#this is a necromancer!Jaskier day

[kuwdora]

Coin Operated Boy is now complete! Only took me an extra 2 months to finish because my life got turned inside out. Puppet Jaskier has had a no good, terrible, very bad day. But now he has a good one with Shani on stage! And receives the long awaited help to become human again. This whumpy serious crack of my heart. ❤️

Chapter 4 features Shani and Jaskier performing at the Oxenfurt medical student comedy show. Herein lies bad jokes, increasingly gross humor, and more!

"Knock-knock,” Jaskier said. A few people called back who’s there in varying levels of drunkenness.

“Who’s there?” Shani asked.

“A medical student who has been up all night studying for their test on kidney stones,” Jaskier said.

Shani cleared her throat. “A medical student up all night studying for their test on kidney stones…who?”

The girls in the front giggled and several of the students at the bar also clapped.

Jaskier shrugged at the audience. “I might as well start drinking now because tests on kidney stones are the hardest to pass.”

The majority of the tavern groaned in unison, but there was enough scattered applause and drunken giggles that Jaskier could work with. Shani also groaned.

“If you’re so much better at knock-knock jokes, why don’t you tell me one?” Jaskier asked, waving a little hand indignantly.

“Knock-knock,” Shani said firmly, projecting her voice. The tremble was barely there anymore. That was a good sign.

“Who’s there?” Jaskier and the audience asked together.

“A necromancer,” Shani said.

“A necromancer who?”

“A necromancer you can pay to raise your failing grade,” Shani said.

Some students laughed, others groaned. A mixed reaction was better than silence.

“Speaking of which… what do you get when you cross a medical student and necromancer?” Jaskier asked the audience.

A student burped riotously and Shani waited half a minute for the jeering giggles and cross-chatter died down enough for the punchline.

“A cross between a medical student and a necromancer? That’s just a doctor whose license has expired,” Shani said.

The students laughed and clapped. Shani continued to fidget on the barstool, but the applause seemed to bolster her confidence because she also laughed–a genuine one that would have made Jaskier grin if his face wasn’t made of wood. He let himself ride the wave of cheer.

“I once knew a healer who dabbled in the necromantic arts,” Jaskier said. He scratched his puppet chin thoughtfully and gazed around the tavern. “He was the cousin of Valdo Marx, actually. Don’t tell anyone, but it turns out Valdo died in 1252 from an untreated case of syphilis and his cousin used his dark magic whammy on him.” Jaskier mimed the typical mage gestures for emphasis.

And sure enough a few more students leaned forward in their chairs, listening raptly.

“This cousin brought ol’ Valdo right back from the dead. You didn’t hear it from me, but the only thing keeping that deflated excuse of a bard on his feet is that string of pubic hair trying to escape his lip. His cousin had infused the mustache with enough Chaos to keep him upright. Tear it off and Valdo will crumble like a concertina right there.” Jaskier mimed crashing onto the stage where he would enjoy Valdo’s public and humiliating death.

The tavern roared with jeers and laughter, and several people pounded their drinks on the table.

Okay, maybe Jaskier went off script a little too much but gods, the laughter made Jaskier feel almost normal again.

Why didn’t anyone laugh at his jokes when he said basically the same joke when he was a man?

fic on ao3

[spielzeugkaiser]

GAUNTER AND JASKIER oh my GOODNESS I am like 👀

[MASTERPOST] For this to make even a semi kind of sense what happened in the Flowers Comic is not unimportant. And I did draw Jaskier and Gaunter here too. Necromancer!Jaskier is also still my favorite de-aged baby; I mean he is an adult, but he's still younger than Ciri - if it's not Geralt who will go full protect mode it's her!

Ironically I have something in the queue for later that makes it somewhat clearer why Gaunter could have some interest in Jaskier.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Geraskier concept (PART TWO IN THE REBLOG)

How about an AU where Julian Alfred Pankratz’s family is a scary, violent family…like evil necromancers who work for imperialists and do their dirty work. Magical mobsters. Something like that.

And when Julian is ‘brought into the family business’ as a teen, he is taken on an errand and witnesses a murder. He is so traumatized by it. He vomits. He rages.

He isn’t a hero or anything but he does have a conscience and harming others and violence sickens him.

He wants to run away but his father is too powerful. He would never be able to get far enough. So he asks his father to let him go. To release him from his family obligations.

His father is like absolutely not. You’re young. Once you get a little experience, you’ll realize that killing is necessary. All of this idealism and self righteousness is just naïveté and childishness. So just stay. You’ll get used to it.

Julian is like no I will never be alright with killing people.

They fight like demons about it and Julian’s father tells him he will let him go under one condition. That he consents to having a spell put on him. “The day you kill someone, everything will go black and you will wake up here, under an obligation to work for me.”

They are both so sure of themselves.

Julian agrees to it almost before his father is even done explaining himself. He has nothing to lose. “I’ll never do it,” he vows.

Julian’s father is so sure his son will eventually become like him. Will follow in his footsteps. So he casts the spell and Julian agrees to change his name to sever their connection. He calls himself Jaskier and he takes off.

Freedom is exhilarating. Jaskier drinks and sings and fucks and meets new people and sees the world. Most importantly he gets to be himself.

Of course his father keeps tabs on him and occasionally sends a messenger to ask if he’s tired of being a brat. He tries to get him to come back. But the answer is always no.

Then Jaskier meets Geralt. At first it’s just admiration and of course (of course) lust, like everything else. But it quickly transforms into something else. They spend nights talking by campfires, drinking together, talking shit, making fun of aldermen who are afraid of Geralt or who don’t want to pay him. They fit together in a way Jaskier has never experienced.

And Geralt is magnificent. Geralt protects him and pulls him out of danger and saves his life time and time again. Jaskier falls in love with his entire heart and soul. He thinks it is one sided. So he decides to never confess it. But oh he loves him. He harbors it in his heart.

