#the Valdo between them also helps

[rebrandedbard]

At long last, they are together ✨ ⚔️ 🎵

#muppets #my crafts #geraskier #my witcher art #I love the plausible deniability here with Jaskier's color scheme #my folks don't need to know these muppets on my shelf are BOTH from the witcher #the Valdo between them also helps #anyway I love my gay muppets #if only i was any good at actual puppeteering #ah well making them is fun enough and they're cute book guardians #watching over my books #btw only Jaskier gets cute lil paw pads because he's my specialest little guy lad

[kueble]

I’m Fully Charged (Ready to Go)

This was written for the @witcher-bows-and-arrows prompt: Proposition.

This is also the start of something I’ve wanted to do for some time now. I’m making a D/s modern AU to play around in.  It will start as friends with benefits, but you all know me, so that won’t last forever.

A lot of kinks are mentioned, but none of them are preformed, so I’m not tagging this post. Read the kinks below, please.

Mature, Warnings Kink Negotiation but no actual sex. Kinks mentioned: pitting, Cock warming, Feet, Slut shaming, Dirty talk, Breeding, Spanking, Collars, Biting, Lingerie, Praise kink. 2,800 Words

Geralt/Jaskier

---

Sometimes it’s absolutely maddening to sit in his room with his headphones on while he knows full well what Geralt is getting up to in his room.  They’ve been roommates ever since he and Yen finally got drunk and admitted they work better as friends, and Geralt never hid this side of him.  But knowing his best friend - who he happens to be helplessly in love with - is on the other side of the apartment fucking someone?  Sometimes that hurts.

It’s not like Jaskier has ever told Geralt how he feels, because they’re dreadfully incompatible.  Geralt has his normal job down at the shop, and then he comes home and hangs up his jumpsuit for…a paddle or leather or whatever he wears.  The thing is, as much as Jaskier knows Geralt is a dom with a few steady subs, he doesn’t actually know what they get up to.

Geralt doesn’t act ashamed of it, far from it, but he explained that anything he does with a partner is between the two of them.  It’s not his place to share what happens inside his bedroom, and Jaskier respects that.   Long gone are their college days where they would laugh and share crazy stories over Sunday morning diner breakfasts.  Jaskier would never begrudge him privacy, but he can’t help feeling jealous over what he’ll never have.

Because Jaskier can never be what Geralt wants, as pathetic as that is.  What dom wants a top?  Jaskier has bottomed in the past - mostly to please his partners - but he definitely prefers topping.  Not that it matters much these days, because his bedroom has been depressingly quiet ever since he and Valdo parted ways.  Apparently dating one man while in love with another isn’t the best foundation for a relationship.

He feels like he could switch for Geralt, but he wouldn’t like it.  A relationship built on completely changing something central to your sense of self isn’t going to last, and he desperately wants to spend the rest of his life with Geralt.  Though the best he can hope for is friends anyway, since Geralt has made it clear he won't be dating anytime soon.  As much as Jaskier gets along with Yen now, he kind of hates that she ruined that for him.

Jaskier sighs, hating this downward spiral of self-loathing.  He takes his headphones off and doesn’t hear anything, so he feels it’s safe to venture out and find a snack to cheer himself up.  It’s not like Geralt is ever super loud, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.  There is absolutely no way he could continue on if he knew exactly what Geralt sounds like when he comes.

And with that thought, he steps out of his room and immediately makes eye contact with Liam.  He’s sure he looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he manages a tiny wave before Liam awkwardly nods at him and hightails it out of the apartment.  Geralt is in his own doorway, the living room spread between them, and he frowns over at Jaskier.

Before he can duck back into his room, Geralt stomps over and moves into his space, leaning against the door frame like he owns it.  He studies Jaskier for a long moment before speaking.  “Why did you glare at poor Liam?  You’ve never been rude before.”

“I didn’t glare,” Jaskier argues, realizing he probably did.  “I was caught by surprise!  You know I don’t care about what you do with your subs!”

“Well ever since Valdo dumped you, you’ve been more and more weird about it,” Geralt points out.

“First off, I broke up with him.  And secondly, I am not weird about anything,” Jaskier says with a huff.  Geralt raises an eyebrow at him and he sighs before conceding, “Fine, maybe he broke up with me.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Geralt growls, stepping closer.  “We’ve never lied to each other.  Now what is your problem lately?”

“Fine! I’m jealous!” he shouts stupidly before rushing to cover up his admission.  “Because I can’t ever have what they have.  I can’t be a sub, can’t explore that, ok?  And I hate it.”  Yes, blame it on being curious.  Nothing suspicious here.  Plus it’s a half-truth, anyway.  He can’t ever be Geralt’s sub, and it’s eating him up alive.

“You…you want to try being submissive but you can’t?  Why not?  Did someone tell you that?  Because that’s a horrible thing to say. Everyone should be free to explore whatever they want, even if it doesn’t end up being something they love,” Geralt rushes out, all signs of a fight draining out of him in favor of his usual protectiveness.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says with a sigh.  “You know I prefer to top.  So it wouldn’t work out.  I’m simply not sub material.”

“You’re joking, right?  Plenty of subs top.  There’s a whole fucking name for it!  You might be a service top and just not know it.  Shit, we have to figure this out.  If you’re not being properly cared for, how can you ever be happy?” Geralt asks, and the way he pouts is enough to get Jaskier to agree to anything.  There’s a reason why Geralt is at his best when he’s seeing to someone else’s needs.  He was born for it, the self-sacrificing bastard.

“Oh,” Jaskier mumbles, blinking stupidly at him.  “No one told me, I just…I just figured I couldn’t?  But I could?  Maybe?  With the right person you’re saying?”

“Of course! I’ll help you,” Geralt offers, sending red flags up everywhere.   Jaskier’s brain wants him to stop this before it starts, because there’s no way he can explore this with Geralt and not let on that he’s completely in love with him, but his mouth moves too fast like it always does.

“I’d like that.”

“Awesome!  I mean, we’ve never been shy before, right?  Plenty of friends have sex and it doesn’t have to mean anything.  You know I don’t do relationships after Yen, anyway.  Too many things can go wrong.  We’ll just keep things simple and everything will be awesome!  We can have fun with it!” Geralt says, practically bouncing on his heels like a giant puppy.

“Of course!  You’ll always be my best friend, and nothing will change that,” Jaskier agrees, even though there are warning klaxons going off in his mind like he’s in some retro Star Trek episode.  There is absolutely no way this will end well.  But then Geralt slings an arm around him and starts babbling about how many friends he’s made through his lifestyle and how he can’t wait to introduce them all, and Jaskier realizes he wants this, especially if sex is all he’ll ever get.

He can do this.  Probably.  Maybe.

—

As Jaskier leans against the arm of the couch, looking over the top of his paper at where Geralt’s sitting in an armchair, he wonders is this real life?.  Because even two days ago, he never would have imagined he’d be here, reading over a list of his roommate’s preferred kinks.  Hell, he doesn’t even know what some of them are, but he’s trying not to let that show. There’s nothing a little confidence can’t overcome.

When Geralt came up to him yesterday and explained the whole process of listing and discussing what they’re into, he was a bit thrown by it.  Sure, he knew Geralt didn’t just find his subs while wandering around, eyeing up anyone who might look secretly kinky, but he hadn't anticipated needing to be so open about his own desires.  Sure, Geralt has walked in on a hook-up more than once, but it wasn’t like he was tied up or being spanked at the time.

There’s a small - maybe not so small - part of him that worries he won’t be enough for Geralt.  He’s spent the last decade or so being the perfect best friend and never once showing that he feels anything besides friendship for Geralt.  A lot of people are perfectly capable of doing the whole friends with benefits thing, and Jaskier desperately hopes he’s one of them.

All of a sudden, the silence seems so overwhelming that he simply has to open his mouth and spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Do you…are mine good?” Jaskier asks, throwing his confidence aside.  He also feels a stupid that his list is half as long as Geralt’s.  But Geralt nods sharply, flushing a little as he glances down at the sheet of paper in his hands.

“There are no good or bad kinks, but this is a lovely list,” Geralt tells him, and Jaskier feels an odd sort of pride over it.  “I have to admit I’m kind of surprised to see slut-shaming on the list, though.  You’ve never been shy about your exploits.”

“I really haven’t,” Jaskier agrees with a snort.  “Though the thought of being called out for it?  Being told I’m a slut?  It just appeals to me.  Sadly I’ve yet to find a partner who was into it.”

“Well I love talking filthy, and I’m happy to include some humiliation,” Geralt says with a wink.  Jaskier crosses his legs, nearly bouncing in his seat at how intimate this is.  He’s never just sat down and talked about things like this with his previous partners.  Sure, there’d been a lot of checking in and giving consent, but usually not until they were already in the bedroom.

“I have to admit that I’m not entirely aware of all of yours, though?” Jaskier says, pursing his lips as he re-reads the list.  Geralt has nearly twice as many kinks listed as he does, and some he’s never even heard of.

“Ask any questions you have, because the internet might not be the best place for info on some of these.  Google tends to bring up some weird shit,” Geralt tells him, laughing as Jaskier cringes at him.  He looks over the list Geralt’s has ticked off, scanning it as his pulse quickens.  He has no idea why reading sexual acts is getting him so worked up, but it’s probably because all he can think of is how they might do these things together and he’s been in love with Geralt for ages.

“Spitting?” he asks, tilting his head as he waits for the explanation.  Geralt flushes, chewing on his lip before answering.

“Yeah, basically just spitting?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.  “Some people like getting spat on, and I like spitting.   Could be in your mouth, on your body, on your hole.”

“You, uh, you’d spit on my hole?” Jaskier asks because he can’t think before he speaks.  Jesus Christ, this is going to ruin him.  Why did he think they could have a conversation like this without feeling awkward?  But then Geralt smiles warmly at him, and he remembers they’re never awkward with each other.  This will work because of who they are.   Geralt has seen him at his worst, and he’s still here.  What’s a little spit between friends?

“I know you’re not really into being penetrated, so it might not come to that, but yeah. I like spitting,” Geralt says with a shrug.  Jaskier has no clue how he’s so put together, but he supposes being in the lifestyle for so long makes you comfortable with anything.  He does have to admit that the thought of kneeling in front of Geralt and letting him spit into his mouth sounds fantastically filthy, and skin buzzes when he thinks about it.

“I could probably make a decent guess about breeding but…we’re both men so please explain it better?” Jaskier asks, biting his tongue to keep from looking too out of his element.  Most of his experiences with breeding have been hoping he doesn’t knock anyone up, so he’s not sure how that can be sexy.

“Yeah, you definitely can’t get me pregnant,” Geralt says with a chuckle.  “It’s more about the thought of it?  Some people like to pretend they can and just talk about knocking me up and breeding me until it takes.  Sometimes it goes hand-in-hand with comeplay, because things tend to get a bit messy.”

Jaskier thought about that for a long moment, pictured fucking Geralt and filling him up with load after load while telling him how good he would look all swollen and pregnant.  He’s unable to hold back the shiver that runs through him and clears his throat before saying, “Better, er, better marks that down as a yes for me as well.”  Geralt just beams at him.

“Again, not saying this list is final.  They’re more like suggestions.  Kinks can be explored, too.  You might want to try something out because you don’t know if you like it or not.  Sometimes people will try things their partner likes to make them happy.  Just because I’m not excited about a certain thing, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be willing to do it if you are.  Like feet?  Not my thing usually, but you put it down so I’m willing to play around with it,” Geralt says.  His face is steady, like he isn’t aware Jaskier is now picturing him sucking on his toes.  He takes a deep breath and looks at the paper again.

“Cock warming? Like…heating it up?  Wouldn’t that be up under temperature play?” Jaskier asks, knowing he’s probably wrong.

“No,” Geralt says with a soft laugh, “No, it’s when you just kneel down and hold someone’s cock in your mouth.  Not to suck them off or anything, just to hold it, keep it warm while they do something else.  Some subs enjoy it, because they can focus on just being a nice warm space for their dom.  Again, we don’t have to try everything on my list.  This is just to get to understand what we both might enjoy.  Nothing is a make it or break it kink for me.  The only thing that is non negotiable is aftercare.  I’m not going to let you leave until I’m sure you’re alright.”

“Well that seems reasonable.  So we uh, we seem to have a lot in common.  Like spanking, collars, biting, lingerie, and praise.   That’s good, right?  Seems like we could work it out?” Jaskier asks, proud of himself for being so brave.  One word from Geralt and this ends before it even starts.  He feels bad for not admitting he’s in love with the man, but Geralt was clear this is a no-strings kind of thing.   He’s been hiding his affection for years now, surely he can keep it a secret a little longer?

“Jaskier, you’re my best friend.  I would never turn you down.  Besides, who could be better to help you than me? We can easily keep things friendly and both get some fun out of it, too.  So yeah, as soon as you get your test results back we can start,” Geralt says with a smile.

“Of course!  Best friends who sometimes fuck.  Totally going to be the coolest thing ever!” Jaskier chirps, hoping his excitement hides his traitor of a heart.  Because if he can’t have all of Geralt?  He’ll take what he can.  He always has, hence their living situation.

“I should head out or I’ll be late to my weekly dinner with the boys, though.  We’re good here, yeah?” Geralt asks.  Jaskier completely forgot it was Thursday, and every week Geralt goes out for dinner with his brothers.  He’s tagged along a few times before, but prefers to let the boys have time to themselves.

“Yeah, get out of here.  I won’t wait up!” Jaskier says with a giggle.  Geralt seems to accept that and stands up to get ready.  Jaskier stays on the couch until he leaves, desperately trying not to think about how easily this could ruin everything between them.  He has to keep himself from showing how much he cares.  He just has to.

