#radskier fic

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

WIP Wednesday

Radskier, with not-quite-witcher Jaskier. References to sex, but nothing specific mentioned.

Radovid is seated on the throne when the guards drag in one armoured Jaskier. He clatters onto his hands and knees before Radovid, looking up at him through those long lashes.

"Oh, hello," he smirks.

Seeing him in this get up, it knocks the wind out of Radovid, and he leans forward. "You became a witcher?"

Jaskier laughs, "I trained, but I'll never be him."

Radovid dips his eyes down. Of course, it was always about him.

He hears Jaskier adjust, shifting until he's on one knee.

"Why did you return?"

"Radovid..."

"It's 'Your Majesty'," Radovid bites. He winces at the sting, at the twinge in Jaskier’s eyes.

"Your Majesty." It sounds flat, the teasing lilt in Jaskier’s voice gone.

Radovid hates it. "Why?"

"He needed my help. Songs are useful, but so is brute strength."

Images flicker in Radovid’s mind of strong arms holding him up, his back scraping against a wall, hair caught in the sharp stonework.

He coughs, staring over Jaskier's shoulder and willing his face not to heat up.

"And now?"

"I'm at your mercy," Jaskier whispers in a low voice.

Radovid’s eyes slip back, and he sees the darkness in Jaskier’s, the feral beast reaching to come out.

"Perhaps you'd like to get cleaned up. Then we can talk."

"As you command," comes the breathy reply.

Radovid's lips twitch. If Jaskier has his way, he'll be limping tomorrow.

"Godfrey. Take this man to the guest room, and get him a bath and clothes," he orders.

Jaskier nods, and then he follows the elderly servant out the door. Radovid stands, pacing, his mind racing with visions of what they might get to.

He's forced to sit back down when a merchant is announced, walking in and bowing before him.

This afternoon is going to be a long one.

Tl;dr an elaborate set up for them to, cough, you know.

Tagged by the lovely @cha-melodius 💕

Tagging @samstree @iwillbringyouruin @underthebluerain @rauchendesgnu @dancingwiththefae @echo-bleu @dapandapod @insert-witty-user-name-here @rins-love-wins @dewdropreader @mirilyawrites @lgwilt @bebx if you wanna do it.

[dont-touch-the-phlebotinum]

Your Gaze Lights the Fire

Jaskier/Radovid | 3K words | Explicit

As performances go, it's hardly a challenging crowd; a smattering of nobles and royal hangers-on, as eager with their applause as they are to snatch up another cup of wine being passed around. Yet there's a flutter of nerves beating against Jaskier's ribs as he plays, one he's not felt for perhaps too many years. It's almost a relief when his last song draws to a close and the room drifts into a subdued, contemplative hush.

"You can all applaud me now if you like," he says, if only to cut through the frisson of electricity in the air.

Across the room, Radovid remains as a statue, his hands curled on the arms of his chair and his eyes fixed with burning intensity on Jaskier – and Jaskier could have believed that was simply the way Radovid studies everyone; sizing them up, taking them apart with his gaze to lay bare every secret they try to hide, except he hasn't seen Radovid devote nearly as much attention to anyone else tonight. When he gets up to follow Jaskier there's a lightness in the way he saunters away from the crowd that's too controlled to be fully convincing.

"Stay," he says when Jaskier moves to leave, somewhere between request and command. "Hardly seems fair, to take our fill of your talents and then cast you aside." He lifts a cup from another passing tray and offers it out to Jaskier. "Consider it recompense, for your performance."

"I thought you agreeing to sniff out Rience was recompense."

"This business with the girl Cirilla, the mage on her trail – that's simply politics. Tonight?" There's a whisper of a wry smile on his face, there and gone so quickly Jaskier could convince himself he'd imagined it. Radovid leans forward conspiratorially, and part of Jaskier wants to step back, to put some distance between them again. He doesn't. "Tonight is just for me."

There has to be an angle. An attempt to ply Jaskier with wine until he's drunk enough to spill Geralt's secrets, or – or to make him more amenable to the idea of bringing Ciri to Redania before they've dealt with Rience. He's a little insulted that Radovid would think him such a fool.

Unless, perhaps, Radovid doesn't. Unless he genuinely wants Jaskier to stay.

Jaskier meets his eyes, searching for the truth in Radovid's gaze. There's so much hiding within it Jaskier suspects he could spend a lifetime at study and still fail to decipher it all.

He takes the cup, and follows Radovid back into the room.

Too many to count follow as the candles burn down low and the night stretches on, yet Jaskier's still nursing his first, the ghost of Radovid's touch lingering on his fingers. He's not stupid enough to let his guard down around this lot, even if the crowd has dwindled to a select few by now. Nor, it seems, is Radovid. He sips his wine – his first as well – and murmurs something to the man sat close at his side. Too low for Jaskier to hear, as much as he strains to listen over the others' conversation, but the man laughs in response. There's a familiar look on his face as he gazes back at Radovid.

It's understandable, of course. Status opens legs just as easily as a handsome face does, and Radovid has both in abundance. Plus wit, and guile, and an intoxicating air of intrigue about him should all other endowments somehow fail to draw a warm, willing body into his lap.

But there's little chance of that tonight. The man beside Radovid certainly seems willing.

Jaskier drains the rest of his drink.

"Another?" A voice says at Jaskier's ear, and he looks back at the woman lounging beside him on the bed. She leans closer. "Or is there something else that might quench your thirst?"

