#tattoo artist!jaskier

[chaosandorder46]

OK...the glassblowing AU was spawned in the comment section of a current WIP. Triss is the very single artist/owner of a glassblowing studio, somehow Sabrina makes her way into a class, and the rest is history. This one will probably lean toward the sillier side, because DID YOU KNOW THE FURNACE IN GLASSBLOWING IS REFERRED TO AS A GLORY HOLE? Jaskier and Yen have things to say about that.

Next, we have a smirking, but reserved owner of a shop selling fountain pens, specialty inks, paper, etc (deVries stationary) located next to a tattoo shop. The new artist is a bit chaotic, but has flowing black hair and the most unique purple eyes. Their lives intersect...the rest is history. This would probably be more serious, but also, I can't really take anything seriously?

[systenowy-blog]

Host

look: height - short (155 cm) eyes - hazel? hair - brown that could dye green tattoos - sun and moon on knees in hs piercings - piercings/earrings childish voice, makes weird random noises, creates her own words and twists them (wymienia r z l w słowie np garelia czy kernel) shuffle shoes when walking usually makes weird poses and faces - very expressive, can spin around due to autism or do smth with her hands because of that, childish behavior, covers ears when in panic or rocks back and forth, flaps arms/hands (autism), jumps up and down etc. i lubi nosić smycz czy coś innego do skubania jak się denerwuje her personality is more like a sidekick (for example Mushu or squirrel from Over the hedge as she's not a prince[ss]), Gordon Ramsay (Brandon said so), Ellie (The last of us) and Jaskier (Witcher)

interests:

games like Epistory typing chronicles, Syberia, The sims series, Choices but lately it's too sexual for her, car racing games on PC, Criminal case, trivia, unihockey and badminton, board games, jigsaw puzzles, poker online, FOE, Chickensmoothie, Nationstates, dress up games and maybe CAH

fashion, collecting, thrifting, interior design, maximalism (Iris Apfel), vintage, plushies, clowns, trolls, Moomins

making collages and eventually scrapbooking, drawing, writing

movies (also how they are made and acting)

true crime a little

Eurovision, singing, a bit dancing and listening to music (also music videos), likes variety of genres: especially christmas vintage music, alternative/indie and 80s but mostly melancholic music lately, fav bands: Ashbury Heights, Alphaville, Melanie Martinez, Temples, Rome, Simon & Garfunkel, Hole, Tegan and Sara, Queen, fav songs: Logical song, People are lonely, Letter to God, Swim -Boy epic, Flowers - Miley Cyrus and Benee - Green honda, Hollow - Dons and Rim tim tagi dim - Baby lasagna etc.

fav car is DeLorean but also loves Dodges and jeeps, might be interested in old automobiles and big motorcycles but not as much as Nat, tries to drive in hs a little and rides horses, tiry

quizzes, surveys

only surprises she likes are those Kinder ones (and similar like the ones attached to juice or water bottles)

favorite artists - Tim Walker, Andy Goldsworthy, Marina Abramovic, Leonora Carrington, Remedios Varo, fav art: Krzyk - Munch and a dog figure from our neighboring city

likes puns/word play and reference humor or smth like Simpsons

favorite color - neon/lime green, black, mustard and yellow, identifies with blue sometimes tho favorite number - 6 and 7

favorite season - summer

favorite plant - many like sunflowers and weeping willows or succulents

favorite animal - raccoon but also likes elephants and small dogs like pugs and chihuahuas, will spot cats but mixed feelings about those, will visit pet stores on occassions

food (her fav or trying new stuff)

favorite emoji - poop

[wavehq]

enjoy limitless possibilities here in celestire islands, rosemary winters ( resident evil ), miranda vanderbilt ( monster prom ), writer barbie ( barbie ), and julian alfred pankratz/jaskier/dandelion ( the witcher ), where you can start the new life you've always longed for. make sure you read the checklist, as we'll be sending the discord link through ims! enjoy your new dream, kaz!

( resident evil, dupes not allowed. jenna ortega, she/her, demi-woman. ) ——- hey, is that ( rosemary winters ) hanging around ( lunalia animal shelter )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty one ) year old ( tattoo artist apprentice ) and ( skateboarding )? they’re notorious for being ( devoted ) yet ( insecure ), and i always seem to hear ( strange ) by ( blood orchid ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( getting into a fist fight in high school ), and they’re associated with ( an icy chill spreading from their fingertips, sitting alone at lunch in school, always having headphones on blasting music ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( having to leave her dad behind ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ kaz, 30 / cst. they/them ]

( monster prom, dupes not allowed. havana rose liu, she/they, bigender. ) ——- hey, is that ( miranda vanderbilt ) hanging around ( astera beachfront )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty three ) year old ( heiress and actress ) and ( collecting silverware )? they’re notorious for being ( family-oriented ) yet ( naive ), and i always seem to hear ( bev hills ) by ( not the main characters ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( convincing people she was a real life princess ), and they’re associated with ( a shiny crown adorned by silky hair, dark thoughts stated in a cutesy tone, the vast expanse of the cold dark ocean ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( not fulfilling her family duties ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ kaz, 30 / cst. they/them ]

( barbie (2023 movie), dupes allowed sorta. quintessa swindell, they/he, non-binary. ) ——- hey, is that ( writer barbie/barbara 'babs' wright ) hanging around ( enchanted brews )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( twenty four ) year old ( author ) and ( reading books )? they’re notorious for being ( scholarly ) yet ( easily influenced ), and i always seem to hear ( bejeweled ) by ( taylor swift ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( getting their first book published ), and they’re associated with ( dancing to choreographed songs each night, waking up with a smile on their face, expressing themselves through words on a page ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( watching the zack snyder cut ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ kaz, 30 / cst. they/them. ]

( the witcher (games & show), dupes not allowed. tony thornburg, he & they, demi man. ) ——- hey, is that ( julian alfred pankratz/jaskier/dandelion ) hanging around ( enchanted brews )? i wonder what life is like for them, balancing working as a ( thirty five ) year old ( singer ) and ( poet )? they’re notorious for being ( flirtatious ) yet ( unnecessarily dramatic ), and i always seem to hear ( writer in the dark ) by ( lorde ) playing whenever they walk past. they’re known around the islands for ( booking their first gig ), and they’re associated with ( the scratching of quill and ink against parchment, running alongside wolves, the power of words in tense situations ). last we spoke, they were telling me about a vision they had… something about their biggest regret being ( losing track of ciri ), but it must have just been a bad dream. // — [ kaz, 30 / cst. they/them. ]

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Honeysuckle

hi i have no self control and really really really love tattoo artist!jaskier so here we are again. this is a prequel to the nipple piercings fic wherein geralt is absolutely smitten from day one. not the same vibe but im telling myself thats to be expected bc these take place like five years apart lol

Warnings: tattoos. if they make you squeamish this is not your fic, swearing, mild anxiety, not much else

___________________

Geralt’s palms were sweating when he walked into the little tattoo shop above his favorite deli. The artist he booked was nice enough in the email, and the front desk gal was sweet on the phone, but he’d never gotten a tattoo before and his anxiety was telling him to run home and bury himself under all the blankets he owned. 