As soon as Geralt walks out the door, Jaskier shoves his pants down to his knees and palms himself through his briefs.  His cock is embarrassingly hard, and there’s already a wet spot on the front of the fabric.  He bucks up into his palm, grinding against it as tries and fails not to picture Geralt’s hand touching him instead.

He licks his hand before reaching in and wrapping it around himself.  He imagines what Geralt might make him do, what names he might call him, how tight his ass will feel when he finally gets to fuck him.  It’s over ridiculously fast, just a few rough strokes before he’s spilling over his own fist and making a mess of himself.

And as he sits there, panting and covered in his own come, he feels like that stupid dog meme.  This is fine.

---

NSFW Tags: @tothedesert @mayastormborn  @allinthebones @selectivegeekwithstandards @trickstermoose67 @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @larawrmonster @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @gryffinqueen-blog @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @lokibus @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @feral-jaskier @hayleynzlive @answrs @jaskierswolf @holymotherwolf @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @singerin @flawney @viking1919 @peanitbear @blues-tunes

If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!

#My fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt #jaskier #I'm Sweatin' Through All My Clothes #D/s au #modern au #the witcher #witcher valentines #witcher bows and arrows #bows and arrows 2 #dom geralt #sub jaskier

[endiness]

If anyone is interested, here are all of the spoilers and rumors so far about Radovid and Jaskier x Radovid and just everything relating to that. And also book!Radovid.

"Royal playboy and younger brother to King Vizimir, Radovid finds himself suddenly a man on the inside of the Redanian Intelligence. With his good looks and drunken charm, Radovid amazes with how incisive he can be in political affairs, but it’s all games until someone gets hurt."

Source: https://twitter.com/witchernetflix/status/1514605669667663872

~

Source: https://twitter.com/RedanianIntel/status/1669074435586834433

~

Episode 1: “Shaerrawedd” Meanwhile at the Redanian court, our bard Jaskier is involved in political plots and schemes, which leads him to his fateful meeting with Prince Radovid of Redania.

Episode 2: “Unbound” Back at the Redanian court, there’s still plotting, scheming and the development of Jaskier’s romance with Prince Radovid. The bard even sings a song to the prince.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2023/06/15/spoilers-the-witcher-season-3-vol-1-episode-guide/

~

Transcript of Radovid's audition scene with Jaskier:

Jaskier: It’s been years since I’ve seen the princess. Also, ……. If I could help… Radovid: It’s nice, but nothing like you chose. What I wouldn’t give to hear you play halfway as … on that one. Jaskier: Oh, a fan? And someone who understands true artistry? How the instrument and the artist can elevate each other. Radovid: Yes, two things of beauty, made to be together. Jaskier: Precisely! Radovid: So here’s a thought: this poor princess has enemies everywhere and truth be told our kingdom’s not a bad place. It’s cold in winter and humid in summer. The cuisine, however, spectacular. And my brother’s not bad as far as my likes are concerned. Redania may not be perfect, but it’s her least bad option. And if you came to Redania, you could be our royal troubadour. Otherwise we might have to listen to that reedy voice of Valdo Marx. Just think about it, would you? Jaskier: I would. Radovid: We should be going. [Suggestive] Unless you’d like to show me how you play your instrument.

* Note: I've changed the names to reflect the proper characters/locations.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2021/12/02/the-witcher-season-3-audition-tape-suggests-more-political-intrigue-involving-jaskier/

~

We know that this [audition] scene or a very close version of it made it into the show and that there are more moments of flirtation and chemistry between Radovid and Jaskier later on. The two men develop a romantic relationship over the course of the season. And later, Jaskier and Radovid finally kiss.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2023/05/24/yes-what-many-thought-about-the-witcher-jaskier-is-true/

~

“Jaskier falls in love,” Schmidt Hissrich reveals. “And it’s with a character who fans will know [and] continues showing up in the books. So what happens this season between them will have ripple effects for a very long time.”

Batey relished digging into Jaskier’s new love story. “He’s having his hot girl summer,” Batey jokes. “It’s been really rewarding to see [his love life] told in a very visual way. [We] ensured that these romances are told truthfully — and sensitively and carefully, without resorting to stereotypes… Hopefully we’ve created something that is special, a sapioromantic and sapiosexual [connection] that is as flawed as any other relationship in this show.”

One other element in Jaskier’s life may just complicate his newfound love. As he’s “falling into an uncle role” for Ciri alongside parental figures Geralt and Yennefer, Jaskier is also pulled into the political machinations of the Continent.  

“He’s certainly a man of many trades, but I’m not sure he’s inherently built to be a spy,” Batey says. “Yet he’s found himself in a time of war, in turmoil, and is trying to do his best to do something good.”

Source: https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/witcher-season-3-henry-cavill-interview

~

Joey Batey finally verified that his poet will indeed end up in a romantic entanglement with the new character. "Showrunner Lauren Schmidt Hissrich came to me long before we even saw some scripts and said, 'This is the direction we'd like to take Jaskier,'" Batey told SFX, calling the romance subplot "a more modern interpretation of the books." In a previous interview with Netflix's Tudum, Batey declared season 3 Jaskier's "hot girl summer," calling the romance "sapioromantic" (a term that refers to falling for someone's intellect regardless of gender) without actually citing the love interest character by name.

Speaking to SFX, Batey explained that he doesn't "think Jaskier really sees gender," but also implied that meeting Radovid throws the character for a loop from their very first encounter. "We see Radovid arriving," Batey said, and, "for the first time in a while, Jaskier can't work him out. That to him is the most intriguing prospect." He describes a moment of recognition between the pair: "You wear just as much of a mask as I do. I want to see who is going to lower their mask first."

Hissrich also spoke with the outlet, and explained that Jaskier's relationship with Radovid will be completely different than his connection with a character video game players will know, Vespula. "When we started in the writers' room this season, we had a question about Jaskier that was really fun to explore: Who is Jaskier when he is on his own, away from Geralt, Yen and Ciri?" Hissrich asked. "What that brought us to is Jaskier's first really serious relationship."

Hissrich continued: "We introduced a character from the books, Vespula — Jaskier's on-again-off-again lover, but then we used that dynamic to provide a contrast to what happens when Jaskier actually starts to have deeper feelings toward someone." That someone seems poised to be Radovid.

"My priority was ensuring it was done in a sensitive, caring way that avoided all kinds of stereotypes," he told SFX. "I was heavily involved in some of the script revisions in order to ensure a very safe, sexual, romantic connection with this person."

Source: https://www.slashfilm.com/1309204/the-witcher-joey-batey-confirms-jaskiers-romance-season-3/

~

Jaskier will be singing tunes here and there throughout the season. One of his sad love songs he will be singing to none other than his new love interest, Prince Radovid of Redania.

Source: https://redanianintelligence.com/2023/06/12/jaskier-song-lover-radovid-and-other-tunes-in-the-witcher-season-3/

~

Mentions of Radovid in the books:

Prince Radovid was a minor, Queen Hedwig had been devastated by the tragic death of her husband - the aristocracy, terrified, had become stupid, and was disunited and divided into factions.

— Baptism of Fire

“I know [Calante] had wedding plans for Ciri, to join her with young Tancred Thyssen of Kovir or perhaps to the Redanian prince, Radovid, I don’t know exactly.”

— The Tower of Swallows

'Long live His Holiness!' A few voices came from the crowd, obviously bribes. Novigrad's hierarch Cyrus Englekind Hemmelfart rose and blessed the people and the army with his outstretched hands, while irreverently covering Queen Hedwig and young Radovid with the skirts of his robe.

Nobody shouts, "Long live Radovid", thought the prince covered by the hierarch's fat ass. No one even looks at me. No one is screaming in honour of my mother. No one remembers my poor father. Even today, at a day of triumph, which he so richly deserved. After all, that's why he was murdered.

He felt a gaze on his neck. Delicate like someone he did not know - or knew, but only in his dreams. Something that was soft like a brush of a woman's warm lips. He turned his head. He discovered the dark unfathomable eyes of Philippa Eilhart fixed on him.

Wait, thought the prince, looking away. Just wait.

No one could predict or guess then that this boy of thirteen years, which at that time was a person without any relevance in a country ruled by the Regency Council and by Dijkstra, would become king. A king who, after he paid all the insults that had been given to his mother and him, would go down in history with the name Radovid the Stern.

— Lady of the Lake

#radovid #jaskier #jaskier x radovid #radskier #the witcher #!txt: the witcher #the witcher spoilers #updated: 6/15

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I'd love to hear more about Not a Soulmate AU

Not a Soulmate AU is a Geraskier fic where most people are born with soulmarks the color of their soulmate's eyes on their face. Jaskier is one of the very few born without a soulmark, which makes his aspirations of becoming a bard challenging. People don't take him seriously when he sings about love and romance, since the cultural perception is that love between soulmates is the only kind of True Love.

And then he meets Geralt, the first person he's ever met who also doesn't have a soulmark. (Most witchers do have soulmarks; Geralt is an outlier.) The fic is kind of stalled at this point, because I wrote the first 5K words in a rush, got to the point where Jaskier and Geralt meet, and realized that I hadn't actually figured out a plot yet. I know I want Jaskier to kind of desperately imprint on Geralt at first, since he thinks this might be his only chance at True Love, before he grows up a bit and gets to know Geralt as a person, rather than an ideal. I just haven't figured out how they get to that point yet or how long it will take.

Snip under the cut, since it's kind of long.

“Had this composition been handed to me by any other student, I would think I was looking at the work of the greatest bard of the decade.”

The warm little glow of pride in Jaskier’s belly is doused as surely as the time Valdo woke him by dumping ice water on his head. “What?”

Professor Weiss puts aside the parchment. “Julian, you must understand. People don’t just want a pretty song, they want to feel something when they hear music. Love, lust, anger, sadness. No one will listen to a bard with no soulmark sing about romance and believe a word he’s singing.”

“I can sing about romance.” It’s a child’s protest, Jaskier knows, as useless as when he promised Priscilla that he really did love her, that his lack of soulmark meant nothing compared to what he felt for her.

The old man sighs and shakes his head, pale blue eyes filled with pity. “Perhaps, but the people of the Continent won’t see it that way.“

Jaskier opens his mouth, remembers that he has months to go until graduation, then closes it.

“You still have options,” Professor Weiss says kindly. Honestly, Jaskier would prefer if he were a bastard about it. “Professor Andersen is searching for a new teaching assistant. I’d be happy to recommend you. Many talented songwriters make good coin writing songs for other bards to perform.”

“No.” Jaskier’s hand twitches towards his composition, like he can shield it from the very suggestion. The thought of those words—all the grief and loneliness and longing—being sung by another bard makes him feel nauseous.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Professor Weiss says. “But no court on the Continent will employ a bard without a soulmark. I’m sure you know better than anyone that those without soulmarks make people… uneasy.”

“Then I won’t sing at a court.” Jaskier feels angry tears prickling the corners of his eyes. “I’ll travel the Continent, sing for the common folk.”

The professor heaves a sigh. “And you’ll consign yourself to a life of hungry, cold nights.”

Jaskier doesn’t want to sit here anymore and listen to this, especially when he can’t help but fear that the old man is right. “Thank you for the advice, professor. If I may go?”

Professor Weiss nods his permission.

Jaskier makes it two steps towards the door before the professor says, “Julian?”

Jaskier turns, swallowing back the bitter taste in his mouth. “Yes, professor?”

“I’ve taught at Oxenfurt for nearly fifty years,” Professor Weiss says. “In that time, I’ve seen six students without soulmarks pass through the bardic college. Their names were Agata Snyder, Simon Ludvic, Kristoph Meyerhoff, Mikhail Johansen, Lydia Kovac, and Gregor Friedrich. Have you heard of any of them?”

Jaskier shakes his head.

“That’s because not a single one of them made it as a bard. Lydia took orders at the Temple of Melitele and Kristoph had a somewhat successful career writing songs for other bards. The others tried their hands at being bards. None made it. Most went out on the road and were never heard from again.”

Jaskier swallows hard. “That won’t be me.”

He can tell from the look on Professor Weiss’ face that the old man doesn’t believe him. “I genuinely hope that’s true, Julian."

Ask me about my WIPs!

#the witcher #geraskier #ask games #ghost's writing

[magic-multicolored-miracle]

The Witcher S3 Ep4: The Invitation AKA I Was Definitely Not Prepared

There were moments where I had to fully pause the show and collect myself. Because I knew I only have 2 episodes left and there were a lot of things that hadn't happened yet. But I still wasn't expecting them to happen all at once or send me on that wild emotion rollercoaster

Is Emperor CreepyDad just like this with everyone? Just stolling into Cahir's room while he sleeps and eating his food. Boundaries dude.

Aww, Cahir actually cared about Fringilla? That's sweet. And misguided cus she didn't give two fucks about him

Also, Cahir's been back in the good graces for at least a day. Can't we get him some time to clean up? Greasy hair and a dust-stained shirt aren't exactly courtier attire...

Aww, poor dear is having a crisis of faith. You shut the fuck up with your shitty advice CreepyDad. He needs guidance and help

Excuse you Artorius. Yennefer is a gift and you should be grateful. What, pray tell, have you fucking done lately to fix anything, besides sit around moaning about it all with Stregobitch?

"No more secrets" is a tough, possibly impossible, ask.

Also I hate that it's still The Brotherhood when at least half of them are women. And this weird vote by banging, which is new?

You would know all about that, wouldn't you Geralt?