But he cannot bring himself to tell him about his family. Mostly, he is ashamed, though he isn’t sure if it is of his father or himself.

Then one day, Geralt is set upon by superstitious villagers being egged on by a mage who wants Geralt run out of town. Geralt, strong as he is, can be overwhelmed by magic plus being outnumbered.

Jaskier is in a tavern performing, but he finishes and comes upon the scene just as Geralt has fallen. He realizes with soul deep panic that Geralt could die if he doesn’t help him. The only way to do so is to silence the mage who hasn’t yet seen Jaskier.

When Jaskier picks up the knife he knows he will likely never see Geralt again. He knows it will mean a life of soul destroying evil. Of conformity. Of captivity. Of being under his father’s thumb again.

But they are bearing down on Geralt and no one else can help him. Geralt who has saved his life more times than he can count.

And what is love if not willingness to sacrifice?

So he steps out of the shadows and buries the knife in the mages neck. By the time he pulls it out, he turns to mist and the knife clatters to the ground.

With the mage dead, Geralt easily overwhelms the villagers and frees himself. He didn’t see who killed the mage but there’s no time to figure it out. he goes to find Jaskier so they can get out of town.

But Jaskier is gone. Geralt cannot find him anywhere. He tortures himself with thoughts about why Jaskier abandoned him. Did he sense that Geralt had fallen in love with him and so abandoned him? Did he grow tired of dealing with the prejudice that dogs Geralt? Did he see the mob and say…no more?

And who stabbed the mage? Certainly not Jaskier. Not his Jaskier who vomits at the sight of blood.

But Geralt cannot in his heart of hearts believe, truly believe that Jaskier would leave without a word. Would he? He thinks he can accept it and forget about him. But he can’t. It haunts him. So he decides he needs answers. He wants jaskier to explain himself.

If only he could find him and ask. He could put his heart at ease. But he realizes with horror that he has never actually asked Jaskier about his family or his life. What kind of friend has he been? And how will he find him?

Then he remembers something.

One night at a performance, someone called Jaskier some other name. Jaskier hustled them away, and Geralt doesn’t remember the whole thing.

The only word he remembers is Lettenhove.

He will go there. He will get his answers.

[artistsfuneral]

Inktober Prompt One - Ghost

modern au, modern magic, necromancer!Jaskier, first meeting, possible geraskier, tw for: pet death (but looked at it from a good perspective)

The doors of the train closed with a monotone beep and Jaskier let himself fall against the cold walls. Not able to contain the exhausted sigh that bubbled up his throat, he stabbed the straw into his juice box and drained the whole thing in one go.

It only took a single glance at his reflection to see that his outer appearance matched the heaviness in his chest and the pounding headache that knocked against his temples like a wrecking ball knocked holes into buildings. He looked like shit and felt like it too.

But it was worth it.

Despite being one of the weakest necromancers in his family line, Jaskier still enjoyed his work and wore his magic-field-identifying uniform with pride.

His parents and sisters were magnificent in their respective discipline. His mother and oldest sister being able to communicate with ghosts, human or not, that lived centuries ago, his father and younger sister powerful enough to create long lasting spells that enabled others to see and interact with the ghosts around them.

Jaskier instead, only had the ability to see the ghosts of well loved pets, who's spirits were strong and loyal enough to follow their former companions even in the afterlife. And while he had no problem seeing and interacting with them on his own, his job contained to make their ghostly forms visible, touchable for a few more hours, so that their owners could interact with them once more. He was good at it, obviously, but it always cost him a lot of energy and left him drained at the end.

The necromancer had just completed a contract for a wealthy man and his daughter, who's pet bunny had died a few weeks ago. Thanks to Jaskier, the girl that had been completely devastated, was able to spend a whole day with her bunny (Jaskier might have pushed himself a bit too much, but it had been worth it). He had left the two with a hefty sum on his bank account, a smiling girl and the promise that her bunny loved her very much and would be with her for a long, long time.

It was exactly for this reason, why he loved his work so much. Yes, he got payed for it, but that wasn't the main cause why he did it. It was the huge amount of people (many of them children) that he was helping with his magic, that made what he did worthwhile.

Taking off the jacket of his uniform, he stuffed it and the empty juice box into his backpack and let out a jaw cracking yawn that he hid behind his free hand. Finally feeling a bit better, he took his time to assess the people on the train. To his surprise he found the cart rather empty. A couple of students sat in the far back, chattering loudly and showing each other things on their phones, one of them had a ghost cat sitting on his backpack, idly dozing in the flickering evening sun. A mother and two small children occupied a four seater, grocery bags wedged between their feet. The elf woman caught his eyes and Jaskier silently greeted her with a respectful nod. She smiled and went back to talking with her children.

Closest to him sat an old dwarf who, to Jaskier's astonishment, had not only a tiny (living) puppy sitting in his lap, but was surrounded by four other ghost dogs that were happily playing with each other. Dwarves, who took pride in still being known for their rough demeanor, weren't usually this pet friendly. But the ghosts were clearly visible to Jaskier's eyes, barely translucent and bright enough to show how strong their bond with the old dwarf must have been. Jaskier couldn't help but grin. The dwarf, now looking directly at him, noticed it too and was about to open his mouth and probably send a rather ugly remark his way, when he noticed Jaskier's clothes.

While it wasn't necessary, the good thing about wearing his MFI uniform was that he could stare as much as he wanted. People would see his classification as a tier five magic user and usually leave him alone. As did the dwarf, who grumbled something into his beard, but looked away without really voicing his complains.

When Jaskier turned around to inspect the other part of the train cart, he suddenly found the reason why it was this empty despite it being a time, where most people went off work.

Behind him, in the middle of the cart, stood a bloodied witcher.

