#does geralt just not listen to jaskier’s music or…?

[sainamoonshine]

Me, only watching three (3) episodes of the witcher and consuming the rest via tumblr osmosis and fanfics: oh cool we’re shipping the twink bard with the witcher, probably in the same way tumblr exaggerates bromances in most tv shows into shippable content but the fics are fun so I can get behind this

Me, listening to the twink bard’s canon songs that spotify only just now saw fit to throw at me: ………….. oh so the twink bard is in love love with the witcher guy? How is this not canon there is no other way to interpret this

#the witcher #sorry im late to this party I guess #still no interest in actually watching the show but those songs SLAP #… #does geralt just not listen to jaskier’s music or…? #geraskier #gerald x jaskier

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

for the kiss prompts - a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling + geraskier, pretty please 🥺

Jaskier has never been one to suffer stage fright. Since the first time he gave an impromptu performance at one of his parents’ banquets at the age of seven, he’s soaked up the spotlight at any chance he can get. There’s nothing he delights in more than having a crowded tavern or ballroom watching him with starry eyes, hanging onto his every word. He knows he’s good at what he does, a far cry from the boy who used to get bread pelted at his head while he sang about hags and abortions.

Except that as he stands behind the stage at the Oxenfurt Music Festival, listening to a pair of Nazairi troubadours sing a lovely duet, his insides roil with the same queasy nervousness he’s carried with him all day. He glances over at Geralt to make sure the witcher doesn’t notice. Geralt is leaning against the wall, looking remarkably stoic for a man who has been dragged to a music festival entirely against his will. 

Jaskier can’t let him know how nervous he is, not when Geralt took on two wyverns singlehandedly only three days ago. The fact that Jaskier, who has been a traveling bard for years, who has faced far scarier things than a crowd of onlookers (usually while cowering behind Geralt, but his point stands) has stage fright is too mortifying to admit. Luckily, Jaskier is excellent at keeping his feelings under wraps after years of traveling with his witcher. He’s sure Geralt has no idea.

“You’re nervous,” Geralt says.

Fuckity fuck.

“Nervous?” Jaskier breaks off in a monologue about how he lost the Student Bardic Competition to Valdo Marx his final year due to trickery and biased judging. “I’m not nervous! Merely excited to claim yet another in my long list of accolades.”

“You stink of anxiety.”

Jaskier just manages to resist the urge to sniff himself. “Why, thank you, Geralt. How kind of you to say. And here I thought you liked this new perfume.”

Geralt just stares at him, unimpressed.

Jaskier sighs. “I seem to have come down with the tiniest case of stage fright.”

“Stage fright?” Geralt arches an eyebrow. “But you perform all the time.”

“Not at places like this.” Jaskier waves his hand in the direction of the stage.

“You just told me in detail about all seven times you performed here before. You said you won five times.”

“And it would have been all seven, if Valdo Marx weren’t a cad and a cheat.” Jaskier puffs up in remembered outrage. “But that was the Student Bardic Festival. Everyone expects the acts there to be a little bit shit. Melitele help them, but my classmates didn’t give me much of a run for their money, save for Valdo and Essi. This is the first time I’ve performed in a professional competition.”

“And that’s why you’re nervous.”

“Yes!” Jaskier throws up his hands in exasperation. “I know this isn’t a wyvern or an angry mob, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of thousands of people!”

Geralt gets an expression on his face like he’s valiantly refraining from pointing out that Jaskier doesn’t normally care about making a fool of himself. “You perform all the time.”

“For drunks in taverns who won’t notice if I make a bunk of the pronunciation of an elven ballad or courtiers who wouldn’t know a wrong note if it hit them in the face. Many of these people are trained musicians themselves who have come from all over the Continent to be here today. I have to be perfect.”

“Then be perfect.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier moans and slaps his hands over his eyes. “Have you ever heard of Elsa Svensen?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Of course you haven’t! She was a cautionary tale when I was at Oxenfurt, a rising star in the bardic circuit until she tried to sing The Six Swans at the Lan Exeter Bardic Festival.” At the blank look on his witcher’s face, Jaskier elaborates. “It’s a famously difficult ballad in Elder. Very long, lots of tricky notes. She butchered it so badly that she was laughed off stage! Suffice to say, there was an unfortunate mispronunciation and she sang a line about the hero committing unspeakable acts with a donkey in front of the entirety of Lan Exeter, including the king and queen. It ended her career. Rumor has it that she changed her name and is now working as a traveling player.”

Geralt doesn’t look suitably horrified, in Jaskier’s opinion.

“A traveling player, Geralt!” Jaskier practically shrieks, which isn’t good for his voice, but he can’t stop himself. “I can’t act! There isn’t a single troupe of traveling players that would have me. I’ll starve. Gods, I should never have let Essi talk me into this. I’m too young to live in disgrace. Can you go out there and tell them that a horrible tragedy has befallen me and an evil witch has stolen my voice? Ooh, yes, say I’ve ruined her for all other men and this is my punishment. Do you think we can find an actual witch in—”

He doesn’t realize Geralt is approaching him until the witcher presses a brief kiss to his lips.

Jaskier blinks, surprised. Geralt isn’t one for displays of affection where anyone else might see. “What are you—”

Geralt kisses him again. Jaskier can feel the curl of his lips.

“Geralt, this is—”

Another kiss, this one accompanied by Geralt nipping at his lower lip.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says through another kiss. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Trying to shut you up.”

“How dare—”

Geralt kisses him again. “You were working yourself up.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to protest, then realizes he was just plotting to find an actual witch to steal his voice in order to get out of a performance. Perhaps Geralt has a point. “Right.”

“You know Elder too well to accidentally sing about donkeys. And if you do manage to fuck up so badly that you ruin your career, I won’t let you starve.”

Jaskier melts into him. “Geralt, that’s the sweetest—”

“Because you’re right, you’d be a shit traveling player.” Geralt’s lips quirk.

“You—”

Geralt kisses him again, slow and sweet, and Jaskier feels the last bit of tension drain out of him.

“Jaskier the Bard!” a woman’s voice calls from the stage. “Also known as the Dandelion!”

“That’s you.” Geralt pushes him towards the stage. “You’ll do great, Jask.”

Jaskier can’t help but smile at him. “How can I not, after a sweet pep talk like that?”

“Hm. Probably not as great as Valdo Marx did earlier.” A full-on smile spreads over Geralt’s face at Jaskier’s outrage. “But we’ll see.”

And just for that, Jaskier gives the best damn performance of his life. Which is probably what Geralt intended, the terrible man.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

Kiss prompts

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

[biscuitbox23]

The Stag and the Warbler

Pairing: Jaskier/Dandelion x Witcher!Reader.

Summary: The bard has written a song about you. And it has given you a lot to think about.

Author's note: It's a late night thought I've had for a while. Jaskier has always been my favorite character in both the Witcher games, books and the tv show. I wanted to give him a bit of honor by writing this :) —also a little Skyrim reference cuz im not creative in song writing.

Warning: platonic love, fluff, kind of a bittersweet ending.

As Jaskier strummed the strings of his lute, he hummed the tune of a popular ballad. "Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart…" he sang but then paused mid-verse, his forehead creasing in concentration. "I tell you, I tell you, the Witcher comes- no, that does not sound so good," he muttered.

You couldn't help but chuckle at him. You busied yourself with grooming your loyal steed, Melorax. The horse stood still, contentedly munching on bits of hay. While you brushed off dust and dirt from his coat, you could see the tiny frown written on Jaskier's face as he tried to come up with a better verse for his song.

Curious, you asked him, "Who is this hero exactly?"

Jaskier looked up, glad for the distraction. "Ah, well," he said, his fingers stilling on the lute. "It's just a tale, my friend. A story of a brave warrior who fights for justice and honor."

You nodded, understanding the stories that Jaskier shared with you during your travels as a Witcher. Tales like these were always inspiring and entertaining. Jaskier had been your companion for quite a while now, and you had grown fond of his musical talents and witty banter. He would often compare your kinder nature to his friend Geralt, who hailed from a different Witcher school whom you had heard of but never met. After grooming Melorax, you approached the front of the horse and kissed his soft muzzle. The horse whinnied softly, and you smiled at him, feeling content.

"You know I just hunt monsters for coin," you recall, sitting near him as you started the small bonfire.

"Well, yes. But, Y/n of Verden makes a good song subject. Don't you think?" Jaskier smiled widely at you as you put your hands near the fire for warmth. His fingers began strumming on his lute, calmly humming with the tune of his renowned instrument.

You began to listen closely. "With a silver sword gleaming and signs so fierce and cold…" Jaskier sang, "Believe, believe, the Stag of Verden has told."

"Stag?" You asked sheepishly, looking over at him with an expression of confusion.

"Umm… do you prefer to be called deer?" Jaskier asked sheepishly.

"Just confused with the Stag part…" you replied.

"Well, you remind me of a stag."

"How so?" You asked.

"Well, you're strong, very resilient, and almost similar to that of a protector of the realm," Jaskier beamed with poetic pride.

Upon hearing those words, a sense of pride and appreciation washed over you. It was rare for a Witcher to receive such positive recognition, as they are empty vessels of beings whose sole purpose was to slaughter monsters and collect payment. Being regarded as a hero was a new and unexpected experience for you. However, it was evident that most people still saw you as an exterminator who only existed to rid the world of dangerous pests rather than a true hero. All you let out was a slight chuckle.

Jaskier turned his head towards you, and his eyes met yours. He noticed the corners of your mouth curling up, and your eyes sparkled. Curious, he leaned slightly to his right and tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of what had caused this reaction in you. "What's so funny, Y/n?" he asked, his voice full of genuine interest and amusement.

"Oh, nothing," you jested. With a look of concern on the bard's face, he turned his gaze back towards his musical instrument, the loot. He asked in a questioning tone, "Is there something wrong with my song? Don't you like it?"

"I assure you that I like it," you said to the worried songwriter before returning to warm your hands by the fire. "Please continue."

Jaskier's face lit up with joy as he responded, "As you wish." He meticulously plucked the strings of his lute, producing a melody that seemed to flow effortlessly from his fingers. His body swayed with the rhythm, and it was clear from his performance that he was a true virtuoso of his craft.

"In the heart of the woodlands, where shadows dance and play Beware, beware, the Stag is on her way For monsters she'll conquer, with every foe she'll slay

You'll know, you'll know, the Stag brings light to the gray."

You were captivated as the bard plucked at the strings of his lute, his voice soft and sweet as honey. The music wrapped around you like a warm embrace, easing the tension in your body and calming your mind. The bard's songs were beautiful masterpieces of melody and meaning. What impressed you the most was how his music seemed to capture the essence of the world around you, bringing to life the sights and sounds of your travels in a way that words alone never could. Being a Witcher often meant living a life of solitude and danger. It made you feel isolated and alone. But having the bard by your side changed everything. His easy conversation and quick wit were a constant source of comfort and amusement, and you eagerly looked forward to every new adventure with him by your side.

By the end, you knew you could never repay the bard for all he had given you, but you were grateful nonetheless.

"You know one thing," you thought to him, "you remind me of a Warbler."

The bard chuckled at you with his sweet smile, "a warbler?"

"Yeah, those birds that sing a lot," you recalled.

As you reminisce about your childhood, your mind wanders back to when you were a young girl, growing up in a Witcher school. Life wasn't easy for you, especially since you were a frail child with a mother who struggled to provide for you. Days at school could be long and tiring, and you often find yourself exhausted by the end of them.

One particular memory that stands out to you is the sound of the Warblers that would perch on the window sill of your room. Their melodic songs would echo through the walls, piercing your ears and keeping you awake at night. You would try to drown out the noise by covering your ears with your pillow, but it was no use - the Warblers always seemed to find a way to sing their way into your thoughts. Despite the annoyance they caused, however, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in their presence. After all, they had been a constant presence in your life for as long as you could remember.

"They were annoying when I was young," You scoffed playfully, "I hated listening to them sing whenever I wanted some peace. Now that I'm older, I wish they still sang to me," you look at the burning bonfire as the warmth engulfed the front of your body. “I like your songs, jaskier, even if you played the same tune for a week. I won’t get tired of you.”

"Huh…" Jaskier gave your statement some thought, "I've never had anyone think of me that way." He sat over next to the fire, feeling a bit cold.

"Why? May I ask," You cocked a brow at him.

"I'm a bit of an exasperation and––" Before Jaskier could continue, he stopped himself. He could ruin his godly reputation in front of you, and he did not want that.

"A skirt-chaser?" You continued.

"Oh- No, no, not that," you can sense the embarrassment that overcame his confidence.

"right, alright," A mischievous chuckle escaped your lips as you heard the mention of the notorious bard. His reputation preceded him, and you couldn't help but be amused. Word on the street was he had a knack for breaking up marriages or being the third person for sleeping with married men's wives. You won't deny it. Jaskier was handsome and quite the romantic.

The atmosphere was serene as if the world had a standstill. Not a sound except for the gentle rustling of leaves as the wind passed through the trees. "Can you sing me a song, Jaskier?" You asked, "Please?"

As Jaskier continued his endless string of tales, you couldn't help but politely express your reluctance to hear more. In response, Jaskier flashed a sweet smile and said, "Yes, you may, Y/n."

One day, Jaskier won't be around you. One day, you won't ever see him again, and it will be just you and Melorax on the lonely road. It could happen tomorrow, or it could be years from now. You tried not to dwell on that possibility, but it was always there lingering at the edges of your consciousness. But that did not matter now. It was a love that grew deep inside you that you have never felt. It's a companionship that was a strange yet familiar feeling. One day, he will see you as a monster like everyone else did when they saw you. Despite this, You listened intently to his stories and musings, even when they seemed nonsensical or meandering. You laughed at his jokes and marveled at his wit. You knew these moments were precious, and you never took them for granted because you will never know when that moment will end.