Those are some dramatic-ass invites. I respect it

She's right Yen. You are good at this stuff

Triss is right to mistrust, but I'm worried for her investigating

Triss and Istredd? Not a pair I would have thought (and I suppose technically it's pair the spares) but it actually makes a load of sense, romantically or otherwise. I'm here for it

That's an interesting theory. A wrong one most likely, but interesting. And might put you in the right direction at least

Ooh here we go. This is The Episode. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I'm so ready

Don't forget, Ciri's granddad was from Skellige. She knows the sea (I almost did)

Jaskier's little perched pose and expression. He is loving this, and subtly egging the pocket-sized princess on

Hold on, I gotta put everything down and prepare myself. The moment I've dreaded and been waiting for...

He comes with backup singers?! Why didn't we collectively think of that? Of course he does!

His troupe are all much prettier than him

Are we still doing this between the two of you, Yen? It's just very strange and bordering on petty in a way you aren't usually

Oh right. I forgot the Queen of Redania was assassinated by "Nilfgaard"

Of course you and Sabrina knock boots and get along. You're both egotistical bitches who I want to like (but at least in her case I just can't. You still have your chance)

Vengeance, not scorn. Justice and Vengeance are two sides of the same coin.

Aww. Proud Dad

As much as I know this is important, I really want to know what any of Vizimir's half-comments in the background mean/the context where they make any sense

Hah! Outplayed the spies, nicely done Yen

These dramatic fucks. I think the whole band is "Valdo Marx" like Bon Jovi. That's what I'm going to run with.

Maybe listen to the professionals next time, Boris

Looks like all that obstacle-coursing with Lambert and Coén paid off

What and who the fuck was that? Because I am going to personally fight them

They got what they wanted from her though, in a way. Ciri's location is "with Geralt"

"Be careful who you trust" she says in front of the snakiest witch they know 🙄 I thought you were supposed be smart, Triss

Oh Ciri, you and your moral compass

Fringilla looks good with this vibe and crowd. Happy and free works for her

How is the bartender not noticing this?

Why are boats the interesting part?

Aww bonding time! I love Jaskier and his goddaughter/niece mocking her parents. 😂

And that they've finally reunited, but I do kinda want to know what was actually said to lead to that "sag into a hug" moment

Oh Jaskier, surely someone warned you about playing games of luck or strategy against Cirilla of Cintra, an absolute shark in the streets of her youth

Aww. Jaskier 🥺 that was really sweet. And probably exactly what she needed to hear. And then topped with a lullaby? I can't

Radovid, what are you doing?

The fact that Jaskier knows he's not a fighter, but is fully ready to throw himself into danger to keep it from Ciri, even for an extra moment. And risk his prized possession as a weapon. 🥺💖

Oh. Oh! I didn't realize this would be in the same episode! Oh god! I'm not prepared for Emotions!

"The only good part of this mess was meeting you." Bitch you can't just say something so gut-punching like that.

🥺😭😍🥺 the gifs were nowhere near enough for this. I need it seared into my brain. The emotion in their voices, and in their eyes, the desperation and terror in their breaths. It's all...perfectly heartwrenching.

I believe now, more than ever, that this is going to hurt Jaskier in some way, and that is going to break me. I would almost rather the strike against the show for "Bury Your Gays" and killing the Princeling than have him betray Jaskier

Careful Dara, speaking up apparently is a good way to get permenantly silenced around here

She's not wrong Cahir...you have proven fairly unreliable

What's the mission? Why won't you tell us?

Reinforcements? Are Philippa and Dijkstra planning to attack the Conclave? And if it's taking their messenger 2 days to get there, how are they getting back by first dawn? Not that they're getting there at all now, but I want the deets of what the plan was so I can decide how stupid it might have been

I support Geralt's plan. We just stab the shit out of Stregobitch until he stops smirking, or wasting oxygen

What the hell is Philippa wearing? And Triss's hair...

Ooh I love these parallel pairs plotting. But it makes me think Stregobor also has a second. It might just be Artorius but...I have my doubts

What is Tissaia unsure of? Not the conclave she's been so passionately backing, right? But what else is there?

Yen looks gorgeous, and I like that it's drawing from Anya's heritage with her hair but I don't know if I actually like her outfit. It feels out of sync somehow

Holy cliffhanger Batman

#Shye watches The Witcher #semi-liveblogging #The Witcher season 3 #The Witcher season 3 spoilers #Netflix The Witcher #ugh. the episode ends on a proper cliffhanger #and I have work tomorrow so I am already up past bedtime #I don't wanna wait :(

[all-hail-the-witcher]

geralt ramsey

I've been screaming about this with @toss-a-coin-to-your-lesbian and @toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account for like days so you've heard of chef!geralt, now get ready for geralt ramsey because I've been watching way too much hells kitchen and kitchen nightmares

-so geralts a witcher. been alive since like the middle ages.

-but the monsters got few and far between and he dabbled in some careers before going to culinary school

-jaskiers especially surprised that he's good at it cause he remembers geralts tasteless campfire rabbit from 1238 thank you Very much

-also no one knows how old he is

-someone asked him on twitter once

-he said “852″

-everyone thought he was joking

-but anyway geralt somehow becomes this Really Good Chef

-hosts hells kitchen, masterchef, masterchef kids, kitchen nightmares, all of them and owns all the restaurants has his fancy lil michelin stars okay he's Good

-everyones scared of him

-he wears his hair in a bun, pen behind the ear

-arms crossed, usually scowling 

-wears a black jacket instead of chefs whites cause jaskier says it makes his “hair pop”

-intimidating To The Max

-but he's secretly the biggest softie

-but no one really knows it

-cause if you undercook his scallops? oh man you're gonna get it

-jaskier kinda thinks its hot

-speaking of jaskier

-hes one of the hosts on great british baking show

-valdo marx is the other

-No One Knows That Jaskier And Geralt Are Together Much Less Married

-jaskier makes them get married in a new place every time it becomes legal there

-geralt hates it but he puts up with it cause it makes jaskier happy

-but anyway

-no one knows they're together

-jaskier cant cook to save his life

-hes essentially the joey batey baking video irl

-every time he cooks geralt says a prayer that he won't get food poisoning

-like gordon does on kitchen nightmares

-jaskiers specialty is dino nuggets

-geralt pretends to hate them but he loves munching them after a long day

- “if word got out that a 16 michelin star chef liked dino nuggets id be done for julek, how dare you even suggest such a thing”

-one time on kitchen nightmares he lets it slip that he has a husband

- “even my husbands food is better than that!!” 

-and immediately goes “fuck”

-the whole internet is like you're MARRIED???? you're GAY??????

-cue hunt for the elusive husband

-jaskier thinks its fucking hilarious

-lambert teases him relentlessly

-there are many theories

-but alas, no one guesses the host of gbb

-one time

-its one of their many anniversaries 

-geralt forgot cause by this point they have at least 150

-that night on hells kitchen he goes “listen up. my husbands here tonight. its our anniversary. don't fuck this up.”

-everyone (including contestants) tries to figure out who the husband could be

-but they cant

-the only person of any remote significance is that hist of gbb sitting in the red kitchens vip booth

-eventually tho it Does come out

-in like

-the most ridiculous way possible

-theres this big fire in one of geralts restaurants 

-on the night he happens to be there

-everyones pretty much fine

-but geralt (along with most of the other kitchen staff) inhaled a fuck ton of smoke

-jaskier shows up just as geralts hacking and trying to sign the waiver to refuse care

-cause hes a “fucking witcher, jaskier. ive survived way worse with your slapdash first aid and back room healers i don't need modern medicine” 

-jaskier is Beside Himself

-meanwhile everyones like tf is the host of gbb doing here

-jaskiers arguing with geralt and everyones like :o cause you Don't do that

- “dear heart. you can’t breathe. you are GOING to the hospital if i have to drag you there myself!”

-everyones like....dear heart????

- “julek-”

- “no! you're my husband!! i fucking care about you, you oaf! modern medicine was invented for a reason!!!”

-everyones like oh. oh my god. that's him. that's the fucking husband.

-and geralts just like

- “i used to fight monsters i can survive some sm-” and then he just starts coughing

-and jaskiers like. instantly soft as heck. 

- “cmon dear heart, lets go talk to the emts, alright? I know you can survive without their help, but it would make me feel so much better if you listened to them.”

- “....fine”

-and jaskier gives him a forehead kiss and wraps his arm around him

-everyones Shocked

-cause it was bakeoff dude all along????

-geralts kinda annoyed 

- “now i gotta share you, julek”

- “there's enough of me to go around”

- “hmm”

- “if you're so annoyed we could always stage a divorce. we can afford one, we are legally married in like 16 countries”

- “no, jaskier”

-lambert teases them about it

- “really geralt? no one had Smoke Inhalation on their betting list for how the world find out you were together! now what are we supposed to do? the pool was like a million bucks!!”

-geralt ignores him

-but after it comes out

-jaskier occasionally surprises geralt at work

-and everyones So Shocked that grrr mean chef geralt is actually so soft with his husband??

-and jasper also talks about geralt on bakeoff 

-he tells cute stories

-i just love this au and i could talk about it for hours okay

#if someone drew geralt ramsey id give you my first born child #witcher #witcher au #witcher hc #geralt #geralt of rivia #chef!geralt #geralt ramsey #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #this is the best thing I've ever thought up

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Spicy Pheasant

A gift for @piranhainallcaps and my lovely pack of Aces in @continentcakeshop. Happy Ace Week, my friends. No content warnings apply, unless you have a fear of culinary disasters/a brief mention of murder.

Jaskier glared at the sizzling pan with ire and loathing. The meat, shrivelled and charred at the edges, spat back insolently, daring him to add yet another teaspoon of spice. “This,” Jaskier murmured, “will be perfect. I have applied my Oxenfurt education, my experience as a witcher’s companion. This shall be the finest meat, bread and dripping that Lambert has ever tasted.” He spoke out loud to reassure himself. The truth was, he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. The spices all looked the same, with names he didn’t really recognise, and the recipe itself was one of Valdo’s old favourites. He’d left it behind, along with a plethora of other items, after their final split.

The flatbread was laid out in the dishes ready to receive a generous helping of spiced meat and chopped vegetables. It was his second anniversary with Lambert. Not only did it mark two glorious years of wit, fun and excellent cuddles, it was also the longest period of consecutive time that Jaskier had ever been in a romantic relationship. Lambert deserved a medal, but he would have to settle for a meal and a nice cuddle in front of his favourite movie. It had been a long week for both of them—Jaskier had led almost back-to-back lectures and seminars for the last two days, covering a colleague’s absence, and the start of spring always meant a deluge of new contracts for Lambert. He would be tired, achey. Prime for snuggles. Hmm, perhaps Jaskier should run a bubble bath?

The door flung open, letting in the smell of fresh rain and a man that resembled a drowned rat more than a witcher. “Fucking—barghest,” Lambert growled, lifting his swords from his shoulders. The iron hook by their front door groaned under the weight of them, and puddles of rainwater gathered on the floor. “It would be so much easier if they came clean straight away, and I could salt and burn the source. But no, always claim they’re whiter than a virgin’s knickers and I nearly get my bollocks bitten off—hey, mm, thanks,” Jaskier was the only one allowed to cut off Lambert’s tirades and he never did it maliciously; a gentle kiss on his stubbled cheek, a mug of hot mead pressed into his cold fingers, “Yeah, just… pisses me off.”

“Barghest,” Jaskier repeated. “Like packs of hounds. Created by the concentration of ill will.”

“Yeah,” Lambert said. “One of the local bar owners had a young lad strangled in an alleyway for siphoning off money from the tills. Poor kid had a rough end—fuck, what’s that smell?”

Oh, that wasn’t good. Jaskier rolled his lower lip between his teeth and followed Lambert over to the pan. “It’s spiced pheasant, an—um, an old family recipe. Delectable, I’ve had it before.”

Lambert squinted suspiciously at the contents as he grabbed a wooden spoon from the drawer. He dipped the tip inside the sticky sauce clinging to the meet and dabbed it against his tongue. The reaction was almost instant; he spat into the sink and snatched up his mug for a long drink. His neck, his cheeks, the very tips of his ears, all flushed bright red.

Jaskier frowned. “Oh, I—not good?”

“How much spice did you put in that?” Lambert gasped as he came up for air.

“Two teaspoons of each,” Jaskier said, holding up a tablespoon.

“That—,” Lambert’s eyes were watering, and he rubbed his wrist through them as he grabbed the recipe card, “bard, it says a pinch of hot chilli, you put two tablespoons in it.”

“Pish posh, it says an equal measure of each! And you know, there was a lot of meat in there.” Jaskier thwapped Lambert with the spoon and leaned in to read for himself. “Oh, yes, a pinch of—which one was that?” He looked at the rows of bottles on the nearby shelf.

“Only the one that cost three times as much as all the others,” Lambert said bitterly, removing the pan from the flames. “This is inedible.”

“You can’t cook either!”

“I pretend not to be able to cook so that no one ever asks me to,” Lambert said. “Noodles again, Lambert? Guess we’ll just order in.” He did his best imitation of Eskel’s low rumble as he doused the flames with sand.

Jaskier’s shoulders fell. “Oh, I—I’m sorry, I thought that—you know, because it’s—.”

“Our anniversary,” Lambert said as he reached inside his jacket. From within, he pulled a flower carefully pressed in a small frame. Jaskier’s hands clapped to his mouth, drawing away only when Lambert nudged him on the shoulder.