It wasn't that he'd never seen a witcher before; even though they were rather rare nowadays, it came with Jaskier's profession to bump into them from time to time. And still, Jaskier stared at the man with wide eyes. His hair, ash white, was shaved on both sides of his head and pulled into a thick, but messy bun that was streaked with blood. He wore an all black variant of the kaedweni military uniform, that had seen better days and two swords, a crossbow and a heavy duffel back were strapped across his back. The man himself was absolutely terrifying to look at and the blood on his clothes and in his hair wasn't helping at all. Though, the mesmerizingly weird thing about the witcher were his companions.

Having caught his open gawking, the white haired snarled at him with his fangs bared and snapped, “What the fuck are you staring at?” Jaskier opened his mouth and closed it again. Yet, he didn't stop staring into the witcher's direction.

“I uh- I've just never seen so many horses in a train before.”

---

prompter: me

tag list: @ravenclaw-dirt @whitetyger123 @ouiouilegay @amethystpagan @raiwalk @endrega23 @etcorsolus @halfbloodprincez @supermutantprince @kuripon @hailhailsatan

[cherryjuicegf]

for @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account look hannah they hold hands <3

She’s been standing still for two minutes.

Still, right beside the door, she has barely taken any steps inside the room. Barely made any sound. She has only closed the door behind her, and that with the faintest of sounds she could manage, because she can’t afford any louder torture in her ears. She can’t, and neither can he.

Strange, she thinks. She wants to laugh. Her presence had always been loud enough.

Yet she’s standing still, two minutes already since she entered the room and she hasn’t received a single glance. A flinch, of the ones that make her heart shatter in her chest, and she hates to think about the reason why. Not even a sign, something showing the acknowledgement of her standing there, forever waiting for something she doubts will ever come.

She never thought being ignored would evoke any emotion other than rage.

He’s staring out of the window. From the haunted look in his eyes, she suspects his view is entirely different than hers. There’s a sheet of paper laid on the table before him, and a pen, waiting, almost dusty from the neglect of what feels like centuries but it’s actually a few hours. If she looks closer, she will discern smudges on the paper, half-finished words that echo like screams, or like being interrupted by a scream. She wonders how many times his words died in his throat, to be replaced by hollow wails. His hands, grasping at the fabric of his shirt, knuckles turning white as they clench and grip, fingers trembling with pain, the same one that drips like poison from his stare, is enough of an answer. Too many times.

She takes a shuddering breath.

“Jaskier.”

He flinches. Of course. He hasn’t even noticed that she’s been waiting there. Or that the sun has set. Or that his fingers are close to ripping his shirt to shreds. Of course. He flinches, and turns around to look at her, and she wishes she could actually say he’s looking at her and not at a ghost, or a shadow, or a mocking figure belonging to the past. She chases his eyes with hers, feeling almost ashamed that she wants, no, needs to hold his gaze.

She will some day. But she fears that day won’t come soon at all.

Finally, his grip on the shirt relaxes, leaving it crumpled, and it’s terribly similar to the way she had found him lying there, moments before he was torn apart. Not so long ago.

He stares at her then, an old, familiar light in his eyes. Comforting. His lips twitch unpleasantly. “Oh, Yennefer.” His voice sounds distant. Less than it did. Still. More than it ever should. Yennefer has a feeling that’s what necromancers are used to hearing. She raises an eyebrow, as if in desperate self-defence, but the sudden shadow that covers his eyes as realization dawns on him almost makes her curse herself. “Have you been standing there for…” he swallows, a hint of apology in his tone, “long?”

She hates it. Hates how her chest aches. But this is no time to show it and she hopes it never will be. She shakes her head, her lips curving into something close to a smile. “It doesn’t matter.” Then, as though to ease the pain, as though she doesn’t know the answer, she nods at the forgotten sheet. “Did you write anything?”

Jaskier smiles in a way that almost reminds her of what had been. And oh, how she craves that time. “Care to be educated on versification, witch?” He raises an eyebrow, teasing. The bastard. “By me?”

Yennefer grimaces in return, as if completing a performance of mutual fakeness. “Don’t flatter yourself, bard. I’m only asking if the sheet I gave you is wasted. On the other hand,” she tilts her head, smug, “your useless smudges are less of a waste than your words.”

A huff, humourless. And then silence. She wishes it felt like a win. Only that, this time, Jaskier continues to stare at her and his eyes are screaming with something close to a plea, as though begging for a salvation that would never come.

She would be tired of saving him, if she could. The fact that she can’t makes her heart flutter in a way that makes her knees aching to give in.

Her eyes fly to a waiting lute case, patient beside the bed, and suddenly she craves to hear the sound of the lute strings again, in a melodic deceit from the present. They hadn’t been touched since she fixed them. Two weeks. Maybe three. She has lost count, and doubts Jaskier has cared to keep any record for a long time.

Still.

Slowly, she approaches the bed, and lifts the case from the floor. With the corner of her eye she glances at Jaskier standing up, probably to say he’s done something all day, or prove that he can. He can’t. She knows too well now.

The lute feels heavy in her hands, the weight of past melodies, and Jaskier is staring at her in confusion. Or hope. Or despair. She’s tired of guessing wrong. Only this feels right anymore.

“Here,” she says and gives him the lute, and it feels like giving away her heart. And he takes it.

His hands are trembling.

She remembers them. The hands. Bloody, and broken, fingers in the wrong place, shaking with pain and terror and every scream he had yet to utter, unable to, only whispering, Yennefer, my hands, please, they did, they broke, please, Yen, my hands, please, please, and laughing, and shaking, and clinging and laughing and she’d seen worse, far worse, but then again she hadn’t.

She remembers them, and remembers how they were before. And now, resting on the strings, they’re close, so close to what had been, and yet so far away. He stares at the lute, a foreign touch, and then raises his head to look at her, eyes wide in hopeful despair. “You think…” he clears his voice as though to hide the pain, “you think I can play?”

A deep breath. Yennefer lets herself smile, bittersweet. Somehow it feels right. “I think you should try.”

He does.

He sits on the bed, and strokes the strings, and his eyes well at the sound. Hers too. But she doesn’t admit it. She only sits beside him.