She is beautiful, soft features that turn towards him in obvious interest and dark curls tumbling over her shoulder where her dress has already begun to slip. There are no secrets in her eyes, no caveats to her attention. She's exactly the kind of person with whom Jaskier could pass a very enjoyable night or several. He should have had no hesitation in curling around her with a smile and taking all she would offer him.

"I am flattered, my lady, but–"

"Oh it's quite all right, Jaskier," Radovid cuts in – and, fuck, how long has he been watching? He has an arm slung around the man at his own side now and another woman on his left, her lips on his neck and a hand sliding inside his doublet. Jaskier tries not to follow the movement. "Have anyone who takes your fancy."

Jaskier laughs a little, but Radovid simply stares back at him. As if this is a test, and Jaskier's choice in these next moments will determine whether he passes or fails. "Forgive me," he says in the end. "I didn't realise you were running a brothel out of the royal palace. I'd have brought more coin."

Radovid does laugh at that, and there's an edge of delighted surprise to it that Jaskier thrills at the sound of. It's the second time this evening that his aura of haughty detachment has begun to slip. Perhaps it wouldn't be so impossible to strip it away completely.

"Tales of your prowess spread as far and wide as your songs. Trust me, there's not a person in this room who wouldn't jump at the chance to find out if there's any truth to the legends."

"Mm-hmm," the woman beside Jaskier chimes in emphatically, and presses her lips to his throat.

"Oh I assure you," Jaskier grins, "they're all true."

Radovid regards him for a moment, plucking a grape from the bowl in front of him and bringing it slowly to his lips to take a bite. They glisten in the candlelight when he pulls his hand away again. Jaskier licks his own.

Radovid's voice purrs across the room. "Then prove it."

We're playing a dangerous game, you and I, Jaskier wants to say. Instead, he drags his gaze from Radovid's, turning towards the body pressed against his as he brings his mouth to hers. He can still feel eyes on him. Jaskier curls his hand into the woman's hair, yet even as he deepens the kiss, even as he squeezes his eyes shut and tries to block out everything that's not the woman in his arms, the image of strawberry blonde waves sliding between his fingers remains.

"I never did catch your name," he says between kisses.

"It's Cassandra."

"Cassandra," Jaskier echoes. He runs his hand over her arm as if he needs to check she's real, not just some trick of Philippa's. "A name as stunning as the woman herself."

She laughs, high and lilting, so unlike Radovid's deep, smooth chuckle. "No wonder Radovid likes you," she says, and as she slides into his lap, Jaskier risks a peek over her shoulder to the low couch opposite.

Radovid's own companions have both set to work trailing kisses over what slivers of exposed skin they have available to them, but whatever Radovid sees in Jaskier and Cassandra's display is apparently far more captivating. Even as he slides a hand up the man's thigh, slow and possessive and full of intent, his eyes remain fixed.

Jaskier's cock throbs in response.

Above him, Cassandra slips her hands beneath Jaskier's waistcoat and teases it off. He should be focusing on her. Whatever Radovid is getting up to across the room is no concern of Jaskier's. He kisses her again, fingers tugging at the ties of her dress as she strips Jaskier out of his shirt. He can hear the sounds of rustling fabric and wet lips on bare skin across the room, but when his traitorous eyes flick towards the sound Radovid is, for the moment, still fully clothed.

Maybe this is the game. Radovid knows the way to make Jaskier drop his guard is not to ply him with drink but with sex. Why else would a man who keeps his true self hidden beneath so many layers of guise and performance allow Jaskier to see him desperate and panting and vulnerable as he takes his fill of another? Maybe that's why he's still watching Jaskier like a hawk.

Radovid quirks an eyebrow as Jaskier lifts his hips to let Cassandra peel off his trousers – in appreciation? Amusement? Gods, hopefully not in amusement. But when his eyes rove across Jaskier's body there's something greedy in his expression. "Well," Radovid murmurs thoughtfully, "you are full of surprises, aren't you, bard?"

"All part of my considerable charm."

"Yes it is."

The words, or possibly just the low, appreciative way Radovid utters them, tug at something inside Jaskier. "You're a little overdressed," he says.

Radovid returns his sly smile as he allows his paramours to undress him in turn. He's lithe, not muscular but clearly athletic, his skin pale and unmarred and doubtless soft beneath any hands lucky enough to explore it. Jaskier bites back a bitter pulse of jealousy when they do exactly that. He watches Radovid turn to kiss the man at his side, and free of his burning gaze Jaskier can finally breathe again. At least, until the man's hand curls around Radovid's cock.

His fingers squeeze tight at Cassandra's hips.

He needs to stop watching. If only because Radovid's attention soon returns to Jaskier and whatever expression he finds on Jaskier's face probably reveals far too much. Radovid's lips twitch in response. Despite being naked and hard, only now does Jaskier feel exposed.

Well, if it's a show Radovid's after, Jaskier's not about to disappoint. He spreads his thighs, putting his body on display as he pulls Cassandra in to straddle his hips and kisses eagerly at her skin. Through it all, Radovid's expression remains unreadable.

When Jaskier sinks inside Cassandra, he shifts forward in his seat.

It's hardly the first time Jaskier's fucked with an audience. It might be the first time his audience has been so... rapt. Radovid barely even seems to notice the lips on his own skin or the hand traversing the length of his cock. There's no change in his breathing or his expression; only the subtle hint of pink spreading across his skin to suggest he feels anything at all.

