me, lazily overpainting something I started with into this fandom? yeah!!
(Also I said, let me quote "I’ll occasionally do a piece, I think." ajshhjjs)
Also, the first one was kinda softer, but blander. This one has Jaskier, probably snorting like a trumpet. Also b e a r d.
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Your wish is my command @greyduckgreygoose!
Bonus post-mountain version of ‘Lay Down Your Loyalties’
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This inktober prompt was out of a russian folktale about a tsarevich (prince) and the grey wolf, that helps him on various quests. At a point, the wolf finds the tsarevich killed and makes a raven bring him magical water to ressurect the tsarevich, I turned it into geraskier AU
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we’re probably not gonna get it, but i would LOVE to see geralt have a crisis when he realizes jaskier wasn’t that much older than ciri when he began following geralt around like a dreamy eyed duckling
“I LET A BABY FOLLOW ME ON HUNTS”
“Darling, I was 18. I was already-”
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Eskel: And what do you say when you want to express your feelings towards Jaskier?
Geralt: I love you against my better judgment.
Yennefer: And what do you say when Geralt comes to ask for your forgiveness?
Jaskier: I would leave and never speak to you again, but my attraction to toxic men makes me want to sleep with you instead
Yennefer: also, relatable
Yennefer: but still a big no
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A Witcher and his Bard 🐺🎶
This is a redraw from last year's inktober
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Oh hell yes
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Fluff 27 Geraskier
“why the hell is there glitter everywhere?”
"Jaskier," Geralt says, looking at the scene in front of him, Jaskier sitting cross legged on the floor, an arts and crafts disaster taking up most of the rug. Jaskier has the look of a man who has gone slightly feral, and has yellow paint smeared up one arm and across one cheek.
Jaskier looks at him, looks at the mess, then says "oh".
"Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?" Geralt asks, because Jaskier is shimmering as he moves, the afternoon sun catching his fucking eyelashes which boast a healthy smattering of the stuff.
"I wish I could give you a reasonable explanation," Jaskier says, and shrugs. "Would you believe the Poundland round the corner had a mystery crafts box, and, ah, well, you know. It's a pound. I thought I should check it out for when Ciri visits, you know, something to do with her."
Geralt's heart softens at that. He knows how hard Jaskier works with Ciri, so sure that she'll never accept him, even though she's loved him from the first day she met him. No amount of convincing from Geralt, Ciri or even a very reluctant Yennefer can change his mind.
"She'll love it," Geralt says, and ducks down so that he's eye level with Jaskier. "All this," Geralt gestures vaguely, not quite sure what to make of it, "she'll love it."
"Nah, I don't know, maybe? I should have, I don't know. There's the posh craft shop in town, I could get something better? Or maybe she'd like a day out? No, no, that's a bad idea. Oh Geralt, maybe you should just take her out this weekend? I'll - go to a coffee shop or something. You won't know I'm here."
"Jask," Geralt says simply, and awkwardly reaches for Jaskier's hand, slightly tacky with glue. "You know I'm not good at this. But Ciri loves you. I can promise you that."
Jaskier squirms, looking down at the rug, then back at Geralt.
"You think?" He asks.
"I know," Geralt says, certain. Ciri may be four years old, but she knows her own mind. She gets that from Yennefer, he's sure of it. There'd be no persuading her if she didn't like Jaskier.
"Geralt, am I being a fool?" Jaskier asks. "I just want everything to be perfect. I don't want her to think I'm trying to replace her mum or anything. I'm trying my best, but this is all new to me."
"You're doing everything right," Geralt says. "She loves you. I love you. Please stop worrying."
Jaskier laughs a little at that, because it's an impossible request. Geralt understands that.
"I could calm down a little I suppose. But she's your kid, you know? That matters to me."
Geralt thinks, careful because he wants to get his words right.
"I wouldn't be with you if you didn't care as much as you do," he says after a long moment. "Everything you do proves I made the right choice."
"Geralt," Jaskier says, and grins, and there his Jaskier is. Finally.
"Clear this mess up, hmm?" Geralt says and Jaskier looks affronted.
"This is art!" He says, but does look slightly rueful.
"I'll hang it on the fridge," Geralt says, and rolls his eyes. "And you call Ciri a child."
"Hey, rude," Jaskier says, "one day this will be worth millions."
"Which is why it's going on the fridge, and not in the bin," Geralt says, and stands, his knees protesting.
"Hey, come back here, I want kisses!" Jaskier sulks, but makes no effort to move.
No. Geralt has learnt that lesson the hard way.
"No kisses until you've showered at least twice," he says.
"One time, Geralt, that was one time Yennefer made fun of you! The glitter suited you!"
"Hmm," Geralt says, and turns away to hide a smile.
Half an hour later, Jaskier still hasn't showered, but he gets his kisses anyway, curled up on the couch around Geralt.
Geralt finds glitter on himself for days afterwards.
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jaskier: did you just... did you just cast a spell on me?
yennefer: you tell me. how do your lips feel
jaskier: i don't know, i guess a little bit--
jaskier and yennefer: chapped?
jaskier: holy shit
geralt: jaskier can you come here for a second
jaskier: JUST A MINUTE YENNEFER CHAPPED MY LIPS
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Jaskier is sleeping beside her.
Peacefully, she would say if she didn’t know better, and yet oh how deceiving the absence of the line between his eyebrows. Sometimes she wonders if he ever sleeps peacefully after they settled in that house, or if the soft mattress is a worse reminder of what once was, barely replacing the cold, damp tiles of the cell.
Sometimes she wonders what he slept like, before. Was the constant smile he still struggles to keep on his lips present even in sleep? Was his breathing so strained? Did he startle with the faintest noise just like he does now?