A familiar voice greeted him when he came through the door, “Hey! Sweet, you’re early! Jask is just setting up the chair!” 

The coily brown haired receptionist gestured to a black leather couch across the room and Geralt just barely caught a glimpse of tattooed vines from under her hoodie sleeve. He nodded and smiled, taking a seat and trying not to look so stiff. The receptionist called another artist over and Geralt was surprised when the taller, purple eyed woman wrapped her arms around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her cheek as they looked at the monitor. It was the good kind of surprise, Geralt decided, the kind that sets you at ease when you were gearing up for a fight. The receptionist caught his unintentional smile and winked at him before he suddenly found his nail beds fascinating.

“You Geralt?”

His eyes scanned over the man asking from bottom to top and nearly lost his ability to speak, “Hm? Thats me.”

He looked like he came straight form the Seattle grunge scene in the 90’s, but showered and with beautiful floral blackout sleeves up to the wrists on each arm. It seemed the only color over his whole body was the few yellow buttercups scattered through the pattern, ending in a bouquet of all sorts of plants and flowers and herbs at his collar bones, only slightly covered by his Heathers on Broadway tank. 

He flicked his wispy brown hair out of his unreasonably pretty blue eyes and smiled so brilliantly Geralt had to remember to breathe, “I’m Jaskier. Come on back!”

Geralt gave him a curt nod and stood to follow. 

“I hope you brought shorts, it might be a bitch to walk home in that.” Jaskier said, leading him into one of the rooms down a long hallway.

Geralt was suddenly regretting listening to Lambert. He wanted to melt into the floor when he realized he would have to say this to the beautiful tattoo artist’s face, “They uh… they zip away…”

“Oh my god.” Jaskier breathed, finally looking at Geralt’s knees, “I didn’t even know they made those anymore.”

“I swear to god, my brother wears them for work and told me to-”

Jaskier waved his hand, clearly holding back a smile, “No worries, Ron Stoppable.”

Geralt rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep from smiling, “Do you make a habit of making fun of your clients?”

“Only when I’m sure they can handle it,” he teased, “Now off with the hideous zipper pants, I gotta shave your thigh before I start the drawing.”

Once Geralt was shaved and positioned every which way on the table/chair contraption, he finally got to see the rough sketch. The marker felt cool and tickled the back of his knee, but surprisingly to him, he kept up a relaxed conversation, almost flirting before he thought better of it. 

“Do you like where everything is? Want any more grass? Or flowers? Now’s the time for changes, don’t be shy.” 

Geralt turned his leg this way and that, looking at the little blue and purple marks in a band just above his knee in the mirror, “You’re the professional, what do you think?”

Jaskier took a step back and reached for a roll of paper towels and a bottle of rubbing alcohol, “You said this was your first tattoo right?”

Geralt nodded.

“Okay, one less flower on the back then.”

“Why?”

“It’s one of the most painful places to get tattooed.”

“Keep it. I like it.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow, “Alright, Hot Shot. Face down, we’ll start there first.”

Holy fuck Jaskier was right. Geralt had a high pain tolerance, but this was a whole different kind of pain. He had his arms crossed under his forehead and was doing his best to take deep, even breaths but Jesus Christ, that little chuckle-fuck just kept going over what felt like the same spot. But hell would freeze over before Geralt tapped out, so he forced his breath out and kept going.

“Why honeysuckle?” Jaskier asked as he sat back to dip the machine in more ink.

Geralt took the opportunity to shift a bit and breathe easy before he lied, “Just picked it.”

Jaskier’s hands were back on his thigh, “You don’t have to tell me, it’s just not something I’m asked to do very often. Never for a first tattoo.”

Geralt’s smile turned into a grimace as the needles were back at his skin. Whether it was his sincerity, pretty eyes, or Geralt’s desperate need for a distraction, he bucked up and answered his question, “My- ah, someone told me to find a reminder of things I loved. My horse eats nothing but honeysuckle whenever we go on the trails.”

"That's so fucking cute," Jaskier sighed, still attacking the back of Geralt's leg, "Wouldn't have pegged you for a horse guy. What's their name?" 

The pain was easier to ignore when Geralt was rambling about Roach. Jaskier kept the conversation flowing, maybe indulging Geralt’s ramblings a little too much, but by the time he flipped Geralt over to do the inside of his knee they were joking and swapping disastrous college stories like old friends. They took a snack break where the purple eyed woman, Yennefer he'd learned, made fun of his zip shorts and Triss scolded her. It was nice, he felt oddly at home here with these people he’d just met. 

The front half of the tattoo was nothing compared to the back and Geralt was able to breathe and just chat. He did his best to convince himself that the feeling in his chest wasn’t disappointment when Jaskier finally finished and wrapped his leg in saniderm. 

Jaskier leaned on the front desk while they waited for Geralt’s card to run, "What are you doing after this?" 

Geralt's stomach turned with nervous excitement and he truly didn't know how he got his words to come out so casual, "Was just gonna get some ramen and watch reruns, why?" 

Jaskier worried at his bottom lip as he stapled the receipt to some paperwork, "There's a great ramen place around the corner and I don't have another appointment tonight…" 

Geralt positively beamed, "If you can stand to be seen with someone wearing zipper shorts in public, I'd love to."