Jaskier wonders if Radovid would be so unmoved were it Jaskier's hands upon him. He's good at this – he knows he's good at this, even without Cassandra's moans as confirmation. If anyone could make Radovid's steely composure crack, it's him.

Nails scratch at Jaskier's skin as he fucks into Cassandra, and he looks up at her with a grin, sliding a hand between them to draw out more sweet sounds and show Radovid just what he's missing. He makes no attempt to hold back his own moans. Across the room, Radovid's man has slipped between his thighs and bobs his head obscenely, the wet sounds of his mouth loud even amongst the laboured breathing filling the room. Jaskier presses his lips to Cassandra's shoulder, but it's not long before his eyes are drifting back to Radovid once again.

Finally, his hips have begun to move. The man between his legs has hair longer than Jaskier's, and Jaskier watches, waiting to see if Radovid's the type to slide his hand through it and steer the man's movements. Instead, Radovid's hands remain at his sides, clenching and relaxing against the fabric beneath him like he wants to reach out and touch but daren't let himself. But there's nothing stopping him from splaying his hands over the man beneath him, from gripping his hair and fucking his mouth in a way Jaskier just knows would make his own water, so why does he hesitate?

Jaskier grins.

Come on, he dares, silently. Come on over here and touch me.

He's fucked enough nobility to know Radovid's hands would be soft as silk against his skin. The thought makes him gasp, his thrusts losing rhythm as he nears his climax, fingers grasping tight at Cassandra's thighs bracketing him, until–

"Not yet," Radovid says, the words low enough to thrum through Jaskier's body and still his hips, and Jaskier groans at the sound of his voice. It's steady, but there's an edge to it that suggests it's an effort to keep it so. "We can't have the night end so soon, can we?"

Cassandra presses a parting kiss to Jaskier's lips and climbs out of his lap to lounge beside him again while Jaskier tries to regain his composure. He pushes his hair out of his face and slumps onto his palms. If Radovid's about to cross the room and take Cassandra's place in Jaskier's lap, well, he's more than welcome to.

He doesn't, of course. Despite the challenge he must surely be able to read on Jaskier's face, Radovid stays seated, moving only to guide his own partner off his cock. With a gentle nudge and a whispered word the man steps towards Jaskier in Radovid's stead.

Jaskier kisses him deeply, trying to taste Radovid on his tongue.

He sinks to his knees between Jaskier's feet and, at Jaskier's wordless nod, curls his fingers around him.

"Beautiful," Radovid says softly, as if he's simply admiring a piece of art. The woman still nestled at his side drags her hand down his stomach, the fair hair dusting his skin no doubt tickling against her palm until it turns thick and coarse and her hand travels the length of Radovid's cock to close around the head. He pushes up into the touch, just as Jaskier does. His breathing is heavier now, his eyes dark and lips parted, and the sound alone is enough to make desire pool, hot and insistent, in Jaskier's belly. There are hands and lips on Jaskier's skin – Cassandra's, probably, but to be honest it's hard to keep track. The rest of the room drifted away from him some time ago.

It's not long before Jaskier begins to crest again, and this time Radovid doesn't stop him. He fists his hands in the blankets beneath him and cries out with the pleasure coursing through him, and through it all, Radovid's gaze doesn't leave him.

Jaskier wants to close his eyes. He can't close his eyes.

"Fuck," he gasps as he sinks back on shaking arms, and Radovid hums, in satisfaction or simply his own pleasure, it's impossible to tell. His lips tug into an enigmatic smile.

He seems almost surprised at the sound he makes when he comes a mere moment later: a low, gentle moan that he quickly bites back into silence, body tensing beautifully as he spills, like he's torn between clinging onto what shreds of his facade remain and simply letting go and feeling. Jaskier wonders how many people have borne witness to such a genuine, unguarded moment from him. He leans forward to drink it in.

Now, now Radovid's eyes are glassy.

If Jaskier moved to join him now, he knows Radovid wouldn't stop him. His body itches to do so.

In the sated stillness engulfing the room, Radovid looks from the pair still entwined with Jaskier to the woman beside him and blinks, eyebrows briefly knitting into a frown. It's as if, for some small fraction of a moment, he was surprised they were there.

"Leave us," he says. "I'm sure my brother has more than enough beds to spare."

He and Jaskier watch in silence as the others gather their discarded clothes and filter from the room. Only once they're alone does Radovid move, unfolding himself gracefully and sauntering over towards the bed. Whether he's about to sink down onto it and finally take Jaskier himself, or threaten him with elaborate torment should he utter a word of this to anyone, Jaskier can't tell. Both seem likely.

His breath hitches as Radovid comes to a stop between his spread knees. He's close enough to touch – for Jaskier to reach forward and press his lips to Radovid's flat stomach, or grasp his hips and pull him down into his lap, letting his hands wander across that expanse of flawless skin until Radovid is incapable of suppressing the noises Jaskier draws out of him. But Jaskier doesn't close the distance between them, and nor does Radovid.

He touches his fingers to Jaskier's cheek. His gaze flicks downwards but, despite Jaskier's body attempting quite valiantly to rouse its interest again, Radovid's hand doesn't follow it. "I should have known your pleasure would sound just as beautiful as your songs," he says, the words barely louder than the thundering of Jaskier's heart.

There's no sign of a lie in his voice, nor in the gaze that still burns as intensely as when Jaskier first walked into the room. Of course, that doesn't mean it isn't there. It just means Radovid's even better at this game than Jaskier gave him credit for. Still, part of Jaskier craves to believe him, even as his common sense begs him not to.