“Aelirenn’s Bloom,” Jaskier whispered, in awe. They only grew in one place—Shaerrawedd, at the very top of a waterfall. In the clearing, on the eve of Beltane, tears of dew clung to their white petals and glistened in the moonlight. Jaskier remembered running his fingers through them as Lambert led him through the clearing by the hand; the witcher had told him they were the tears of a thousand elves, a reminder of what had been lost and what still existed to be fought for. “Lambert, you—.”

“I might have lied about the werewolf contract,” he said. “I figured it was worth it ‘cause—.”

He didn’t get to finish. Jaskier threw his arms around Lambert’s shoulders and pulled him close. The rainwater from Lambert’s gambeson soaked through his doublet, but he didn’t care. He nuzzled into that scruffy beard, his toes curling, his eyes scrunching closed, his delight almost tangible in the air around them. “You’re such a terribly outrageous romantic, you darling man, you beautiful rogue, you adorable scoundrel.”

Lambert sniffed and did his best to pull off ‘nonchalant’ as Jaskier drew back, but Jaskier, after all this time gazing into them every day, could see the pride and happiness shining brightly in glittering amber eyes. “Yeah, well. Hmm. Glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Jaskier said, clutching the frame close to his chest. It would take pride of place in his office so that he could gaze upon it every day. “I love you, Lambert.”

There was that flush again. Lambert wasn’t used to it. At first, he had bitten back with sarcasm and gruff rebuttal, but they had progressed now to bashful silence and a murmured ‘you too’. It wasn’t that Lambert didn’t love. It was that he loved so fiercely that it frightened him, threatened, at times, to overwhelm him. He was a man that needed to be in absolute control, and exposing his heart was a risk that had hurt him in the past. “Do you—uh, do you fancy a shower? I’m just—it’s cold. Keep us occupied while the pierogi gets here.”

Jaskier sighed. “We’re ordering in then.”

“Jaskier, you could pay me a rock troll’s weight in gold and I still wouldn’t eat that.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Jaskier waved his hand dismissively and headed to the bedroom while Lambert called in a take away.

Barely ten minutes passed before they were both wrapped together beneath a hot stream of water. Nudity with Lambert was always different. There was no fear of expectation. Jaskier could touch and hold Lambert with abandon and not worry that things would escalate to a point neither of them wanted. He placed his palms flat on Lambert’s chest as they kissed, strong arms wrapped around his back, warm water flooding over their heads and shoulders. Lambert’s lips were a delight. Sometimes, Jaskier liked them on his neck and chest too, cherub-bowed and so very soft.

Jaskier convinced Lambert to sit on the shower stool to have his hair washed, and reduced his big, gruff, scary witcher to relaxed sighs with a thorough scalp and neck massage. The cold and the smell of the outside left their skin, replaced with the soft glow of gentle affection and the subtle scent of Jaskier’s expensive soaps. When Jaskier had rinsed Lambert’s hair, Lambert stood and wrapped around his back, chin tucked over his shoulder, and eyes closed. They stood, wrapped together, and Jaskier felt his witcher relax against him, the occasional squeeze betraying a sudden rush of love that Lambert couldn’t contain. He was such an adorably soppy bastard on the inside.

They stayed until their fingertips and toes began to prune. Jaskier wrapped Lambert in a soft towel from the airing cupboard, and yelped when another was used to flick his backside. “Brigand!”

“Shouldn’t bend over in front of me naked, it’s an invite.”

They chased each other around the bedroom until Lambert conceded his obvious advantage and took a truly momentous whip-crack across the backside. “Fuck, that’s gonna leave a mark.”

“I’ll kiss it better,” Jaskier said airily, and Lambert chuckled.

They bundled up in their fluffiest dressing gowns, snatched the comforter from the bed, and made a small nest on their couch. The pierogi arrived fifteen minutes later, steaming hot and perfectly seasoned. They picked it apart together, a bottle of red wine passed between them, no glasses necessary. Lambert left their snug cocoon only long enough to light the fire nearby, stacking the logs nice and high, and returned quickly to Jaskier’s waiting arms. This was the best part. When Jaskier got to hold Lambert close, relaxed and safe, where no monsters could reach them, human or otherwise.

Lambert nosed aside the hem of the gown so he could press his face into Jaskier’s chest, nuzzling through the soft hair with a huff of contentment. “Love you, stupid bard.”

“Love you too, stupid witcher.”

Jaskier gazed at his framed flower as Lambert slept on his chest—a symbol of all they had overcome to be where they were—and smiled.

#rawrkinwrites #ace week #continent cake shop #sfw #no smut #Lambert #Jaskier #Lambert/Jaskier #Lambert x Jaskier #Bombard

[jaskierswolf]

Mayhaps a wild take : Geralt folds the corners of his precious, centuries old, valuable beyond compare, bestiaries. Jaskier sees and loses his marbles. ( Then gifts geralt a book mark with pressed.. somehow familiar flowers... 👀 )

Hi, hello... So... I got carried away? This is 2.1k? I hope you like it!

CW: mentions of injury (on Jaskier)

________

Monsters mutate. They adapt, change, grow. Geralt was clearly a very skilled witcher with decades of experience, and Jaskier never grew bored of watching him fight, on the rare occasions he was actually allowed to watch that is. Most of the time, he had to make do with second-hand stories told by Geralt himself, which just wasn’t the same. But, sometimes, just sometimes, Geralt would deem the contract safe enough for Jaskier to trail along with a silver dagger gripped in his hands, and sometimes... Geralt got it wrong.

Jaskier was poking at his bandaged thigh where the drowner had bitten him, already beginning to stain red as the blood oozed from the wound. It hadn’t needed stitches but it still stung. The fight, however, oh the fight had been surprisingly spectacular. It was a small drowner nest just outside of town, attacking nearby fisherman along the beach, nothing that Jaskier hadn’t seen before and certainly not ballad worthy, but he’d tagged along regardless. He never wanted to pass up the opportunity to see Geralt in action. The witcher was just so beautiful, dancing with his sword in hand, all grace and elegance and fury. Jaskier was entranced every time. It was truly a miracle he didn’t get hurt more often.

The drowners had been fast, faster than they should have been, and now Geralt was muttering about mutations and skin pigments as he scratched words into a worn out copy of a bestiary. The witcher has borrowed one of Jaskier’s least expensive ink sets to update the centuries old book. It broke Jaskier’s heart to see such a beautiful book treated so poorly but he understood that it needed updating to keep his witcher safe.

The poor book though.

Academics at Oxenfurt would kill to get their hands on it. It would have been treated with the utmost respect, kept away from the grubby hands of the first and second years, only allowed out for special projects, and here was Geralt, covering it in his appalling handwriting, bloody fingerprints and dirt smudges in the margins.

“Oh bollocks,” Jaskier hissed as he jabbed at the bandages a little too hard, his restless energy getting the better of him. The witcher always told him off for picking and scratching at his bandages and scabs, but he couldn’t help it. They were just so scratchable, and the itching drove him mad!

Geralt sighed, glancing up at Jaskier with an exasperated expression. He took one look at Jaskier’s bandage and…

And he fucking folded the corner of his page before closing the book.

Jaskier saw red. He stammered and pointed at the pages, gaping as he tried to find the right words to express his utter outrage. “You-You… Geralt!” he whined.

The witcher’s brow furrowed and he looked between the book and the bard, obviously completely confused by Jaskier’s sudden change in mood. “What?”

“You did not just fold down the pages!”

“Yes?”

Jaskier scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, dear witcher, you and I are taking a trip to Oxenfurt immediately!”

Geralt scowled, looking at Jaskier as if he’d grown a second head. “Why?”

“Geralt, please. Don’t make me suffer your cruelty any longer,” Jaskier pleaded.

The witcher rolled his eyes but didn’t argue any further. He just took Jaskier’s hands in his, keeping them away from the bandages. Jaskier blushed, the gap between them suddenly feeling too small and yet too far all at once. He swallowed, trying to ignore the sudden swell of nerves in his chest, and laced their fingers together, smiling shyly up at the witcher.

______

By the time they reached Oxenfurt, Jaskier’s limp had almost entirely gone. He still got tired quickly and by the end of the day he had to lean on Geralt or ride Roach until they found a suitable camping spot. Geralt had been ridiculously caring, obviously looking out for Jaskier at every opportunity, their days were shorter and well… Jaskier had actually been allowed to ride Roach. That was new. Holding hands had now become almost normal, and Geralt was just so gentle when he took care of the bandages, making sure the bite wound wasn’t infected. It made Jaskier’s heart do all sorts of acrobatics in his chest.

If he hadn’t been in love with the witcher, then he certainly would be after all of this-this… nonsense.

When Geralt wasn’t looking then he crouched at the side of the road, picking up a variety of buttercups and cornflowers and slipping them inside his heaviest poetry book. The supplies he needed from Oxenfurt were specialist ones. He hadn’t made bookmarks in ages, not since his days at the Academy, but he used to make them for all his friends. It was something to do with his hands that didn’t feel like work, and he had always enjoyed giving gifts. He was looking forward to getting back into his old hobby.

“Why are we here, Jaskier?” Geralt groused, glaring around the town with his scary witcher face. Jaskier felt a little bit bad for dragging Geralt back into a busy city but it was important.

He scoffed and waved a hand at the witcher. “You’ll see,” he said with a grin, and booped Geralt on the nose. “Don’t be nosy.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier hummed back, sticking out his tongue. “You know your way to my rooms at the Academy?” Geralt nodded. “Excellent! I will see you there in time for dinner, but I have shopping to do. Did you need any potion ingredients?”

Geralt cocked his head, his brow furrowing as he thought. “Blowballs.”

Jaskier grinned and brushed his lips against Geralt’s cheeks before he could chicken out. “Be good, darling, no scaring my colleagues.”

The witcher smirked. “Unless it’s Valdo?”

Jaskier laughed, “Unless it’s Valdo.”

And then they went their separate ways. Jaskier easily navigated the streets of Oxenfurt, basking in the hustle and bustle of the city. It was alive and thriving, as if it had a beating heart of its own. The witcher may hate the city but Jaskier lived for it. He was a bard, a man of the people. He needed to be seen, loved, adored. The bookshop was in the same place that it had been when he was a student, tucked away in the backstreets, only known by the students and professors. Jaskier grinned and slipped inside, the bell ringing as he pushed up the door.

He let his fingers trail along the leather spines of the books, inhaling the musky scent of paper and old parchment. It smelled like home, and a warmth settled in his heart. He knew this shop like the back of his hand, and he easily found the supplies he needed. The pressed flowers from the road would be fixed onto a soft leather strap, and then Jaskier would cut the end into smaller strips, creating a kind of tassel. He also planned to engrave an inscription into the leather, something lyrical, something poetic… something for Geralt to remember him by when they were apart.

“Gods, I’m pathetic,” he mumbled as he worked. His tongue flicked between his lips as it so often did when he needed to concentrate. Each letter took time, a delicate process, and he sat in the little corner at the back of the shop, just as he had in his youth. After an hour the owner, now an old man with a thick grey beard, brought him a cup of herbal tea. Jaskier smiled up at him, and gestured to his work.

“How’s it looking? I’m, well, I’m a little out of practice,” he hummed, scrunching up his nose.

“It’s beautiful, and it’s good to see you back here, Jaskier. It’s been too long. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us.”

“Oh, no. I would never!” Jaskier reassured him, “and thank you. This one is special.”

The shop owner chuckled. “You used to say that every time.”

Jaskier grinned sheepishly. “This one is extra special.”

He stayed later than he intended, past the closing time of the bookshop, and certainly past dinner time but he just lost track of time, too focused on his task. By the time he finished, Geralt’s bookmark was a work of art. The inscription was written in his finest calligraphy, and the flowers were arranged just perfectly. It had been made with love.

He just hoped that Geralt liked it.

When Jaskier made it back to his room, Geralt was perched on the corner of the bed, a needle and thread in his hands as he made repairs to his armour. His silver hair was loose and falling in front of his eyes, and there were the beginnings of a beard growing on his cheeks. The witcher’s golden slitted eyes were almost completely black in the dim light of the room, and Jaskier was once again envious of his friend’s ability to see in the dark. It was a handy skill, and he looked almost ethereal as the light bounced off his eyes, making them glow.

“Dinner was two hours ago,” Geralt murmured, not looking up from his sewing.

Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up and he scratched the back of his neck. “Ah, umm…, yes, well…”

“Jaskier.”

“You know how I get?”

“Hmm.”

His friend finally looked back up at him, giving Jaskier a soft fond smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. Jaskier stuck his tongue out, “Don’t hum at me, witcher, I’m fluent in Geralt speak!”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being obtuse, and don’t you dare…” Geralt hummed again. “Stop it! You bastard. I’m not giving you your present now.”

“Present?” Geralt cocked his head, looking stunned by Jaskier’s revelation.

“Ha! That got you, oh shit, cock it. It was meant to be a surprise. Fuck!” he groaned and buried his face in his hands. The bookmark was tucked away in his bag but it seemed to be taunting him, and he was suddenly struck by the fear that Geralt would hate it.

Fucking buttercups.

He was an idiot.

Why would a witcher want flowers on a bookmark?

“You got me a present?”

Jaskier nodded “I made you a present, Geralt.”

The witcher looked completely taken aback, a blush painting his cheeks. He set his needle and thread aside, and reached out for Jaskier. It was almost instinct at that point to reach back, taking Geralt’s hands in his. “Can I see?”

Jaskier glanced at his satchel and sighed. “Yes, yeah. Yes, of course. Umm, wait here.”

With shaking hands he plucked the cloth bundle from his satchel and handed it to Geralt, mentally preparing himself for the worst. At least he was already in Oxenfurt, he wouldn’t have to travel alone when the witcher inevitably decided to dump him. Gods, he was such a fool.