And then there’s a melody, one she doesn’t remember existing, and his voice is still rough and strained, but when he starts singing, something inside her settles. He’s looking at her.

They’re tender, the words. Speaking of a love found again, a sad story. Longing, and a dark-haired lady appearing through the darkness. Of a long-craved comfort. It feels familiar more than it sounds. No, it sounds like a song to be sung in great halls, to make the audiences weep and rise from their seats in applause, a promise to be heard throughout every cold winter breeze. But it feels like a hug.

And when suddenly the music stops, and Jaskier winces, Yennefer thinks it’s been too long since any of them had that comfort. So she places the lute aside and takes his hands in hers, just like then, only that now they’re not broken, but gentle and warm and, as he lets her hold them, and gazes at her, they’re grateful. She holds them, fingers softly working through the knots of freshly healed wounds, trying to cover up their memory with a caring touch. She holds them, and he’s looking at her, giving himself away freely, for once, and the ever present shadow seems to lift from his eyes, as though he’s staring at the sun after a long time.

And even when she’s finished mending, she still holds them. And meets his gaze. And there, fingers entwining and eyes locking together, it feels like puzzle pieces finally put into place.

[valdomarx]

Geraskier Fic Masterpost

Sweetness and fluff

Geralt doesn’t fall in love

Doing kind things for each other

The opposite of loneliness

A small wager

Shut up, Jaskier

Geralt hears Jaskier's thoughts

In the spring, Jaskier smells like applewine

Steel & silver

The scent of home

Geralt despises hot days

Jaskier bonds with Ciri

Five times Jaskier uses an endearment

Fake relationship

A marriage of convenience

Accidentally married

Fake marriage misunderstandings

Fake engagement at Lettenhove

Pining

Geralt thinks about kissing Jaskier

Geralt doesn’t touch Jaskier often

Jaskier is a tactile person

Geralt can’t bear to leave Jaskier

Jaskier is cursed to be untouchable

Cuddling and snuggling

Jaskier gives great hugs

Huddling for warmth

Only one bed

Potion toxicity

Gentle touching

Jaskier has a close call on a hunt

Geralt likes his space

Jaskier gets hypothermia

Caretaking

First time Jaskier patches Geralt up

Geralt taking care of Jaskier  

Jaskier shaves Geralt

Incident and Injury

Jaskier suffers a most grievous injury

Geralt is protective

Jaskier cooks for Geralt

Jaskier does little favours for Geralt

Game Geralt and Show Jaskier

game!Geralt meets show!Jaskier

Geralt invites Jaskier to Corvo Bianco

Autistic!Geralt and ADHD!Jaskier

Geralt loves Jaskier’s clothes + continuation  

Jaskier is easily distracted

Geralt is largely nonverbal

Jaskier is Geralt’s security blanket

Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Dead doesn’t mean gone

Jaskier has abandonment issues

A casual arrangement

Jaskier gets injured on a hunt

Geralt thinks he's ugly + fix it

Geralt never looks Jaskier in the eye

Geralt makes Jaskier cry + fix-it (ish)

Orpheus and Eurydice AU

Post-mountain

Geralt never listens to Jaskier’s songs

Geralt misses Jaskier

Jaskier misses Geralt

Season 2 reunion scene script

Jaskier leaves Geralt gifts when they part

Jaskier gets kidnapped

Jaskier goes to the coast alone

Humor

Body swap shenanigans

Hit by a truth spell

Jaskier is a cute drunk

Jaskier and Geralt run into Valdo Marx

Jaskier makes friends with an alpaca

Jaskier thinks he is good at flirting

Jaskier is in need of inspiration  

Geralt’s delicate sensibilities

Geralt is a man of old fashioned sensibilities

Jaskier trying on new clothes

Geralt helps Jaskier dress

Geralt has a thing for Jaskier’s ankles

An unconscionable scandal

Geralt finds a saucy book

Strip gwent

the Great Bathing Calamity of 1249

Jaskier suffers from a terrible cold

Jaskier’s flirting is most untoward

Maximum himbo

Geralt suspects Jaskier is in love

Jaskier loves Geralt’s cat eyes

Jaskier has developed A Type

Mysterious gwent player captures Geralt’s attention

Action scenes

Five signs

Jaskier is surprisingly handy with a dagger

High toxicity

Creature!Jaskier

Jaskier finds out he’s half incubus

siren!Jaskier  

fae!Jaskier

necromancer!Jaskier

red dragon!Jaskier headcanons

Winters in Kaer Morhen

Jaskier has slept with all the wolves except Geralt

Jaskier sees the witchers knitting

Geralt wants to ask Jaskier to Kaer Morhen

Geralt misses Jaskier at Kaer Morhen

Comfortably ensconced

Jaskier gets shared around Kaer Morhen

Jaskier loses a bet

Geralt is secretly the slutty one

On tonight’s menu: spit-roasted bard

Vesemir is daddy now

Geralt is jealous of Lambert

Geralt watches Jaskier with Lambert

Spicy

Brothelverse masterpost

Geralt talks Jaskier off

Geralt is chatty in bed

Five times Geralt watches Jaskier get off

Predator and prey chase

Scratching an itch

Sex pollen

Leaving a mark

Geralt overhears Jaskier fucking

Tender rope bondage

Suggestive

Five times Jaskier seduced the monster

Jaskier gets manhandled

Jaskier gets tied up on a hunt

Geralt scenting Jaskier

Jaskier eats strawberries, Geralt watches

A near miss

[innocentbi-stander]

About necromancer Jaskier - what other necromancers use their powers for: evil minions, power, endless tortures and follow up revivals for more torture. What the Bard uses it for: forever fresh looking flower crowns, skeleton maids for mundane tasks like swiping the floor or packing the camp, reviving butterflies and other tiny animals he accidentaly crushed, reviving a dead tree and making it sprout new leaves so he has a nice shade to sit in and play his lute.

This has been sitting in my inbox for a little bit, apologies for the late response, I’ve been super busy this past week!