"I should, uh..." he starts, with an apologetic glance towards the door. Radovid just stares back at him in feigned ignorance. "I should go."

"Should you?"

"I have people," Jaskier says, "who need me."

Radovid's lips twitch into that not-quite-smile of his, though the sharpness in his eyes has softened a little in the hazy wake of his orgasm. "And how could they not?"

He lowers his hand, and Jaskier breathes again.

The shift in Radovid's demeanour is immediate. "Very well," he says airily as he drops himself down onto the bed beside Jaskier, and were it not for the very obvious fact of his nakedness you'd never believe they'd done anything more than talk business. He helps himself to a leftover glass of mead, his eyes roving across Jaskier's body without a hint of subtlety until Jaskier has – with great reluctance – pulled his clothes back on. "Perhaps when you return, you'll grace me with another... performance?"

Jaskier grins back at him. His heart is still pounding when he sees himself out into the night. Somehow, he still feels no closer to figuring Radovid out.

It only makes him more determined to do so.

[tears-and-smiles-ao3]

Jaskier wakes up bound in a dark room and sighs because this isn't the first time.

Footsteps echo and the door opens. He already knows Philippa is throwing Radovid into the room before he twists around on the floor.

"Why is it always the dungeon?" he asks as Radovid unties him.

[dancingwiththefae]

For the @cookingwiththehanza monthly prompt: monster of the week. I took that prompt and ran with it and what came from it was a red riding hood inspired monsterfucking with feelings apparently

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Radskier, radovid/werewolf

Summary:

Radovid didn't believe the rumour about the werewolf that was spotted outside of the city until he came face to face with it. He couldn't hadve predicted what would happen next. Nor the all too familiar face that would greet him come morning.

[ladynearthelake]

Big ups to @poemsingreenink who suggested a Ravinia meet cute while I was ranting at her about these two.

For the three people out there who give a shit about this pairing. Love you, Radskier Nation.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

i just realized Radovid didn't just become the lover of a bard - he became the lover of one of the most famous bards of the Continent who is incredibly well known for his songs he writes based on his love and heartbreak brought on by A Guy He Loved Who Broke His Heart. imagine you were a prince and your kingdom's spy network was like "hey there's this bard spy we're using for his ties to the Literal Two Most Important People to the Future of the Continent" and then you're like. that's fucking taylor swift.

[thelostgirl21]

So, you are telling me that Jaskier used to wear outfits the color of the sea in Season 1...

That he constantly complains about his feet hurting, or struggling with keeping his footing while having to wear boots (is the problem his actual boots or a lack of early practice in life?!)...

That he got all excited at the thought that Geralt might catch him a fish to eat...

That a huge part of his identity and the pride he takes in himself is tied to his singing voice and abilities...

That his songs have been described as having the power to sing a king off his clothes...

That helping his best friend in the whole wide world bathe after rubbing soothing chamomile onto his lovely bottom is typical friendship behavior to him...

That he vulnerably asked for Geralt to get away for a while with him, and head to the (west?) coast, in the hopes that he might be able to prove himself a worthy [travel] companion (works whether you interpret the interest as romantic or queerplatonic).

And then he basically implied that (returning home with Geralt?) might be what would please him most.

That the very first thing he did after Geralt returned to him and got him out of his cell in Season 2, is take off his top and jump into the freaking nearest body of water!

That he's hypersensitive to the way people on land start stinking after a while (including himself), and will openly suggest they should bathe (or downright bathe them himself)!

That he talks with animals...

That you had him fall in love with a human prince in Season 3...

... then had him sing a song about a human prince that falls in love with a siren to Ciri right before you had him go meet with said prince, share his first kiss with him, and make love to him in a woodshed!

... only to show a clip from "Sirens of the Deep" revealing that the Netflix version of Jaskier is from

Bremervoord

a.k.a. The vassal state of Cidaris and one of the places that goes the furthest west into the sea on the Continent!

Bremervoord, with an economy running primarily on pearls fishing.

Bremervoord, the place where the story of Jaskier's Season 3 song, "A Little Sacrifice" takes place...

A place where a prince (though I think it's a duke in the actual short story) meets a siren, falls in love with her, and willingly leaves his human life behind to follow her at sea.*

*according to the song, at least! And I'm not sure it ends well for the prince of the song, because that part about him sinking to darkest night sounds a bit ominous if you ask me... The book's short story has a different conclusion.

You're basically telling me that Jaskier comes from a place on the coast that goes far into the sea to the west, a place where merpeople and humans occasionally interact, and that he didn't really feel like talking about where he's from, because he felt like the only way for him to ever be able to "become himself" was to leave his home behind...

... AND YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO LATCH ONTO THAT POPULAR MERMAN!JASKIER THEORY?!

OR INSTINCTIVELY START DEVELOPING A BUNCH OF HEADCANONS ABOUT IT?

For example :

What if Jaskier keeps repeating that "he's just a bard" not because he's actually dismissing how good, influential, or powerful he is...

... but because he chose to give up his tail to permanently become a human, and he doesn't like to be reminded that he doesn't quite "fully belong" with humanity, because there's something a bit different and "unique" about his singing.

What if, growing up as a merboy, he'd kept feeling like he was born in the wrong body and with the wrong species given his brethren's attitude about singing as an artform.

What if when merpeople sing, they typically rely on pure melodies without lyrics, and argue that only humans and other species of the land - with their inferior vocal capabilities - must rely on something as primitive as words and lyrics to inspire emotions and make ideas take root into other people's minds.