Geralt gingerly unfolded the dark blue cloth, humming as he picked up the bookmark. “Buttercups?”

Scratching the back of his neck, Jaskier cleared his throat. “Yes?”

“To my dearest, Geralt. May your days be filled with Destiny, heroics, and love. Ever yours, Jaskier.” Geralt read the words aloud and Jaskier wanted to sink into the floor. It was ridiculous. They weren’t even that good. He was supposed to be a poet for Lilit’s sake.

“It’s shit. I’m sorry, I’m tired, what with my leg healing and the rush to get here, but I just… you fold down the corners of your page, Geralt. I could not sit by and let that happen, and I-I… ah fuck it. I wanted you to have something to remember me by, you know,” he gave a flick of his wrist, one hand resting on his hip, “when you’re stuck up in that mysterious witcher keep of yours, and well, you probably don’t remember but I-I said you smelled like-”

“Death and destiny. Heroics and heartbreak, I remember.”

“Oh, umm… well yes. Death and heartbreak seemed a bit… dramatic? So, I-I changed it… to love.”

“Thank you, Julek,” Geralt murmured, cupping Jaskier’s cheek and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss that was over before Jaskier could even process what was happening.

He stared wide-eyed up at his friend, his heart racing and the whole universe shifted until Geralt was at the centre, burning brightly in the dark. Jaskier cupped the nape of Geralt’s neck and pulled him back into another kiss, and this time they didn’t break apart, their lips moving in tandem. It was slow, lazy even. There was no rush, just the two of them against the world, their breaths mingling and their hearts beating as one.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #wolfie's witcher writing

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part VIII

First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

They left the next day just after the sunrise broke watery through the clouds still lingering overhead, not wanting to overstay their welcome. The walk back to the nearby village was an easy one, the air still cool from the recent rain. The innkeeper hadn’t given their pre-paid room away to other guests despite the fact that they hadn’t used it for anything more than storage, which was a surprise. It was noon by the time they made it back, and they were easily able to secure the room for another evening so early in the day. Jaskier agreed to play at dinner, so they even managed to get a slightly reduced rate.

When they made it up to the room, Jaskier flopped immediately down on the bed, throwing an arm over his face. “Melitele, I could sleep for a week,” he groaned, slightly muffled. “I haven’t been this sore in years.”

“Good for you to finally get some exercise,” Geralt smirked as he checked on their belongings. Everything was where they’d left it, luckily. Geralt let out a breath of relief to see his potions all secure in their bag, the oathstone nestled amongst them.

Jaskier lifted his arm enough to glare at him. “As if walking day in and day out at your side isn’t work enough.”

“You’ve ridden Roach more than I have over the last week,” Geralt pointed out.

Jaskier put his arm down, head tilted to the side to look in Geralt’s direction. His hair spilled messily across the pale sheets. “I suppose I have,” he said, a small furrow appearing in his brow. The easy energy he’d had since they’d woken this morning was gone; now he seemed tense. His eyes lost their focus, his mind clearly going elsewhere.

Geralt didn’t know what to make of it. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m going to go and see if they have any contracts for me. We won’t be stopping much over the next few weeks.”

At this Jaskier refocused, curious. “Where are we going next? We have all the pieces for the ritual, right?”

Geralt nodded. “The last piece is a location. We’re going back to Posada.”

*

The journey from the Brokilon to the Blue Mountains was one of weeks, rather than days. At this time of year the River Sodden and her many roads were wide open, and they were able to easily pass south under the Mohakams. This far south, spring was already giving way to summer, the warm vestiges of the Nilfgaardian desert winds finding their way to the pockets and hills of Angren and Rivia.

It should have been a pleasant journey. It was one they’d taken many times before, once Nilfgaard was no longer an issue, and they were both well familiar with the area. They kept the river to their south and traveled during the cooler parts of the day, stopping often. The wide river offered a constant source of beauty and convenience, and they were able to wash and fish regularly. Rivia, though not Geralt’s home by any stretch of the imagination, was friendly and offered plenty of places for them to stop and rest at the halfway point.

It should have been downright delightful, but instead it was… tense. Jaskier was quiet and contemplative much of the time, reserved in a way Geralt had rarely known him to be. He barely touched his lute, to the point where Geralt asked after it, only receiving a vague and unconvincing answer about saving the strings from the humidity. He spent the evening hours scribbling away in his journal, or simply lying and staring up at the stars. Sometimes, disconcertingly, he watched Geralt, especially when he seemed to think Geralt wasn’t paying attention. The furrow between his brow had grown to be near constant, and his shoulders had lost their easy swoop. When they spoke, something about Jaskier’s words felt needling, as if he was testing the waters for something. What, Geralt couldn’t even begin to guess.

He wanted to ask about it, but he found himself unable to find the words to do so. Jaskier didn’t seem mad at him—he knew what that looked like well enough, and this wasn’t it. He wanted to ask, but if he did it seemed possible, probably even likely, that Jaskier would admit that he’d figured out that Geralt was hiding something from him. He might even have realized the extent of Geralt’s feelings, or what the ritual really meant. Maybe Silvandrel had said too much, or Geralt had been too expressive, or too generous. Whatever it was, Jaskier was smart, maybe the smartest man Geralt had ever known; it wouldn’t take much for him to put two and two together. As he found Jaskier’s eyes lingering on him more and more frequently, it seemed also more and more likely that Jaskier was just trying to find a way to let him down easily.

Still, it wasn’t unbearable. Traveling with Jaskier in a mood was still better than traveling alone, and as always Geralt relished the chance to spend such uninterrupted time together. It was the best in the evenings, when their camp was already set up and the heat of the day had dispersed, and they had nothing better to do than sit and talk before both of them grew too tired to stay awake.

“What’s it like?” Jaskier asked one evening, lying on his bedroll with his ankle propped up on one raised knee. His lute was in his hands, a rare thing nowadays, but he wasn’t really playing it, just plucking a tune here or there. Testing the waters, it seemed.

Geralt was sitting with his back propped against a ragged tree stump, charred at the top where lightning had once struck. He looked up from where he was examining Roach’s tack, taking too long to reply as he was caught up in the image of Jaskier in the firelight. “What?”

Jaskier swiveled his head to look over at him, looking uncharacteristically pensive. “Being immortal. Or—not mortal. What do you even call a witcher, anyways. Semi-mortal? How long do you usually live? I’ve never gotten a straight answer about it.”

Geralt shrugged, the bridle dangling between his knees as he set his elbows to rest on them. “No one really knows,” he admitted. “Vesemir is… three hundred? We’re not sure, that’s based on references he makes, but Lambert swears sometimes he says things just to throw us off. Witchers don’t really… die of old age.”

“Surely some of you must retire,” Jaskier insisted. “Maybe not lately, but in years past…”

Geralt shook his head. “If they did, I haven’t heard of them. The Path is our life; we meet our end while on it. I know we can live for several human lifetimes, at least. I was older than you are now when we met.”

Jaskier’s mouth twisted in a smile that ached with bitter nostalgia. “I must have looked like a child to you.”

“You were a child,” Geralt laughed.

Jaskier threw something at him, and it bounced harmlessly off his knee. An acorn; the entire area was thick with oak trees. Clearing the ground beneath their bedrolls had been a pain. “Ass,” Jaskier chidded, but he was chuckling too. “I suppose we must all seem rather young to people like you though. Yennefer is the worst, she shouldn’t be allowed to poke fun at my very dignified salt and pepper and then turn around and call me an infant the next moment.”

Young man, Silvandrel had said, with that odd patronization that came only to those who would outlive most people they met. “It’s… not exactly like that,” Geralt allowed, studying Jaskier’s profile painted in orange and gold and dark dusky blue shadows. “Age isn’t the same as experience. There are eighty year olds who have done less in their lives than you had at twenty-three.” Jaskier looked over at him again, with a distinct expression of surprise and awe that Geralt was beginning to recognize as his reaction to Geralt giving him a compliment. He pushed on, turning his own gaze back to the tack in his hands. “I just mean, you don’t seem young, or inexperienced—at least not anymore,” he added, unable to resist throwing Jaskier a quick smirk.

“So Yennefer just calls me a toddler for her own enjoyment,” Jaskier said, squinting at him.

“Well, yes,” Geralt snorted. “But, it’s—you’ll understand. After. It’s not that you all seem young, necessarily, it’s just that you all seem sort of… I don’t know.” He shrugged. It was difficult to articulate the strange sense of fragility and youth that he associated with all humans, no matter their age.

“Temporary?” Jaskier offered, and Geralt grunted an affirmation. Of course Jaskier would be able to identify the feeling without ever experiencing it himself. Jaskier hummed in acknowledgement, and was quiet for a few moments, as if mulling that over. His fingers played over his lute strings, picking out a melancholy tune. After a while, he said, “It sounds a bit lonely. Knowing that almost everyone you meet will die a hundred years before you do. That they’ll never understand the way you view the world.” His eyebrows were knotted together as he contemplated the night sky.

Geralt bit his lip. “It… can be. Even amongst ourselves, we never know who’ll make it back after a year on the Path.”

Jaskier’s foot tapped the empty air where it hung over his knee. “Everyone I know, went to school with, taught with in Oxenfurt. They’ll all be gone before I will, if this works.”

Geralt felt dread unfurl within him, but this wasn’t something that he could deny Jaskier. This was the reality of Geralt’s offer, of what he was asking Jaskier to do. “Yes,” he said. But you’ll have me, he didn’t say, even though it burned at the tip of his tongue. You’ll have my brothers, and Ciri, and even Yennefer, and you’ll have me, always. That’s the point.

Jaskier looked over at him, eyes bright. He looked like he could hear Geralt’s thoughts, like maybe he was thinking the same thing. And then he grinned brightly and said, “I’ll outlast Valdo Marx by a century.”

Geralt couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter that left his throat. Jaskier launched into an excited diatribe against Valdo Marx, something about destroying his legacy after death, and Geralt allowed the babble to wash over him as he went back to fixing Roach’s tack.

After a while the conversation turned to other things, and they spent the rest of the evening in relative quiet. Eventually it was time to bed down for the night, and they banked the fire and crawled into their respective bedrolls. Just as Geralt was on the edge of sleep, Jaskier’s voice slipped through the quiet darkness around them.

“I don’t think I’m going to be.”

Geralt shook himself, turning to squint at Jaskier’s grey form, two aching feet away from him. His entire body itched to roll closer, but he focused instead on Jaskier’s words. “Hmm? You won’t be what?”

Jaskier let out a deep breath into the night air, soft like a secret. “Lonely.”

*

Posada was much the same.

Geralt didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been back. He knew he had been here post-Filavandrel incident, and he suspected Jaskier had as well, but they’d not returned together to the little valley at the edge of the world since the beginning. It had to have been at least ten years since he’d last been here on his own, but the small town was relatively familiar looking still. It had grown a bit since the war, likely as refugees from the south settled in the area, and there were new houses clustered around the outskirts. Still, the bones of it remained unchanged, and the inn was right where they’d left it.

They said nothing as they made their way into the town and headed in that direction. There was, so far as Geralt knew, no other place to find rooms for the night, so they didn’t have much of a choice. Stepping inside the small downstairs tavern should have been just like stepping into any other of the thousands like it that he’d been in, but it wasn’t. Things had been rearranged, of course; the furniture had been shuffled, and now a long table sat on the far side of the room before the fire. The small, cleared out space that Jaskier had stood in to sing was gone, filled with a cluster of tables and chairs. But the lone table in the back corner was, somehow, unmoved.

Geralt turned to Jaskier and found him staring at the spot as if entranced. He brushed his fingers against Jaskier’s forearm, and the bard blinked at him, startled back into the moment. “We should get a room,” Geralt said by way of explanation, and Jaskier nodded.

The man who arranged for their stay was not the one who had done so the first time, or the time after that, but his features were similar, so perhaps this was a son. He was amiable enough, and though Jaskier didn’t make any commitment to playing he offered them a fair rate.

Jaskier did end up playing, after they’d sat and eaten a quiet meal, avoiding the table in the corner in silent agreement. His fingers had worried at the edge of his lute case for a long moment, his eyes unfocused, and then something determined had steeled over his face and he’d stood.

There was a decent crowd this time around, bigger than the last time—the first time—that Jaskier had played here. Geralt remembered the stumbling notes, the ridiculous stories that spilled from the bard’s lips, unrefined. The way that the patrons of the bar had heckled him until he dipped sheepishly off the stage. He could understand why Jaskier might be nervous about playing here; even if no one remembered him, this had obviously been one of Jaskier’s first real performances for an honest audience.

It was like night and day. Jaskier had the entire room eating out of the palm of his hand in moments, as he always did, and his voice was clear and strong. Geralt recognized most of the songs, and almost all of them were about him, though he didn’t think any of the patrons put two and two together. Whereas Jaskier normally poked and prodded at Geralt throughout a performance to let everyone know that his muse was present, tonight he was subdued, letting Geralt watch quietly from a side table without dragging him into the proceedings. He might have thought that Jaskier had forgotten his presence entirely, if not for the occasional glance he caught Jaskier throwing his way, stealing his breath each time.

When he was finally done with his set and bowed his way out to the cheers of the audience, he made his way back to Geralt with his lute tucked under his arm. Jaskier leaned against the table in the space next to him, their knees just barely touching where Geralt’s was thrust out away from the chair. Jaskier looked down at him with almost a sheepish expression, giving him a quirked smile. “So. Three words or less?”

There were so many things he could say to that. So many things he wanted to say. You’re so beautiful, he thought, his eyes catching on the way Jaskier’s fingers wrapped around the neck of the lute, how his eyes shone in the low light of the inn. I loved it. Don’t leave me. I love you.

