Court. So he spent a lot of time practicing speaking in a Court accent until he perfected it.

By the time he went off to study in Oxenfurt, he had become comfortable with the new accent, and it sounded completely natural. He didn't have to worry about being looked down on, or ridiculed, and he discovered that a lot of people found a Court accent attractive.

But there was always that fear that he was going to slip and some one would find out about his Northern accent. He was terrifed when he started following Geralt, and when he met Yennefer.

Geralt never said anything, but he could hear that Jaskier's accent wasn't natural. There were slight differences in inflection, and pronunciation, and tiny inconsistencies that normal humans would never notice but a Witcher's sensitive ears easily picked up on. Whatever the reason was for the affectation was none of Geralt's business.

The more time Geralt spent with Jaskier, the more he noticed the little slips in this Court accent. He figured out the reason for the fake accent when he started hearing his real accent come through.

Geralt remembered the first time Jaskier's accent had slipped out.

The had made camp after a long day of entertaining at the town festival. Jaskier had been very tired, and he was upset about a few things Valdo Marx had said to him. He'd laughed it off, turning the insults and insinuations into an improv song that had the crowd laughing and cheering him boistrously before sweeping him away to the closest inn for a round of drinks while Valdo stood fuming impotently.

But now that they were alone, he'd allowed himself to feel the hurt, and his accent had taken on a sing-songy quality, and he'd gone hard on his T's for a second when he referred to Valdo Marx as "that b**tart!"

Oh, f**k!

Jaskier internally panicked the second he realized he'd dropped his affected accent. Ok, calm down! Maybe he didn't hear. You know he tunes you out most of the time. Act natural, pretend like everything is normal!

Jaskier continued rummaging through his pack, sneaking a quick glance at Geralt while continuing to insult Valdo as he shook out his bedroll, flapping the blanket aggresssively before laying it out. Geralt seemed oblivious, his attention on gathering deadfall for the fire and digging out the fire pit.

Jaskier allowed himself to breathe a silent sigh of relief. The Witcher hadn't noticed. Thank all the gods!

Geralt was scraping out a little pit for the fire when he heard Jaskier drop his accent for just a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bard freeze for a split second, and Geralt calmly continued with his task as if he hadn't noticed. All the while he was thinking "He has a Northern accent! No wonder he sounds off sometimes!"

From then on, Geralt started really listening, intrigued and wanting to hear more of his real voice. He caught little snatches of it here and there, mostly when Jaskier was drunk, tired, upset, or excited. Or when he thought he was alone, and was composing a song or poem.

Geralt was always careful to never let on that he noticed when that lovely, sing-songy accent slipped out. It was hard, forcing himself to keep that big stupid smile off his face that threatened to come out whenever he heard Jaskier 'go Northern'.

When Yennefer came into the picture, Jaskier was on edge, constantly on guard to keep his Northern accent hidden. She was the last person he wanted to find out about it.

She already hates me. No reason to make her think I'm stupid, too!

He did an excellent job of hiding it, not wanting to give the witch any ammunition in their perpetual war of words. He finally bonded with her, saw her as family like he did Geralt, and he doubled down on keeping his accent a secret.

He could talk to her about anything, show her every side of him, like he could with Geralt, but the accent was one thing he did not want to share. He was terrified that she would look at him differently. That both of them would. He didn't think his heart would survive that.

Yennefer had been fighting for her life the first time she heard Jaskier's Northern accent come out.

Jaskier had caught a fever while performing in one of the towns. He was delirious, and Yennefer had been getting him to drink a potion and he'd just completely dropped his affected accent as he started talking random nonsense to her.

She had paused as she was tucking him back in, staring at him in disbelief as he chattered on.

Yennefer had squealed in lowercase.

"Oh! My! Gods! He's, he's got a-!"

"Northern accent. I know. He's been faking a Court accent-!"

"I know what it is, and it's f***ing cute!"

"Gods you sound like a giddy little maid!"

"Like you can say anything, Geralt, when you're standing there grinning like a boy who's just gotten his first peek at a pair of tits!"

Yennefer and Geralt never let on that they knew, and it bothered them that Jaskier didn't seem to feel like he could trust them. They understood why he was hiding it, though, so they satisfied themselves with enjoying the rare times when it slipped out.