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier tattoo artist AU of my dreams:

-Geralt is one of those hidden gems in terms of tattoo artistry like he has absolutely no social media, most people who walk into his shop - a nondescript red-brick building with the smallest sign in some long-dead scripture - turn on their heels as soon as they are met with his grumpy glower; the only way he does get traffic is word of mouth; he's reliable, excels at his craft, just not good at the interpersonal side of things. The fact that he constantly has circles under his eyes and is inked toe to neck doesn't help

-One day, Geralt is just about to clean up, a man crashes into his shop, panting, hair tousled; he has the prettiest eyes, but doesn't look like a potential customer. "Sorry, was chased by an angry ex."

-"If you don't want to get inked, get out of here," Geralt barks and the man grins. "On second thought..."

-And Jaskier knows his agent will kill him for this, but he can't stop himself; one look at the brooding tattoo artist and Jaskier's practically crawling onto his table; okay, yes, he can be impulsive at times, and as a model, he should think long and hard before getting ink, but dammit he's intrigued; he figures he can always become a tattoo model

-"What do you want?" the man says, Geralt judging by the minimalistic business cards scattered over his counter; "Small thing really," Jaskier says, positive this is the man of his dreams "A buttercup blossom. On my wrist if you please."; so, Jaskier gets his first tattoo

-inevitably, Jaskier returns. Geralt greets him with a raised eyebrow - you again? - but is all too happy to comply when Jaskier says "Anything. Anything you always wanted to ink on someone, your pick" because for some inconceivable reason, Jaskier trusts this man with his skin, his future (his life if he wants to be melodramatic)

-While Geralt grunts and mutters to himself and his tattoo machine which he's named Roach (???), Jaskier wanders into the backroom. It's a simple room with a kitchenette and a table that is cluttered with paper. On closer inspection, Jaskier realizes they are pictures Geralt has drawn, most of them of fantasy creatures with elongated limbs, blood-dripping fangs, leathery wings. They aren't pretty but god, they are beautiful; "Get your pasty ass over here," Geralt calls then and Jaskier decides to pay him a hefty tip

-Jaskier leaves the shop hours later, a pack of wolves chasing each other up his left thigh. He's high on adrenaline and joy and he has a fucking plan; Jaskier calls his agent and tells him to cancel all jobs, tells him he quits; he has enough Instagram followers to make this work anyway

-the next time Jaskier brings a pack of nails and a hammer, about a dozen picture frames. "Your first two tattoos should heal before we put any more on you," Geralt says by way if greeting and Jaskier laughs. "I'm not here for that." Geralt makes helpless noises and watches in a sort of shocked paralysis as Jaskier frames his artwork and decorates one of the blank walls with it. The next customer that wanders in stays

-the next time Jaskier brings his friend Priscilla. They met on a photoshoot and have been trying to outdo each other since so naturally, she has to get inked too; Geralt gives them matching wild flower wreaths that curl around their upper arms and sends them on their way. Priscilla becomes a regular, brings a friend, and the dominoes start toppling

-the next time Jaskier brings a camera and teaches Geralt the in and outs of Instagram photography. Geralt doesn't join willingly, complains that he is a tattoo artist not a photographer and definitely no influencer, but when he gains 200 followers on the first day (not without Jaskier virtually nudging people) he starts to understand Jaskier's endgame

-the next time, Jaskier brings a giant plank of wood and buckets of paint. "You need a better sign." That night, Geralt marks him with a quote from a song they both like, nestled against Jaskier's collarbone

-So, Jaskier devotes all his time to building up Geralt's shop, his client base, his social media platform and gains a footing for himself as an independent tattoo model; he has an eye for these things; it works out

-Inevitably, Geralt and him get talking, grow closer over the long hours Geralt spends bent over Jaskier's body. Inevitably, Jaskier falls in love with Geralt, a little more every day. He's more than surprised when one day - Geralt had been working on Jaskier's backpiece, the ruins of a medieval stronghold overgrown with ivy and lichen - Geralt puts down his machine and hesitates before starting his aftercare routine. "Let it settle for a moment. You can sit up." Jaskier does only to find his face cupped by fingers stained with ink and blood. He gulps heavily, light-headed from the constant painful scratching on his back, and waits. Geralt tilts his head to the side, Geralt smiles. Geralt kisses him.

-"I never asked for any of this," Geralt says one night when the lay together in bed after sex because for once, no major part of Jaskier's body is still raw from fresh ink. "So?" Jaskier asks and kisses Geralt's nose. So, nothing.

The End.

[pillage-and-lute]

Pins and Needles

Part 1(here),  Part 2

There is not enough cute little AU’s in this fandom. (There’s never enough) so I decided to be part of the solution, rather than the problem. Fluffy flower shop/tattoo shop au. +Bonus Bookstore owner Yenneferm (eventually)

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The storefront across from Geralt’s family shop had been empty for months. It used to hold a small accounting firm but the firm had merged with another one and the little show was empty. It was a good space, Geralt had thought. The windows maybe weren't big enough for a display for, say, a bakery, but it was a good spot. 

And, of course, it was right across from Morhen Floral Arrangements, the best florist shop in the whole damn city.

Geralt contained a proud smile as he trimmed a sunflower stem. He’d worked hard to get his shop to where it was. Just recently they’d bought a greenhouse on the edge of the city and Eskel was happily buying as many types of rare and tropical flowers as he could find at various nurseries all around the state. Vesemir, who insisted constantly that he was retired, was keeping the rosebushes in the greenhouse at a painstaking state of perfection.

Along with their partnership with Aiden and Lambert’s event planning business, everything was perfect. Ciri was busy with school, ice hockey, and judo, but picked up weekend shift in the shop when she could. Geralt had life completely figured out. 

The fact that they were going to have new neighbors wasn’t going to throw a wrench in anything at all. Nope. Geralt wasn’t anxious or anything. 

Eskel had teased him about the vulture-like way he’d been watching the workmen in the shop across the street. They’d been putting in new floors and counters, painting the walls, even changing the front door. 

Today, a pretty blonde and a svelte but hirsute man were struggling up on two small ladders, trying to put up a new, eye-peelingly yellow, awning by themselves. 

Geralt swore under his breath as he saw them struggling. He had his phone in-hand in case of an emergency as the ladders rocked. Why on earth hadn’t they just had the workmen put up the awning too instead of these obvious amatures?

The man’s ladder rocked again and Geralt set down his sunflowers with a thud. One or both of the idiots was going to get themselves killed. He crossed the street at double speed, eyes locked on where the ladder was set on uneven pavement and rocking dangerously. 