A/n: hey guys :) I apologize if my interpretation of Jaskier and the Witcher universe had errors. I was busy with school to read the books and watch the show for extra context and accuracy and did this all by itself. Overall, im unite happy with how this turned out.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier x reader #jaskier the witcher #witcher netflix #dandelion #jaskier #the witcher 3 #biscuitwrites #Show some love guys <3

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Headaches

Geralt is no stranger to headaches. He gets them when he's dehydrated, gone without eating or sleeping for too long, or when Jaskier won't stop talking. He usually just drinks some willow bark tea, or takes one of Yennefer's potions and rides it out. He doesn't really get them often, not like Jaskier does.

Jaskier gets the usual types that humans get. As a bard, he is familiar with hangover headaches. They don't really last that long, surprisingly. After a few hours, the hangover is gone, and Jaskier is ready to inflict another on himself with another round of drinking while entertaining the crowds.

He also gets the I-stayed-up-too-late-working-on-a-song headache.

Geralt is surprised that Jaskier doesn't get those types of headaches more often. Many a time, Geralt had woken up to find Jaskier still awake, well past midnight, frantically scribbling away by candlelight.

"Only work on my songs during the day light hours? Perposterous! When the muses speak, I must listen!"

"Wait until morning?! But the idea is already there in my head!"

"Make a note? Make a f***ing note?"

"Do you even know how inspiration works?"

He's always a real b**tard in the morning after these late nights.

Jaskier whines as they travel, about how his head hurts, and about his eyes hurting, rubbing at them and squinting. He eventually stops complaining, and returns to his cheery self, going back to annoying Geralt for fun by making up silly songs to go with the situation.

Geralt mostly ignores the complaining and the whining. He's used to it by now. He can tell when something is really hurting his bard. It's all in how he complains.

"You okay, Jaskier?" Geralt asked as he watched Jaskier from the other side of the campfire. The bard had been quietly working out a tune, making notes and adjusting lyrics, pausing often to blink his eyes or rub them.

"Yeah, Geralt. My head just...hurts, and my eyes too."

No overly dramatic whining. Uh-oh... Geralt saw how the bard's eyebrows pinched together and he closed his eyes for a second.

"I'll make you some willow bark tea."

Jaskier had nodded and put his notebook away. He'd finished the tea and turned in. He seemed better in the morning and was back to his chatty self.

Hmm...

As the year went by, Geralt noticed Jaskier was getting those random headaches more often, and his eyes kept feeling tired. Geralt said nothing, merely kept an eye on him. Jaskier was squinting more when he worked on his music, and especially when he was copying lyrics and notes from loose pages to his notebook.

He would pause and hold up his page, staring intently at it, sometimes holding it at a distance. Then he would grumble and go back to scribbling.

Jaskier tried to ignore the f***ing sharp pain in his temples that he would get after only a few minutes of working. He tried sitting closer to the fire or use a few extra candles at night. He tried working on his compositions during the day, in the sunlight. His eyes just sometimes refused to focus on the letters, but he didn't seem to have a problem seeing.

He didn't notice that he was slowly having to hold small things farther and farther away from his face. When he did notice, it was right in the middle of patching Geralt up after a contract. It had been quite inconvenient when he'd had to ask Geralt to thread the needle for him first. He'd blamed it on the adrenaline and his shaking hands.

The headaches became an almost daily thing, and Geralt was starting to worry. Adjusting Jaskier's neck didn't help, and Geralt didn't know what else to do. He was getting to the point where he was about to suggest Jaskier see a Healer.

He watched Jaskier trying to write a letter to Yennefer one evening as they rested at an inn. Jaskier wrote her often as he and Geralt traveled the Path, keeping her abreast of their adventures, and indirectly telling her how much he missed her by complaining about Geralt and what an inconsiderate c*ckwomble he was, dragging him all over the Continent, etc.

Jaskier leaned away from the table, head craned back a little, and doing The Eyebrow Thing while he tried to stay close enough to write comfortably. After a few monents, he heaved a quiet sigh and closed his eyes, wincing.

Something in Geralt's brain clicked. Ah, that could be the problem! He pulled out the supply list he'd made earlier and handed it to Jaskier, rumbling casually, "Here's what we need from the market. Is there anything else you want to add to it before I go tomorrow?"

Jaskier held the list out at almost arm's length to examine it.

He did The Eyebrow Thing.

"You can't see it clearly, can you?"

"Of course I can f***ing see it! I just can't tell if that's and 'a' or an 'e'. Your handwriting is sh*t!" *holds paper a little farther away and squints*

Geralt: *takes paper and runs to the opposite side of the room with it* "Can you see it now?"

"You're such an a**hole!"

"And you're having trouble with your eyes, Jask. That's why you're getting so many headaches."

"It's just the late nights and early mornings! My eyes are a little strained!"

"Then what's the list say?" Geralt held the paper up at a normal reading distance. Jaskier glared at him, tried to force his eyes to focus on the writing, then answered sarcastically, "It doesn't say anathin. Paper can't talk, Geralt."

"Don't be a smarta**."

"Fine, ya b**tart! Ah can't f***ing read it that close!" he snapped, Northern accent getting heavier.

Jaskier's tone went from annoyed to anxious, "Geralt...do, do ye think am going blind...?" Geralt was quiet as he thought about that possibility.

He knew there were instances when healthy humans just lost their eyesight to some weird human disease. He tipped Jaskier's head back and looked closely at his eyes. He didn't see any cloudiness, or odd coloring. But that didn't mean it wasn't there. It could just be in the early stages.

Jaskier gripped Geralt's arms abruptly, fear lacing his voice, "Geralt, what if it's what happened to that man at the harvest festival last year?"

Geralt felt a little icecicle of dread slide into his heart. Last year, a young man complaining of a headache had dropped dead in the middle of the harvest festival.

It probably wasn't the same thing, but the tiny seed of doubt had been planted, and Geralt did not want to take the risk.

"Let's go see Yen. She'll take a look at you and find out what's wrong." Geralt contacted Yennefer that night, and arranged for her to meet them on the road.

They found each other on the road outside of White Bridge. Yennefer had rushed, rushed to meet them, and she made sure they both knew it. Geralt saw right past the front she was putting up. She was worried about their bard. She had jumped off her horse and swept up to Jaskier, demanding to know what dumba**ery he'd gotten himself into.

Jaskier had stood there looking like he was considering taking his chances going blind or dropping dead from whatever mysterious disease he was suffering from. A few moments later, after Yennefer had intensely examined his eyes and his head, she was yelling at him for scaring making her waste her time.

Then they were arguing back and forth, insulting each other and carrying on while Yennefer fixed the very minor problem.

"Absurd, absolutely absurd, making me leave my very important work because your dumb a** panics over f***ing age related vision changes!"

"Age related-!"

"You're 40, you kn*b! You're starting to feel your age. Here, hold this! *hands him his open notebook*

*gasps dramatically, goes Northern* "Feel my age-! How dare ya, ya hag! Implying that am old! Remind me again who's over 70--what the h*ll am Ah supposed tae be doing with this?"

"Just hold it right here-!"

Jaskier: *starts moving book away*

Yennefer: *slaps him on the head* "I said right here! Melitele, can't you follow simple directions?"

"But Ah can't read it! It's all blurry-!

Yennefer :*lays her hand on his head and does magic* "Can you see it clearly now?"

"Oh, f**k! Wow, Ah can! And it's so clear! It says...it says, 'F**k you, you mediocre tw*t. P.S. Your eyeliner looks like sh*t, and that shirt is ugly!'" *affronted screeching*

Geralt watched them fuss and cuss at each other while Yennefer made a few adustments to Jaskier's eyesight. They were still quarreling when they set off, escorting Yennefer back to Aretuza.

Geralt sighed. He felt a headache coming on.

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskifer #geraskefer #yenskier #yennskier #yennaskier #yenneskier #headache headcanon

[thelostgirl21]

When you read some of the things you'd written before watching Season 3, and they suddenly take on a new meaning...

His "weapon" isn't a sword, magic, or even his lute. After all, "Whoreson Prison Blues" sounded fantastic accompanied by spoons!

Yes. Spoons always make Jaskier sound fantastic. Jaskier really knows how to work with spoons, and work those spoons!

All Jaskier truly needs, to sound great and inspired, really, is a spoon!

Give Jaskier a spoon, and they'll be making sweet music together... Both literally and figuratively...

He doesn't need a weapon, he's one of the single most influential character of the series, in a sense, just by virtue of existing and doing "what he does best" - being an impulsively chaotic bard either seducing or pissing people off; and just touching things he probably shouldn't touch, and putting random stuff in his mouth.

Radovid, Comma Prince of Redania: *Spends his whole life doing everything he can to stay under the radar, be kept out of Redanian politics, and appear really dumb, incompetent, and drunk (note: although he was only pretending to be drunk with Jaskier in that scene, I think Hugh Skinner mentioned that Radovid does drink quite a lot to cope with everything that's going on, though, sort of as a way to "self-medicate") so people will let him be.*

Jaskier: *Shows up.*

Radovid: *Intensely crushes on him. Forgets he's supposed to play dumb, and instead offers actually good and sensible arguments as to why Jaskier Cirilla should come live with them in Redania.*

Jaskier: *Shows willingness to listen to Radovid, and offers to do what he can to convince Geralt and Ciri to accept the offer, should they find a way to get rid of Rience.*

Philippa: *Is impressed, and compliments Radovid on it.*

Radovid: *Immediately attempts to go back to playing dumb, hiding, and hopefully being of no interest to her or anyone else at court.*

Jaskier: *Shows up again, flirts with Radovid, lets him know that he's not fooled by his dumb drunken playboy prince act, utterly seduces him with a song (and as many "come hither looks" as one can humanly make fit in a single encounter) and humbly asks for his help.*

Radovid: *Falls even deeper in love with him, drops his act with Jaskier and agrees to help him. Suddenly gets deeply involved in Redanian politics. Argues with the spymasters that, maybe, they should start using carrots with people instead of sticks. Puts Philippa on Rience's trail, while letting Dijkstra know about his brother's secret meetings with Nilfgaard (probably counting on him to change Vizimir's mind regarding his plans of handing Ciri over to the Emperor), regularly starts showing disdain for Dijkstra's methods and gets himself on the spymaster's "shitlist"...*

Of course, one thing leads to another, and next thing you know:

Queen Hedwig is dead,

King Vizimir is dead, and now he's

Radovid, Comma King of Redania.

Right at the start of the second war between the Northern Kingdoms and the Nilfgaardian Empire, no less...

With his sister-in-law and brother's murderer(s) still likely running around the castle somewhere, and working for the people that just put that crown on his head...

And the love of his life still out there, risking his own life, hopefully having managed to reunite with Geralt, and now facing who knows how many dangers to attempt to go rescue Ciri...

So much for staying under the radar and avoiding to get politically involved!

Jaskier: *Seduces the Prince of Redania and uses his lips for extraordinary things...

...accidentally triggers a series of events that changes Redania's line of succession, and totally upends the power structure and dynamic of the strongest kingdom of the Continent!*

By this point, I would almost expect Geralt's response to learning that Vizimir has been assassinated, and that Prince Radovid has ascended to the throne, to be:

"Alright Jaskier, what did you do?"

Obviously, I knew that Prince Radovid was rumored to be Jaskier's new love interest in Season 3 back then... But I had absolutely no idea what Radovid's character would be like in terms of personality, motivations, etc.

Turns out that they found Jaskier a love interest that is basically as directionless and lonely in life as Geralt used to be in Season 1. Someone that doesn't want to get involved in politics or any of those games people in position of power like to play, and is basically just going through the motions of his life...

Until Jaskier shows up and, suddenly, he finds himself right at the heart of those politics, forced to make decisions and choices that will shape the future of the whole freaking Continent!

The main difference is that Geralt sort of continuously fought against Destiny, tried to ignore it, deny it, and push it away. And then, he blamed Jaskier for everything that went wrong and attempted to cut himself from him!

Whereas Radovid just immediately found himself irresistibly drawn to it and embraced whatever changes Jaskier brought into his life, while starting to make choices and take risks out of love without ever blaming him for it, or making it sound like he remotely held Jaskier responsible whenever things misfired or went wrong.

And even when things do go horribly wrong, all Radovid can think of, apparently, while looking at his dead brother is "going to see Jaskier."

But then, Geralt is much older than Radovid is and, from what I understand, has had his dreams and hopes crushed quite a few times whenever he's let his guard down and dared get attached to people in the past.

When you keep suffering loss after loss after loss... at some point, you probably figure that the best way to avoid loss is no longer feeling like you have anything valuable to lose. If you need no one, then you won't risk losing anyone.

Whereas Radovid's never had anyone from his own world he was able to genuinely emotionally connect with. And suddenly, he finds someone that sees him and is making an effort to attempt to understand him - something and someone he's discovered that he needs and doesn't want to lose.

But yeah, it's really fascinating, on the show, to see the way that our beloved bard just keeps... basically causing stuff to happen!

For better or for worse, Jaskier is making people that seemingly don't want to get involved be involved, and making them discover whatever their purpose appears to be in the grand scheme of things!

Yennefer:

The "Destiny" that brought them together:

And now that Lauren Hissrich has clearly stated that Ciri wasn't the descendant of Éile and Fjall that the prophecy was referring to in "The Witcher: Blood Origin", one has to wonder if it could be Jaskier.

Okay, first I just want to address people saying that it's sort of a "retcon" on what she'd said in the past and that she'd "all but confirmed it was Ciri already", because I actually found that interview and listened to it, and that's not quite what I took from it.

I mean yes, I can see how it could have been interpreted the way it was, but what she actually said is:

"Éile's pregnant, at the end. And we know that that's part of Ithlinne's Prophecy; that there is a seed in her that will eventually lead to someone who's important in the Witcher's world.