What if they do have a singing speech pattern, but when it comes to artistic expression, the songs are purely melodic.

But Jaskier, after listening to some of the folk songs that the local bards enjoy singing by the fire at the beach, often accompanied by a lute or other instruments, fell in love with the way the words of those songs flow and sound.

Perhaps he revealed himself to Essi then, and that, instead of being scared of him, she agreed to show him how to play the lute, speak her language, and sing the way humans do.

And when he did fully grasp the beauty and the power of using verbal poetry into songs, he knew he could never look back.

What if Essi was the first person to ever really see him for who he was and treat him as family, hence why he loves her like a little sister.

Maybe "the Lettenhoves" are basically a group of merpeople with no actual blood relation, that lost their own families and were rejected by them when they chose to make the full transition from merperson to human.

By pretending to be blood relatives, they've managed, however, to realistically pass as a large human noble family, acquire a bunch of lands and estates over the years that is passed to each new generation that wants them, and each new member is given a certain amount of money when they become one of the Lettenhoves to begin their new life on land!

They aren't extremely close, because they each have their own lives and personal ventures (very few go into singing careers), but they are still people that understand what being a human born at sea feels like, and that will be there to offer each other help and support if need be!

And so, Jaskier was able to go study at the University of Oxenfurt and learn as much of the human world and its arts as he could!

But, while his voice remains a bit more powerful and influential than most humans that were born on land, that influence comes with a "curse"...

Most people that instinctively fall under the charm of his melodies (note: Jaskier can use his voice to make an audience more susceptible to anger and annoyance when he sings, too. An especially useful skill to have when you're relying on food being thrown at you to eat... Hence why Geralt's lack of emotional response to his singing when they met was so intriguing!) will typically only care about how they make them feel, rather than how Jaskier himself was feeling when he wrote his songs.

Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri are all immune to his siren charms - and dwarves appear to be more resistant as well - but, while his songs inspire people, and hearing him sing them "live" with his actual voice tends to make people become instantly infatuated with him (or immediately hate him, should Jaskier wish to repel rather than attract them)...

... they rarely ever see him or seemingly attempt to connect with him on an intimate, emotional level, like they would with another human being.

And so, every time Jaskier is reminded of how much influence he appears to have over how people see the world when he uses his voice, Jaskier's tendency to remind them that he's "just a bard" is because he wishes people would connect with his humanity, too, rather than what he can do.

Regardless of him being able to pass as someone that was born on land and started his life in a fully human body, he knows that his voice will always carry some remnant of his siren abilities.

And that this difference appears to be preventing him from emotionally and physically connecting with other human beings that weren't born at sea like him, the way he wishes he could.

And so, that's why he was initially hesitant to sing for Radovid, and he kept insisting that he wasn't in a "singing mood" that day.

Because he knew that, the moment Radovid heard his singing voice, he might stop listening to him and trying to connect.

But there was something in the way Radovid insisted - while asking for Jaskier to pick his favorite song and showing a sincere curiosity about listening to what pleased him most - that made Jaskier ultimately choose to risk it.

And, while Radovid was obviously affected by the sound of his voice (to the point where he felt the need to pretend his speechlessness was caused by drunkenness), it was also very clear that he'd been listening.

Not only was his gaze very sharp and his eyes clear and bright while Jaskier was singing - seemingly attempting to analyse every note and word - but, for once, the things Radovid was complimenting him about weren't related to his ability to make people feel and experience things...

For once, what Radovid was claiming made Jaskier so special wasn't the beauty or power of his voice, or how catchy the melodies of the songs he'd sang to him were.

It wasn't even about how Jaskier's lyrics had made him feel.

He'd told Jaskier that what made him so special was his ability to see people for who they really are rather than who they pretend to be.

He'd essentially told him that his ability to truly comprehend those around him was his gift - that he had a unique ability to connect with them at the core... the very thing Jaskier had always felt that he was lacking.

And when Jaskier pushed him for more, all Radovid told him was that he didn't know yet, but was determined to figure it out.

"You connect strongly with others and my desire is to understand and connect with you."

That is what Radovid had taken away from who he was, even after having heard him sing, and Jaskier couldn't help but feel like he'd found a kindred spirit in that human.

Someone stuck in a world and a birth family that simply couldn't understand and accept him as he was - constantly hiding parts of himself to survive.

Radovid had then agreed to help him with the whole situation with Rience - despite the fact that Jaskier hadn't used any song to attempt to suggest he should, just genuinely asked for his help.

And - if that hadn't been enough - that prince had gone one step even further by asking him if Geralt knew how lucky he was to have him, after Jaskier had been singing about his self-worth issues when it came to relationships and his fear of never being good enough - or human enough - for a fellow human (or mutated human) partner.

He'd been listening to him.

He might have been born on land, and he might not have been immune to Jaskier's siren abilities, but Radovid still hadn't lost sight of who he was, nor been tempted to start obsessing about owning him or treating him like a prized possession.

And so, Jaskier tentatively begins to allow himself to hope...

Until Radovid does something truly unexpected that none of his prior human, elven or dwarven suitors or lovers had ever done before...

Learn his song.

Sirens are typically immune to the power that another siren's voices carry... until they fall in love.

One of the ways to know if a fellow merperson is alterously or romantically drawn to you is to sing back one of their own melodies to them, and see how they will respond.

Should they feel that instinctive, near irresistible pull towards the melody, and vice versa, then the two sirens will often start trying to discover and explore different ways they can learn to harmonize and use their voices to complement each other's, and create new shared melodies that will resound through the sea.