One of the reasons Geralt is so confused by jaskier being a necromancer is because he’s met other necromancers before, and they’re a bunch of angsty dark edge lords who more often than not are drunk on power

and then he meets jaskier- jaskier who couldn’t care less about his ability to storm kingdoms with undead armies, influence others to his will, or torture

geralt is baffled by how jaskier has somehow managed to turn his necromancing abilities into something good and pure

he possesses this often terrifying and dark power and instead uses it to make the flowers he weaves into roach’s mane last for weeks without wilting

geralt watches with wonder as the bard kneels down in forests next to the tiny bodies of fallen baby birds and breathes life into them once more and returns them to their mother’s nests

the one time he stepped on a butterfly and didn’t even hesitate to send it flying through the flowers once more

when they came across a stretch of land burned by raiders and jaskier plucked a cheery melody from his lute and the trees regrew before their eyes, providing a shady spot to camp for the day

he summons the undead from the earth like every other necromancer but its usually by accident- an indicator of exactly how powerful he is when just a simple wish for a task to be done sends skeletons scrambling from the soil to come to his assistance

this is perhaps the thing geralt is more surprised by, he’s seen other necromancers treat the undead they summon like dirt, like disposable servants meant to use and toss away as they please

jaskier treats the skeletons like old friends, he weaves them flower crowns of daisies, he rubs away the dirt smeared on their bones, he speaks to them kindly and thanks them graciously when they pack up camp, or whatever task jaskier has accidentally brought them forth to complete. he sends them back to rest with a kiss on their temple 

jaskier is nothing like any other person geralt has ever met, and he thanks the gods he doesn’t even believe in that the bard is his

_____________

Hope you enjoyed! I love getting prompts, feel free to send me more!

[jaskiersvalley]

Freeze! You’re under arrest for being so lovely. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!!! 💕💕

You are so wonderful, thank you for this! I will be sure to pass the message on to others (though I do these via anon) to keep the happy going. As a little thanks, have some incompetent necromancer Jaskier.

Everyone knew Jaskier was a necromancer. Just as much as how everyone knew he was an absolutely useless one. He couldn’t raise a dead worm if he tried. The most he could do was make flowers bloom as they were dying in vases. It was great for being a bard, patrons always seemed to smile more and were more generous when surrounded by vibrant, pretty things.

The problem, they whispered was that Jaskier was too soft. Necromancy needed a sacrifice, life had to be sapped from somewhere in order to be funneled into another being. Flowers were easy to resurrect, nobody in the tavern would miss a couple of minutes from their life in exchange for a few pretty flowers, that much Jaskier could justify. But to take indiscriminately in order to shape the world to his liking was something beyond Jaskier’s moral code. Still, he stole a little from here and there to be able to keep up with Geralt and to make sure Roach didn’t feel the strain of old age.

All this lead to the common knowledge that while Jaskier was a natural born necromancer, he was a really shit one. Those who learned necromancy were better at it than him which was unheard of with other natural borns. It didn’t bother Jaskier, he was perfectly content to do as he had done for so long. There was no need to impress anyone or be anything beyond what he wanted to be. Such a philosophy in life suited him just fine and Jaskier learned quickly to do what pleased him. Sadly, there were always idiots who wanted to take that small scrap of happiness from him.

This time, it was Nilfgaard. He and Geralt had left Ciri with Yennefer who portalled the two of them to safety, leaving Geralt and Jaskier to act as a decoy. They couldn’t outrun the group hunting them down but they could give the other two a head start in their escape. After three days, the soldier closed the distance between them to the point that running was futile. All Jaskier and Geralt could do was find a place to stand their ground. A field, as far removed from any settlement was as good as any. The fact Geralt didn’t want the fight to destroy crops or the livelihoods of anyone was oddly touching.

They had anticipated a small company of men. Instead, they got a whole regiment. Surrounded, Jaskier could see Geralt steeling himself. They weren’t going to surrender. As one, their opponents descended on them.

Aard kept clusters of men from getting too close at once while ignii held some at bay. Each turn and twist, Geralt protected Jaskier, tried to keep him safe. Bards weren’t meant for fighting and Jaskier wished so badly that he could rouse the dead to come to their assistance. As it was, he got a few slashes and stabs in the the dagger he carried but it wasn’t enough. Nilfgaard knew they couldn’t win against a witcher with skill alone so they had come at him in vast numbers.

The fight was dragging on, Geralt was tiring, even as he downed a potion of Rook, it wasn’t enough. Sporting a few slashes from where he hadn’t been quick enough, as the potion wore off, he slipped up. The blade sank between his armour, where chest met shoulder. The pained gasp was one Jaskier never wanted to hear again. Once that hit was in, others soon followed, slashes against Geralt’s throat, stabs in any weak point of his armour. He went down without any of his usual grace and Jaskier was left trying to defend himself, unable to do anything while Geralt slowly bled out by his feet.

It was obvious Geralt had been the main target, the soldiers tried to get a few more blows in on his failing body than go after Jaskier. A bard was nothing to truly worry about, they knew that. With a weak aard, Geralt blasted some of the soldiers away, gave Jaskier a moment to crouch down and cradle his head.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Jaskier cried. “Not like this you bastard. Not like this!”

Weakly, Geralt reached up and covered Jaskier’s hand on his cheek with his own. He didn’t have any energy left for anything more, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. The last thing Geralt remembered was Jaskier’s eyes, brimming with tears and mouth moving frantically, begging him to stay. On the periphery of his hearing, Geralt thought he heard a scream.

As Geralt’s eyes glazed over, Jaskier screamed. It was anguish, rage and desperation all rolled into one. The ground around them shrivelled, grass dying, the rot spreading from the epicenter that was Geralt. Soldiers tried to run, to flee from the rapidly expanding wave of death. They were caught in it, skin sagging, eyes sinking in as they aged beyond their years, sucked dry of life before their bodies ever hit the ground. All through it, Jaskier screamed, eyes red as blood vessels burst, palms on Geralt’s face glowing. Once all the soldiers were nothing more than desiccated corpses in a field of dead flowers, he stopped. Head tipping forwards, Jaskier closed his eyes and willed with his whole being, redirecting the life force he had sapped.