So, as someone who, for instance, on "The Witcher" 's side, follows Ciri and the origin of her genes and her blood... It's like, I kinda wanna know where that character's gonna go.

I wanna know if these two things are going to, you know, crash into each other at some point."

So, the way I personally understand it is that:

"Blood Origin" introduced the idea that there currently is someone, in the Witcher's world, that is connected to the Ithlinne's Prophecy by blood (by virtue of being the descendant of Fjall and the Lark), and that they will sing the last note of a song that ends all time.

The prophecy about them goes:

"The time of the spheres is upon us. Aen Seidhe [the elves of the Continent] lost across the skies. Cast adrift in time. Ever searching for love, lost and left behind. The Lark’s seed shall carry forth the first note of a song that ends all times. And one of her blood shall sing the last."

And that, on the show "The Witcher", Ciri's also a character whose genes and blood is given a lot of attention and importance to. So, as a member of the audience, she'd be curious to know if these two different characters are going to crash into each other at some point, and those two parts of the Prophecy are going to connect.

The rest of the Ithlinne's Prophecy from the books, that's connected to Ciri, is:

"Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deireádh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of Elder Blood, of Hen Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but burst into flame. Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the signs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidhe, the Blood of Elves... May Ye All Wail, for the Destroyer of Nations is upon us. Your lands shall they trample and divide with rope. Your cities razed shall be, their dwellers expelled. The bat, owl and raven your homes shall infest, and the serpent will therein make its nest..."

She also said, in a Tudum Interview: "One of the things that we love about Sapkowski’s books is his attention to genes, to bloodlines, and to how families grow and develop."

And in Season 3, Jaskier keeps referring to Ciri, Geralt, and Yennefer as "his family".

They may not be related by blood, but they are still "family" to him, in the truest sense (like, I think, the Seven established a family-like bond).

And Jaskier is the one that brought them all together. "The Lark’s most precious note shall be the key to all things", and Jaskier does feel like he's the key to all things, at times.

He's just randomly traveling the Continent, unlocking people's destinies left and right, connecting with them, struggling with the thought of settling down.

He's also drawn to people that are "ever searching for love", and that feel "lost and left behind".

Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri... Radovid, even.

And, of course, the elves, that he became "The Sandpiper" to protect.

What I'm also wondering is if the part of the Ithlinne's Prophecy, at the end of "Blood Origin", was added at the same time that they chose to introduce Seanchai and change the role that Jaskier was initially meant to play in the spinoff.

Because it would appear that Seanchai's true form would be that of an ancient elf.

So, "Blood Origin" introduces us to two incredibly powerful ancient elves with the ability to cross time and dimensions.

Avalach, that shares a connection to Ciri in the books (I won't spoil it for those that haven't read it), and

2. Seanchai.

So, what if Seanchai was the child of Éile and Fjall? The Lark’s seed, that shall carry forth (throughout history) the first note of a song that ends all times?

And this is sort of what the show's creator had to say about her character:

It just sort of fitted so well in. When I was thinking about this idea with Seanchaí story collection, it was that moment where all the story about music, and story and words being more powerful than any army, sort of all felt less than [compared] to [having] it sort of personified in this sort of creature that’s raison d'être is to collect stories because they are so powerful. It was great. And the name Seanchaí actually comes from... It was a position in Ireland where you were a storyteller, and you went between the halls of kings, and you went to chieftains and people, and they were the most powerful people in the land and kings were fucking terrified of them – and queens – because one bad story would destroy you as a king. And they were far more worried about that than any army. And then bringing that back to life in this world, it just all clicked. It was one of those lovely synchronous moments of story.

Because the child of Fjall and the Lark is supposed to carry forth (not sing, carry) the first note of the song...

...and one of her blood shall sing the last note of that song.

And when Jaskier asks Seanchai "Why did you save me from the Temerians?", she answers "I need you to sing a story back to life. We're related you an I."

She then explains that he's a bard and she's a storyteller, of a sort...

But that's just the thing. A storyteller might be able to carry the notes of a song - for centuries, perhaps - but she would need a bard to actually sing it when the time was right.

And yeah... The idea that she meant a bit more than just "storytellers and bards have a lot in common" when she said "we're related, you and I", would be intriguing...

The problem, however, is that should it be Jaskier (regardless of him being related to Seanchai or not...), it would sort of make that part of the Ithlinne's Prophecy extremely literal. Almost too literal, one might say.

Not to mention that the way the scene is filmed really seems to be meant to heavily imply that it is Jaskier.

Because, when Seanchai says "...and one of her blood shall sing the last", we are pulled out of the past to the present, where Jaskier is seen writing the last words of a story.

And, when he tries to get her to elaborate on who she's referring to, the answer Jaskier gets is: "Sing the 'Song of the Seven', Sandpiper".

Then, when Jaskier looks back at the last page of the story he's just written, the camera zooms in on "...and one of her blood shall sing the last.", while it starts raining, some dramatic ominous music starts playing, and Jaskier is suddenly back to standing on the battlefield.

So, it feels like she's giving him the answer to his question by telling him to sing.

Then, Seanchai goes on, saying "...so the oppressed may find hope and strenght in the tale of their ancestors; and be ready for the great change to come;" and you see an elf come to squeeze Jaskier's shoulder to let him know the battle is won (at least, this one), and invite him to follow them.

And, even if the only way that Seanchai and Jaskier were "related" would be through their love for either collecting and preserving stories, and/or sharing those stories with the world, she still says that she needs him to sing a story back to life.

So, if you were a powerful ancient elf that actually knew who was meant to sing the very last note of a specific story, wouldn't you want to let them know how the story actually began, too?

Jaskier: I'm just a bard.

Seanchai: In her mind, going:

A bard with a blood marked by beast and magic, that felt an instant connection and deep sense of kinship towards a Witcher that everyone hated, feared, and called a "Butcher"...

A bard that brought said Witcher to Calanthe's banquet - where he prevented Duny's demise, and claimed his future daughter, the Elder Blood Princess, as his own.

A bard that brought the Witcher to Yennefer of Vengenberg, the sorceress that would come to love that child as her own daughter, too, and help protect and raise her, too.

A bard that feels intimately drawn to everyone on the Continent - men, women, elves, dwarves, even polymorphous, apparently... - regardless of race or creed, and would step in and risk his life to protect those being persecuted on the basis of being seen as "the other"...

A bard that embodies the complexity, beauty, and diversity of everyone's stories on the Continent, and feels like - if the muses stopped talking to him and inspiring him to write and sing those songs - he'd have no idea who he was anymore, and would no longer be able to do the one thing he was put on this Continent to do?

A bard that inspires people to grow, get involved, and ultimately become the better versions of themselves...

A bard, whose ancestors' fight against Balor lead to the Conjunction of the Spheres, the arrival of the humans on the Continent, of the monsters, the creation of the Witchers, and the beginning of a story that he'll witness and sing the conclusion of.

But yes, just a bard.

But yeah, it's like the show is pointing us so strongly in Jaskier's direction and wanting us so much to think it's him that it's almost suspicious or "too easy" to assume it's him.

What also makes me hesitate, in some ways, is that people would expect someone that's been described as having "a blood like no other, marked by beast and magic", to be exhibiting superhuman powers of some sort, and have powerful magic of their own, I suppose.

While Jaskier is very much human. But Seanchai (and the show runners, apparently) sees great power in the ability to shape the world through storytelling, and she makes it sound like she truly respects Jaskier's "power", and the way he's been using his voice to help change people's perception of outcasts.

Even "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher" was all about changing the way people irrationally feared and reviled witchers, and treated them as freaks.

Yes, he threw Filivandrel and the elves under the bus with that one!

No one's denying that, and I've always headcanoned that one of the reasons why he became the Sandpiper is because he realized he truly messed up with "Toss A Coin", and was attempting to take responsibility for his mistakes and right some of his wrongs.

But "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher" was still about changing people's perception of witchers, so that Geralt would be seen as a noble, brave, larger-than-life heroic protector that was also a friend you could just enjoy a pint with, rather than some unrelatable mutant freak without any emotion that one should fear and keep their distance from in general, unless they had an even more dangerous monster needing killing.

He tried helping one outcast, but sadly made things worse for others.

And we also have to remember that we're talking about a very young Jaskier that had been brought up in the human world until then, and likely didn't fully grasp nor understand how much damage humanity had done to the elder races. We're talking about someone with a fairly limited worldview that genuinely thought elves were just "hiding in their golden palaces" while humanity suffered until, like, seconds ago.

Filivandrel might have started shaking those perceptions, but I doubt it would have been enough to completely make him unlearn all the lies and prejudices he'd been taught, and fully realize that what had happened to Filivandrel wasn't the exception when it came to elves, but the norm.

Now, Jaskier knows and understands better. Back then? He still had things to learn. I guess my point is that, despite all of his flaws and shortcomings as a young bard, Jaskier was still using his voice in ways meant to help someone connect with, and be accepted by, the world.

He's always been highly empathetic, and likely to spontaneously side with those that needed to have a voice after having been cast aside.

And, should Jaskier be, indeed, the descendant of the very first Witcher, it does add a rather unique element to the way he immediately trusted that he'd be safe traveling with Geralt, and never instinctively feared who and what he was, regardless of the reputation he'd acquired after Blaviken.

Something in Jaskier's DNA would apparently be telling him that Witchers make perfectly suitable life companions!

And Fjall was kicked out of his clan when they found out he was having an affair with Princess Merwyn!

So, getting into trouble because you hid your sausage in the wrong royal pantry would be a family trait that would go back generations!

It can't be helped, really!

Éile was into Dog Clan people and Witchers.

Jaskier is into Wolf Clan people and Witchers.

Fjall was into Royals and Bards.

Jaskier is into Royals and Himself.

These three are obviously related!

"Song of the Seven" would be a part of Jaskier's own heritage, too. He'd be singing about the history of his own ancestors, and their very own "found family", rather than singing about a group of outcasts he has no intimate or personal connection to.

And, should Éile indeed be one of Jaskier's ancestors...

Well, she was called "The Lark"...

And Jaskier chose to call himself "The Sandpiper"...

It's actually what Seanchai replied when Jaskier asked "Are you sure you've got the right man for this?"

Something like "Of course I am. You're the Sandpiper. Smuggler of elves to safety."

Apparently, small sandpipers are also sometimes called "sand larks".

So...

If Jaskier was the one referred to in that part of that Prophecy, then the song would start with the Lark's seed... and end with a Sand Lark!

Then, there's Radovid...

Because, of course, out of Jaskier's entire repertoire, he would be drawn to that song the most!

A part of me can't help but think I'm just looking way too deep into this, and making connections that are probably extremely accidental, but still, I can't help but think it would be really cool if Jaskier did end up being the Continent's MVP, in a sense.

If the whole point of Blood Origin - beyond giving us some insight on how the first Witchers were created and why, the Conjunction of the Spheres, the humans arriving on the Continent, etc. - was to clearly establish bards/storytellers (namely Éile, Jaskier, Seanchai...) as being some of the most powerful beings of their world.

While some would probably find it anticlimactic that Ithlinne's Prophecy, in "Blood Origin", would simply be about a "humble human bard" that would have inherited Éile's gift for storytelling and singing - rather than some sort of primal power or something (due to their connection to the first Witcher) - I think it would be fitting.

Dijkstra & Philippa: We have control over Redania’s resources!

Radovid: I have a Sandpiper.

He's just like the Queen on the chessboard, fiercely protecting the King by messing up the other pieces' moves, hard to predict because he can take off in too many directions and in too many ways...

And everyone's also after him, trying to knock him down, because he just keeps fucking their game over!

Also, as it turns out, there were many more character posters this season! And Jaskier wasn't the only one without a "physical weapon" or object of some sort...

But my favorite's got to be Radovid. I mean Jaskier's standing there, taking everything in, hyper-alert and ready to do "something" about it.

And our poor sweetheart is just... standing there with his fur heavy blanket cloak, discreetly looking over his shoulder, looking half-curious about what's happening and half totally done with this shit, just about ready to pour himself yet another drink...

Story of his life!

#Jaskier #Radovid #Radskier #The Witcher #The Witcher: Blood Origin #My Posts #My Thoughts #My Stuff

[iridescent-petrichor]

inkpot gods

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Warnings: reader kills four people, a little graphic, reader and jaskier both get injured

Words: 5.3K

A/N: hi!! i rlly hope this fic like . makes sense?? it's four in the morning and i couldn't get this idea out of my mind but i hope the jumping around isn't too disorienting

Oh what, these? These aren't tears

It's just the rain that wasn't brave enough to fall

You tried to calm the tears streaming down your face when you heard Jaskier approaching, quickly wiping your eyes with the back of your hand when his footsteps stopped just beside you. Shifting your weight so you sat facing away from him, you blinked back the tears that continued to threaten to spill.

“There you are,” His voice was gentle, already noticing something was wrong. Despite his boisterous personality, he was always able to tell when to take a more tender spirit. “Everything alright?”

You nodded, still refusing to look at him knowing full well your eyes would give you away.

“Love,” Jaskier took a careful seat beside you, gingerly placing a hand on your knee. You couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at your lips from the pet name he used. Jaskier rarely called you by your own name, opting towards more poetic and affectionate names. While neither of you had taken the step towards anything official, it wasn’t hard to see how close the two of you had gotten.

“I’m fine.” You insisted, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.

“You don’t have to be, you know.” He said, staring at the view ahead of the both of you. Before you stood a wondrous mountain view, something worthy of one of Jaskier’s songs, especially with the sunset painting the sky with deep oranges and reds.

There was a beat of silence before Jaskier spoke again.

“Think of your tears as the rain.” Your brows furrowed, giving him a confused look. “Your tears are just the rain that wasn’t brave enough to fall.”