And, for the very first time in his life, Jaskier finally understands how people feel when they listen to him sing.

Despite the fact that the "siren's melody" being sung back to him is a human song he wrote, with human lyrics, accompanied by human instruments...

Despite the fact that Radovid himself is most definitely not a siren but very much human - fumbling a bit with Jaskier's lute, visibly nervous, too shy to allow his voice to rise above a whisper...

To Jaskier, it's the most beautifully mesmerizing "siren's melody" he's ever heard in his existence! It's filled with warmth, love, understanding, a promise of unconditional acceptance and safety...

It's absolutely intoxicating, he can barely breathe, feels like he's on the very edge of losing his sanity, and it takes all the power he has to avoid launching himself right at him!

And if a human can make him feel this way singing back to him a song filled with poetry and lyrics - rather than a classic, traditional siren's melody - then maybe there's never been anything wrong with Jaskier or the way he's always preferred to sing!

His people made him feel unwanted, but the sea never did! It probably would have been welcoming to a lute-playing merman singing like a bard, if his people hadn't been such close-minded arses!

Jaskier feels at home on land and has never once regretted his choice, but maybe he still has a right to also be a child of the sea, regardless of him having ultimately chosen a pair of legs over his fins!

And maybe Radovid would love to see parts of his old home some day - even if they can only access the surface of it, rather than go explore everything hidden in the water's depths (unless Yennefer has a spell that would allow Radovid to breathe under water as he does. Because Jaskier would never trust a sea witch with Radovid's life!).

And if Jaskier himself can be mesmerized by Radovid's song and feel like he would let that man lead him anywhere and do whatever he wants with him, without any desire to own and control him; maybe he'd simply been trying to connect with the wrong people.

Radovid is the first person he's ever met that seems to be able to connect with both the human and the siren part of him. And when Jaskier offers to help him work on his lute playing and singing, what he's truly saying is that he wants them to learn to harmonize their voices together and create their own melodies...

It's an intimate need Jaskier still has, and he's finally found himself a mate that appears to fully get him, and be able to fulfil those needs.

Of course, then the whole mess with Cirilla happens, and for a moment there Jaskier loses faith that any of it was ever real!

Who was he kidding!? The Redanian Intelligence kept insisting that they knew everything about everyone! Maybe they'd figured out Jaskier used to be a merman, done their research, noticed that Jaskier "fancied" the prince, and instructed him to surprise him and trick him into lowering his defenses, by courting him the way a fellow merman would!

He really should have known!

But then, when he finds Radovid alone, lost, and hiding, he realizes that Radovid had never meant to trick or hurt him.

Radovid had just been genuinely afraid, and trying to deal with the threat of a looming war as best he could by seeking Ciri's help.

And now, the war he'd attempted preventing from happening had begun, he'd clearly internalized Jaskier's earlier blame, and that spoon of a man was sufficiently bonded to him by now that he might just allow himself to be captured and killed if he doesn't do something about it!

And then, Jaskier himself might end up symbolically 'washing ashore' somewhere and letting himself die of heartbreak, for fuck's sake!

Because merpeople are dramatic as fuck and they feel the loss of friends and family in a way that's devastatingly sharp. Being rejected by a queerplatonic or romantic partner - or having them die on them - is the worst type of injury one could inflict upon them!

When he'd sung about having also survived, no thanks to Geralt, he'd fully meant it! That loss had nearly killed him!

If he wants to survive this, he needs to figure out a way to keep Radovid safe, and then make sure that Geralt and the rest of his family are safe also, because he doesn't know how he'd manage to continue to live in this world if the war ends up taking everything from him in a way where all hope would be lost of ever getting any of them back!

[thedemonofcat]

Jaskier had met and married Radovid long before he ever encountered Geralt. Their marriage had initially been part of an arrangement, but they did get along at first.

Over time, however, Jaskier's marriage had deteriorated, prompting him to leave and travel as a bard, where he eventually met Geralt. Soon, Jaskier found himself part of a new, close-knit family with Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri. It became increasingly clear to Jaskier that he would need to pursue a divorce.

When Radovid learns that his husband is in love with someone else—specifically a Witcher—he becomes enraged and determined to reclaim what he believes belongs to him.

[everlastingfable]

I am just so obsessed with toxic ship radskier. like radovid, the bored crowned prince of redania, the jaskier fan boy who wants to play at being a spy. he meets jaskier and oh what a fun game this is, until it's not. and jaskier who initially just wanted to use radovid's power and wealth to get rid of rience and keep the people he loves safe. but radovid is different, he wants to see jaskier beyond his bard persona, something no one else (geralt) has really tried to do. they see right through each other's mask and yet they don't. they're using each other, they love each other, their relationship will bring them ruin

[astaldis]

Witcher Cat Fics

Do you like cats and The Witcher? Then maybe you'll also like Witcher cat fics! (sorry, not Cat Witcher fics). Here is a little list of fics I found that feature cats, but it's certainly not complete. If you know of other Witcher fanfics where a cat plays an important role in the plot, please let me know so I can add it to the list.

Have fun with cats and Witchers!

(The order is totally random)

5 Times Someone Else Had To Watch The Damn Cat

Foltest, Ves, Geralt of Rivia, Iorveth, Silas of the Blue Stripes, G, 500 words:

Five times someone else had to watch Roche's cat.

It's the latest in a series of drabbles about Roche's cat: Kits Out for Temeria by Faetality, check it out, it's so funny!