Listing to the side, he passed out, face ashen with exertion. That was how Geralt found him as he sat up, feeling more energised and alive than he had in decades.  Next to him Jaskier was breathing so that was going to have to be good enough. Looking around at the destruction around them, Geralt swallowed thickly. Indirectly, he had been the cause of that. And maybe the cause of the unleashing of a necromancer who was more powerful than anyone had wanted to believe.

[abluescarfonwaston]

AO3 Fandom top hits: 

The Witcher: Shapeshifter! Jaskier, Thermodynamic Equibrium, Swordplay, MonsterFucker, Only Yours,  Scars,  Flowers and Pungent Tea, One Crown

Sherlock Holmes/The Witcher Crossover: The Ballad of John Watson

Spy x Family: Mission Complete, Lilacs and Cedarwood

Ace Attorney: They’re Idiots Your Honor, The boundaries of Life and Death, For Me its always been you, The Chessboard maker, Queer Eye

Shadowhunter: Love is the thing with feathers, The Angelic Core

Gerlion (game/Book verse):  Whoreson’s Flower, The Eternal Fire, Endgame,  Jaskier becomes Game Dandelion, Necromancer Dandelion, Take Me Instead, Philia before Eros

The Hexer Geraskier: Safe with You, First meetings, The Last Wish

MultiVerse AU: Meeting the Geralts, Reunion, Hanging out

Fluff/Soft:  Marry me, Marry Me (short), Mirror Mirror,  Lost in Translation, Winter Lodgings, High I love you,  Thermodynamic Equibrium, Cat Eyes, Endearments,  Failed Escape, Hair cuts,  Jaskier is Geralt’s Spaceheater, Kaer Morhen’s Library, Bandits are Friends, Bedtime Stories, Seek me out, Dancing, Jaskier Gardens, Valdo Ships it

Horny: Buff!Jaskier,  Swordplay, Unsheathed Blades,  Only Yours

Hurt/Comfort: Sensory Overload,  Winter Lodgings, Scars, Constrict your eyes, Jaskier Gets Sick, A tale of two masters, Autoclave (Valdo/Jaskier)

Angst: Immortality, A Little Sacrifice, Lettenhove Au 1, 2, 3,  Geralt’s literally toxic to touch, Flowers and Pungent Tea, One Crown, A tale of two masters, letters to you

Geraskefer: Hand in Unloveable Hand

Eskel/Jaskier: Swordplay, Unsheathed Blades, Part Incubus Jaskier

Aiden/Lambert: Potions, Bombs and Fishing, Aiden gets turned into a Cat

Non romantic Relationships: Lil Bleater loves Eskel, Baby Trans Geralt & Vesemir

Fic ideas: Buff!Jaskier, Double Doppler Geraskier, It’s too cold for Lambert/Jaskier, Jaskier doesnt know how to sow, Avatar AU, The practicality of Cat eyes, Secret Royal Jaskier, Pictures of You, Geralt is Underweight, Jaskier isn’t a Monsterfucker, Rapunzel Au, Don’t talk bad about yourself!, Which one’s Batman/Superman?, Merlin crossover, Housecats, Weatherman au, Danganronpa Au

Sherlock Holmes Crossover: The Ballad of John Watson

Shadowhunter Fics: Love is the thing with feathers, The Angelic Core

Spy X Family Fics: Mission Complete, Lullabies, Words scars and choices, Nite Lite, Lead me down Gently, Family Quirks, Forger Christmas

Ace Attorney Fics: Elevator Rides, For me it’s always been you, You never change, Day of Destiny, The Boundaries of Life and Death, The boundaries of life and death Deleted scene,  Bratworth to Dadworth in one easy Kay Faraday, Non-binary Edgeworth, run away with me, Black Locks, Miles Von Karma, Samurai and Cowboys,  They’re Idiots Your Honor, meet the robinsons au, Magical Girls au Summary; (Gender Bro), Kidwrightworth zoo trip, Greg coma au, Queer Eye, Fluffy No DL-6 collection, Logic Chess, Logic Chess Au, The chessboard maker, Fly the coop, Santa Edgeworth

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

eater

cw: major character death, undead character, mild body horror

Idk I just wanted to write a sad thing. So. Here’s a snippet about the last day.

The eater hesitated at the edge of the clearing.

His Hunting-Man stood in the middle of the clearing, wrists joined by something shiny. He looked, and smelled, furious--and also a little frightened. Humans had hurt him. The eater’s Hunting-Man was strong, but he was not godlike. He could fall.

“Jaskier,” Hunting-Man said evenly, staring straight ahead, “Can you come here, please?”

The eater’s lips pulled back in a snarl. His Hunting-Man never asked him to come closer. He was coerced, then; it was a trap. The eater’s blood boiled as he searched the shadows for whoever was ordering his Hunting-Man around. His mouth began to water, and his stomach growled. He would kill these humans, yes; he would kill them and eat their hearts, and disappear before his Hunting-Man could see him. The eater was good at that.

“Jaskier.”

His Hunting-Man would look angry to anyone who did not know him as the eater did. He was not angry. He was terrified.

The eater flexed his fingers and rocked on his feet, unable to decide. He wanted to protect his Hunting-Man. He had to protect his Hunting-Man. That was the only thing he knew for certain, in his life as an eater; he had to protect his Hunting-Man.

Hunting-Man whispered, “Please.”

The eater tipped forward onto his knuckles and crawled out from behind the thick bush that had hidden him so well. Hearing his Hunting-Man speak in fear was too much for him. Carefully, the eater rose to his toes and scurried a little closer. Eaters were supposed to hide, and skulk, and steal; he felt exposed and small, stepping out into the faint brush of evening sun.