“Is this some piece from a song you’re writing?” You ask, wiping away the fresh tears that were now streaming down your face.

He laughed, moving his hand from your knee to rest over your shoulders. “I’m trying to say that there’s strength in crying.” Now risking a glance towards you, his eyes softened at the tears glistening in your eyes.

“I don’t feel very strong.” You responded, voice hoarse.

“But you are.” When you didn’t say anything, Jaskier pulled you closer, the comfort of his embrace making you sigh in relief. “You’re stronger than you know.

And what they hear isn't laughter after all

It's just your voice learning for once to stand up tall

Your laughter rang through the crowded tavern, music to Jaskier’s ears. He’d made some offhand comment about Geralt’s hair that you could no longer unsee, looking back at the witcher who had been grabbing a fresh ale before you turned back to the bard before you.

“Your laugh is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” Jaskier said, his voice so soft you felt your heart swell in your chest. He looked at you as if you held the stars in your eyes, the smile on his face was contagious.

“After all these exhausting days, it’s nice to laugh again.” You said, leaning back in your seat, visibly relaxing.

“It’s like a breath of fresh air. Like,” Jaskier sat forward, reaching to you to put his hands over yours. “There’s this cruel world that wants nothing more than to break us down, and in spite of it, we continue to laugh, we’re still grateful for the fortune we have!”

“In spite of everything we’ve gone through, we can still hole up in a tavern and I can listen to you play music until the sun sets.” You continued, his eyes lighting up at your words.

“Well, I have people to entertain, dear heart,” Jaskier said, grinning from ear to ear. “That does include you.” His thumb rubbed over your hand, a movement you weren’t entirely sure he was even aware of.

By the time Geralt had rejoined the table, your face hurt from how much you were smiling. Jaskier had a keen ability to keep your mood up even in the worst conditions. With his infectious laughter and poetic pep talks, you knew you always had a light in your life to keep you going.

And when the rain came down

When Jaskier found you laying in the mud, rain pouring down over the both of you, he screamed for Geralt louder than he’d ever screamed in his life. You were unconscious, the blood from a cut on your head running down your face, mixing with the rainwater.

Geralt was too far off from the group to defend them when a monster stumbled across the two of you. In your attempt to get it away from Jaskier, you ran off the beaten path deeper into the forest.

He lost you in the downpour, barely being able to see two feet in front of him. Despite the ever-present danger of the monster that had been there only moments ago, Jaskier stumbled blindly through the woods until he found you.

“Geralt!” His voice was hoarse from yelling, desperate for his friend to hear him.

Jaskier knew the importance of timing, and he used all his strength to pull you back to the path, barely registering Geralt’s thundering footsteps that grew louder by the second.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice went in one ear and out the other, with Jaskier continuing to bring your limp body through the woods, muttering pleas under his breath.

He only stopped when Geralt placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at the witcher with glassy eyes.

“You have to help her.” He begged, barely holding it together.

Without another word, Geralt bent down to pick you up, lifting you with ease. Jaskier trailed behind him, squinting to see ahead of him through the dense rain while Geralt brought you to a safe and dry location to fix you up.

Despite his outwardly calm demeanor, Geralt was moving quickly, trying to get through the forest to the inn you were all staying at for the night, glancing down at the blood running down your face every few seconds.

I made a vow out to the dark

Please let her live just one more day

For the first time in Jaskier’s life, he prayed.

He sat by your bedside, praying to any god that could hear him, anyone that was listening, to do something to help you.

You lay before him, a blanket covering you. Geralt was off on the other side of the room, concocting a potion that would help you. It was a delicate balance, and he was focused more than ever to create something that wouldn’t do more harm than good. The cut on your head was hastily cleaned and bandaged, but neither of them could tell what the extent of your injuries was.

“Please,” Jaskier whispered, eyes screwed shut with his hands clasped tightly in front of him. “Please just let her live. Just one more day, please, I’m begging you.”

On the other side of the room, Geralt raised the potion, holding it up to the light and swirling it around. The movement caused a faint glow in the bottle, and Geralt brought the potion back down in front of him, grabbing one final ingredient.

'Cause she is so much more than all her scars

And if she doesn't have the will

“She can’t die,” Jaskier muttered, voice breaking. “She can’t.”

“She won’t.” Geralt’s voice didn’t sound very certain. There was something in his tone that made Jaskier’s heart drop. After knowing the witcher for so many years he was able to deduce even the slightest changes in his attitude, and Jaskier could tell how worried Geralt was under his hardened exterior.

He finished mixing an herb into the potion, setting it to the side while Jaskier spoke.

“She’s endured so much, Geralt.” There was a faraway look in the bard’s eyes. “Everything she’s gone through; all her scars, all her pain… It can’t end here. It can’t be for nothing.”

“It’ll be okay.” Geralt crossed the room, standing in front of you. He knelt down, gently pulling your mouth open and pouring the potion down your throat.

“Is it working?” Jaskier asked when he set the empty bottle down. Nothing had happened yet, but Geralt let it slide seeing how nervous he was.

Still, the witcher said nothing, staring intently while the potion worked its magic. Your veins glowed a faint blue color for a moment before it died down, the silence between the two men was deafening.

But it seems the whole world does I'll stay because

I will be the man my father never was

As he stared down at you, the first person to make him feel comfortable with his emotions, he couldn’t help but think back to a moment between him and his father when he was a child. The tears on his face were long forgotten with the memory playing in the back of his mind.

“Julian!” His father’s booming voice echoed around the room as he looked down at his crying son. “Stop your whining, you need to man up! No child of mine will be caught sniveling like a little girl!”

Jaskier sniffled, wiping the tears from his eyes to no avail. He took a shuddering breath, hiding his face behind his hands. A broken lute sat before him, smashed by his father during an argument about where the boy’s future was going.

“Julian, now!” His father’s voice rang through his ears, and after a couple more moments, he was able to catch his breath, angrily swiping the tears out of his eyes.

He had barely managed to compose himself, long enough that his father lost interest, going off to find something else to be angry about.

Before he left the room, slamming the door on his way out, Jaskier could hear his father muttering about his worthless son. Still, he forced the tears back, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood to keep his sobs at bay.

When Jaskier looked at you, he remembered the first time he performed in front of you. The way you looked at him while he danced around the tavern was forever imprinted on his mind. There was so much adoration in your eyes, and you were smiling wider than he’d ever seen. Afterward, you’d told him how much you loved his singing, and he felt such a resurgence in confidence in his music that he hadn’t felt since he was very young.

And what you hear is not silence

It's just the trees waiting to hear what next you'll hum

On a quiet evening on the road, Jaskier had stopped strumming his lute. You noticed his shift in emotion, slowing to walk by his side. The three of you were traveling deep in the woods on your way to the next town with Geralt perched on Roach as per usual while you and Jaskier walked down the dirt path behind him.

“Why’d you stop?” You asked quietly, nudging the bard lightly to get his attention. He seemed lost in his thoughts, staring up at the night sky with a heavy sigh.

“It’s quiet.” He said, dropping his gaze to look around at the expanse of trees. The only other sound around you was Roach’s hooves hitting the ground. “I don’t want to disrupt that.”

“Oh Jask,” You could see a hint of a smile at the use of the nickname, something you picked up after his constant use of pet names towards you. “That’s not just silence.

He turned to you, slowing his walk with a look of confusion on his face.

“It’s the trees waiting to hear your next song.” You grinned, gesturing towards the open woods. “The world just wants to listen to your music.”

Jaskier laughed, his gaze falling to the ground.

“Please,” You persisted when he didn’t move to grab his lute. “I want to hear it.”

With a slight reluctance, Jaskier grabbed the lute he’d maneuvered over his shoulder, adjusting it in his hands. He began strumming the instrument, a soft tune echoing through the trees as he hummed the beginnings of his next ballad.

You couldn’t help the smile gracing your face, hanging on to every note he sang.

And what you see is not the dark

It's just the gods upturning inkpots

'Cause they know what you'll become

Not long after that evening, the three of you had set up camp not long after the sun had set, walking a few minutes off the dirt path to steer clear of other travelers.

Geralt was fast asleep not far from Roach, while you tried to relax in your own bedroll close to Jaskier’s.

It didn’t take long, however, to notice Jaskier sitting upright and staring out at the darkness around him, eyes darting around the woods as if he would miss something that would leap out and attack him. You frowned, scooting closer to him, apologizing quietly when he jumped at your movement. Stopping when your bedroll was touching his, you placed a careful hand on his shoulder, giving him a worried look you were sure he couldn’t see in the dark.

“You alright?”

He didn’t respond, still looking out into the empty night. “Do you hear that?”

You stopped for a moment, listening.

“No?”

He turned to you with a start, eyes wide with fear. “What if there’s something out there?”

“Then Geralt will handle it.” You nodded to the witcher a few feet from you, hand resting on his sword in his sleep.

Jaskier didn’t respond, but you could tell he was still on edge. An idea popped into your head, and you shifted in your seat, preparing to give the storyteller the gift he’d given you so often.

“The dark out there,” You pointed, watching him follow where your hand led. “It’s the gods upturning inkpots just for you.”

His brows furrowed, still looking out where you’d pointed.

“See, they know what an artist you’ll become. They’re giving you the proper materials.” You grinned when you saw him relax slightly, moving closer to you.

“The world, the gods, everyone can see what you’re going to become. I can see it, too.” Your voice was quiet, now, the moment becoming startlingly intimate.

“Can you, now?” Jaskier smirked, trying to ignore his increased heartbeat at the lack of distance between the two of you.

With an overconfident nod, you moved your hand over his shoulders. “Of course I can.”

And to those gods I will speak bluntly

We've an accord

If you ever touch or harm him

Your scream pierced the air when you saw a stray arrow flying through the air, striking Jaskier in the side. When you turned back to the bandit who sat atop his horse, bow still at the ready, your eyes darkened.

It didn’t take long to deal with him, reaching up to slice a dagger into his chest before he could reload his bow, barely paying him any mind as he slid off the horse, rushing to Jaskier’s side.

“Geralt!” Your voice carried through the air, praying it reached the witcher who wasn’t much further down the path.

Cursing under your breath, you ripped the cloth from your sleeve, pressing it onto his wound around the arrow to stop the bleeding.

The sight before you broke your heart into pieces, looking down at the bleeding bard. Someone who was once so vibrant, so loud and eccentric, rendered practically silent.

“Geralt!” You called again, voice cracking. Your hands were covered in blood, seeping through the fabric of your torn sleeve. The thought of it being Jaskier’s blood made you nauseous, but you persisted, shutting your eyes tightly and cursing again.

“I swear to you,” You muttered, opening your eyes just long enough to send a glare to the sky, addressing any god that could hear you. “If you allow him to die you will never know peace for as long as I live. You have to save him. You cannot let him die. You can’t.”

Please rest assured

That you might not fear a man

But to a woman by the end you'll kneel and plea

By the time Geralt reached your side, you were still hovering over Jaskier, the body of the bandit not far from either of you.

“The rest of his group are on their way, I can hear three more bandits.” He said, shifting his focus to Jaskier’s wound. “Deal with them, I’ll handle Jaskier.”

You nodded, standing shakily. “Don’t let him die.”

There was a fire in your eyes that stared deep into Geralt’s, and he knew there would be hell to pay if any more harm came to your bard. He unsheathed one of his swords, handing it off to you.

“Go.”

And with his word, you were off.

The three bandits barely stood a chance against you, your blood boiling with the fear of losing Jaskier and the anger of what had been done to him.

You gripped the sword tighter in your hands, seeing one of them approaching. He grinned when he made eye contact with you, unaware of how little life he had left.

By the time you were finished and making your way back to Geralt, the final man left was bleeding out off to the side of the path, propped against a tree with blood pouring from a deep gash on his leg.

“Please,” He begged, looking up at you as you passed. “I beg of you, save me.”

You looked down upon him, grimacing at the sight. His eyes were filled with hope when you approached him, Geralt’s sword still stuck inside the body of a bandit not far off.

It wasn’t until you picked up the axe just out of his reach that the hope faded from his eyes. He didn’t have enough time to beg once more for his life before you brought the axe down over his head, barely flinching when he went limp. You stepped away, pulling the sword out of the corpse that lay bloody in the grass and walking in the direction Geralt had gone.

When you finally found Geralt, who had laid Jaskier onto a bed, handling the wound as fast as he could, he looked up at you.

You gave him a blank stare, letting the sword fall from your hands with a loud clatter, walking to the other side of the room to work on a potion that might help Jaskier. The witcher knew without having to ask that the blood slashed across your face wasn’t your own. Once he gathered you were uninjured, he turned his focus back to the bard before him.

'Cause I'm more than what my mum told me to be

When you thought back to the man pleading for his life, you were reminded of what your mother had always told you when you were younger.

“Y/N,” Your mother sighed when she saw you enter the house covered in dirt, a wide smile on your face that slowly faded at her reaction. “Wash up immediately. It’s not ladylike.”

To avoid an argument, you quickly washed up, wiping the dirt from your face and putting on a clean pair of clothes.

“I wish you wouldn’t play in the woods so often.” She continued once you reappeared, gathering dinner for you and her.

“But it’s fun?” You were truly confused why she had such a problem with it, it’s not like dirt was permanent - you could wash it off any time.

“It’s not ladylike. It’s uncivilized.” Your brows furrowed.

“But then why are the other boys in town allowed to play in the dirt?” When the question left your mouth, the look on your mother’s face made you regret even asking.

“You will never have a respectable life if you continue down this road. You’ll never find a good man, and you’ll just be a hag living alone for the rest of your life.” She didn’t even have to raise her voice to get her point across, the sentence striking deep into your heart.

You sat in silence for a few seconds before you nodded, trying to push away the insecurity burying itself deep within you.

