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jaskier at the coast missing geralt :3c

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K but like imagine if while Ciri’s good at hiding, she’s even better at finding. Lambert tucked himself into a hay stack when Ciri and Geralt were hunting, and instead of the expected victory, she finds him within five seconds and he never learns why. Of them all, Jaskier holds out the longest, but often she’s found if she just picks up his lute and tries to play it, he’ll come bursting out of wherever he was hiding to take it away from her. 

do you think the wolf witchers play (competitive) hide and seek during the winter in Kaer Morhen?

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This is the quality content I come to Tumblr for. 

@janzoo asked: If it’s not too late…59 with Eskel and Ciri, please? We didn’t get nearly enough bonding moments with Ciri and the other witchers. :) Thank you!

59. One giving a piggy-back ride to the other: when your niece decides the best use of her unfathomable godchild powers is to ambush you into giving her a piggy-back ride 

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Meeting Sorceress Yennefer for the first time

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Currently accepting fic requests

Hey so, I just posted chapter six of the Camelot!AU, and I need a brain break, so if anyone wants to send me fic prompts and get a short fic, hit up my ask box! 

#witcher #witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #fic prompts

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I loved it Ellie 😉

Can I interest you in the concept of... Eskel with pink hair? And potentially a really short fic about just that?

This is wonderful, anon. Thank you for the prompt!! I decided to go with a Modern AU just because it was the first thing I thought of. If I had done canon I would have gone off the rails about magic.

—

“It could be worse,” Geralt hummed, completely ignoring the distress in Eskel’s voice. “It could have turned out orange.”

“It was supposed to be red, Geralt!” Eskel complained. “Not this, this-“ he was cut off as Lambert entered the room.

“Where’s the— ohhh,” Lambert said, spotting Eskel’s hair. “Oh, you will never live this one down.”

Eskel glared over at Geralt, who was holding his phone casually. “You told him to come over?”

“He said it was an emergency,” Lambert said. “What color were you trying to get?” He asked through barely contained snickers.

“Red,” Eskel and Geralt answered at the same time— Geralt sounding significantly more enthusiastic.

“Guess you’re never getting that dye again,” Lambert said. Eskel groaned in annoyance.

“If It’s any consolation,” Geralt began, “my hair turned out great.” He shook his head, long silver hair swishing at his shoulders.

“Oh, fuck off!”

—

I hope you liked it’!

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WITCHER APPRECIATION WEEK

Day 1, favourite character: Ciri, 

(of fucking course lmao) 

#cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #witcher #witcher netflix

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The Witcher Appreciation Week – day one: favorite character

JASKIER

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Wait so we’ve heard @valdomarx ‘s Jaskier Is Geralt’s Sugardaddy thesis (which, YES), but consider...

Yennefer:

easily bored by shitty nobles

but DOES play girlfriend to Sir Eyck

sells magic viagra to peasants for coin

also starts her own skincare line

where is she getting the funds to start her business and keep her in furs?

Jaskier:

as previously established, flush with cash

loves a tough nut to crack (Geralt)

loves to be in love with powerful older women

also loves being the center of attention

ALWAYS HORNY

THEREFORE Yennefer:

stone doms Jaskier for money

and fun!!

THEREFORE Jaskier:

is this real Frankie Muniz tweet

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Here is my new illustration I made thanks to patreon! Depending on which tiers you choose, you can help me deciding what I should draw next! I also shared the wips and it was a lot of fun!  I hope you’ll enjoy it!!  if you are interested by print, visit my INPRINT store!

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A few friends sent me some prompts last night because I’ve been stuck in a little bit of a rut, so here’s something short for my friend Zach who wanted some post-tw3 father/daughter softness.

I’ve never really written much about Ciri so I did my best, but I kinda like how it came out

——————

It had been a long time since she’d come home.

She’d only visited Corvo Bianco twice now, but the sweet scent that lingers on the fields and the house at the top of the hill welcome her, a comforting sight after a long ride. She came here once just after Geralt had retired— somewhat. He still tracks down the occasional ekimmara, maybe an endrega nest every now and then. He’d go mad if he didn’t, even with Yennefer here to keep him entertained. She knows that, in a way, he misses the hunt, the thrill that followed his silver sword from its scabbard. That sword now rarely leaves its place on the wall, still sharp and raring to meet a monster’s neck once again.

It’s strange to consider the vineyard her home. Home has always been a difficult concept to her. Cintra, her birthplace, fell when she was young. She’s heard of the Nilfgaardians rebuilding there, but curiosity has not yet driven her to return and see for herself. Even rebuilt, she fears that memories will still flood those streets and overwhelm her. Then Kaer Morhen became a battleground. The abandoned keep haunts her. She avoids going too far north, lest she spots the mountain where she knows the castle lies and is reminded of what is left behind. Yet again, she was left without a place to call home. She wasn’t sure when it finally struck her that her home wasn’t a place at all.