His Hunting-Man looked right at him. Yellow eyes met blue, and the eater saw the pain and grief in his Hunting-Man’s face. They had agreed silently that Hunting-Man would not look upon the eater, ever; so to be pinned beneath his Hunting-Man’s grieving gaze was a horrid experience.

“Jaskier. It’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you.” His Hunting-Man smelled of agony and despair and guilt. This would not do.

“No,” the eater said, his voice barely audible. “No sad. No sad, Geralt.” He straightened up again, then continued until he stood like a Man. His balance was bad and his legs were in pain, but he still stumbled forward, intent on his Hunting-Man’s face. “Don’t be sad.” His hands--his scarred, filthy, rough-skinned hands--reached out, and the eater began to pet his Hunting-Man’s cheeks and nose. “I help. I help you. Please don’t--”

Something sharp plunged into the eater’s side. It was silver. The eater opened his mouth to scream, but instead he heard himself say, “Don’t be sad. I kill bad things, yes? I kill them for you--” His legs gave out, the pain swamping his mind. His Hunting-Man dropped to his knees and looped his joined hands over the eater.

“Don’t talk,” his Hunting man hushed him. There was only love and grief on his face, now. “You’re alright, Jaskier. Just… don’t talk.” Something like a tear slid down his cheek. “Go to sleep, my heart.”

“I protect you.” The world was going dark, and the eater was very cold.

“I know. You protect me so well. Go to sleep, Jaskier. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

The eater nodded sluggishly and closed his eyes.

~

Geralt cradled Jaskier to him as the last dregs of poisonous blood dripped from his wound to the earth. He hadn’t wanted to see his bard like this--but now he couldn’t look away. The death-pale face and rotting eye, the yawning wounds, and the stench of putrefaction nearly overwhelmed Geralt. This wasn’t his bard. His Jaskier, who he had last seen convulsing on a necromancer’s table.

He could still picture the wide grin, the sparking blue eyes, the faintly-tanned skin. This undead carcass wasn’t Jaskier. And yet, it was all Geralt had left.

“It was necessary,” Ciri said, approaching slowly with her spent crossbow. She smelled like shame and self-loathing. “You know ghouls are…”

“I know,” Geralt whispered, wishing he could kiss Jaskier one last time. “I know.”

[elliestormfound]

I absolutely love @spielzeugkaiser necromancer!jaskier drawings/comics/headcanons! Look here

(I mean I love ALL of their drawings!!)

So I was thinking about Professor Pankratz at Oxenfurt University, who was asked to care for the flowers of a professor friend who is away for a few weeks. And all the flowers die because Jaskier first forgets to water them and then over waters them... and finally a few days before the professor friends comes back Jaskier sighs and sits down with his lute before the dead flowers and sings them his newest songs till they all come back to life!

That’s it 🌻

[spielzeugkaiser]

Is this me just posting page 3 out of 9 of a comic I'll probably never finish?? Yeah. (It was a 'Jaskier finally starts to remember' one)

(Kind of) companion comic / but more of a sequel to THIS.

[mikkeneko]

First Lines meme

Tagged by @hollyand-writes, @ushauz and @thethirdamell... hey guys, those were all the people *I* was going to tag, now what :P

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!  

What did the first demonic cultivator say to the second demonic cultivator? -  this could be the start of a calamitous friendship

" 'Let's all go on a night hunt together,' they said. 'It'll be a fun time with friends and family,' they said," Wei Wuxian complained bitterly. -  The Resentful Cultivator Who Cried 'I'm Fine'

Lan Wangji set foot on the bottom stair and climbed, following in his brother's wake. -  hot necromancer singles seeking dom daddies in your area

From this vantage point Wei Wuxian can see the stars and galaxies wheeling past, caught in their endless silent gavotte in heaven's vault. -  one hundred hours (straight down)

His brother ties the blindfold on at the base of the mountain. -  Five Things That Changed for Jiang Cheng After He Regained His Core (And One Thing That Never Did)

Wen Ning waits with his sister further down the corridor. -  waiting for the man who will take only one step

Twenty years ago and forty miles away, Wen Qing woke up. -  second verse, same as the first

It has been twenty years since the end of the Sunshot Campaign and, as far as Wei Wuxian is concerned, that's more than long enough for someone to do something about it. -  yakety sax arrangement for guqin and xiao

When the truck at last rattled and jolted across the final ruts and lumbered to a stop, when Geralt turned the key in the ignition and the powerful engine coughed once and finally silenced, Jaskier had to concentrate to unpeel himself from the passenger side cab and work the door open. -  If You Need Anyone To Stand Around And Not Contribute, You Know Where I'll Be

It was growing dark by the time Jester made it into the tavern, the wind picking up as it nipped around her ankles and snatched tufts of her hair. -  NO SMALL SACRIFICE (or, The Many Loves of Lavender)

The day had been going so well, and then Jaskier happened.  -  with silver tongue 

A hundred years ago, the river Dyphne had marked the boundary between Temeria and what had then been Koviss. -  the dying curse

“Can I offer you a piece of advice?” Jaskier said, to the burly man in the process of tying him to a tree. -  the splatter zone

The road from Sodden was proving a long one. -  white wolf supercut

It isn't that he's stalking  Jaskier. -  the scold's bridle

So here's the thing about Tieflings --  every time a bell rings a tiefling gets their wings

Thing is, ever since Beau got this circlet (a really cool   circlet honestly, def worth it even for the hit to the aesthetic) it's changed the way she thinks about the world, kinda. -  Family Secrets

Fjord stared down at the spreadsheets with his heart sinking into his boots. -  Fjord Mustang's YEEHAW! Fun and Pony Ranch

By the time the sun sank behind the ridge and cast them all in shadow they'd made it just barely below the snow line, but they'd been walking through snow and ice over rough terrain all day. -  SOJOURN (the house that caleb built)

In the land of Wildemount, where such things as genies and curses and seven-league boots really do exist, it is considered quite a misfortune to be the eldest of three. -  Molly’s Moving Castle

Sorry for the length, but tumblr wouldn’t let me put a readmore mid-list. So, what does this list tell me? That I’ve gone through three fandoms in the last twenty fics, first off, and also that my titling scheme is really all over the place.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In terms of patterns among first lines: If I can think of a really cool, distinctive or clever opening line, I open with it. #20 and #1 were both in that category, and #4 and #13 to a lesser extent. If I can’t think of anything particularly cool to open with, then I default to a pattern of fitting as many W questions into one line as possible: Who is in this scene, where are they, when is it, what are they doing. That usually helps me break the white page and get on with it.