Looking down at Jaskier taking shallow breaths, you blinked back tears, handing Geralt the potion you’d made. With your anxiety steadily increasing, you watched Geralt pour the potion into the gaping wound.

“And now?” You asked, watching the magic cling to Jaskier. It looked similar to a web, pulling at the edges of the wound, working to close it.

“We wait,” Geralt said, leaving the room to give you privacy. He knew you weren’t going to leave Jaskier’s side anytime soon, so he retired to his own room to rest for the night.

He was right - you planted yourself in the seat beside the bed, eyeing the lute that lay on the floor, unscathed.

And I can hear her sing

Jaskier as he lay in bed, felt so far away from the world he was so used to. It was as if he was in a dreamlike state, but he could distantly make out the sound of his own lute. The first few notes caught his attention, strumming carefully.

It wasn’t until he heard your voice singing quietly that he felt some strength return to him. The sound of your singing was so faint and almost distorted that it felt like he was underwater, sinking further and further away from the land of the living. He could barely make out the words you were saying, but it felt so familiar all the same.

With a massive strain of effort, he pushed himself forward, trying with all his might to get back to you.

And I know she's giving up

With you still laying on the bed, the blue glow from Geralt’s potion long gone from your veins, Jaskier couldn’t help the anxiety building in his chest.

“She’s getting weaker,” Geralt said, and Jaskier swore he felt his heart tear into pieces.

Trying to push back his fear, Jaskier knelt by your bedside, taking your hand in his with the utmost care.

“Please, my love.”

You didn’t move, didn’t even flinch.

“I need you,” Jaskier’s voice cracked painfully, a tear rolling down his face when he blinked. “Please stay with me.”

And I don't know what to do, how to help her

How to bring her home

Jaskier, stuck in a dreamlike state, pushed through the feeling of being underwater with your voice just beyond his reach. He had used up all his strength and was now floating in limbo with nothing but your soft voice filling his senses.

The pain was too much that he’d begun to panic, worried he wouldn’t be able to make it home to you. He wanted nothing more than to wake up, to see you smile, to hear your laugh, to be able to hold you in his arms.

He wanted to tell you he loved you.

He needed to tell you he loved you.

When your voice broke, he realized you were crying.

It brought a newfound strength to his body, fighting harder than before to get out, to wake up.

To get to you.

And I can hear him break

You knew you weren’t awake, that you weren’t conscious. You could practically feel how close you were teetering on the line between life and death, trapped in a void-like limbo. Your whole body was numb, the feeling of floating disorienting you.

It was so quiet you almost missed it, but you perked up at the sound of Jaskier’s voice echoing around you. It was so faint you had to strain to listen, unable to make out the words he was saying.

Still, it brought you an odd source of comfort. Even so close to death, Jaskier was still right there, waiting for you. It was a reminder of what to fight for. Something - someone you knew you had to fight for.

You could hear the way his voice broke, and you forced yourself to push toward the source of the sound, knowing you needed to get back to Jaskier no matter what.

And he doesn't understand

Jaskier, doing everything he could to get back to you, was strengthened by hearing you muttering soothing words. You’d stopped singing at this point, instead telling him how he was going to be alright. How you’d make sure of it. How you weren’t going to let him die. Anyone listening would’ve thought you were confident in your words, but Jaskier could hear the way your voice shook almost imperceptibly, fighting back the fear in your heart.

He would never understand why you were so scared of the idea of losing him - you’d mentioned it before on other days when he’d had brushes with death and danger. You told him about how much you needed him, and he couldn’t understand why someone like him was so important to someone like you. He had always wondered why you cared so deeply for him, but it wasn’t something he wanted to take for granted.

So, pushing on, he forced himself to move forward, your voice echoing around him louder than ever.

And I wish that I could take his hand

But where I'm going is for me and me alone

Still trapped in limbo, you bit back the pain you felt, forcing yourself to move closer to Jaskier’s distant voice. You had barely started to make out what he was saying; he seemed to be talking to Geralt about your condition.

“Is it working? Geralt, is anything even happening?” He sounded angry, angrier than you’d ever heard him.

Geralt had responded, but he was so far away you could barely hear him.

“I cannot lose her!” You heard him yell. The pain in his voice pulled at your heartstrings.

Continuing forward, you wanted nothing more than to take his hand in yours and tell him everything was alright. That you were alright.

Though, you weren’t sure if that was true or not at this point.

Another part of you knew, as well, that this was a journey you had to survive on your own, especially if you wanted to see him again.

And I can hear her sing

Louder than ever now, Jaskier could hear your singing. It was a ballad of his that you always told him you loved. It warmed his heart that you knew it so well. You were strumming along on his lute - he remembered when he taught you how to play when the two of you had spare time, which you often did as Geralt was often alone getting coins for the group.

Every part of his body was in pain, but with every note you played and every word you sang, he knew he had to get back to you.

He continued, fighting his way toward the sound of your voice that echoed around him, trying to ignore the ache in his side with every movement.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier was still talking - he was always good at that. When your limbs felt like jello and every step took every ounce of your energy, you let yourself focus on his calming voice.

For a brief moment, you wondered what would happen if you didn’t make it back. You were so weak you almost let yourself sink back down, falling closer to the line between life and death when Jaskier caught your attention once more.

“Please, Geralt. Please save her. I need her, I can’t-” His voice broke harshly, and you knew nothing would stop you from getting back to the bard that had found himself in your heart.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier’s finger twitched, and he was starting to feel his surroundings once more, bit by bit. The void state he was in began to fill with color. Your voice was unwavering, now moving on to humming random tunes while you plucked the strings of his lute, unaware of how close Jaskier was to waking up.

He was still unable to force his eyes open, but he could feel the world around him a little better by the second.

The warmth of the blanket laid over him, the light wind from the open window beside him, it all started to creep back into his senses.

After all, you’d been trying so hard to bring him back, he might as well try to do his part.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

You made your way closer to where you could hear Jaskier, the desperation in his tone making you more determined than ever.

Ever so faintly, you swore you could feel someone grab your hand, so gently that you instantly knew it was him.

“My heart,” Jaskier whispered, the sound echoing into your soul. “Please wake up.”

The world around you started to fill your senses, so quickly that it was almost overwhelming.

Just as you began to come to, lightly squeezing Jaskier’s hand as a silent indication that you were there, the only thought in your mind was how there was no way in hell you were leaving Jaskier again.

If I don't make it back from where I've gone

Just know I loved you all along

Jaskier blinked awake, squinting at the sudden amount of light.

He barely had enough time to get his bearings before you wrapped your arms around him. He made a noise of surprise, blinking a couple more times before he realized what was going on. Still weak, he brought his arms up around you to return your embrace, letting himself relax in your arms.

“Y/N,” His voice was quiet, but you heard him clear as day, tightening your hold on him.

You finally pulled away, giving Jaskier a shaky smile, whispering a hello that made him grin. Quickly, you wiped the tears that had spilled from your eyes, his gaze softening.

“You’re alright,” You almost laughed, saying the words mostly for yourself than him.

(Loved you all along)

When you managed to open your eyes, Jaskier’s hand still firmly in yours, his breath hitched. He would later tell you it felt like the world slowed down around him the moment he saw your eyes open.

You tried to sit up in the bed before Jaskier hurriedly ushered you back down, not bothering to swipe at the tears from his eyes, too focused on your presence to even notice.

“Of course you were too stubborn to die.” He muttered with a wet laugh.

You barely nodded, still regaining your strength.

“Never scare me like that again, Y/N.” Jaskier’s voice lowered, suddenly very stern. “I can’t lose you. I really can’t.”

“I know, Jask.” He couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, hearing you say it with so much love that he could practically feel your adoration towards him.

Ever so gently, he pulled you into a warm hug, burying your head in his neck.

“I needed to get back to you.” You explained, voice muffled in Jaskier’s hold. “I wasn’t ready to leave you, not yet.”

Jaskier’s brows furrowed, though you hadn’t seen it.

“Why me?” The words came before he could stop them, and he regretted them for only a second when he felt you pull away only for you to maneuver yourself so your forehead was resting against his.

With Geralt long gone, wanting to give the two of you privacy to talk, you sat with him in the silence, comfortable in his presence in a way you could only be around him.

Breaking through the silence was a whispered confession, only to be heard by the both of you.

“I loved you all along.”

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #dandelion x reader #dandelion imagine

[podcastenthusiast]

Sometimes I listen to the Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace and as you do I think about Jaskier composing it at Kaer Morhen.

The first part of the song has this really soft, simple-sounding guitar (I dunno shit about music but it sounds like maybe 2-3 chords?) and his voice is quiet, tentative, a little sad. I imagine Jaskier with his new lute; he doesn't know yet if his burnt hands can still play like they used to. Honestly he's afraid to find out.

But he knows he has to sing to help the elves, the witchers, everyone. And he also knows that if he doesn't finish this particular song it's likely to tear him apart. For a while it hurts to strum even the simplest melody, which is only a little better than the numbness and weakness he'd feared. Still, anything more complex is impossible to play.

Yennefer reminds him that even with magic it will take time for his hands to heal (adding that she'll learn to play the damn lute herself if he doesn't fully recover). Ciri shows off her new fencing calluses with pride and that reminds him it will take time to develop his own again, too.

It does get better. Everything does. He sings, he heals, he plays the lute until his confidence returns. He tells the story of the Seven, of course. He tries, in his small way, to make things right.

It takes a long time but when he finally finishes the Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace, a song that's just for him and no one else, it feels like exorcising a spirit from his body.

Geralt--having overheard it because this is a witcher fortress full of witchers--looks at him like he's seeing Jaskier for the very first time.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the amazing devil #yenskier #but like you know he's gonna get with geralt too #the ships are subtle but there #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #not a fic just a concept #hi I'm back on my bullshit

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

i finally watched witcher season 2 (i know) and also finally listened to Ruin (i know 😭 neurodivergent brain doesnt like new content) and ive been thinking about how. i wish there was more of TAD in Jaskier’s songs. like, TAD’s lyrics are so creative and evocative and dramatic. theyre so human and so grand at the same time. and the songs written for Jaskier I feel like are a little commercial? a little predictable. i think Her Sweet Kiss is the one that seems the most like what i’d wish the rest of then were like.

if i remember right Joey is somewhat involved in the writing of Jaskier’s songs and i think MUSICALLY theyre very very pretty songs, but ive wondered if maybe the lyrics are simplified for Mass Consumption and that i wish they could be weirder. :p

As a fellow ND-Brain-Doesn't-Like-New-Content Individual, I toootally get it.

Also, I can see your point about the difference between TAD's music & Jaskier's music, and for me it brings up a kind of interesting point about the Commercial/Mass Consumption thing you mentioned, but not only as something between the show and it's audience, but rather... Jaskier and his own audience in the show?

I mean, Jaskier is a popular bard at this point, and it's his profession as well as his passion, so even though he bases his songs on what he witnesses/gets told about and there's passion behind his songs, he also focuses on what will be popular and reach big audiences (so he doesn't go back to getting bread chucked at him :D). I think it also ties in to him changing the story of Geralt's encounter with the elves in Toss A Coin because "Respect doesn't make history."; he picked what would give the ballad a more inspiring "hero" that would make it more popular than if he'd told the truth about the elves. He's a bard, so he follows his passion in making music, but as a professional bard, he does so while also making it marketable.

Anyway, uh... yeah. I got to thinking about how it could be a mass consumption sort of thing in canon and not just in relation to the irl audience and thought it was kinda interesting :D

#look at me answering asks #what is this late 2021 #answered #the witcher #the amazing devil #jaskier #joey batey

[colorfulandblack]

In honour of getting though Witcher season 3 I would like to share with you my thought process while watching this show, not that anyone asked. Can you tell Jaskier is my fav?

Season 1

Me, seeing Jaskier for the first time: a baby! Must protect, already fave.

Me throughout the season: How are you still alive? And how are you not aging?

Me still at season one going through social media: oh, so you don't like Jaskier, huh? Square up bitch cos I'm coming for your ass. Also why the hell is he called Dandelion? Jaskier is a buttercup not a dandelion? Dandelion would be so fucking funny though [image of Sid and last dandelion of season vivid in my mind]

Me still on season one: ok I know we NEED to normalise closeness between two male friends but that's definitely gay, right? Like Jaskier just readies such dumbass bisexual energy and he so clearly is in love with Geralt

Me, during the mountain scene: Bitch, bitch, bitch how dare you [actually insert the Jaskier HOW DARE YOU picture] actually stops watching the show for like a week

Season 2

Me, immediately at the beginning: where's Jaskier? Where's my man? My child? Where's that idiot?

Me, after I see Jaskier: what have they DONE to you? But the songs absolutely slaps (talking about the whore song that was so funny)

The apology scene: Nope, nope, sir that's the most half assed apology I've ever seen

Overall season two: yes, yes serious matters and Jaskier is a comic relief but could you just try to give him some more screen time like bitch he's trying his best, he risks his life, he does some good, he loves Ciri and Geralt just fucking appreciate him! I know it ain't about him but for being Geralts friend for so fucking long I think he deserves some appreciation for his accomplishments from others characters, even a little

Season 3

Sees trailer: "Dear friend.." ahaha that's for Jaskier for sure! [Sees a blur of him] oh thank god he's in here!

Me, after seeing Jaskier: oh, god oh no. Why, why, WHY?! WHO they fuck took the game design?! Put it back I say PUT IT BACK!!!

Me seeing Radowid: *squints as he praises Jaskier, clearly flirts with him and actually appreciates him UNLIKE SOME PEOPLE* I want to trust you but that would be a mistake

Me, throughout the season: ah, so you finally admit that Jaskier is in love with Geralt who somewhat patched things up with Yen so you give Jaskier a new love interest, who is a man [icarly interesting image]

(listen I loved them this season but it felt like a weird sudden jump in their relationship and idk, by this season rocked I just wished they included Jaskier more and if canonicaly were not getting Graskier then fucking give him some screen time as a part of a family! He's great with Ciri!)