Above, the man reached back, trying to stretch the canvas around the corner of the frame. His heel slipped off the step of the ladder and he let go of the awning with a shout.

Geralt dove the last couple feet, catching the man bridal style before he could hit the ground.

His eyes were so, so blue. 

His shirt was also undone just unethically low, giving more than a glimpse of the chest hair Geralt had noticed, even from across the street.

He set the man down hurriedly and stuck out his hand. “Geralt,” he said.

“Gesundheit,” said the brunette man, grinning.

“No, I mean, it’s my name,” Geralt rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. The man laughed.

“I know, I’m Jaskier.”

“Gesundheit,” Geralt returned, just to hear that lovely laugh again. 

“So,” said the blonde woman, stepping off her ladder. “You’re the florist?”

Geralt shrugged, “that’s me.”

“How lovely, we’ve been dying to meet you. I’m Priscilla.”

Geralt looked up at the awning, still flapping awkwardly. It read Pins and Needles Body Art.

“Tattoos?”

“And piercings,” the blonde, Priscilla, said. “I do the piercings and any American Traditional or Japanese Traditional tattooing, Jaskier does all the rest of the tattoos.”

“Priscilla did her apprenticeship in Japan,” Jaskier explained, obviously proud of his maybe-girlfriend.

“That’s very nice,” Geralt said, at a loss. “Can I help you with the awning?”

With Geralt steadying the ladders, the awning went up in no time, and Geralt was given a very warm thank you by Jaskier which made the back of his neck heat up. 

He spent the rest of the day feverishly putting together bouquets and very much not thinking about pretty tattoo artists or their frightening and talented girlfriends.

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This will be a little series, but I don’t know how long or how frequent the updates will be.

[maythefandomsbwithu]

Hey I decided to post this on Tumblr cuz why not

tattoo artist Geralt/florist jaskier 1

It was just another day for Jaskier. It was June and business was booming. Or should he say blooming, he was a florist after all. The wedding season was well under way and orders were coming flooding in. He couldn’t wait for Ciri to finish her exams so she could help out in the shop more but for now he had to manage on his own.

He owned a quaint little shop called Dandelions Aren’t Weeds in a reasonably quiet part of town. It didn’t seem like much to an outsider but to Jaskier it was his pride and joy. He spent his days tending the plants and catering to his customers’ needs, often with a fresh bloom tucked behind his ear. He took pride not only in his business but in his appearance as well, dressing in fine, brightly coloured clothes that complimented his complexion, with just a light smear of makeup, the boldest on a day to day basis being a dark streak of liner under each eye. He looked as pretty and delicate as the flowers he sold but appearances could be deceiving.

The only thing out of the ordinary in the past weeks was all the work that had been going on the renovate the shop next door. Rumours had been doing the rounds of what it would be when it was finished. By the look of it, the one that proved to be right was that it was going to be a tattoo shop. Jaskier hoped it wouldn’t be off putting to some of his customers with more…traditional values. By the looks of it, it was due to open any day. He hoped his new neighbours would be nicer than the last ones. He sighed and continued putting together an arrangement. He had too much work to do to worry about that right now.

Another few weeks passed and Ciri finished her exams. He was definitely grateful to have an extra pair of hands; his niece was marvellous. She’d been helping him out at the weekends while she was in school. He’d decided to take her on full time over the summer, he needed the help and she was saving for a car. He definitely appreciated having someone to talk to with Ciri’s sharp wit and general good humour. Most people didn’t realise they were related though, they couldn’t see past Ciri’s blond tresses and paler skin. However, if one observed her carefully, her mannerisms were similar to Jaskier’s and she had the same glint in her eye just before she made a smart-assed comment.

The tattoo shop next door had opened too, a steady stream of people going in and out. Jaskier has yet to meet his new neighbours though. Oh well, he presumes they are busy with their opening week or something like that. He’d bump into them eventually.

Jaskier had been doing a bit of tidying up one evening. Even though they technically weren’t closed because the door was still open, it was too late for any more customers so he had sent Ciri to go and get them both a coffee from the café down the road and popped in his headphones. He hummed and bopped his way around the floor, cleaning as he went. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice the man who’d come in until he walked straight into him.

Jaskier snapped out of his day dream to find a man who was basically a blonde, tattooed superman standing in his flower shop. His long hair was drawn back from his face in a bun, accentuating a jawline Jaskier could cut himself on and, holy shit! Did he have gold eyes?!? He thought this stranger looked fantastic. Oh shit, he was staring at Jaskier, he should probably snap out of it and say something.

* Bad Jaskier! * He internally chided himself. *No ogling! *

“Can I help you mister….?” Jaskier asked, clearing his throat and yanking out his headphones. He had to be professional.

“Geralt, Geralt Rivia. I own the tattoo shop next door.” The man, Geralt, offered his hand. Jaskier noted then that if he wanted to, this guy could probably break his entire hand. However, while firm, the handshake bore no ill intent. Good.

“Ah! My new neighbour! Julian Alfred Pankratz, at your service, but I prefer Jaskier.” He gave a flourishing bow. When he said he’d bump into the neighbours eventually he hadn’t meant literally. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence this evening?” *Nothing like laying it on thick Jaskier* he thought to himself, inwardly cringing at his own eagerness.

~~ time rewind~~

Geralt was relieved the day that White Wolf Tattoos finally opened for business. The renovations and paper work of starting out on his own had caused him mountains of stress. But he had known it would all be worth it once he got up and running, and away from her.

Her being his ex-girlfriend and ex-boss Renfri. He knew from the start that mixing work and pleasure would be a bad idea but at the time he’d been too loved up to care. Everything had seemed fine at the start but she gradually showed her true colours, growing more manipulative and egotistical as their relationship progressed. It was stifling. He had no reprieve, even when they’d split, he’d see her at work every day. He couldn’t take it anymore.

That was how he came to leave Cursed Princess Tattoos to start up on his own. Well, not completely alone. He had Yennefer. Granted, she was his ex too, a long time ago, but they’d parted as friends and continued as such ever since. She had been his rock during the aftermath of his break up with Renfri. She let him live with her until he found his feet again, she’d become his business partner and done the lion’s share of the paper work while he nursed his broken heart. He didn’t know what he’d do without her.