Instead, he said, a bit hoarsely, “Definitely more accurate.”

Jaskier laughed, some of that tension he’d been carrying for weeks breaking, and Geralt felt sweet relief at the sound. “Well I’d certainly hope so, after nearly thirty years of tailing you. At the very least I know my drowners from my nekkers.”

“At least there’s that,” Geralt chuckled, passing Jaskier a tankard of ale as he sat. “Glad to see you got something out of it.”

Jaskier took a sip of his drink, leaning his cheek on his fist. His eyes were bright when he looked at Geralt, and his expression was one Geralt recognized—he was bothered about something, but trying to keep his demeanor jovial. On anyone else, Geralt expected it would be an immaculate deception, but Geralt knew him. He wasn’t fooled by Jaskier’s court masks.

“Was it worth it?” Jaskier asked, taking another sip of his ale. His eyes left Geralt’s, flitting around the room.

Geralt frowned at him. “Was what worth it?”

Jaskier looked back at him, expression unreadable. “Letting an ambitious and no doubt obnoxious bard leave this tavern with you all those years ago.”

Geralt couldn’t help it; before he could think to stop himself, he had reached out to set his hand over Jaskier’s where it still held the handle of his cup. Jaskier jerked a bit at the touch, a drop of ale sliding down over their layered hands. “Of course it was,” Geralt said vehemently, not bothering to keep the earnestness out of his tone. Jaskier had to know. Even if he already suspected that something was afoot, even if this was some sort of test, Geralt couldn’t risk letting Jaskier think that he regretted a single moment of it. “You’re… Jask, you’re one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

Geralt could hear the sharp intake of breath at that, could see the way Jaskier looked down at their overlapped fingers and blinked rapidly. A small smile stole across his face, though there was a twist to it that seemed almost sad. “I’m glad, Geralt. Truly.”

Geralt wanted to ask, And for you? Was it worth it? But the tavern goers were quickly heading out now that Jaskier’s set was finished, and it was obvious that they would soon be the last ones remaining. And he found himself afraid, as he so often was nowadays, of the possibility that Jaskier would say no, that he should have spent the last thirty years playing in noble houses and courting beautiful women, rather than trekking endlessly after a surly witcher. He knew that it would make sense for Jaskier to have regrets, but he found that he didn’t think he was strong enough to hear them spoken aloud.

So instead he transferred his touch to Jaskier’s wrist, giving it a light tug. “We should head up,” he said, and Jaskier nodded. They pulled apart, and Jaskier finished his drink, and collected his lute. As they both turned to walk up the stairs, Geralt found his eyes catching once again on the little table in the corner. It had sat empty the entire night, as if waiting for something—or someone—to fill its seats once again.

~

Almost done folks! Just two more parts, and tomorrow’s includes the last piece of art for this story! 

tags: @whereismymonsterlover 

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geraltxjaskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #witcher #big bang #fic #fanfic #writing #my work #me lamh #geraskierbigbang #multichapter

[to-be-honest-i-dunno]

Jaskier gets a surprise for Geralt (Geralt doesn't like it)

Being allowed to play for Princess Pavettas Betrothal party is a high honour for every bard. Jaskier knew that and was really happy, there was just one tiny tinsy problem, he may have angered a few of the noblemen there by sleeping with their wives.

Of course this won’t deter him from going there, he would be an idiot if that would be the reason he would be a no show.

And maybe he should have planned it a bit more out than just springing it to Geralt at the last second while he was helping him wash away all the monster gut from his hair that he needs an escort, mistakes were made that day.

But god, at least he wasn’t that stupid to call the law of surprise, not when Witchers still had a bad reputation with humans.Not if when called there could be a child involved.

But apparently Geralt didn’t have the same common sense as he has, because he was that stupid. And as far as it looks like he doesn’t even want to have anything to do with his child surprise.

As if destiny would allow that.

She was a bitch like that sometimes, would give you something or someone just to rip them away from you when you got thoroughly attached to them. Or she will force two people to meet, even if one or both make a conscious decision not to see the other one.

He knew that from his experience, the people he loved always seemed to die and the people he hated somehow were always in his life.

At least at the moment they don’t really know who he is and think he is dead. Well expect his newest enemy, Valdo fucking Marx. 

He will rub it under Valdo’s nose that he was asked to play not only in Cintras court but also for something so important as the Betrothal party of the princess as well.

But firstly he needs to smooth everything over now that Geralt has claimed the next princess in the law of surprise and just stormed away from the party.

And he knew that Geralt wouldn’t come back for a while for his child. 

Making sure he wasn’t banished to ever come to Cintra again was surprisingly easy.  He is really thankful that princess Pavetta named him the child's godfather because of his connection to Geralt. The Queen was mad about this decision, but couldn’t deter her daughter to change her mind and let it happen. So he was officially announced the unborn princess godfather.

Maybe all of this won’t be so bad after all. He could look out for this child in Geralt’s stead.

And like that, Destiny formed another boned between these three people. One which in the end could destroy the other once or make all of them so much stronger.

#Jaskier #witcher!jaskier #immortal jaskier #Geralt #pavetta #the witcher #law of surprise #Why would Geralt call the law of surprise? #And he says destiny is a bitch #Destiny is a bitch tho #the hurt will come later #after this maybe #I mean Jaskier already has some feelings for Geralt #How will Jaskier feel about Yennefer I wonder? #He has heard of her from Tissaia #Tissaia is probably faceplaming at these idiots

[artistsfuneral]

[Previously]

Melitele knows how Aiden could have survived a massacre like Lambert has described to them when they set fire to his pyre. If the cat witcher really is alive, who knows what might has happened to him in the past few years. While his survival is possible, it is also not unheard of that a witcher has fallen into the hands of the wrong kind of people. In the worst case scenario someone has meddled with Aiden's mind and he actually went after Jaskier on a contract. Jaskier is strong, if he wants to he's even strong enough to take on a witcher, Geralt knows that much from the winters spend at Kaer Morhen. And yet he can't help but worry. Even if Aiden has been considered a friend, a part of their family, he's still a cat and a cat gone mad is a dangerous opponent.

He looks at Marx, who's still cowering an arms length away from him against the wall, considering. “You're not clipped, are you?” He asks, because who knows what nobles are doing to their children these days. Marx' mouth opens wide and he gapes at Geralt. “Excuse me?”

The witcher furrows at him, before he realizes the implication and snarls in disgust. “Ugh, not like that you single minded-” he stops himself and hisses, “Your wings, you idiot. Can you fly us to where Jaskier is?” The bard blushes in embarrassment about his mistake. “Technically,” it sounds more like another question than an answer. “You look- uh. How do I say this? You look a bit...” Marx makes a few faces, trying to find the right words. “A bit more muscular than the fine maidens I am used to carry.”

Geralt glares at Jaskier's husband. Marx combs through his messy hair, only now noticing that he forgot his hat at the tavern, before he sighs deeply. “Yes, alright. Fine. I will do it.”

“Just...” Marx takes a look at the bustling market place at the end of the alleyway a group of people trying to surreptitiously get a look at what's going on between the bard and the witcher. “Not right now. An hour before dawn, at the entrance of the forest. Oh, don't look at me like that, witcher, I won't run, you have made your point perfectly clear. Also Jaskier's disappearance is kind of my fault, so I guess I can carry us to... to where exactly?”

---

a) “The Blue Mountains.”

b) “Vengerberg.”

Now, what would be smarter? Going to Kaer Morhen, or going to see Yennefer?

Also what do you think Jaskier and Valdo are??

List of yelling people:

@confessionsofapaintingfreak @bardic-charm @leaena2go @westmoor @blooodymoon @gladyoucouldmakeit @clarebear66 @dapandapod @wingedpuppyface @whereiscarmensa @stinastar @moonlightcrazyphoenix @whereskansas @wolf-and-bard @cervitaur-in-a-hood @des8pudels8kern @llamasdumpsterfire @kalikatze @dragonleighs @isnipedgodlastsaturday @live-long-and-trek-on @kittynannygaming @ealdor @fontegagrilledcheese @terrenis @ailorian @etcorsolus @whereismymonsterlover @nbspaceboy @honeysuckletook @notsosweetsweetheart @hardrockerhippie @the-book-reaper

If your tag didn't take, that's probably because of your privacy settings

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #valdo marx #bullying valdo marx lol #witcher #geralt of rivia

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

He’s Not Important

Valdo is the perfect man, he really is. He’s thoughtful, he’s kind, he loves Jaskier. Jaskier wants something else.

Jaskier/Valdo (current), Jaskier/Geralt (past)

Warnings: Heavy angst, rough sex, violence, drug and alcohol use, dub-con*, adultery, toxic people and their toxic relationships, overuse of flashbacks, Valdo’s not the bad guy in this one, ending is ambiguous and all characters could be happy one day with a lot of therapy so y’know... *marking as dubcon because, at times, all parties were unable to fully consent due to drugs/alcohol and also the mental states of Jaskier and Geralt are questionable at *all* times

-

Jaskier smiled the most enthusiastic smile he could manage as Valdo opened the door to the restaurant, ushering him inside. He was doing his best to feel excited; it was their anniversary after all, and the restaurant was amazing, and he was here with his boyfriend of two years.

He worried his smile fell flat.

It shouldn’t, really. He should be thrilled, happy to be here. Valdo was amazing, the perfect gentleman at all times. He was kind and thoughtful and everything you should want from a partner. And every time he smiled at Jaskier and told him how much he loved him, Jaskier felt empty inside. There was no reason for this, Valdo was easily the best boyfriend Jaskier had ever had, certainly the kindest and most thoughtful. All of his friends were jealous, they looked at Valdo and saw the epitome of boyfriend material. He truly cared about Jaskier’s wellbeing, his thoughts, his feelings, it was amazing. It should be everything Jaskier needed from a relationship, everything he could want.

It wasn’t.

He craved more. He would lie awake at night remembering his last relationship, the fire that ran through his veins. The urgency, the passion.

Jaskier had never felt those things with Valdo.

It was like an addiction and he was hopeless to stop it. His skin itched as he tried to pick a fight, to get Valdo to raise his voice, to throw something at a wall. But he never did, Valdo stayed calm and kind and wanted to understand what was wrong, wanted to help.

It was too much for Jaskier.

Sitting across from Valdo in the restaurant, Jaskier knew that he could easily let himself stay in this miserable dead-end relationship. He would be fine.

Not happy. Never happy.

He would never be happy, though.

-

Jaskier groaned as his back was slammed up against the nearest wall. He felt Geralt’s mouth on his neck, biting down as he ground his hips against Jaskier’s.

They had been arguing, again. Geralt missed another dinner, one they had been planning for weeks. He said he was busy at work, that he got held up. He got held up at work a lot.

Jaskier had spent hours agonizing over the meal, cleaning the apartment, he had gone out of his way to pick up the hard-to-find imported beer Geralt favored. It was supposed to be special. But Geralt stumbled in two hours late, smelling like whiskey and cigarettes, excuses falling off of his lips as soon as he took in the sight of Jaskier sitting dejectedly at the table, the now cold meal still sitting in front of him.

The excuses were too much, making Jaskier see red. The next thing he realized, his plate was flying through the air, slamming into the wall behind Geralt, shattering all over the ground. And then Jaskier was pushed up against a wall, teeth digging into his neck. And then he was bent over the kitchen counter, more dishes being pushed off as he tried to brace himself. Geralt pushed into him brutally, making Jaskier grunt as he was rhythmically forced up against the cabinets. He groaned at the pain, already feeling the bruises forming.

-

“How was last week, by the way? When I was out of town. I hope you weren’t too lonely with me gone.” Valdo tried to strike up conversation as they looked over their menus. Jaskier didn’t respond.

-

Geralt was like a drug Jaskier just couldn’t seem to quit. Memories of their time together haunted Jaskier, he could still practically feel the man’s grip, tight and unrelenting, as he pounded into him from behind after they fought again. He could still feel his teeth biting down, too hard, always too hard, on Jaskier’s thigh, marking him, claiming him.

It was little surprise that Jaskier ended up back in Geralt’s bed despite their breakup, despite his current relationship with Valdo. But Valdo was out of town and Jaskier had an itch he needed scratched. And Geralt, well Geralt had always managed to scratch that itch better than anyone else ever had.

It was just a matter of sending a simple text, “you home?” and then Jaskier was in Geralt’s apartment, bent in half as Jaskier screamed out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Geralt was just as rough as Jaskier remembered him being, just as aggressive, just as uncaring of Jaskier’s pleasure, simply taking his own.

Jaskier loved it.

-

Jaskier smiled politely at the waiter as the man stumbled through taking their order, staring at Jaskier as if he recognized him. As he walked away, Jaskier couldn’t help but notice the tattoo on the back of the man’s forearm, a memory hitting him like a truck.

-

Jaskier leaned on the man in front of him, letting their bodies rub together. His hands were woven through the man’s hair. The man had a tattooed arm wrapped around him, one hand down the back of Jaskier’s pants, gripping his ass tightly and grinding them together, his other hand still holding the drink Jaskier had first approached him with.

He felt himself being moved backward, toward the bathrooms. He was desperate, the vodka mixing with the ecstasy in ways that clouded Jaskier’s head, making him whine, every sensation amplified tenfold. His head spun with lust and he felt himself pressed up against the door of the bathroom.

SMASH

Jaskier forced his eyes open, focusing on the sight in front of him. Geralt, hovering in front of him, Jaskier’s… friend’s drink, smashed on the ground, the man in question thrown on the ground. Suddenly, Geralt has a hand on Jaskier’s shirt, pulling and manhandling him out of the back exit of the club, pushing him up against the wall of the alleyway.