Also that Valdo scene was fucking HILARIOUS

Me when, suprise, suprise Radowid did a backflip: I knew it, why am I surprised, I knew it. Jaskier why do you have a TYPE?!

Final thoughts: Jaskier fits perfectly into their witcher family dynamics just give him more screen time! Please! also very curious about Radowid redemption arc although I'm not ready to let go yet, and also may I add the music, fantastic, don't care if it's periodic or not Joey my man you killed it.

It's clear that Jaskier has a type for like unrequited/getting hurt type of love or the writers just love whumping him which like fine but then make it fucking seen like by others? It takes a fucking plot device character in SEASON 3 to see it? like give me some fucking comfort as well you assholes.

Also super weird that they went with the game design and gradually changed it simultaneously ageing Jaskier. I mean why now? He hasn't aged in like a decade and then he suddenly did? Just keep him immortal will you?

Idk it's chaotic lads cos I just finished it and I think I've seen season 1 most times and the rest kinda blurs together so

#the witcher #netflix witcher #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #jaskier witcher

[parvasilvi]

I'm at my parents place for the weekend and it's made me think of something Witcher related (yes I'm filtering everything through the Witcher since S3 dropped what of it)

My father and my brother are both very musical people. My father plays piano, my brother plays piano and guitar. We never have the radio or the TV on on the background, but when it's been quiet got too long one of them will play a little piano to fill the silence. And I'm just thinking...

The Witcher is a universe without internet, radio, cds, etc. The only music is live music. And your cities and towns and what have you will have plenty ambient sound (you're not telling me the houses have soundproofing, so you're gonna hear your fellow humans around plenty), but it's got to be pretty quiet travelling in the wilderness.

How jarring was it for Geralt to have Jaskier travel with him at first? The bard is always making music, he canonically creates instruments in prison, you can't tell me that even when he's not playing his lute he's not tapping out a rhythm or humming something under his breath. Sometimes they say or see something that reminds Jaskier of a song and he'll sing a sentence or two. And even when he does pick up his instrument, it's not even always a full song, sometimes he just wants to play a succession of pleasing chords on a loop while daydreaming by the fire.

Every inn they slept in always had live music; if there was already a performer there, Jaskier likes to listen en learn new songs for his repertoire, and if there isn't one yet even better, cause Jaskier loves to sing for his supper.

I'm just saying, how weird would the first weeks travelling without Jaskier be? Nothing but the crunch of hooves and the sound of birds, with nothing to break the monotony. Making camp in silence. Only crackling fire while tending his armour. No background music in bars or inns. Alone with his own thoughts at last, and no more music at all.

#the witcher

[initial-lime]

I love Joey batey, he makes absolutely incredible music I listen to the amazing devil almost constantly

But his performance as Jaskier in the witcher is just so either absolutely mid or completely jarring and it entirely lacks the charisma that dandilion naturally has.

I honestly don’t even think it has anything to do with his acting skills it’s entirely plausible that the writers just had no clue how to write jaskier

I’m just so tired of pretending that Netflix jaskier is good, he just isn’t he’s annoying at best.

Honestly this is just an overarching thing with the series characterizations they’re so???? Needlessly one dimensional it’s almost funny

Yennefer is absolutely bursting with rage every single moment, which I guess she’s somewhat angry in the books but show yennefer is a whole new level

Geralt is just??? So fucking unlikeable LMFAO all he does is sit around and be moody he barely even talks when in the books Id’t be a miracle if you ever got him to shut the hell up, I swear book Geralt is spitting poetry and life lessons every chance he gets, you could breathe in his direction and he’s be like “THIS REMIND ME OF-“

Ciri is so woeful the entire series, she just screams and is sad which i really hate because if you’ve been reading my word regurgitations about the witcher you’d know how much I love the “dumbass feral child” character trope

And jaskier/dandilion he’s just so, ugh

#the witcher #dandilion the witcher #jaskier #the witcher rant #the witcher netflix #the witcher show

[abeautifulblog]

Dude I am so excited for your very dubcon fic you have no idea. Mmm weird power dynamics and imbalances are my favourite food. Question though, is Jaskier still a bard in this universe or a former bard? Or has he been a handler his whole life. Curious about pre-Geralt Jaskier.

In the dubcon fic, Jaskier is like 22 -- he went to Oxenfurt and fell in love with music, and although he chose to enroll in the handler program at Kaer Morhen, he still has every intention of becoming a bard. Doing a term as a witcher-handler is actually a stepping stone to that goal, because if he completes his five-year term he gets a very generous payout that means he'll be financially independent from his father (...who does not support his bardic ambitions, and has been known to try to use money as leverage to dictate Jaskier's behavior).

Jaskier also chose to pursue the handler job because he was very taken with the romance of traveling the continent (on someone else's dime even! ;D) alongside a badass monster-slayer of legend. And, like in canon, he's hoping to use the ~adventures~ from his travels as fodder for launching his bardic career afterward.

Fic snippet, from when Jaskier is expounding on this to a Geralt who (because of Reasons) is following only about 30% of what he's saying:

“...but, ultimately, I'd reached my age of majority, and I had my freshly-minted Oxenfurt diploma in my hot little hands, which meant it was too late for her to threaten to cut off my tuition, so there was nothing she could actually do, beyond turning every supper until I left for Kaer Morhen into an interminable lecture.” He hums thoughtfully. “My father supported the idea though. He thinks doing a term at Kaer Morhen is a respectable stepping stone to a career in politics—which is not what I’m going to do with it, mind you, though don’t tell him that—but I’m pretty sure my mother’s taken to telling people I died.”

It��s a nice day; they’re getting a few stares as people notice Geralt’s swords, plural, and then do a double-take, but everyone’s too busy with their own affairs to kick up a fuss about a witcher in their town.

“And I’ll admit that Kaer Morhen, ah, didn’t exactly live up to expectations initially. I'd expected—well, actually, never mind, it doesn’t matter what I'd expected—but for a while there I was really starting to question the wisdom of that choice.”

Jaskier feels his good cheer falter briefly, but then he musters up a smile for Geralt, and it softens into something genuine when he sees how earnestly his witcher is following his story, or trying to.

Geralt doesn’t smile, but he’s making what Jaskier’s come to think of as his alert-and-happy listening face—it’s never clear how much he actually understands of what Jaskier’s saying, but Jaskier is pretty sure that he likes being talked to. It’s a nice change of pace, after a lifetime of people expressing the opinion that Jaskier’s company would be a lot more tolerable if he would just shut up sometimes.

“Well,” Jaskier says, reaching out to clap a hand on Geralt’s shoulder and giving it a brief squeeze. “I’m glad I stuck it out. Because otherwise we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

#witcher shit #fic snippet #THE VERY DUBCON ONE

[arabellaininterstellarboots]

In Your Debt

╰┈➤Pairing: Jaskier X OC

╰┈➤Requested: No

╰┈➤ Words: 905

╰┈➤ Summary: A young maid gets into trouble, luckily Jaskier is there to safe the day

╰┈➤ Genre: fluff, slight violence, cussing

The clouds outside hid the full moon, shielding the light he provided. It was eery dark outside. but that wasn't a problem for Mathilda. She was inside the bustling tavern. 

The tavern was filled with life this evening. A well known Bard named Jaskier was invited for tonight- well, he more or less invited himself. But the crowd of the tavern loved his music. He was a master at what he was doing. An angelic voice with an even better lute, and a eye candy for the ladies-and some men. 

Mathilda listened with one ear while she served ale and beer to the customers. Their thirst never seemed to go away, much to Mathilda’s annoyance. Especially one customer stood out. He was here since early noon, drinking away in the corner. At first, he was normal, occasionally asking for a refill, like a normal person, but the more he drank, the worse he got. He got clingy and aggressive, asking and telling her inappropriate things. 

“Do you ever fucking stop?” 

Mathilda bursted out. She had enough. The men around them looked toward the pair. 

“Oh now you answer?” He didn't catch the aggressive undertone in her voice, acting as he did before. “Just take your ale and leave the hell!” She shouted, pushing the pitcher across the counter. The drunken farmer didn't realise he was supposed to stop the jug, so it slithered across the counter, spilling its content over the farmers clothes and breaking once it made contact with the hard wooden floor.

The pitcher sprung into a million little pieces, making the floor look like it snowed. The farmer gasped at the cold liquid on him. “You whore!” He roared. 

By now the bard stopped playing, focusing his attention on the fighting pair.

“Now I’m the whore? You acted like a cheap man whore the whole evening. Suits you right. Now get out of here!” She yelled back, angrily brushing her hair out of her face. “Oh no, I will not!” In one swift move, the farmer picked up the biggest shard he could find and threw it at the young barmaid. 

Mathilda didn't react quickly enough, the shard pierced her arm like an arrow. She let out a horrifying scream at the sight of her arm and the pain she felt along with it. “Oi!” Another male voice said and the farmer turned around to the source of the voice and was met with a punch in his face. 

The bard shook off the blood that stuck to his fist now, kicking the unconscious farmer aside and making his way behind the counter to the injured barmaid.

“Hello there” he carefully said, gently taking one of her hands in his. “Hello” She answered, not looking up from her arm. “May I help you with that?” he asked, examining the wound. Mathilda wasn't able to form a sentence, so she just nodded.

Jaskier noticed her face getting paler by the second so he supported her by holding her unharmed arm and placing his other arm around her waist, guiding her out the tavern. 

He found Roach outside “The Dancing Goose”, the tavern he was suppose to play in, so he shouted for his friend.

“Geralt!” 

“Gerald where the fuck are you?!” 

Jaskier shouted louder the second time, feeling her weight drop more onto him.

He heard a grunt behind him. “Geralt, thank the gods!” he huffed and turned around with Mathilda, who was slowly loosing conisnous from the pain. 

“What did you do, Jaskier?”

“What did I- Geralt, I did absolutely nothing! Now help me!” He scoffed, repositioning the woman at his side. 

Gerald and Jaskier sat in their shared room, waiting for the woman on the bed to wake up. Mathilda stirred and with a jolt, she was sitting upright in the bed. 

“Woah there, calm your horses young lady!” Jaskier jumped up from the seat and walked towards her side, carefully crouching next to the bed. 

“What have you done?” She whispered, her eyes fixed on the cloth that was wrapped around her arm.

“Why does everyone instantly assume it’s my fault?”

Geralt let out an amused grunt and Jaskier glared at him. “You were attacked Lady. This man brought you to me to fix you up. You’re in his dept” Gerald explained before he left the room, calming Mathilda a little. 

“What's your name?” Jaskier asked. 

“Mathilda” she croaked , picking at the cloth. “Leave it there.” Jaskier took her hands in his. “My name is Jaskier, or Julien. Whatever you prefer”

“Julien” she tested his name on her lips, whispering. The bard smiled a little, his name from her lips sounded so right. “You’re the bard from the Tavern, right?” She looked up for the first time, at him, his soft blue eyes looking right back at hers.

His eyes were like passion on ice. A frozen lake in the most beautiful winter wonderland. His eyes looked like fire on ice, if you can imagine that. A certain passion burning in them.

Jaskier was starstruck. He never saw eyes like hers. She had all the colors. A ring of blue on the outside, melting into an emerald green that turned into a soft golden hazel color. Her lashes covered her eyes a bit, but he was still able to see her mysterious eyes. 

A soft “Thank you” rolled from her lips, while she still gazed at him.

“You’re very welcome.”

Jaskier found his new muse. He was certain of it.

#jaskier #jaskier fanfic #jaskier x oc #the witcher #gerald of rivia #jaskier the bard #jaskier the witcher

[titlemewickedwonderland]

Shift My World: Chapter 4 (The Witcher Fanfiction)

Summary: Shifting is all grand and dandy for those who believe in it. Does it work? Who knows! Some people say it does while others don't, perhaps it's just something in the mind. Olivia Watson found the truth behind it as she transfers herself into the world of The Witcher one night after a drunken movie night with her friends! Only she wasn't expecting to get stuck there and worse off...she didn't expect to love them as much as she did.

Prompt: In honor of Henry Cavill who no longer will be with us on The Witcher as Geralt of Rivia after season 3. I have decided to take my ongoing story from Wattpad to share with you guys!

Wonderland's Workshop

Previous

How long had it been since she first began to travel with these two? Did time move faster here than it did in real life? She could always ask how long it had been; days muddling together was not an uncommon occurrence for anyone having fun or so they say. She hated to think about it but she didn't know what timespan she came in on or how long it'd been from that pinpoint that she first met Geralt and Jaskier. Could have been weeks, months, hell could have been years and she would not have been any the wiser. Olivia poked at the stew in her bowl with the wooden spoon with an ever-growing crease of worry and contemplation on her face as she stared into her bowl as if it would somehow give her the answers. The vague sense of music and a familiar voice lilting a tune in the background could be heard but Olivia wasn't even paying attention to whatever it was Jaskier was playing tonight. She sat at the bar feeling as uncomfortable as an outsider in this tavern. Something just irked under her skin sitting there. It was not the looks the men gave her way as she sat there minding her own business; she was used to the staring by this point. It was not even the attempts of the tavern owner as he attempted to start a conversation with her. It was the fact that Geralt had left again muttering about a monster hunt but she knew better; her gut knew better as she thought it over fully. He wasn't going to go on a hunt. He just needed space. Whatever he had encountered in the city of Cintra that had gotten under his skin was bothering him for some reason. She didn't blame him. Poor man held so much stress on his shoulders enough as it was.  Olivia was just not fond of being thrown aside like that after all this time as a trio. Jaskier had no problem with it but granted he and Geralt had been together for a good span of 15+ years already before she ever came along. That much she'd gathered just listening and watching the two. 