It had taken months but his shop was finally about to take off, he could feel it. A number of his old clients had followed him when he’d left Renfri’s shop, insistent that he was the only reason they ever went near the place. There were new clients too, as expected in a new part of town, that flocked to his shop. Thanks to Yennefer, social media pages had acted as some of his best advertising. He was finally making a real name for himself.

The first week had flown by. He and Yennefer had been run off their feet constantly but he assumed things would calm down after a while. Thankfully a short period of calm came on Saturday evening, his last appointment finished sooner than expected so he could take a break and do some exploring in the neighbourhood. Yennefer assured him she could hold the fort, allowing him to take a walk.

As he’d wandered out of the shop his gaze fell on the florist’s next door. A client he had consulted earlier that day had mentioned wanting a floral piece, a flower shop was a great place to find inspiration. At first, he’d thought they might be closed but the door was open. As he entered his eyes fell on the most gorgeous man sweeping the floor. His brown hair looked soft and artfully styled; a yellow flower perched behind his ear. His dark eyeliner only emphasised how bright the blue of his eyes was, matched by his stylish blue shirt and jeans. He was stunning. Geralt was smitten. He’d realised long ago that he liked men and women but he hadn’t come across a man that he found so attractive in years.

He snapped out of his daze and cleared his throat hoping to get the man’s attention. No response. He tried again and still nothing. He stepped forward to tap the man on the shoulder only for him to turn around and walk straight into Geralt’s chest.

They stood for a moment, both dazed and staring at each other before the florist broke their silence.

“Can I help you mister…?” He’d trailed off while he yanked is headphones out. *Ah,* thought Geralt, *that’s why he didn’t notice me come in.* Geralt immediately offered his hand.

“Geralt, Geralt Rivia. I own the tattoo shop next door.” He shook the florist’s hand firmly, a hint of a smile going unnoticed in his eyes. He generally kept a very stoic outward demeanour.

“Ah! My new neighbour! Julian Alfred Pankratz, at your service, but I prefer Jaskier.”