Geralt was her home. Wherever he went, she went too. And she was home.

As Ciri slides from the saddle, she spots him sitting on the porch, hunched over— he always did have terrible posture— and reading as the sun hangs low before him and casts shadows across the vineyard. She knows better than to think he isn’t fully aware of her presence, but it’s far too much fun to mess with him.

“Has retirement stripped you of your senses, old man?” she quips as she scales the steps leading to the house.

Geralt smirks and turns the page, his eyes never straying from the paper.

“I heard you coming,” he says. “I’m old, not decrepit.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Smelled you a mile away. You’re as bad as Yen, except you smell… smokier. Smoke and… pine needles. That’s what it is.”

“And you didn’t even bother to put down your book?” she asks, her hands on her hips as a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “Rude.”

“Only because I like to rile you up,” he chuckles, setting aside his book and looking up at her with a warm smile. Green and gold meet at last. His yellow eyes are as sharp as ever and filled with a warmth a father reserves only for his daughter. He stands and without a second thought they fall into a much needed hug. Ciri tucks her head under his chin just as she did when she was a child. She’s home.

Geralt holds her at an arm's length and scowls playfully.

“Are you getting taller? Didn’t I tell you to stop doing that?” he says.

“You’ve been telling me that since I was fifteen,” Ciri laughs. “And no, I just have new boots.”

Geralt cocks his head to the side and asks, “What happened to your old ones? I got those for you.”

“They were falling apart, wolf, I needed new ones or else I’d be running around the swamps barefoot.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. You used to hate wearing your boots, do you remember? Lambert couldn’t be bothered to make you put them on so he took you down the mountain barefoot—”

“I remember. Spare me the embarrassing stories,” Ciri groans, lifting herself onto the wooden banister and leaning back on her hands. Geralt chuckles as he resumes his place on the bench.

“But there’s so many to tell. You were such a ridiculous child. Still are,” he teases. All their quips and witticisms are shared with a knowing smile and a laugh. They can’t help but tease, they each give the other too many opportunities— and, well, she was raised under the same roof as Lambert. It was inevitable.

“Go get your sword, I’ll show you ridiculous, old man.”

“You think you could best me?”

“Could do it with my eyes closed.”

“We’ll see about that— tomorrow. I’ll let you get a good night’s rest first. Wouldn’t want you to be at more of a disadvantage.”

As the sun sets over the vineyard, they exchange more empty insults and stories of their time apart. To her father’s dismay, an old friend seems to have passed on his libidinous tendencies as she recounts several tales of being chased from towns by scorned spouses and taking her leave hastily through windows and tumbling into rose bushes. Once upon a time, he was no better than her or Dandelion, but that doesn’t mean she should be as bad. Geralt requests that the next time she visits, she brings more books, he’s running out and he needs something to stop him from tearing apart the whole house and rebuilding it himself. Ciri laughs and reassures him that she will. She supposes it’s the least she can do for her old man to keep him sane.

“You should invite Dandelion down here more often,” Ciri says. “He’s getting awfully bored of giving lectures and playing the same old songs every night.”

Geralt perks up at the mention of his old friend.

“You’ve seen him?”

“I have. Thought I’d stop by on my way from Troy, give him some new stories to write about. He misses you, you know.”

“I know, I miss him, too. I miss his singing. I’ll write to him, but he better not drink all my wine like he did last time.”

“Are you two going to come inside or not?” a third voice asks.

Yennefer stands by the door, her arms folded in contrast to the affectionate smile on her face. The smell that follows her out the door is divine, but Ciri’s excitement far outweighs her hunger. She finds herself grinning as she slips from her perch and runs to Yennefer with her arms outstretched. The sorceress laughs and takes her into her arms, hugging her tightly and stroking her ashen hair.

“Welcome home, Ciri.”

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AIGHT CHAPTER FIVE IS UP

Not that anyone cares about it. But I’m posting for fun and that’s what matters

#witcher fic #witcher fanfiction #witcher

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stanny imo 

Hmm... if @thecomfortofoldstorries 's nickname is Comfy, and @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher 's nickname is Bouncey, then...

...would my nickname be Tossy?

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I’ve seen people write Jaskier as going through a grungy phase after the mountain like lettin his beard grow out and not dressing as brightly but like

what if it was the opposite

and his preening just SKY rocketed ‘cause he thinks it’ll make him feel better

and when they finally meet again, jaskier is full elton john status

“You wanted to talk, Geralt?”

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looking at you pheebs 

reblog to send your mutuals a hug. maybe just the thought is enough to cheer them up 🥺

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Anya Chalotra’s precious smile and laugh