She wonders, she wonders. And, secretly, as though hesitant to admit it even to herself, she wishes she had been there to discover.
She couldn’t have, of course. And she doesn’t know which hurts more, being absent at his gentleness, or present in his sorrow.
He’s gentle now too, he really is. Loving. One’s core is not that easily broken and yet, they were so close, so terrifyingly close, that sometimes she catches a fleeting glance of a ghost darkening his stare, something distant as if he’s momentarily losing himself in an endless abyss of despair with no memory of where it started. He scares her. A faint smile curves her lips, bitter. At least they’re even in that.
Sometimes his fingers tremble when he strokes her hair, and she can hear the whimper trapped in his throat.
The same as now. He flinches, and with him her heart jumps out of her chest, as though running from anything she knows will follow. Ironic. Nightmares, she is used to them, indifferent even. But never used to watching them devour others. And oh, how strangely do they fit on him.
A low whine escapes his throat and he closes his eyes shut, fists clenching on the sheets, desperate as though for a long lost branch of salvation. He hides his face into the pillow, groans, and it rings so similar in her ears, so similar to what she heard when he was lying there, half-dead on the wet stones, curled to himself like a horrified child. She swallows as he whimpers now, as he drowns breathless cries in the pillow and cries and cries and cries and—
It’s nothing. A snap of fingers. So easy, like giving away the secrets of her world, and yet as his eyes fly open and that ghost is still there, hiding behind the tears flooding his eyes, she thinks, everyone, every single secret, she would give it to him if it was for not ever hearing these haunting cries ever again.
He jolts up, panting, looking around like a frantic, forever trapped in that damned cell. She sits up beside him, but doesn’t raise her hand, doesn’t touch him. As though afraid he’ll break, dissolve in front of her eyes like the smoke of a long lost hope for comfort. She doesn’t touch him, only whispers, “Jaskier, Jaskier,” a quiet call as if for help, as if by saving him from his sorrow she’ll also save herself. It works, it has to work. There’s no one else left to save her.
The moment Jaskier’s look settles on her, the moment his eyes light up and the ghost flies away, she hates to find herself proven wrong. He frowns, a familiar thing, shakes his head. “Where are…?”
Then she realizes. We, he wants to say. Like it’s mandatory, as though a sentence won’t make sense otherwise and, in her head, it doesn’t, not anymore. She feels her skin prickling.
A sigh. She misses when her stare threw daggers. The one she has now, the one reflected on his eyes, causes an unwelcomed lump to crawl up her throat. Now, she just looks at him, and that shared secret of surfacing comfort dances between them. “Home, Jaskier.”
His shoulders slump, then. Defeated, and yet how releasing the tension flying away from his chest. His lips form a smile as he looks around, no, a huff, humourless and still sincere, and somehow that’s enough. His voice is thick. “Home...” He turns at her again then and his eyes, beautiful blue under the moonlight, glisten with the tears she holds herself from spilling. Laughter, or rather a sob. “Home.”
His shoulders are shaking now and finally, finally she reaches out, holds his head in her hands and nods as he rests their foreheads together, tears flowing like rivers down his face. She finds herself smiling. “Home,” she repeats in a whisper as though to convince herself too of the realness of it, like a prayer to anyone who will listen, and still only Jaskier listening is enough.
He closes his eyes and cries, and this time she doesn’t mind, because this time she can hold him. She does. She kisses his forehead and he lets his head fall on her shoulder, shrinking as if as gentle hands embrace his sob-wrenched body, and he hugs back. And there, feet and tears tangled together, fitting in each other’s arms like they’re made to be there, she cries too.
She can only hope, and that makes her want to laugh. She was never one to hope. Still.
Maybe, if they cry a little longer, if they hug a little tighter, maybe it won’t hurt anymore.
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Since you were all so nice about my older watercolor pieces, and my hand is still not good - more old stuff / posts from the drafts!
I did witch!Jaskier last year, remembered halfway that Yennefer literally is a witch and stared in the distance for a second.
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Okay, you've heard of: emotionally constipated Geralt who is in love with jaskier but doesn't know to identify feelings because he hates himself.
But have you considered: emotionally constipated Jaskier who's confident and flirty with everyone he sees but gets nervous around Geralt because he's in love with him but doesn't know what real love feels like.
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With the Witcher official page putting these out I had to make one for our boy Jaskier
Featuring my shitty editing skills
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and I can't fucking WAIT
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i love the idea of jaskier just fully not registering geralt as scary. like it simply does not compute for him. from the very beginning we see that he can clock that “oh geralt is making Scary Face, good job, Geralt! good Scary Face!” without being like “oh Scary Face should intimidate me into stopping what I’m doing.”
sure, sometimes his eyes turn black, but that’s just a geralt thing. it happens.
jaskier, in a pub, fully sprawled across geralt’s lap after stealing his ale: “this man? frightening? i think not.”
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Geralt: *struggles with opening a jar*
Jaskier: Let me try?
Geralt: That's cute Jaskier, but there's no way in hell you can open it-
Jaskier: *taking the jar from geralt's hands and opening it easily*
Jaskier: there you go
Jaksier: you're welcome
Geralt: Hey, Eskel? Is it healthy to fantasize about your friend's biceps?
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Hi! I made a slutty halloween collab/exchange with my good friend Cedric (@/MarbledCummies over on twitter) in which we dress up Geralt and Jaskier in skimpy costumes.
Go to Cedric's twitter to check out Geralt! He looks incredible.
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Hi, I am easily distracted from actual work and yesterday was, well, a lot.
Could not resist to draw this since we did not get a Jaskier promo poster and Joeys pose on the new album cover is perfect.
I made a bearded version but I did not want the post to be too bloated so tell me if you wanna see that.
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