Jaskier keens at the first thrust, Geralt pushing into him with far too little preparation. The drag of skin on skin like lightning shooting through his veins. He’s achingly hard, crying for more, harder, and then it’s over. Geralt’s done, telling Jaskier to pull up his pants and hurry the fuck up so they don’t miss the last train.

Jaskier brings himself on that night sitting on the floor of the shower, his hands scraped and bloody from the wall in the alleyway.

He cries.

-

Jaskier leaned over the bar biting his lip as he practically stared down the shirt of the bartender, “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to convince you to spend the night with me?”

She frowned back at him, “I saw you come in with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not important.”

Crossing her arm in front of her, she wouldn’t even meet Jaskier’s eyes, “I’m not a homewrecker.”

“You wouldn’t be wrecking any homes, like I said, he’s not important.”

“I can’t take you home, I have a roommate.”

Jaskier smiled, he had known from the moment he saw her he would have her, “Well then I’ll take you back with me.”

“To the apartment you share with your boyfriend?” She sounded skeptical, but not nearly as opposed as she probably should have.

“I’ll put a sock on the door, he can wait outside.”

“That’s fucked up.”

Jaskier shrugged, standing up to his full height and throwing back the rest of his drink, the burn in his throat sending warmth through him, “Do you want to fuck, or not? Because if you’re amenable, I’d like to spend at least an hour with my head between your legs.”

The woman glanced over his shoulder to where Valdo sat quietly, waiting for Jaskier to come back with the drinks he said he was going to get about half an hour ago. Jaskier had been hoping that maybe by flirting with the bartender, Valdo would get riled up, drag Jaskier back home and claim him, make him understand who he belonged to.

Instead, Valdo just… waited.

“You’re sure he won’t mind?” The girl finally asked.

“Doesn’t really matter if he does or doesn’t, I’ll get you off either way. Three times if you behave.”

The woman flushed and grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling her phone number on it and sliding it across the bar, “I’m off work at three.”

“I’ll text you where to meet me.”

…

“She seemed nice!”

“She wants to fuck me,” Jaskier responded dully, throwing her number on the table in front of Valdo so he could see her name scrawled on it.

Valdo smiled back at him, “Well of course she does. Look at you. If I didn’t already have you then I would be trying to get your attention too!”

“I want to fuck her.”

“Oh… well, I don’t blame you. She’s beautiful. And like I said, so are you. I’m lucky to have you.”

Jaskier stands up abruptly, grabbing his jacket, “I’m leaving.” He storms out of the building.

Hours later when he stumbles into their apartment, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes and a woman’s perfume, Valdo asks no questions, just helps Jaskier clean up and makes sure he’s okay.

-

The meal came and they ate in silence, Jaskier focusing on his plate until Valdo cleared his throat. Jaskier looked up, trying hard to not look bored and undoubtedly failing. Valdo stood from his seat, kneeling on the floor beside Jaskier.

Fuck.

“Jaskier, I love you so much and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. Will you marry me?”

Jaskier felt like the world was spinning around him, crashing down. His cheat seized; his hands shook. He needed out.

“No.”

-

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#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #fanfiction #valdskier #valskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #valdo marx

[jaskiersvalley]

I absolutely love your writing!! It's so very enjoyable and your au's are absolutely delightful. I just thought you should know.

Thank you so much, Nonnie! AUs are something I really enjoy and to hear that others find them fun makes me so very happy. As a little thank you, here’s another AU feat Kaer Morhen Radio and a Jaskier driving an 18 wheeler.

Life was a lonely one on the road. There were many acquaintances and other drivers Jaskier had a passing friendship with, Valdo Marx had the annoying habit of having similar routes to him - they did say mimicry was the highest form of compliment. Alas, nobody was a steady presence in Jaskier’s life. Well, nobody who was aware of him. Though there was the Kaer Morhen Radio family. They were the closest Jaskier had to everyday friends, as sad as that sounded.

“Good morning fuckheads.” Such a declaration could only mean it was 6am and Lambert had taken over. Instinctively, Jaskier was smiling as he sat up with a yawn. Most radio stations liked to gently rouse listeners with swelling music that got more up beat as the day went on. Not Kaer Morhen Radio. They had Lambert as their morning DJ, there to wake sensitive ears in more and more creative ways. He had become known for his unique way to wake listeners up; from bringing in pots to bang to trying to imitate the mating call of a moose at full volume. The only thing listeners loved more than Lambert being a general prick was his flirtation with Aiden who did weather and traffic announcements.

“And, in those four famous words: and now, the weather,” Lambert announced gleefully. After a long moment of silence, he snickered. “We shall have to give Aiden a moment to climb out from under the desk and rinse his mouth. In the mean time, here’s a banger.”

The banger, Jaskier was surprised to find, was quite literally a recording of someone (possibly Lambert) attempting to play drums (badly) on some kitchen pots. By the time the piece reached its rather boisterous end, it seemed that Aiden was no longer preoccupied.

“The weather today-” Jaskier tuned Aiden’s words out in favour of figuring out whether he was messing around or whether he really did sound so husky and gravelly thanks to having his throat fucked. It was quite the conundrum and Jaskier spent the start of his morning drive wondering how many complaints Lambert and Aiden will get now. Their record was 36 for the game of “identify that noise” wherein they stuck their fingers in various containers and made them squelch. To that day, nobody knew whether the last one really was, in Lambert’s words, “Aiden’s well used hole and my come”.

Afternoons were much more peaceful. Eskel took over at 2pm and he was laid back, played soothing music and gave the impression of being a very calm and reliable member of society. Jaskier always maintained it was an impression because, among all the chat, Eskel would sometimes drop a strange little fact that made him do a double take or two.

“This next song,” Eskel had once said, “was written while under the influence of cocaine.” It was a reasonable enough fact to share, Jaskier had been listening while stuck in a traffic jam along a motorway. “How they managed to write it though, I have no idea. Cocaine is terrible for your focus, I could barely scratch an itch before being distracted by something else. So kudos to the writers for creating a whole song while off their face.”

Which was something Jaskier had never thought Eskel would know anything about. He always seemed to demure, the solid rock of Kaer Morhen Radio. He balanced out Yennefer’s news updates perfectly. It was probably why Jaskier liked him so much, now that he thought of it. The surface innocence mixed in with hints of a very colourful life lived beneath the steady exterior. Well, hints other than the incident where Eskel somehow managed to not turn his microphone off and had a conversation about going to a rave with someone who worked at the radio station. Nobody knew the man’s name and his answers were half muffled but listeners swore they heard him suggest something along the lines of a collar and leash - which Eskel had hummed in agreement to, sounding all too happy. When questioned, Eskel resolutely refused to name the mystery man but conceded that there had been a rave. Jury was out whether Eskel had grumbled about being ‘in ecstasy’ or ‘on ecstasy’ for it. And there was definitely a picture of floating around the internet of him in a collar at what definitely looked like an underground rave.

The real reason Jaskier listened to Kaer Morhen Radio was the late night DJ. 10pm on the dot, Eskel would flick the switch and a prerecorded intro played, announcing that it was Late Late Nights with Geralt. Between 10pm and 6am, Geralt manned the station. The only reason Jaskier knew his name was because of the intro. Otherwise the man was silent other than a few hums between songs. Sometimes, presumably when he knocked something over, there would be a growled “fuck” that listeners lived for.

As little as Geralt said, Jaskier was in love. The music was eclectic and death metal could be followed up by electro swing or grime. There was to way to predict just what Geralt would play next, he didn’t take requests, didn’t talk to his listeners. But, somehow, he still drew them in. Jaskier had made the mistake of looking Geralt up online and swooned a little at the few pictures available. It seemed Geralt was an elusive man, somehow managing to turn away from cameras with an uncanny ability. Though a few pictures did exist of Lambert and Eskel on either side of him, quite literally holding him down for a photo.

Truthfully, Geralt was one of the main reasons Jaskier chose to do overnight hauls. Not only did they pay better, he also had Geralt’s nonverbal grunts and hmms to look forward to. He was well aware that it was an infatuation and nothing more. He’d never met Geralt before, Geralt wasn’t even aware of his existence. So, really, Jaskier could daydream all he wanted but had no intention of doing anything more.

Except, Jaskier couldn’t help but wonder. Geralt had such range in his musical taste, maybe he would like what Jaskier wrote. It was a rare night off and Jaskier was well into the bottle with Valdo when they got talking, egging each other on about who was the better musician. It ended with Jaskier drunkenly posting a CD of his music to Kaer Morhen Radio, addressed for Geralt. When he woke up in the morning, on the floor next to his couch which was occupied by Valdo, Jaskier groaned.

Thankfully, there was never a mention or even a single note of his music in the next week. Slowly, Jaskier relaxed, only a little disappointed that his music hadn’t even been acknowledged by Geralt. He almost had a heart attack when eight days later, Lambert came on air with a mad cackle.

“Morning fuckheads!” Lambert sounded more cheery than ever before. “You’ll never guess what I found. Geralt has been hoarding new music. Good music. Said it was for him. Well, I have decided he cannot hold this back from us. If you’re listening, Jaskier, your note was hilarious. I hope your hangover was worth it. Thanks for the CD!”

There was a growl that sounded like Geralt storming into the booth but the microphone was cut and Jaskier’s song started playing. Jaskier almost crashed his truck in shock. Especially when Lambert declared it so good, they would play it again and, sure enough, the song went back to the beginning to play twice in a row.

If it had just been Lambert, Jaskier would have quietly died of shame, accepting that he was being mocked. But Eskel got in on it too. That afternoon he introduced Jaskier’s song with the promise that management were looking into getting in touch with him about the music. Even worse, a listener even requested the song later that evening. Jaskier was both in heaven and hell at the same time. That night, Geralt didn’t play his song and Jaskier was only a little disappointed.

His phone rang the next day.

“Good afternoon, my name is Vesemir, I’m calling from Kaer Morhen Radio. May I speak to Jaskier?”

Jaskier promptly choked. He got an invitation to the studio. It was a good seven days of driving away and Jaskier searched for a contract that would take him across the continent. While he drove, he got a bit braver and started e-mailing the radio station on his breaks.

His written request for songs were acknowledged by a hum and the song coming on next. When he asked Geralt for a shout out, he got obnoxious pop music playing instead. So Jaskier asked for two hums if Geralt wanted to meet and three if he didn’t. Thus, there was a “fuck” on air and the Beauty and the Beast theme song started playing. It was safe to say Jaskier didn’t understand it but he wasn’t deterred.

By the time Jaskier got into town and made his delivery, it was almost 6am. There was no time he had been specifically invited for and he ended up approaching the building at the same time Lambert showed up with Aiden and three large cups of coffee in hand.

“Excuse me,” he called out, “I’m here to see Vesemir.”

“Bit early for that.”

“He never gave me a time so I figured an early start would be appreciated.” It wasn’t exactly a lie but Jaskier kind of wanted to meet Geralt who would be finishing up soon.

For some bizarre reason, Jaskier was led into the radio studio, no questions asked. Surely it was a security issue but then again, Jaskier checked out Lambert and Aiden, they would no doubt be able to handle any issues. Then there was Geralt, stepping out of the booth, Lambert’s intro queued up. He froze when he spotted Jaskier and, curiously, glanced away, seemingly all shy. The curious response was explained away all too soon. There, on the wall, was Jaskier’s CD and a polaroid of him and Valdo, helpfully labeled “The Talent” with an arrow to Jaskier and “The Fake” pointing at Valdo.

“You here for Vesemir?” Geralt asked eventually, sipping at one of the cups Lambert had brought.

“Amongst other things,” Jaskier replied.

“He won’t be here until 10. Why don’t we go grab breakfast while you wait?”

Aiden wolf whistled at that and Lambert whooped, arms in the air.

“My dear fuckheads,” he purred into the microphone, “we have a date between our local cryptid and our mystery siren. Please wish them luck.”

It turned out that, in person, Geralt was a bit more talkative than on air. And Jaskier helped fill any silence without any problems. He ended up being later than planned to meet Vesemir and Tissaia who had a very handsome cheque for him for playing his music and also his phone number with the promise of passing it on to some connections who had expressed an interest in his music.

Never before had Jaskier thought he would thank Valdo Marx for anything. But, one drinking session with him had landed Jaskier with not only a contract with a record label but also a boyfriend. With his first pay, Jaskier send Valdo the biggest bouquet of flowers humanly possible.

#geraskier #laiden #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #aiden #eskel #radio au #long post #tldr: jaskier drives a truck while geralt is a dj

[reinvent-and-believe]

15 for the touch prompts :)

@major-trouble also requested this one! :)

Neither of you specified a pairing so here, have some ot3 softness!

-

It’s fine, is the thing.

It’s not even that anything bad happened. Jaskier’s been working on the new album for the past week—a process which has consisted mainly of making a Pinterest board entitled ✨vibes✨ to visually represent the album’s desired aesthetic then scrolling through social media for a few hours before giving in, opening Spotify and helping that rat bastard’s ratings even more.

It’s not that he still has feelings for said rat bastard Valdo Marx; their relationship had been a short-lived, tumultuous thing several years past. Jaskier couldn’t be happier than he is now, romantically speaking; never has been happier than this.

It’s just that Marx’s album is good.

Damn good, unfortunately. Better than anything Jaskier’s ever dreamed of writing (how is it even possible that a person so shallow and generally terrible can write lyrics with such depth?). It’s so good that every time Jaskier sits down at the piano or gets his guitar or even looks at his lovely red leather songwriting journal (a gift from Geralt, one he adores), he inevitably recalls a particularly ingenious lyric crooned in that familiar, smarmy voice.