"If you keep looking into that bowl of stew you might just  find what you're looking for." A teasing voice broke her deep focus and she looked up startled to find Jaskier sitting beside her with a mug of ale in his hands; taking a breather from his last musical set. She could see the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead that got some of his curls damp around his temples. Man, he did love his music.

She forced a smile and shook her head. "I was debating whether I'm hungry or not. Here, you can have it." she pushed the bowl over towards the man whose face turned a little sour as he looked at her. 

"Are you okay Beauty?" he asked tipping his head to look at her face better. 

"I'm fine...just, what day is it?" she asked looking over at him. 

Jaskier raised a brow as he replied stating as a matter of fact that it was Wednesday. Olivia shook her head and repeated her question. "I mean...like...I know this will sound weird but how long have I been with you and Geralt?" she asked looking at him intently. 

Jaskier looked back at her oddly. "Are you okay? Are you feeling well?" he rested his palm on her forehead to test her temperature and she dodged his hand with a scowl. 

"Jaskier I'm serious!" she protested firmly. 

The bard looked at her realizing that she was indeed serious. Something was on her mind and it was bothering her. So he cautiously lowered his hand and leaned on the tabletop to study her face. "It's been almost 4 years Beauty," he said carefully wondering what had gotten her so riled up.

4 years. 4 years in this place and she didn't even realize it. She gave a shaky smile and nodded her thanks before standing from the chair and heading out the door. Ignoring Jaskier's call of her name. 4 years here meant how many in the real world though? How did time work? Olivia had made it a point to try and remember exactly what she'd written in her manuscript in her drunken haze back home but she was coming up blank. If she remembered anything though; most of it was just drabble. Nothing of importance that had her fumbling around in here for. Had she put herself in any great events that would change history or was it something petty like a day in the life of Olivia traveling with Geralt and Jaskier? She couldn't remember and it was starting to send her into a spiral of madness just thinking about it because the more she spent time here the less she had the will to give time to find a way back home. The dark-haired woman found herself in the stables next door to the tavern. She reached out a hand to pet a dark nose of a curious head that peeked from its stall. 

"He seems to like you." a voice spoke up making her startle and spin around to find an ordinary stable boy no more than in his early 20s standing there with a pail in hand and a folded-up blanket tucked under his arm. 

"He's beautiful," Olivia replied giving a small smile as she returned her attention to the black stallion that was nosing at her as if searching for treats. "what's his name?" she asked.

"Thor." the boy replied stepping closer and setting the pail down. "He's a rescue of sorts. His owner got killed on the road by a monster and he'd run his way into town scared out of his wits. The tavern owner took him in as a workhorse to be able to get to and from places when needing supplies and stuff. He's a good horse." the boy explained as he busied himself with unlocking another stall door to another horse and going inside to dump the pail of feed into its trough. 

"I've always wanted a horse; I travel a lot with some friends of mine and we only have one horse that one friend is very fond of. He rarely lets either of us ride so we always walk." Olivia said starting idly conversation as she rubbed the white mark on Thor's forehead. 

"Heh, that doesn't sound like a very good friend. But horses are better companions than dogs I'd imagine; they never lead you astray. Say, if you want I'm sure the tavern owner wouldn't mind selling him to you if you wanted him. It'd be a win-win for you both. Plus, I swear that boy is just itching for an adventure. He doesn't come out of his stall much anymore. " the stable boy commented leaning against the stall door next to her. 

Olivia chuckled and shook her head. "As much as I'd love to. I don't have the money for him. Money is hard to come by nowadays." she sighed looking at the pretty creature. 

The stable boy didn't say anything at first but when he finally opened his mouth to say something there was a loud commotion next door in the tavern. Olivia's heart rate spiked and she bolted past the stable boy and straight for the tavern where the loud yelling and feminine screams could be heard. The scene in front of her was not something she was expecting. She expected something more like a rowdy patron. But what she was not expecting was swords and blades to be involved. It only took her a minute to realize what was going on. Three men were standing facing off with another man that held an elderly woman with an arm wrapped around her shoulders and a blade hovering over her throat. Olivia didn't know what this was all about but even those in crime movies and TV shows that she remembered watching taught her never to go straight into a hostage situation without knowing what was going on. 

Her first thought was to grab her dagger hidden in her boot; she never went anywhere without the dagger Geralt gave her. But she knew if she did that old lady would be dead. She was just about to step in when a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back; gods she never felt like punching someone in that second until her blue eyes fell onto Jaskier's familiar face. 

"What are you doing Olivia?!" he hissed. "Let those men handle this themselves. Let's just go," he demanded in a low voice looking as if he was about to drag her out.

This was their usual routine. Anytime taverns got rowdy he'd drag her out for both of their safety. But none of them previously had a hostage situation before and she would never forgive herself if someone died here today and she could have had the power to stop it. The look in her eyes and the set of her jaw made Jaskier groan in frustration seeing she would not leave this alone. Pulling her arm from his grasp Olivia turned back to the situation and took a breath to calm her nerves. Her eyes fell shut a little bit as she regained her composure. When they opened a look of a distressed woman was on her expression. Rushing past the three men who were trying to defuse the situation she rushed in with teary eyes. 

"Mama!" she cried clasping her hands to her chest. "Sir...please...I-I don't know what this is all about but please! Let my mother go!" she begged in a voice of a young woman who was in great distress and tears lingered at the edge of her vision for extra effect.

The older woman looked a little shocked at Olivia's appearance but the look she saw hinting at her over Olivia's shoulder from Jaskier clued her in quite quickly so she laid it on thick. Reached for Olivia as if to pull her close but the man holding her tugged her back.

"You aren't going anywhere old witch!" he hissed pressing the knife to her throat a little tighter much to the woman's panicked reaction.

Olivia swallowed and she looked between them. "Sir please...W-what happened? Please let me understand so I can fix this! Just please...don't hurt her!" she begged with hands clasped in a pleading look and she allowed a tear portraying fear to roll down her cheek. 

Olivia didn't see the eyeroll Jaskier gave at her performance but the man seemed to focus on her and hesitate. That was it. Olivia saw the slight hesitation which clued her in that the man was not drunk or oblivious to what was going on or what he was doing. He was not wanting to hurt her but he would if he had to in desperation. She could easily play on that. 

"Sir.Please. Could you tell me what happened so I can fix it?" her blue teary gaze turned into one of an innocent doe and she saw the rugged man's features soften a little bit before glancing down at the woman he held. 

"She tried to poison me!" he finally spat regaining his momentum after a period of thought. 

Olivia looked over at the woman who shook her head slightly. "I-I was not trying to poison you, sir! I was m-making you some tea for your illness! I-I saw you having a hard time breathing so I went to put in some herbs that could help you-"

"See! She's admitting to it!" the man interrupted. 

Olivia's jaw set slightly and she held her hands out to the man carefully still keeping those same doe eyes. "Sir, my mother was not trying to poison you. How do you think doctors make their tonics to make patients feel better? They use herbs; it's been used for generations across the continent." she said plaintively seeing the man's anger falter a little. 

"She should have asked you first before she put those herbs into your drink and she was wrong for that but she was not trying to poison you. So, please...if you could let her go..." Olivia's voice softened slightly seeing the knife begin to lower. 

Once the woman had the chance she darted away with tears in her eyes straight into the arms of the tavern owner who Olivia hadn't even noticed behind the counter. Good, the hostage was retracted. Now to fully diffuse the situation a little more. Turning her attention back to the man she waved off the other patrons with a hand while never looking away from the skittish individual. He did not need any more reason to react. Once the others reluctantly stepped back still watching on Olivia gave the man a reassuring smile; dropping the act of the distressed girl and stepping into the role of someone on the same page as himself as she reached out towards the man to grab the knife. Her fingers wrapped around the man's hand to grab his blade carefully from him but her touch snapped something in him and he blindly swung at her in a panic. She flung herself backward hitting something solid and unmoving; feeling an arm wrap around her shoulders from behind to steady her she looked up to stare at the tensed jaw of her witcher who stood behind her with a cloak flung over his head and shoulders. But even that cloak would not hide the tense jawline and flared up golden eyes from beneath that clearly stated his anger at what he just walked in on. '

"Time to go." Geralt spoke lowly as he let Olivia go and pushed her towards Jaskier who looked like he could finally breathe again and hugged the life out of her muttering about how she was such an idiot. 

"Geralt I can handle-" Olivia protested over Jaskier's shoulder but he did not even turn to look at her as the bard ushered her quickly from the tavern. 

"Let Geralt handle this. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Jaskier demanded once they stood out in the frosty night air trying to find some sort of injury on her. 

"Jaskier I'm fine!" Olivia snapped brushing him off and sighed pinching the bridge of her nose. "I swear I had it handled! Geralt didn't need to step in like that! That's probably why the man swung at him; because he saw Geralt behind me and felt threatened. God, if I ever get injured it's always on the accountability of that witcher and you!" Olivia burst. 

She regretted it immediately though as she saw the hurt look that cast over Jaskier's face. She opened her mouth to apologize but Geralt's voice broke from behind her. "Is that so? Well, what's stopping you from ridding yourself of that misfortune?" he stood with arms crossed behind her.

Olivia swallowed looking between the two. "Hey, it wasn't my choice to come out here with you guys okay? Jaskier sort of adopted me and-"

"Which was a mistake. You know how Jaskier gets so attached to people like a leech. But even after all these years together has it ever occurred that despite everything you'd done nothing for this group but cause unnecessary trouble!" Geralt growled lowly. 

Olivia stood there stunned thinking back to all the time she'd spent with them. He was right though. Besides the few years she'd run with them they truly didn't know her because she never even told them who she was. Where she grew up. She didn't even tell them about her two best friends. Not in truth and not in fake memories to appease them. They'd never asked her so she never even thought to tell them and instead she'd just tagged along with them getting lost in their antics. Just like Geralt said - like a leech. A laugh of irony escaped her lips as she felt the pang in her chest at the surprising feel of rejection but she nodded taking a step back from them; brows scrunching together in what could only be described as being torn as her lips pursed trying to stop their trembling.

"You're right Geralt. You are right," she said at last when she'd managed to find her voice. Jaskier opened his mouth to say something while reaching towards her as if to call her back but she held up a hand and stepped from his reach further causing the dagger to dig into her at the look of hurt on the man's face. "No, you two are absolutely right. Even after all these years, I've not told you a single thing about me. But has it ever crossed your mind to think perhaps it's because I can't? Perhaps my life is simply too complicated to tell you in ways you'd understand and where I come from isn't a place I'd like to return to or remember; that perhaps just maybe the only place I ever wanted to be and the only person I wanted to be was something different...someone I could finally allow to be happy while traveling with the pair of you. But you're right, all I ever have done is get into trouble or hurt you guys one way or another. You guys always have to come and save me..except for the times that I do have things handled like tonight but you are so fucking paranoid that you won't even give me a chance to show what I'm worth. Have you ever thought of that before Geralt, hmm? Just because you're so used to keeping me safe doesn't mean that you need to step into every situation that I get myself into. You tell me I need to learn to protect myself but you shut down every fucking chance I take to prove to you that I can." she blew out a breath and turned away; hands clutching at the fabric of her pants to stop herself from doing something she'd regret.

"I'm sorry I wasted your time," she muttered over her shoulder and stalked off.

"Olivia no! Hey come back, Geralt do something!" Jaskier protested standing there looking like he wanted to go after her but not wanting to leave Geralt. 

The witcher grunted and turned away. "We don't need her Jaskier. Let's go. We have pressing matters to attend to." he said walking over to Roach.

~

She sat there in the cold all night long. Listening to the howling wind and the faint sound of water trickling from the fountain she leaned on. She hadn't seen Geralt or Jaskier again after she'd left them outside of the tavern. Angry, hurt, but even more feeling guilty she realized that she truly had no purpose in this world and she needed to go back home. But no matter how hard she tried she could not remember much about her script. She had an idea though. She didn't know where this timeline was but Yennefer was out there somewhere and if there was hope she'd be able to help her Olivia would take it in a heartbeat. But that meant that she'd have to trust someone with the truth. God the truth sucked and she didn't even think Yennefer of Vendeburg would believe her. Or maybe she would. She proved to be a rather desperate character in the series. If Olivia could find a way to help Yennefer maybe the mage could help her in return. Olivia chose to leave just as the sun was making its way across town center in its morning glow; giving her just enough light to travel by. She headed towards the front of the town for the gates but before she could she heard herself being called. Not by her name of course but when she turned around she saw a small group coming towards her and she feared for a second when she noticed some of the men from the tavern before among them that they were going to beat her up or something but instead she saw them all sheepish faced and shy. Among them was the tavern owner and the woman from before; his wife it appeared to be. Behind them was the stable boy holding the reigns of a tacked up Thor. Olivia frowned and looked around at them warily. 

"Yes, can I help you? I'm in a bit of a hurry" she questioned waving a hand over her shoulder towards the gate.

"M-Miss we wanted to see you one last time before you left town. You see we wanted to thank you for helping last night. We have never seen anyone manage a situation like that. You were amazing back there!" one man began.

Olivia crossed her arms and raised a brow watching them. "It was nothing," she replied with a simple shrug. She wasn't going to advertise how she learned to do that but the group seemed avid in saying their peace. 

The tavern owner with his wife at his side stepped up and gave her a warm and kind smile full of gratitude. "But it was. My wife could have been killed by that man if you hadn't shown up and taken control. You will forever have our gratitude! We wanted to find a way to show our thanks when Rufan here mentioned your fondness for our horse last night so...we'd like you to take him as payment of thanks." the tavern keep said motioning for the stable hand Rufan to step forward and hold out the reigns to her.

Olivia looked surprised and shook her head holding her hands as if to protest. "There is no way I can simply take a horse from you guys like that without payment. I already told Rufan that much last night. I don't have money to-" she began but the tavern keep shook his head.