So that was his name. Jaskier. He quirked an eyebrow at the flamboyant bow he received and resisted the urge to scoff. This was a lively one, he could tell. He practically radiated positive energy.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence this evening?” Jaskier asked him. Another eyebrow quirk, his presence was a pleasure then, was it?

~~~Back to presnt~~~

“I came for inspiration.” He stated simply. It was the truth. He watched Jaskier’s face split into a grin.

“Oh really?” the florist, “In that case, I can very much help you. How do you want me?” With that he struck a ridiculous pose and made what Geralt could only presume he thought to be a model face, which was more of an exaggerated pout. He could only scoff and roll his eyes at the antics, ignoring any possible subtext of the latter comment.

“For a floral tattoo.” He clarified, watching as Jaskier’s smile never faltered.

Okay, maybe Jaskier was being a little too flirtatious with the ‘how do you want me’ thing but in his defence, Geralt never even flinched, merely rolled his eyes and moved on. He’d take that as a good sign.

“Ah! That I can help with too.” He gestured grandly around the shop. “See anything you like the look of?” He knew he certainly did, watching Geralt like a hawk as he had a glance around the shop. That man was something to behold.

Geralt shrugged, and moved to browse around the shop. If he was honest, the thing he most liked the look of was the owner, not his wares. He pushed that thought from his head and thought about his client. What had they discussed before?

“Sunflowers.” He said aloud, “My client said something about sunflowers.” He cast his gaze over the room searching for a bright flash of yellow, but although there were plenty of yellow flowers, there seemed to be no sunflowers. He frowned.

Jaskier noticed the frown. “I’m sorry. They’re quite popular at this time of the year, we sold out some time this afternoon.” It was just then that a flash of brilliance struck his brain. “Although, we’ll be getting more in first thing on Monday morning, if you would like to come by then?” He suggested, trying to mask the eagerness in his voice at the opportunity to see the tattoo artist again. He hadn’t known the man for more than five minutes but he felt drawn to him, despite the intimidating aura he gave off. He wanted to get to know him.

Geralt gave a deep, non-committal “Hmm.” As he glanced around the shop once more, before returning his gaze to the florist. He considered it. His client definitely said sunflowers specifically. And he certainly would not be opposed to seeing Jaskier again. He almost shook his head physically as he rid himself of that thought. *Stop it, its far too soon after her to be thinking about someone in that way* he reasoned with himself. While yes, the man was attractive, he knew nothing about him. They might have absolutely nothing in common. He might be just another heartbreak waiting to happen. With his stupid grin, and his stupid hair and his stupid, pretty eyes. *Fuck. * He needed to get a grip. Still, it wouldn’t do any harm to come back, with his customer’s best interests in mind, of course;

“Sure, I can find time.” That’s it Geralt, play it cool. He didn’t need to go rushing into anything. Besides it was basically just business and there’s no harm in being civil to the guy. Who knows, they might end up friends. Well, maybe acquaintances.

Jaskier tried to quell the traitorous swell of hope in his chest that he might have something resembling a chance with this guy. But, hey, if not maybe they could be friends at least. But for now, he must remain calm.

“Great, we open at nine.” He beamed. He glanced at the clock on the wall. Was that the time? “Also, we’re technically closed at the minute so….” He trailed off hoping Geralt would take the hint. While he would love to stand and chat all night, he had things to do.

Geralt answered with another “Hmm.”, this one more amused than the last. The smaller man certainly wasn’t behind the door. Normally most people would be more intimidated and would not try to get rid of his in such an unsubtle way.

“I’ll see you Monday then.” And with that he turned on his heel and left without another word.

“Nice meeting you!” Jaskier called after him with a wave. He was dumbfounded by the tattoo artist next door. He was so brooding and mysterious. A man of very few words and yet Jaskier was hanging off every “hmm”, let alone word. He needed to snap out of this. It was just a silly crush. And he could only imagine the stick he’d get if Ciri copped on. Speaking of, where was she with his iced latte? He needed to cool off.

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Tattooist AU. I don’t know how this works but bare with me here.

I reckon that when they met Jaskier walked into Geralt’s shop, wanting to have a look at the tattoo shop that he was hearing so much about. When he sees a child sitting behind the front counter he nearly calls the cops right there and then but then she lights up and calls out to her father. The man that walks into the room is, in Jaskier’s words, a walking wet dream. He’s huge and has long white hair and striking gold eyes that pin Jaskier right to the spot. The bard just kind of stares for a moment before the man’s words register, “What do you want?”

Jaskier’s done a lot of dumb things throughout his life but deciding on the spot to get a tattoo because he wanted this mystery man’s hands touching him is probably one of the dumbest. The man just grunts, leads him off to some corner table and shows Jaskier some designs. The bard picks one at random (which actually isn’t that bad he decided when he’s looking at it after they finish)

Geralt gives the tattoo, wondering how the fuck someone can talk so damn much while wincing and yelling every thirty seconds. But he will admit, the chatter is nice. It fills the usual silence of the shop and Geralt isn’t too opposed to it.

When they finish Jaskier is honest to god loving his Spurr of the moment tattoo. He’s also loving the lingering heat from where the mystery man touched him.

So, running on adrenaline and excitement he turns to the man abruptly and blurts, “Date?” Which, Jaskier decides, is definitely the dumbest thing he’s ever done. Dumber than the decision to get the tattoo. The bard stands there, staring at the man and fidgeting, trying to hide the grimace of mortification.

“Friday night. 9pm.” And just like that the man leaves. Leaves Jaskier to stand there dumbly, staring after him with his mouth opening and closing like a fish. A small snicker is what breaks him out of his trance, making him turn around and come face to face with the shit eating grin of a twelve year old, “He likes you.” Jaskier snorts softly, ignoring the words but internally screaming like a school kid at the prospect of this man liking him. It’s just too much for the bard’s heart to take.

[capsule-cosplay]

Big thanks to @melaniehouperttattoo from @les_enfantsparticuliers.tattoo [Instagram]

For this such wonderful work!

And of course @Sayuri527art [Twitter] for the big inspiration on the first design 🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏🙏💗💗💗

[doyawitchering]

Where are the flowershop x tattoo artist aus where geralt runs the flowershop?

[toriyardleyart]

Yay I actually remembered to post my art on here haha!!

✏️ I don’t really have an excuse... yes I drew yet another portrait of @joeybateyofficial I’m so sorry... 😂 I had a bit of spare time tonight to myself and I was in an arty mood haha

[darkverrmin]

*the boys arriving at kaer morhen for the winter*

Eskel, staring at Lambert’s bicep, chuckling: ...Is that a tattoo?

Lambert: Fuck off, Eskel.

Eskel: Why does it look unfinished?

Geralt, smiling: Because he ran away from the artist in the middle of it.

Lambert: Fuck you!

Eskel: *laughing* Seriously? A small tattoo, that's what scared you? We've been through things so much worse! What was it supposed to be, anyway?

Lambert: None of your fucking business. And you *pointing at Geralt* can't fucking laugh at me while you're friends with a weak, fragile human bard.

Geralt: Hmm. Sometimes I think he has more balls than you.

***spirngtime***

The other Witchers meet Jaskier for the first time, they get along surprisingly well. After two days of traveling together, they start looking for a stream to bathe in.

Geralt doesn't say anything. He waits for the right moment.

They find a stream eventually, Eskel and Lambert strip off their clothes quickly and jump into the water.

Jaskier takes off his doublet and shirt, and starts folding them, when he feels three pairs of eyes staring at him.

He turns to look at the Witchers.

"What?"