Tagging any authors on my list who want to do it!

[artistsfuneral]

Inktober Prompt Four - Kiss

prompt by @ouiouilegay

modern au, getting eady for a date, Jaskier Priscilla, necromancer!Jaskier, short

„Daddy's home!“ Priscilla yelled obnoxiously loud as she threw the front door open and marched into Jaskier's apartment as if she lived there herself. Cursing like a sailor from the first war, Jaskier stumbled into his living room, eyeliner in hand as black tears rolled down his cheeks. “What the fuck, Lilly?! I stabbed myself!” Priscilla stared at him, her eyes following the eyeliner stained tears. “Seriously, Jaskier, Goth is not a good look on you.” The necromancer let out a loud groan and let his head fall back in a dramatic motion. “You don't say.”

She grinned and put down her arrangement of tote bags. “You should be a bit nicer to me, Jules. After all I came all the way to your apartment just for a 'fashion emergency'. You have Pintagram, it's not like you couldn't just look it up.”

Jaskier let out a tired sigh and flopped onto his couch, one foot draped over the backrest the other one on the floor. “I know, but, Lilly,” he whined out her name, “it's our third date and he's taking me to a pumpkin patch. A pumpkin patch, that man is absolutely adorable!”

Behind him, his best friend cooed. Jaskier smiled. “I know, right? I need to look fucking fabulous, without being overdressed for the occasion. Gods above, it's impossible. If he doesn't kiss me tonight, I might grow mad.”

“Wow, wait, hold on,” Priscilla grabbed him by the ankle and turned his body so he faced her, green eyes huge with disbelieve. “This is your third date and you haven't kissed yet?” Jaskier pushed his lower lip forward and nodded with a pout. “Sweet Melitele, it actually is an emergency. You're lucky, I brought exactly the right thing with me.” She turned around to ruffle through one of the tote bags. In a more serious tone, she added, “I'm actually surprised, you're usually way more straightforward when it comes to your dates.”

Jaskier hummed. He usually was, but it had been Geralt's request to take things slow. Ever since they've met that one evening on the train, Jaskier had found himself absolutely mesmerized by the witcher. It had started, quite obviously, with the huge amount of ghost horses that happily trailed after Geralt that day. Jaskier's blurted out sentence had caused a rather ridiculous conversation and before he knew it they were sitting in a little 24/7 coffee shop talking about... everything, really. Jaskier was absolutely enthralled with Geralt. He couldn't pinpoint it to one specific thing that he liked about the other man, rather it was an overwhelming amount of aspects that just clicked together.

Geralt was, by all means, absolutely gorgeous. While he was splattered with dirt and blood throughout their first conversation, he proved to be even prettier after a shower. (He had been late to their second date. After working late and falling asleep on the couch, Geralt had arrived with his hair still damp as he hastily put it in a bun, flashing Jaskier his stomach as his shirt hiked up.)

But it was a lot more than that. To his absolute delight, the necromancer had realized quickly that Geralt was shy. The stoic expression on his face was a well trained way of hiding it, but the way his golden eyes darted away when Jaskier complimented him, the way the tips of is ears turned red and how he kept pushing back loose strands of his hair, was telling enough. Jaskier found it endearing.

And as if that wasn't enough, he was also incredibly smart without being an as about it.

Jaskier smiled to himself, wiping the eyeliner tears from his cheek absentmindedly. “Priscilla, he's absolutely worth it,” he admitted softly and grinned up to her. She met his gaze with a look in her eyes that was very similar to the one his sisters had whenever they talked about love and relationships. The look suited her.

“Seems like you'll need this one,” she grinned as she held up a sunflower sweater. Jaskier gasped and immediately made grabby hands. “Oh Lilly, it's absolutely perfect!” She winked at him, flicking back her blond hair with a swift movement. “I know. Now go and put that on and those long cargo pants you have, I'll go grab your boots, then we will fix your teenage-anxt of a face.”

---

tag list: @ravenclaw-dirt @whitetyger123 @amethystpagan @raiwalk @endrega23 @etcorsolus @halfbloodprincez @supermutantprince @kuripon @hailhailsatan @tsukuyomi-selene @kuripon @selectivegeekwithstandards

[ao3feed-geralt-jaskier]

by JinxxMarquette

Sometimes Jaskier cursed the day Death had made a pact with his unborn soul, tying him to the immortal life of a necromancer and all of the bizarre powers that came with it.

Today was not one of those days.

 Bandits get the drop on Yennefer, Geralt, and Jaskier. The continent's favorite bard isn't considered a threat and is left unbound.

Big mistake.

Words: 1803, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Necromancy, Necromancer Jaskier, BAMF Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, obligatory bandit fic, geralt and jaskier, underestimating jaskier: BIG mistake

[for-a-muse-of-fire]

I got day-drunk and made 2 random DnD characters for shits and giggles.

Lysander de Marillac | Elven Bard, College of Whispers

Basically my excuse to RP as Jaskier

Falls in love easily, they can't help it!

There's family drama, I haven't decided what kind. Botched arranged marriage?

Róisín Crestvalor | Human Cleric, Grave Domain

Serves the Raven Queen.

Vicious, uncompromising hatred for necromancers.

Soft-spoken cinnamon role who will kill you.