By the time Yennefer gets home, he’s worked himself into a neurotic, self-loathing mess, lying on the couch with his phone blaring Marx’s stupid perfect song right next to his ear, pondering whether he should just stop writing for good. She doesn’t comment; she simply opens a bottle of wine, pours two glasses, and joins him in the living room.

“Honey, I’m home,” she says with a sardonic grin, handing him the wine glass and clinking them together before snatching his phone and turning the stupid perfect song off.

She pulls off her black satin blazer and the perfectly tailored white blouse and steps out of her ridiculously high heels until she’s left in a white lace camisole, pencil skirt and tights. Jaskier can’t help smiling at the way she strips her armor away once she’s reached the safe haven of their little flat. God, he loves her.

“Scooch.”

He complies, making room on the couch. She sits, settling with her feet in his lap and draping a blanket over them both.

Yen doesn’t ask about his day, but she does drink wine with him and turn on the Great British Baking Show without Jaskier requesting it, and she doesn’t even tease him when he gets choked up during the elimination. Instead, she cards long, immaculate fingernails through the hair at the nape of his neck.

And when Geralt gets home two episodes later, in the middle of the showstopper round, he’s carrying a familiar bag Jaskier immediately recognizes as coming from his favorite Chinese takeout place on the other side of town. Jaskier sits between them, a lover pressed against him on each side, Geralt still in his scrubs from the vet center and Yen with her softest blanket around her shoulders. They pass boxes of kung pao chicken and potstickers and fried rice and pepper steak back and forth, and it’s messy and silly and fucking delicious.

And after they finish eating, Geralt works the knots out of Jaskier’s neck and shoulders while Yennefer leans against his chest and texts him memes that he can definitely already see on her phone screen.

And really, that’s better than talking about his day.

#geraskefer #geralt x yennefer x jaskier #the witcher fic #i just love them okay???? #sometimes the pamperer needs some pampering #major-trouble #saltbellsblood #thanks for sending this friends! #also i never write modern au on this account for some reason??? #but oh well! #today i do! #my fic #asks

[bloededhoine]

world building cause twn doesn't pt. 1: the northern realms

okay i'm making this because 1 witcher netflix is the most convoluted and confusing thing i've ever seen and does literally no world building and 2 special interest make autism brain go brr.

basic info

this is gonna be a multi part series about the witcher universe but this is all about the northern realms!

ciri's timeline in twn encompasses the entirety of the first northern war, beginning with the attack on cintra and ending with the battle at sodden

this is just covering the human portions of the north. i'll talk about vergen, brokilon, and dol blathanna later

colour code cause i fucking love colour codes - already happened/introduced, probably s2, important background info, stuff that might be in the prequel, extras

general

so the entire witcher takes place on the continent

it's divided into multiple kingdoms, vassal states, and territories

now borders change a lot but this is the general idea before the first northern war (started 1263 with the invasion of cintra but we'll get more into that later)

also important to note that the show ends in 1264 with geralt meeting ciri in sodden

i'm sorry, i don't have quite enough spoons for an image discription for that map, but if someone wants to take over i'll link it here!

maps not mine, reddit link here

the continent is mainly divided between south and north, with nilfgaard and its dependencies and vassal states (including toussaint, mettina, vicovaro, nazair) in the south and the northern realms (redania, temeria, kaedwen, aedirn, lyria and rivia, cidaris, kovir and poviss, and creyden) in the north

aedirn

this is where yennefer is from! more specifically, it's capital vengerberg. as of twn, its king is virfuril. he's briefly name dropped in blood of elves and assassins of kings, you might remember him dancing with yennefer in the ball.

[I.D: picture of white man with a light brown beard and moustache. he is wearing a gold shirt and a gold crown. he is smiling slightly and has blue eyes. end I.D.]

that's him right there. for some extra trivia he's the 15th king of aedirn, his son is demavend III and his grandson is stennis

aedirn is mainly manufacturing. in the north (upper aedirn), dwarves control the continent's best mines. the south produces more finished goods like textiles, weapons, and dyes

for some notable aedirnians we have yennefer, saskia/saesenthessis (borch three jackdaws/villentretenmirth's daughter), letho, aplegatt, and seltkirk

aedirnian cities include vengerberg, gulet, and hagge

next up - redania!

as of the first northern war, redania's king was vizimir II. i don't think we saw him in twn, but i could be wrong. redania is known for having the best intelligence network on the continent, along with control of the best farmland

redania is a super important kingdom, and we've already met quite a few important redanians and will probably meet a lot more.

dandelion/jaskier, chireadan, shani, philippa eilhart, sigi dijkstra are all redanian

redanian cities - novigrad, oxenfurt (home of oxenfurt academy, dandelion's alma mater), tretogor (the capital), blaviken, and rinde

for temeria!

we briefly visited temeria in the episode with the striga (adda the white). as of the first northern war, the king is foltest. he lives in the capital vizima (controlled by nilfgaard in wild hunt). that's him right there

[I.D: photo of an older, overweight white man. he is wearing gold armour and a gold crown. he has a grey beard and is scowling. end I.D]

temeria (especially foltest) is notoriously xenophobic and racist. but, it is one of the best places for sorceresses as its home to thanedd isle and aretuza.

temeria controls the mahakaman mountains, and therefore some of the most prosperous mines in the continent. these mines, along with highly developed agricultural and trade systems, make temeria mad rich

a lot of my favourites are temerian we have keira metz, vernon roche, thaler, *barf* triss merigold, codringher and fenn, jan natalis, and ves

temeria has a lot of important cities like gors velen, vizima (also spelled wyzim or wyzima), and maribor. there's also some territories/provinces like brugge, ellander, maribor, sodden, and velen

kaedwen

kaedwen is in the far north west, and is where the witcher fortress of kaer morhen is located. kaedwen is always feuding with aedirn over control of the pontar valley, a profitable area on the kaedweni-aedirnian border. as of the first northern war, kaedwen is ruled by king henselt, who might have been name dropped once or twice in twn i dont really remember.

kaedwen is very cold, a large portion of it is the blue, kestrel, and fiery mountains. it's also home to ban aard, which is basically the aretuza for boys and where stregobor taught istredd

the only really notable kaedwenis are sabrina glevissig (that's her in twn) and cregennan of lod

[I.D: photo of a young white woman with blonde hair tied back. she is wearing a low cut blue dress and has a blank expression. end I.D]

some kaedweni cities are ban aard, ard carraigh, lod, and ban gleán

kaedwen, temeria, aedirn, and redania make up the four kingdoms, a group of human-majority states that nilfgaard really likes attacking. the northern wars are pretty much all nilfgaard vs the northern kingdoms, since most smaller realms are usually absorbed into either the north or south, but that doesn't mean they're not important!

cintra

twn gave us a solid introduction to cintra, which as you know was ruled by queen calanthe. her suicide after the nilfgaardian invasion was basically the first major casualty of the first northern war. cintra then became a nilfgaardian dependency, ruled by emperor emhyr var emreis

notable cintrians - princesses cirilla fiona elen rhiannon and pavetta fiona elen, angoulême, and the house of attre

cintra isn't very big, but does have the provence attre and cities like erlenwald and cintra (the capital)

cidaris

ruled by king ethain, one of the many people calanthe betrothed to ciri and then was like lol nevermind. also includes the province bremervoord, which is ruled by duke agloval and supported by the harvesting and trade of pearls

notable cidarians - dorregary, valdo marx, and vilgefortz (thats him there)

[ID: photo of a young south-asian man with black slicked back hair and a moustache. he is wearing medieval armour and i can't quite tell what his expression is. end ID]

cidarian cities include vole, roggeveen, and cidaris (the capital)

hengfors league

a group of 4 city states (caingorn, malleore, barefield, and cinfrid) that are ruled by king niedamir from the capital hengfors

notable residents include queen hedwig, boholt and the reavers, and deidre ademeyn

from what i've found all the city states have a capital of the same name

lyria and rivia

these are a little complicated, but basically lyria and rivia are the two main kingdoms of the confederation of realms in the dol angra valley. as of twn, queen meve of lyria and king reginald of rivia are married, therefore uniting the two realms

in the summer, the capital is lyria and in the winter it's rivia. lyria is also primarily agricultural while rivia is more industrial

queen meve is really the only important one here

kovir and poviss

kingdom in the far north that is responsible for the most exporting of minerals on the continent. as of the first northern war it is ruled by esterad thyssen

notable residents include stregobor, renfri, sheala de tancarville, coën, and istredd

important cities - creyden, tancarville, lan exeter, aedd gynvael, and thwyth

skellige

skellige is different from the other northern kingdoms in a few ways. one, it's not really a kingdom but a collection of 7 clans each led by a specific jarl. a clan is based on kinship, and the jarl rules them. what's confusing here is that there's also a jarl of skellige, who is in charge of the entire archipelago's armed forces. the king or queen of skellige is chosen by all of the jarls to help unify the clans against nilfgaard

skellige is also the only island kingdom. its an archipelago to the west of cintra, but is almost always allied to the north

the clans are brokvar, an craite, dimun, drummond, heymaey, tordarroch, and tuirseach, and they generally each occupy a specific island

the main islands are ard skellig (an craite and drummond), an skellig (tuirseach), faroe (dimun), hindarsfjall (heymaey), spikeroog (brokvar), and undvik (tordarroch)

some skelligers - crach an craite, eist tuirseach (that's him there), mousesack/ermion, draig bon-dhu, cerys and hjalmar an craite, and birna bran

[ID: photo of a middle-aged white man with dark brown hair and light stubble. he is wearing a gold doublet and has some sweat on his forehead. he appears slightly drunk. end ID]

tldr: as of the first northern war, the main northern kingdoms are virfuril's aedirn, vizimir's redania, foltest's temeria, and henselt's kaedwen

thank you so much for reading this! i'm definitely gonna make more parts and will link them here when i do!

#the witcher #twn #the witcher netflix #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #aedirn #redania #kaedwen #geraskier #geraskefer #temeria #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt x yennefer #yennefer x jaskier #idk what tags i should use #mine #gen tag #lore tag #haven't got a fucking queue

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

GERASKIER ENCHANTED AU

oh. okay. yeah, I can do that. I can dig that.

Jaskier is Giselle, obviously. Nobody else has a bottomless well of optimism from which to draw quite like our fav. fandom idiot bard. 

James Marsden can keep his role as Generic Prince Charming because I think it’s fucking hilarious and nothing about that performance needs to be changed.

Also, because we don’t vilify Yennefer in this house, the evil stepmother will now be Stregobor in drag. Trixie Mattel and Bianca Del Rio are in charge of his makeup, hair, and wardrobe. 

Jasky-boy arrives at the palace in his Best Animal-Made Wedding Duds, ready to spend the rest of his life singing with his himbo husband.

Uh oh! It’s time for some Stregobor shenanigans...

When Jaskier is yeeted into the future, he’s discovered by Ciri and her father, the grumpy no-nonsense divorce lawyer Geralt deRiv. They take him in and let him sleep on their couch.

“He looks like a Prince! Look at his fancy outfit! It has ruffles everywhere and it’s so sparkly!” - Ciri

“Yeah, honey, he’s a deranged Broadway wannabe, probably... feeling icky. Let’s get you to bed.”

When Yen arrives in the morning to take Ciri to school, she sees Jaskier getting out of the shower and freaks out at Geralt for being an irresponsible co-parent. 

Also Jaskier has made an entirely new outfit out of their curtains; it looks damn good and it really highlights Jaskier’s butt and legs but like... those were expensive curtains.

Jaskier misunderstands Geralt and Yen’s current relationship status and tries to give his begrudging host some romantic advice, leading to:

“How Does She Know” sequence in Central Park. Not getting rid of that, no thank you. 

Y’all know the subplot with the Evil Sidekick (Valdo Marx, perhaps?) and the Chipmunk and the Prince... 

Meanwhile Jaskier keeps helping Geralt’s clients solve their marital issues, so his workload is shrinking and he ends up spending more time with Ciri. 

Geralt realizes how nice it is to have a family like this.

Jaskier, acting on his own and mildly heartbroken because this adorable single dad is trying his best and he can hold an intelligent conversation and he’s witty and kind and hot damn I don’t really want to marry the Prince... sends Yennefer flowers from Geralt and buys them tickets to a themed dance.

Ciri figures out what’s going on between her Dad and this strange fairytale character and decides to do her thing, getting Jaskier a makeover and having a fun day on the town with him. 

Jaskier goes to the ball and is on the verge of confessing his feelings to Geralt before Stregobor appears, desperate to keep this silly bard from taking his throne and also unaware of the situational change. 

Jaskier falls under his sleeping curse and the Prince desperately tries to wake him up. It doesn’t work. Why doesn’t it work!?

Geralt has an oh shit moment in the crowd, suddenly realizing how miserable he’s been all day without Jaskier there to make jokes and chat with. 

Rushes to his side, kisses him on the lips, and Jaskier wakes up.

Yay! Magic and true love are real! Streggy Bitch gets his ass handed to him by everyone, Yennefer rolls her eyes but enjoys the free food at the dance (and also maybe bumps into a mysteriously attractive brunette woman...) and has a good time.

Cue that Kelly Clarkson earworm they recorded for the credits sequence.

#bounceacoinoffyouranons #enchanted au #geraskier #geraskier enchanted au #geraskier headcanon #geraskier fluff #enchanted #movie aus #fluff #soft #modern and fairytale #modern au #fairytale au #stregobitch can burn #renfri could be the chipmunk tbh