"There is no price greater then my wife's life that you could pay. Please take him! He will guide you where you go with sure footing." the man replied giving her a smile of thanks. 

Olivia hesitantly took the reigns and pressed her hand to the horse's nose before looking towards the group. "Thank you..." she said sincerely feeling a little overwhelmed with emotion as her eyes misted slightly

One of the men that stepped forward while holding out a bag to her with a sheepish smile. "I made this last night; I own a leather shop...I wanted to create something for you as thanks for saving the life of one of our beloved villagers so...here as thanks." the man said handing the bag to her. 

It was a leather satchel with some sort of markings in it that looked like it took a great deal of time to be made yet it was created in just one night. It was the type that could be clipped to the saddle and inside lay a small bag of coin, a wrapped package of bread, dried meat, and a flask of water. Olivia smiled down at it and looked up at them. 

"I appreciate it. More than you may know. Thank you." she repeated as she turned to clip the leather satchel to the saddle.

"Oh no dear! You are considered a hero to us you know. You will always be welcomed back at Raven's Nest Tavern." the elderly woman replied as she stepped up and unraveled something she'd been holding. She swung it over Olivia's shoulders and clipped the heavy cloak at her collarbone. 

The woman's face grew almost sad as she smiled and clasped Olivia's cheeks in her old hands like a loving grandmother before letting go and stepping off to the side. Olivia looked at them all feeling tears in her eyes at their kindness. Strangers being so generous and kind to a stranger like herself. She wanted to repay them somehow. 

"What are you're names so that I can come visit you guys again soon?" she asked instead knowing they would not allow her to pay them back. 

Voices murmured from all around and she laughed lightly. "Well thank you...I will return soon I promise! I am Olivia by the way..." she said. 

"Olivia the Sapphire Gem of Kaelkirk!" one of the man cheered. Olivia laughed at that nickname realizing that it would catch fire like one of Jaskier's songs throughout town. 

"Well, off you go to save another town girl! We will await your return." one of the men; Clavik said warmly waving her off.

The dark-haired woman laughed and allowed Rufan to help her onto Thor. Gathering the reigns she looked back at the group and waved before she urged her mount past the gates of the city of Kaelkirk. What a start to her journey. She had not expected a kind farewell departure after a shattering reality between her, the bard, and the witcher. But she figured if her story was to start somewhere she wouldn't have wanted it to start any other way. Clad in the warmth of the heavy cloak gifted by the elderly Miriam and sent with supervision by Nardum the leatherman, and well wishes of others Olivia felt confident in her journey towards her goal. She'd find Yennefer and convince her to help her remember what was hidden from her. So why did her heart feel heavier the farther she went away?

Chapter 5

#the witcher #the witcher geralt #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x ofc #geralt of rivia x ofc #geralt of rivia x oc #geralt x oc #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia x fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #titlemewickedwonderland #shift my world #henry cavill

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Regrets

Everyone does something or has done something that they regret. Even Geralt. He has plenty of memories that randomly rise to the surface of his mind late at night, and bob there, their bloated, decaying corpses reeking of regret and keeping him awake. His mind is a veritable swamp of regrets because when you live as long as a Witcher, you end up collecting quite a few.

Geralt can be almost asleep, and his brain will just go, "It's 2am, let's take a trip down memory lane!" And then it will go poke at one of the rotting corpses.

Tonight it picked the puffed up remains of his most recent debacle.

Geralt had made the mistake of getting into a fight with Yennefer. He and Jaskier were staying at her Manor, and he had been irritable. Contracts had been scarce, and he had been spreading the sh*t mood around with a shovel.

They got into an argument, and he'd said something to her that really rubbed her the wrong way. She'd stormed out.

Jaskier tried to talk to her, but she kept brushing him off. He knew it had something to do with Geralt. He and Yennefer had been at each other's throats for days, thanks to Geralt's bad mood.

Jaskier finally got Yennefer to talk to him, by kneeling right in front of her in the hallway and holding the hem of her skirt in his hands. He gave her his best Puppy Eyes.

Not the f***ing soft eyes...with the eyeliner... Fine.

Yennefer had told him the whole story.

Jaskier had taken offense. Oh h*ll to the no! Geralt had just crossed The Line. No one insulted Yen like that. That was his job! If Yennefer wasn't going to do anything about it, he would!

"Do you want me to handle it?"

"Like you would listen if I said no!"

Yennefer basically turned her feral Frienemy loose on Geralt. And she didn't even feel the least bit guilty.

Jaskier could be extremely annoying when he chose to be, and he was going to annoy the f**k out of Geralt on Yennefer's behalf.

He started out with the one thing that all introverts hate: Incessant talking.

He would sing all his best bawdy songs. Loudly.

He followed Geralt around, keeping up a constant stream of chatter.

Geralt, did you know music theory is similar to mathematics? Here, let me explain...

Geralt, has anyone ever told you that you need to get out more and push yourself out of your comfort zone?

Geralt, did I ever tell you about this one night I spent with the in-keeper's daughter!

Isn't the weather nice?

You need to cheer up! Stop being so serious!

Are you mad? You look mad...

He went with some good old-fashioned passive aggressiveness next.

He hung Geralt's clothes out to dry on the wash line in a way that their shadows spelled out the word 'tw*t'.

He followed Geralt around with his lute, making up songs documenting whatever it was that Geralt was doing at the moment, and randomly throwing in the highest pitched discordant notes he could and watching Geralt wince.

He would walk into Geralt's room and just stand there silently looking at him, then knock something over and walk out, leaving the door wide open.

He completely stopped talking to him after Geralt had told him to shut up. Geralt had been relieved at first, but grew more and more frustrated as Jaskier refused to talk to him. Jaskier went about his day, speaking not a word to Geralt, but happily conversing with Yennefer, who now appeared to be his best friend.

They sat together, talked together, and Jaskier would entertain her with jokes and stories, and songs. He would gently tease her, play-arguing with her like he always did, and would practically crawl into her lap, whining in that godsawful needy way that he knew would annoy Geralt.

Jaskier then mixed being deliberately obtuse. And oh, how fun that had been!

"No, I can't see if Yen is outside."

"Well, I mean, there is a wall in the way, Geralt."

"I don't see how getting up will make it easier to see through the wall, but I guess I'll give it a try."

"No, I still can't see through it."

Geralt's eye had started twitching.

Then he moved on to malicious compliance.

The look on Geralt's face after he'd told Jaskier to 'b*gger off", and Jaskier just started doing it right there in front of him! Geralt had never, in his life, regretted p*ssing off Yennefer more.

"Alright, I'll f***ing appologize to Yen!"

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #geraskier #geraskifer #geraskefer #yenskier #yennskier #yennaskier #yenneskier #regrets headcanon

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

O and X?

O - Choose a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

----------------------------------------------------------------------

O: WARNING: My taste in music is embarrassing.

So when I read the ask I was listening to this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ZTTnAG0sSk

But to go on with the ask, I'll shuffle my current Spotify playlist. I'll do 3 cause this is a shorter section.

Not Evil- (Tiffany Haddish, From the Lego Movie: The Second Part)

So, this is awkward, cause I have a fan music video that plays in my head for this for OFMD. Evil Stede Bonnet is my shit. In canon, he's oblivious and hurts those around him, but purposefully EVIL Stede? Candy to me. Obviously, Izzy's the only one that sees through this. Watching as everyone around him falls to Stede's seductions.

Coconuts-(Kim Petras)

*sigh* You already know. He's in my head, at all times. Izzy Hands. Booba, Honka Honka.

The Anthem of Mr. Dark - The Arcadian Wild

Edward fucking Teach. This whole song(just like Ed) is voice envy for me. Plus, just being unhappy with where you've ended up in life. But it's really playful, and soft, and hopeful. It's not sad like it should be. Radiates Ed vibes.

For non-OFMD choices, I have no idea about my first song. Maybe Benry from Half-Life Vr AI(A really niche internet comedy improv series).

Coconuts I'll push on Geralt(Witcher TV) or Cas(Supernatural) and Anthem goes to Jaskier(Also Witcher TV, but only the fandom Jaskier we've all agreed on)

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X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

TLDR: Loyal sidekicks who just need a hug, a warm blanket, and an ear to bitch into. That are often ignored by their wider fan base.

John Watson- Most adaptations of Sherlock Holmes. THE OG CHARACTER I OBSESSED OVER.

Watson, to me, defines if an adaptation is going to work. He's not a henchman meant to be there for Holmes' ego. Watson is his own fucked up guy, hell, do you think Holmes would keep someone around that was dull? My favorite fan work, Warlock Holmes, gives Watson a fascinating character arch that explores loyalty, addiction, grief, PTSD, masculinity, societal expectations, and ethics. I had a Holmes(all media types) faze from 2015- essentially now. It's what I read when I just feel like shit. Watson is just as batshit as Holmes in the original short stories. Willing to murder, hide evidence, and fight to protect Holmes. Baby.

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AGENT 99- Get Smart (1965–1969)

Deep cut. My family kept a box set of this show that they grew up with. This show was a James Bond parody series in the US in the 60s that really hasn't aged well.

Agent 99, the lady on the right, is a fucking delight and was one of my first tv crushes. The whole joke is 'The Simpsons' set up of a Dumb Husband and Smart Wife. But 99 is fucking amazing. Due to when this show was aired and general sexism, she's not able to just solve every case for 86(on the left). But the audience is meant to know that She's the one doing all the work. She is sarcastic and witty, and not afraid to stick up against 86's ego and hot an ahhhhhhh. It's supposed to play against the trope of the 'useless' woman in Bond media, but she gets just as much development as her partner. We also see them build up their relationship over the course of five seasons into a loving couple, and 86 knows he's the one who got lucky. When she opens up she's highly passionate and a huge fucking nerd. They're both dorks and I love them.

She's also always willing to get in danger for her fail husband. Don't get me started on the awful movie adaptation.

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Izzy Hands- Our Flag Means Death

You already know my thoughts if you've been following me for a while. The showrunner, writers, and actors all love this fuck up. He's a pleasure to write, and fuck, he's compelling. I know the magic of Izzy is how much we don't know, but I'll enjoy the ride while I'm here. It's not often that my favorite character is liked by the writers (Castiel, Supernatural), so I'm living for the welcoming community we've built online.

I want his gender, and that's okay! Please and thank you, with leather on top.

Special Mention: Jean Vicquemare- Disco Elysium. He and Izzy are the same sad man.

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Jaskier(Dandelion)- The Witcher(All Media Types)

*Look* I've only seen the two seasons of the show. Jaskier is barely in it and sidelined as much as humanly possible. With that, I've spent two years of my life reading as much fanfic with him as the main character as I could consume. He is my first case of gender envy and the reason I've been listening to The Amazing Devils for 3 years. Jaskier is who I think I am in a friend group, sarcastic, bitchy, and judgy.

I am fully aware that he shines in the books. The show fucked over every aspect of Geralt and Jaskier's friendship, and honestly, I would have read the books if OFMD didn't come out when it did. I prefer the idea of Jaskier I've built in my head. He's been there for years, he might as well stay. He is an immortal half-elf and is Ciri's beloved uncle/third parent. This mess of a show won't take that from me.

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Hanzo Shimada- Overwatch

Did he murder his brother over a family feud? Yeah, kinda. Is he the personification of an 'older sibling'? 100% Did Blizzard ignore a growing fanbase in 2016 and give us almost no lore about him beyond that? Yeah.

Just like with Jaskier, fan interpretation is what drives this fandom. He thrives as the fandoms emo bitch, and I like him so much.

Not a fandom I spend too much time in (besides now, where I spend most of my free time playing O2). But I always loved the general 'there are 50 ships in this fandom' vibe. (Also, throw Cassidy here, he deserves it)

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And Finally. My Queen.

Morrigan- Dragon Age (Spoilers Ahead for the video games Dragon Age: Origins, II, Inquisition)

If I was raised to be the 'spare', younger, body for an elven god mother, raised in a marsh, I would be just as socially fucked up as she is. She is a Bioware Tsundere, like most on this list, seems easy to read but complex once you crack that shell. Her story through the games is amazing and seeing her slowly learn the truth and accept who she is, is inspiring. Growing up I used to play as a male character just to romance her.

She doesn't need love to be happy in life. Just someone to support her in the bullshit that she's about to go through. Playing the game from a friend or lover's POV is rewarding (cough cough *Alistar*). When you do romance her, she's still sarcastic, insensitive, and herself. She doesn't see a reason to change for you (Alistar). She views love as stupid bullshit that will get you killed, and in this story, she's right!

If you fuck up in some story decisions, she still has agency and will leave you if her moral lines are crossed. Nowadays this is kinda common, but when I first played this game as a kid, I was afraid of doing the wrong thing and making my favorite character leave. My only issue is you can't romance her as a female Gray Warden. But Leliana is Bi in origins and is usually my first choice. She does a lot of shit I don't agree with though...

More Mentions:

Castiel. I'm done with Supernatural (years active 2019-2022). I might watch a 'Winchesters' episode if he's in it. But I've moved on. Love him, and will defend him, but that is behind me.

Phoenix Wright (Phoenix Wright). The embodiment of 'I'll get through this somehow'. He tries so hard to be something more than he is, before one day learning that living a happy life is enough.

Dorian (Dragon Age Inquisition)- Gender Envy. I love a sarcastic mage. Also, his coming out scene always makes me emotional. He's learning to be his own person in a strange new land and AHH.

@born-on-a-beach-teach  Thanks for the ask! I ask the same questions back at you!

#ofmd #overwatch 2 #the witcher #get smart #sherlock holmes doyle #hanzo shimada #izzy hands #Morrigan #John Watson #agent 99 #dragon age origins #dragon age inquisition #ask game