Geralt’s leaning against a tree, wearing a smug smile. Eskel and Lambert stare in shock at the huge, multiple tattoos covering Jaskier’s back, pectorals and ribs.

Jaskier blinks at them, still holding his shirt. "Is everything alright? Geralt, why are you smiling?"

Geralt grins, and Jaskier could've sworn this was the first time he saw the Witcher grinning.

"Oh, nothing. Ask Lambert".

[mollymawkwrites]

Dans ma peau

Making this a bullet fic because it's been in The List for centuries but I don't have the crayons to write anything atm

Inspired by the song "Que des coeurs" by MPL.

Geralt is a tattoo artist.

A young man comes in one day without appointment, asking for a simple heart with a name tattooed on his ribs

Geralt wouldn't usually accept this kind of stuff, it's stupid and boring, but he hasn't had a lot of clients lately. Yennefer says it's because he unsettles them, not talking at all when he's stabbing them with a needle

So he nods, and steers the young man towards the chair. The tattoo only takes half an hour. The man speaks the whole time.

He's back six months later. Geralt isn't surprised; that's what usually happens with these kinds of tattoos. What surprises him is that Jaskier (that's the name he put on the waiver) asks for another tattoo, with another name, instead of a removal, a cover, or a refund, like Geralt expected.

He doesn't need to say yes, really, business has been good the last few months, but something compels him to anyway.

Again, Jaskier talks the whole time. Geralt learns that he is a musician and a literature teacher, though he struggles to imagine the colourful, extravagant man teaching anything to kids.

It becomes a sort of routine. Once or twice a year, sometimes more, Jaskier comes back, and asks for another heart, another name. His body slowly becomes a canvas of his heartbreak.

Geralt can't help wondering why the man doesn't learn; few people make the same mistake twice, let alone a dozen times. His first guess is that the musician is just stupid, but with time, he learns that isn't true. Jaskier is brilliant, under all the peacocking and silliness.

One day, as he is placing the stencil on the thin skin of Jaskier's collarbone, he can't keep the question for himself anymore.

"You know you could have the old ones removed, right? Or I could try covering them, if you want."

"I know. I like having them with me, though. Our story together might have ended," he says, tracing his fingers along the name of one of his latest exes, "but I still loved them, at one point in my life. I don't want to forget that."

Geralt hums, not knowing what to say to that. His throat is tight.

"Well, you won't have any space left soon," he jokes lamely. A strange sadness fills Jaskier's eyes as he smiles at him, and they end the session in silence.

The ritual keeps happening, and Geralt starts speaking a little more when they see each other. Jaskier knows how to goad him into conversations. Yennefer looks at him weirdly.

Once, Jaskier doesn't come for a couple of years. It doesn't sit right with Geralt, for some reason. He tries not to think about it.

He also tries not to think about how relieved he feels when Jaskier walks back into the shop one day like he'd never disappeared, and asks for another tattoo. Says the last one proposed to him at a Five Guys

"A Five Guys, Geralt, can you imagine? I mean, it is my favourite place to eat, but I don't want my proposal memories to be filled with the smell of bacon grease!"

Geralt snorts and shakes his head, tapping Jaskier's thigh for him to stop moving as he starts on the heart.

When it's done, he pushes his chair back to give it a better look. That's when he realizes.

Jaskier is covered almost from head to toe in hearts. Of all shapes and sizes and styles - he told Geralt after the first few times that he could let his "artist's mind" speak and they've had fun finding original ways to draw hearts. There's only one spot left, Geralt knows, even though he can't see it: he knows Jaskier's body better than his own by now. It's on his right side, underneath his pec, where he's ticklish and sensitive.

"This one better be the one then, right?" Jaskier laughs when Geralt points it out.

Jaskier pays and leaves with a wave and a smile, but Geralt's world is all wrong suddenly.

Over the next few months, there are two parts of him warring inside, keeping him awake at night, his brain empty of all inspiration and motivation for his work. He wants Jaskier to come back, he's not fooling himself anymore about how much he likes the man. But if he comes back, it means he still hasn't found the one, like he's been prattling about since the first time. If he comes back, it'll be the last time. Maybe not the last time Jaskier gets his heart broken, but he'll have to find another way to commit it to memory, because his skin is already covered in ink. He won't need Geralt anymore.

Jaskier is back sooner than he's ever been. He usually calls beforehand now, since Geralt told him it'd be better if he had an appointment the first time. He hasn't called this time.

He comes just half an hour before Geralt closes the shop. Yennefer left early because it's hers and Triss' anniversary.

They sketch the heart in silence, Geralt feeling like his own is going to break to pieces at the smallest sound. Jaskier has a nervous energy about him, but he's strangely quiet as he takes off his shirt and lies down.

Geralt executes every step on auto pilot, jaw clenched. When his hands come to rest on Jaskier's ribs, he thinks he can feel his heart fluttering. He imagines he's stabbing it with his needle, pinning it in place for him to keep.

The heart is finished, and Geralt has to muster all his will to open his mouth and speak with a rough voice.

"Which name, this time?"

He doesn't want to look at Jaskier, because he's a coward. He'd rather die than watch the sparkle in his eyes as he says the name of his latest lover, the one he probably hopes is the one. Geralt's not sure his own heart would survive it.

But the silence stretches for too long, and he can't fuss with the machine and the inks and the needles forever, so finally he turns, meeting Jaskier's gaze with dread, and all he finds there is pure, unbridled hope.

"Yours?"

[cinebration]

Magic Ink (Geralt x Reader) [Request]

Hello! I see you are taking requests, I wanted one where Geralt and reader get matching tattoos — Requested by anon

I know this isn’t probably what you expected, but since I couldn’t hack this as a Modern AU, I had to come up with a reason why a woman in the Continent from that era would have a tattoo.

Warnings: none

Gif Source: frodo-sam

Everyone but you had a shtick in the traveling troupe. There was Lila of the dyed green hair, though she told everyone she was born that way, and Gillum of the mismatched eyes, caused by a fist to the face during a drunken brawl. Eloise claimed to be the reincarnation of the Elf Queen, and Bertie could make any of the tattoos on his muscles dance.

Then there was you. You didn’t know what to choose or even how to go about doing it. You acted as assistant to some of the acrobatic acts, juggling for some fools and ensuring costumes fit properly. Bertie was making that difficult, as his drinking had gotten out of control and had contributed to a swelling beer gut.

It was decent work, and you didn’t complain, but you wanted more than to play second fiddle. Not that you could play the fiddle…

It was on a trip to find more fabric to accommodate Bertie’s expanding girth that you stumbled across a reedy man who looked like a vagrant but smelled like a courtesan. As you passed him, studiously avoiding his scrutinizing gaze, he called, “Dear lady! Such unblemished skin. You are the perfect canvas!”

You hesitated. A canvas? For art? Slowly turning back, your hands toying with the stick you carried to fend off anything from starving dogs to lecherous men, you asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, an artist can do much with something so perfect!”

“What artist?”

He swept into a low bow and smiled, revealing startlingly white, straight teeth. “Lechforte, at your service.”

Rolling the stick between your rough palms, you turned over the possibility he was suggesting. Bertie had tattoos, but a woman with some would be more of a marvel. Showing some skin would be required, which always drew crowds.

You could already hear the troupe leader crowing, “Come see the painted lady! The Perfect Canvas!”

“What would you want from me?”

Lechforte smiled graciously. “Merely to have my name alongside yours, so that all may know who had the honor of painting you.”

~~

Geralt trotted into town on Roach, Jaskier bustling beside him. The bard’s cheeks were red from exertion and his eyes wild with exhaustion, but he kept up the pace, eager for the inn. As they entered the town, a man in motley cried at their arrival, “Come see the Unusuals! The Green Lady and the Elf Queen! The Perfect Canvas!”