The Sorceress' Challenge by Annaatemychocolate

Yennefer/Triss, F/F, 11,485 words:

“The Sorceress Yennefer has set a challenge: capture her black cat and retrieve the key around its neck before the end of the month, and you get your wish granted. That’s why everyone’s here.”

Triss’ eyebrows were now dangerously close to disappearing into her hairline. “You’re not serious.”

flowers in every room by SummerFrost

Geralt/Yennefer, Ciri, F/M, 5,077 words:

Hey, Mum! Sorry, I can't stay long, there's this—" Ciri tilts her head. "What's with the cat?"

"Fuck if I know," says Yen.

Aka: The one where Geralt gets turned into a cat and dumped on Yennefer's doorstep.

Here Kitty, Kitty by round_robin

Geralt & Jaskier, Gen, 1,671 words: “Cats don't like—you can't be serious.” Geralt said nothing and Jaskier gasped. “Of all the weird fucking things they did to you, that takes the cake.”

This got a small chuckle. “Oh yes? The heightened senses that bring headaches if I'm in a town too long, the poison tolerance that still hurts like I'm dying, but no, cats hissing at me is clearly the worst...”

Of Wolves and Cats by A_hopeful_disaster

Geralt &/ Jaskier, Gen, 1,353 words: Jaskier adopts a cat. Geralt isnt sure what to think.

The Mystical Divinity of Unashamed Felinity by Star_dancer54

Geralt & Jaskier, Gen, 2,778 words: It's a morning like any other when Geralt wakes up, until he discovers that Jaskier's been turned into a cat. (unfinished)

The Way to a Man's Heart Goes Through His... Cat? by Frywen

Geralt /Jaskier, Cirilla, Yennefer , M/M, 16,861 words: Jaskier is a live-in cat sitter and Roach is the biggest and meanest cat he has ever met. Just what kind of owner does a cat like that have? (unfinished)

Ball of Purr by kentucka

Geralt, Gen, 1,211 words: A fluffy little thing (pun intended) in which Geralt gets to pet a cat.

Cat Got Your Tongue (But I’ve Got Your Heart) by WanderingDrui

Aiden/Lambert, Geralt/Jaskier, M/M, 31,093 words: After the mountain Jaskier throws caution to the winds and decides to use a secret he's kept his entire life to get back at Geralt. He expects a short and petty journey of revenge. Instead he makes new witcher friends, explores his past, and finds peace with who he is and what he wants in life. Meanwhile, Geralt hasn't heard anything about Jaskier since he sent him away and is growing worried.... (WIP)

Lovecats by Lula_Claims_The_Snakeskin_Jacket

Cahir/Yennefer, F/M, 16,404 words: Cahir and Yennefer acquire a stray cat. Or does the cat acquire them? As a witch, Yennefer vibes with cats well. Cahir is sceptical, as to his best knowledge cats are of no use on the battlefield. Obviously, some tensions are inevitable here. But this relationship will, yes, evolve.

powerful by mayoho

Rience, Gen, 100 words: Rience has always been drawn to power, even in the most unexpected places.

Figs and black pepper by calvaria

Assire var Anahid, Merlin (the cat), Gen, 233 words: Assire prefers Merlin to all astrolabes, signs and pendulums.

Cat Comfort by Molanna

Cahir, Assire var Anahid, Merlin (the cat), Gen, 1,805 words: Merlin is not only suddenly brought to a different place by his Witch, but, when he comes back to the apartment late at night from exploring the new garden, he finds a stranger in the bed he is not sure how to feel about at first. (POV Merlin)

A Furry Foundling for the Bard by Molanna

Jaskier/Radovid, M/M, 1,111 words: Jaskier and Radovid are disturbed in their very enjoyable nightly activity by a strange, eerie sound. Luckily, what they find in the street is not a monster but a pleasant surprise.

A Fiery Night by Molanna

Jaskier/Radovid, M/M, 500 words: Jaskier and Radovid are having a great time together at Radovid's little island cottage. Unfortunately, one night, something goes very wrong.

Cat-Napping by Molanna

Rience, Gen, 500 words: Unexpectedly and totally against his will, Rience ends up with a fluffy tabby cat napping in his lap.

[samstree]

“I never…” Geralt’s voice is deep with the promise of sleep. “I never tell you enough.”

“Hmm?”

The forest is shimmering with moonlight when Jaskier cracks open his eyes. Geralt is watching him closely, something soft in his expression. They press together on the small bedroll, knees touching, face to face, breaths settled in the quietness of the night.

“How lucky I am,” Geralt adds. “With you. To have you. I don’t tell you enough.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes, catching the hint of guilt in Geralt’s voice. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not.”

“Hey.” Jaskier finds Geralt’s hand, squeezes in reassurance. He never wants Geralt’s guilt, not when he carries too much of it already. “None of that. Not with me.”

Geralt sighs softly. “See? Too lucky, perhaps. More than I deserve. I just hope…” he pauses, tentative, “that I’m not too late.”

Moonlight threads between the leaves, catching on Geralt’s hair. Hope shines in his eyes when he looks at Jaskier.

He leans forward, tugging Jaskier’s hand to his lips, and kisses his fingers. One kiss leads to another, on the back of his hand, on his wrist, and then…

“Geralt?”

Jaskier’s breath hitches when Geralt presses a kiss on his forehead, affection clear in the way he hides a tiny smile there.

“I’m not too late, am I?”

Their lips brush against each other’s, breaths mixing. Geralt stops there, lingering, waiting, sweet and kind.