It was not heavy, like many Northerners' accents were. Jaskier's accent was lighter, more delicate, but it did tend to get heavier when he was in an emotional state.

They did their best to pretend they didn't notice the little lapses, but they couldn't help but smile when it happened. And Jaskier eventually figured out that they both knew--had known for a while.

Yennefer had run into them in town, and they were having dinner in their room at the inn. Jaskier had been chattering on about how one of his sets had gone, and he'd gotten a little too excited. Yennefer's eyes had gone soft and...and sparkly, and she'd glanced at Geralt, whose face was lit up with the sunniest smile which he was desperately trying to hide behind his tankard of ale.

OhHhH f**K, tHeY'd hEaRd iT!!!! He froze, going stock still. Any minute now, they were going to start lauging at him.

Geralt just smiled and took another drink while Yennefer just kept looking at him with that, that adoring look. That was when he knew.

"When?" Jaskier had asked, mortified after he realized.

Geralt had swallowed his ale with a thoughtful 'Hm' and replied. "A few days after you started following me around. Your accent sounded off, but I wasn't sure why. Figured it out after you started b*tching about Valdo Marx one night."

Jaskier mentally kicked himself. Of course a Witcher would have been able to tell!

"And you?", he asked Yennefer

"That time you had that bad fever. You babbled on in the most intriguing accent about everything under the heavens. We got to listen to it for two whole days!"

Jaskier hid his face in his hands, dinner forgotten as he slid down in his chair with an embarrassed groan.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because we knew why you were hiding it, Lark", Yennefer said, "I've been in Court. I know how the nobility are."

"You don't have to hide it anymore. Not around us," Geralt said.

"You...you don't think I sound...stupid?"

Yennefer tapped him on the head with her empty plate as she walked by, "No, you little b*llend! It's sing-songy and cute, and you sound adorable!"

It took him some time, but he was finally able to let himself relax and stop using the adopted accent with Yennefer and Geralt.

He would forget sometimes, because he was a performer, and an act could be hard to put aside. Especially if it had helped you survive for so many years.

It would sometimes take an hour or two after a long day of performing for the public for Geralt and Yennefer's 'Sing-Songy Twit' to relax enought to drop the Court accent and be himself. And when he did, one of them would always say warmly "There you are, Jaskier!"

[a-prompt-archive]

I still love that scene where Joey Batey sings "Burn Butcher Burn". the emotion in it is amazing! and it really gets me thinking...

How perfectly fitting is the phrase "Watch me burn all the memories of you" ?

(this shit got too long, click the "Keep reading" so this doesn't take up a big part of your dash )

During Rience's torture he starts singing the song. Rience doesn't stop him, smiling instead because for sure this is a sign that the bard is cracking! He nearly has him! But something starts to build. Some innate magic that Jaskier has (that he might or might not know about, writer's choice) uses the song as a spell or rather ritual and builds upon it, using Rience's fire magic to boost itself and turns that one phrase into a reality!

Firefucker notices the drain on his magic too late to do anything about it. He can just watch as Jaskier erases huge parts of his own memories to protect Geralt and the child surprise (he may or may not have met before, another writer's choice).

Rience curses and is about to kill the now useless bard when Yennefer arrives to save the day.

However the dialogue after the safe is such that Yen doesn't notice Jaskier had lost his memories of Geralt! After all, the maagic erased Geralt, but not anyone else. To protect his sanity, Jaskier's magic has constructed a sort of fake memories or blurriness so that he doesn't question how he could have met Yennefer, or who he could have written those songs.

Fast forward to Geralt finding Jaskier in prison.

Now this could go either of two ways.

First way: Geralt notices that Jaskier has no idea who he is, but he still has info about Yennefer, so he brings him along, (potentially slightly unwilling) in some sort of strange reversal of their beginning years. Attempting to spark the bard's memory along the way and hoping Vesemir has a solution.

Second way: Netflix-Geralt is rather oblivious and Jaskier is smart enough to notice that whoever this guy is, he's his ticket out of the jail. So he pretends to know this person and gets dragged into these situations he was not expecting at all. so it's only after the battle at the end of s2 where people notice that Jaskier has absolutely no fucking clue who Geralt is. With Geralt having written of any weird responses Jaskier might have given before then to the fact that he's still angry with him.