“Ooo, a new troupe,” Jaskier managed to say between huffed breaths. “We ought to see them, Geralt.”

Geralt grunted in disagreement.

“Come on, the ladies are guaranteed to be randy, if not fine.”

Geralt glared at him.

Jaskier sighed and sagged against the post of the inn in relief. “You are no fun.”

“We’re not here to have fun,” Geralt growled, dismounting.

They were hunting a sorcerer, a man who had escaped from prison the night before he was to be hanged for treason. Geralt had reason to believe the man had traveled through the town, possibly seeking shelter or alms. Storming into the inn, he located the innkeeper and cornered him, demanding to know if he had seen the sorcerer. The innkeeper sputtered out a repetitive “no.”

“We keep moving.”

Jaskier stepped in Geralt’s path. “Absolutely not. I have been walking for days. I deserve a bath and a straw bed.”

Geralt’s mouth pulled into a frown, but Jaskier waved him off to find the innkeeper and secure lodgings.

The troupe crier’s voice carried back into the inn as Geralt vacillate between a nap and abandoning Jaskier.

“We should see them,” Jaskier commented as he waved Geralt over to the stairs. “You could use some entertainment.”

“Your company is enough,” the witcher replied dryly.

Jaskier faked a laugh. “I know you’re being sarcastic, but I will take the compliment.”

A few hours later, they were trudging out of the town to a nearby field where the troupe had set up their camp and stage. Night had begun to fall, chasing away the sunset with deep violet. Torches lit up around the camp as townsfolk wandered into its demarcated circle. The troupe leader began his spiel, his silky voice reaching all the ears in attendance. He was just shy of shouting, but to the witcher’s sensitive ears, it was too loud by far. He elected to tune the man out, trying to focus on anything else.

The players emerged and performed their acts. Boredom settled into the witcher’s bones. He watched a tattooed man ask the crowd which tattoo to dance.

Some drunk asked for an indecent bit. Without hesitation, the man dropped his trousers. The crowd went wild, the women shrieking and covering their eyes as the tattoo in question danced surprisingly well.

“I feel a new bawdy lyric coming on,” Jaskier laughed.

The man was ushered off the stage by the troupe leader, who did his best to salvage the evening. “Our last performer, ladies and gentlemen, is the perfect canvas for an artist’s grand imaginings. She has allowed herself to be painted by Lechforte, whose name you may know from the kingly courts. Behold the Perfect Canvas!”

You stepped out onto the stage wearing a commoner’s dress. A ripple of disapproval went through the crowd as you stood there, very little of your skin, the so-called “Perfect Canvas,” exposed.

Then you raised one hand in a grand flourish and slowly slid off the sleeve, revealing the first of the designs crawling up your arm. A hush descended over the crowd, breaths held in anticipation as bit by bit you peeled off the dress. What had appeared ordinary had, in fact, been altered to allow for you to display yourself without completely undressing, the fabric having been made into removable panels.

The witcher watched with mild interest until you turned and gently shrugged the back of your dress off, revealing a smooth swath of skin all along your spine. Geralt stiffened. Jaskier glanced aside at him, smirking, until he saw the dark cloud covering Geralt’s features.

“What is it?”

Geralt unconsciously touched his chest as his gaze darted around the platform, looking beyond the other performers to see if he could catch the sorcerer. There was no one there.

The crowd burst into applause as you swept into a low curtsy and gathered up the fabric you had shed. Geralt watched you leave, already moving to intercept you outside of the crowd’s prying gazes.

He caught you just as you were emerging from your tent, a cloak slipped over your bare shoulders. You froze, wary.

“Where did you get that tattoo?” he growled.

“Which one?”

“The one on your back.”

Frowning, you slipped the cloak off a fraction and turned to him, exposing the skin. “Which one?” Several crisscrossed your fine flesh.

His finger traced along a complex sigil on your left shoulder blade.

“I don’t have one there,” you muttered.

“I’m looking right at it.”

Racking your memory for the places Lechforte’s needle and brush had touched you, you shook your head. “You must be mistaken. I haven’t been tattooed there. Not the design you traced, at least.”

Geralt frowned, his gloved fingers lingering on the skin. You shivered in the cool night air.

“What…is it? The tattoo?”

“It’s a sigil,” he said thickly. “A sigil made by magic.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have one.” He touched the spot on his chest again. “The same one.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder. “How?”

“Magic.” Or a sorcerer who has cursed me.

“What does it mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Slipping the cloak back up your shoulders, you faced him. Your gaze flittered over his features, taking him in. “you say it was made by magic?”

He nodded.

“Then it can be undone by magic?”

“Perhaps.”

“Can only you see the tattoo?”

A crease formed between the witcher’s eyebrows. “It’s possible.”

“Then was it meant for you?”

He hesitated, surprised by the question. He searched your calm features, trying to puzzle it out. Could that be its meaning? How else could you have obtained such a tattoo?

“Take me to your artist,” he rumbled. “We’ll find out.”

[dapandapod]

So many witcher fics

Attempting to clean my master lists, so here is another pile of early witcher fics! 

These are written between 2020 and early 2021, the start of my witcher career! please enjoy!

-Fingertips Words: 1244 Jaskier is too stressed out to sleep, Geralt is brave and tries to help. Fluffy fluff fluff.

- Connecting dots Words 2981 Geralt is hit by a lying curse, and no braincells where seen that day.

- I just called to say I love you Words: Geralt is staying over at a hotel for a hunt. But he misses Jaskier something terribly, and as if he read his mind, Jaskier calls him.

- Two Pillows Word: 2098 Geralt sleeps with two pillows. One for his head and one to hold. And then Jaskier comes along.

- You bring me colors Words: 1400 When your soulmate is born, they bring colors. And when they die, the colors dissapears. There are many ways to die.

-My blue pearl Words: 1,466 Geralt is a tattoo artist and Jaskier gets an emotional tattoo. And later a date.

-Can I stay? Words: 4481 Jaskier has to stay over in Geralts flat, but there is only one bed....

-Family portrait Words: 2,323 Queen Calanthe is not a fan of hedgehogs.

-All kinds of pointy Words: 1,569 Jaskier has a temper and Geralt likes it.

-A story of catnip and Witchers Words: 1,863 Turns out catnip has certain effects on witchers.

-Prove it Words: 1,441 When provided with a floor, you dance.

-Pretty Barmaids and Evil Witchers (part 1) Words: 1,424 -Pretty Witchers and Evil Bards (part 2)Words: 1,805 There is a barmaid taking great liberites with his Geralt.

-Taste of apples Words: 716   As a podfic by @kyokotsukuyomi Smooches -Touch of home Words: 853    As a podfic by @kyokotsukuyomi Hugs -Place your smile in mine  Words: 1251 Holding of hands Jaskier asks, Geralt provides.

- Love Language Words: 1397 Jaskier thought he know how Geralt expressen affection. But it turns out there is more to learn.

-Flowers and bad ideas Words: 1,460 Jaskier sneezes and Geralt is sure he is about to die

-Everything I wanted Words: 1,169 After the mountain Jaskier is almost beaten to death. But Geralt comes for him.

-Roach!Roach my beloved!  Words: 2435 “Duck removal. Witcher wanted. Good pay.” Or - the first time Geralt meets Roach.

-Sing with me    Words: From his bedroom window, Jaskier can hear the sirens sing. He learns from them, loves them. When he comes to Oxenfurt, it takes him no time at all to see that Valdo is one of them.  mer!valdo x Jaskier

- Lady of the lake Words: Renfri needs to find a magic sword to finally end Stregobor. The lake where it is said to be hidden, she finds Yennefer instead. A mer!yennefer x renfri story

-Child of surprise Words: 2057 Roach finds herself a handsom unicorn

-A song unsung Words: 1,127 TW death “Have you ever lost someone before?” Jaskier asks. “Yes.” “Is it always this hard?”

[maythefandomsbwithu]

Tattoo artist Geralt and florist jaskier dancing around Geralt's kitchen on Sunday afternoon with the record player going in the background, giggling because they are slightly tipsy and very much in love.

Excuse me I had a brain thing.