Oh, but he is.

He is too late.

Jaskier pulls away, just a little bit, but it took the strength to move between worlds. Their eyes meet, and for once in a poet’s long life, no words are needed.

This should hurt, Jaskier thinks, when Geralt realizes his answer and that smile fades. It does hurt, deep in his chest, an ache that wouldn’t let up for twenty years.

It still won’t let up, the unfairness of it all.

“Oh.” Geralt retreats, letting go of Jaskier’s hand. “I am.”

Something within Jaskier shudders. “Yeah.”

“I see.”

Coldness surrounds him when Geralt pulls away, turning his back. Jaskier sleeps under the silvery moonlight, fingers still touching his lips.

He dreams of the hope in Geralt’s eyes.

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Radskier kinky fic. They're both trans masc and Radovid is developing his stern title. 😉

Cw: implied bondage, dom/sub

“Radovid, please, I beg of you.”

Red shoes stopped in front of him and a hand gripped his chin, tilting his head up to peer into dark blue eyes behind blonde curls.

Those eyes darted back and forth over his face, studying him curiously.

“I didn’t think I would have you begging so quickly.”

There was a faint hint of a smile on Radovid’s face as he brushed his thumb over Jaskier’s lips, making him shiver in his bonds.

“Please,” he breathed, parting his mouth and licking over the digit, urging it inside.

Radovid inhaled sharply, his eyes following the movement of a teasing tongue circling around the tip.

Tagged by @cha-melodius today and previously @echo-bleu (sorry it's taken me so long).

Tagging @flawney @flootzavut @iwillbringyouruin @karolincki @janjan-the-ninth @limerental @underthebluerain @panur if you wanna do it.

[vanmarkus]

Can you imagine radskier meeting for the first time after their fall-out? Maybe Jaskier had to leave Radovid behind to take Ciri and run and Radovid had to go back to his brother and act like his heart wasn't bleeding. And now they're here.

Jaskier is babbling on nervously, trying to fill in the deafening silence with anything else but the shrill sound of betrayal and Radovid, well... he finds it hard to form words, as his throat sticks together with the gathering saliva signalling tears or sickness, he's not sure.

It's when their eyes finally meet that Jaskier's words die on his lips, just when Radovid finds the strenght to speak.

"You know, it is funny how I thought I'll be the one having to make amends."

Jaskier doesn't know what to say, so he stays quiet. "I'm not mad, in case you were wondering, I'm just..." His lips tremble and he swallows thickly. "I suppose I just expected it to go differently, is all."

Jaskier can feel his chest tighten at the sight of Radovid's forced smile and shiny eyes. He takes a tentative step towards him, slowly reaching out, giving him the opportunity to stop Jaskier, but he looks defeated, like a stray puppy lying down in the dirt, his fate already accepted.

Jaskier tucks a soft lock of hair behind his ear, as if an echo to their first kiss.

"I'm here now."

"Yeah" Radovid chuckles wetly, his gaze breaking away from Jaskier, as his tears start to trickle down his cheeks silently.

"Hey, hey I mean it." Jaskier runs his fingers down to the prince's chin to tilt his head up softly, drawing soothing circles over his skin with his thumb, smudging the wet tracks away. "Radovid, I—"

"Did it... did it mean anything to you? That night." He clarifies as if Jaskier needs a reminder, as if he wasn't aching with their parting, missing Radovid daily like a severed limb, a part of himself he barely just found, yet felt like he's known since his birth.

"My dear Prince, it meant everything." He whispers, his breath ghosting against Radovid's lips without closing the distance; this time he wants the other to give his permission. And he does.

Radovid kisses him with fervour and with such a small move he pulls months of longing, pain and passion onto the surface as if they were there all along. He fists the back of Jaskier's coat like a drowning man would cling onto the last floating piece of a broken ship.

When they finally pull back, just enough to tip their foreheads together and pant into each other's mouth, Jaskier laughs shakily.

"Fogive me." He whispers, hands roaming up and down Radovid's arms. "I did what I had to do to protect the people I love, without realising I should've counted you among them. Forgive me." He repeats.

"Jaskier" Radovid squeezes the fabric over his shoulders to push him back, just enough to look him in the eyes properly. "What are you saying?"

Jaskier runs his hands along the prince's arms once again just to softly pull them away and lift his hands to his own lips. "I'm saying," he kisses each knuckle as he mumbles into the cold skin there. "Let's not part ways this time."

[tears-and-smiles-ao3]

Jaskier visits a brothel in a non-descript town, only to see the King of Redania lying half naked on the bed.

"Radovid, what are you doing here?" he gasps.

"I wanted to see you," Radovid smiles. "Come on, we've only so much time before the guards discover I'm gone."

[my-jokes-are-my-armour]

Oh boi ! I was writting the end of Bloebheris (for those who are still interested in that story) and I suddenly came to a conclusion which gives me ideas for a radskier fiction.

I know this is Dijkstra that is the man behind the elves smugglers in the end but what if Radovid was one of the anonymous benefactors to the network.

He discovers Jaskier's work incidentally and falls in love with him even more. So he is working on the side because he doesn't want to get caught by his brother and Dijkstra doing illegal things. He doesn't know the connexion yet but he tries to do good.

So when they meet in person - something that he forced to happen let's not forget that Philippa had left him behind first - he used the Song of the Seven to let him know that he is on his side.

Shit ! I have ideas of alternate OC there 🥴

[ladynearthelake]

More Radskier? More Radskier!