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annmarcus63 · 1 year

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It's unconventional to live with a terminal illness for a long time. Jaskier, of course, has always been unconventional. Barely a year after meeting Geralt, Jaskier began to taste perfume on his tongue. Not long after, he began to pick out delicate little petals from between his teeth. But he gave it no thought, the perfume and the petals meant fresh flowery breath. Some maidens compliment his hygiene in comparison with the rotten breath of her husbands. Things became worrying when he woke up one night gasping, something was in his throat, he stuck his fingers inside to pried the petal out, a full yellow petal followed by a string of spit. Jaskier is filled with fear and denial which prompt him to search for a healer in the next village he visits with Geralt.

I need supplies, he said. I can get them for you, the witcher offered. No! thank you darling but you wouldn't know what kind of strings and scented oils I require to be this talented and fetching, the bard lied. The healer said he got hanahaki disease at an early stage. There's no cure but to give up the love he had for that person. But how could he? Love is not meant to be controlled or selective. Days after, Geralt saved a girl from the claws of some sick bandits that kidnapped her one week before, he was kind and patient with her, even if she couldn't stop crying to tell them where she lives. In that moment Jaskier concluded that he'd die for loving Geralt.

Years on, the disease grows to full flowers and the occasional stems that irritates his throat. He uses the flowers as decoration on his outfits, sometimes weaving them into crowns or into Roach's mane. Acacias, Lilies, Orchids and chrysanthemums, Dahlias, Freesias and some others he doesn't recognize. After a while he can make full bouquets to gifted to Geralt, he washes the blood and spit first of course. The witcher grimaces but accepts them with no complaints. Yennefer and him had a fight over telling Geralt or getting away to find someone else. You want him all to yourself, Jaskier yells. Don't be an idiot, you'd die!, the witch screams back. What is it to you? I'll die sooner or later anyways.

He weaves flowers in Ciri's hair too. It's not until the flowers begin to clog his airways that he knows he's almost there. He doesn't have much time. Geralt notices and he's worried, he confronts the bard about it too many times but Jaskier doesn't tell him. He's pale and weak the day he faints next to Geralt. The truth is revealed, Geralt is furious and feels betrayed but most of all is scared of losing Jaskier. Geralt offers to go on dates with him, to court him and make an effort. So you can forget them, he says, forget them and love me. Oh, darling, that's the problem, says Jaskier with tears in his eyes.

#geraskier #jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #hanahaki disease #mine #I need hanahaki disease fanfics to be happy #tag me if you know one #also is there someone here who speaks spanish and is willing to share their geraskier obsession with me #i need friends as crazy as me #the witcher netflix

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greyshadowfaux · 1 year

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Missing little Lambert :(

Aw, me too.

Leaning side by side in the shade of the castle walls, Vesemir and Eskel watch as Lambert and Jaskier destroy the first patch of wildflowers that has appeared through the melted snow of the courtyard.

Face pinked from the cold and looking rather pleased with himself, Jaskier brings his collection of weeds over to show them. He’s waddling around the sheer amount of layers Eskel has dressed him in, and Vesemir can smell that he needs changing, but Jaskier doesn’t seem to mind. Lambert, also rugged up to the nines and stepping in every damn puddle he finds, wrinkles his nose as he follows Jaskier across the courtyard, his own (slightly more battered) flowers in hand.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Jaskier looks shyly up at Eskel, before offering the colourful bouquet. Eskel gives a pleased rumble, and Vesemir enjoys the way his scent spikes with joy and affection for the small pup.

‘Did you pick those for me pup?’ Eskel asks, and Jaskier nods, his cheeks blushing an even brighter shade of pink as Eskel takes the flowers carefully, giving an exaggerated sniff. ‘They’re beautiful, Jaskier. Such a sweet, good boy.’ Scooping Jaskier into a cuddle, Eskel smothers the pup in kisses as Jaskier squeals with delight.

Lambert, standing a little further back and watching the interaction between Jaskier and Eskel with interest, looks down at his own bouquet, and then up at Vesemir. Vesemir waits, watching as his pup looks back down at his flowers, brow creased and clearly thinking hard.

Looking once more at Vesemir, Lambert seems to make a decision.

Stuffing the handful of flowers into his mouth, Lambert takes off across the courtyard, his laughter muffled by dirt and leaves. Cursing, Vesemir leaves Jaskier and Eskel to their bonding and chases after him.

#the witcher #little lambert #little jaskier #papa vesemir #papa eskel #Lambert is a little shit

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astaldis · 1 year

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Ostara - Tulips

@witcherwheeloftheyear

"Tada!" He holds a bouquet of flowers into her face. Tulips. Fresh from the flower beds surrounding the island cottage. The first ones that have opened their buds. They smell like a sunny spring day. They are beautiful.

"They are purple." Jaskier grins at her meaningfully.

"I see that. I might still be a little feeble from what happened and not ready to crawl out of bed just yet,” Yennefer says, taking the flowers from his hand. “But that doesn't mean I'm feeble-minded. I have eyes.” She holds the tulips to her nose and inhales deeply. They are lovely indeed. However, teasing the bard is just too much fun. And he seems to be in a playful mood, too. He almost always is.

"Exactly, you have eyes.” He looks at her fondly. “But have you ever thought of it? Not only have your eyes the same purple colour as the tulips, Yennefer. You are a tulip."

"I'm a what, bard?” Astonished, Yennefer raises one of her perfect eyebrows. “A tulip? Not a wonderfully gorgeous, extravagant, velvety wine-red rose? Should I be insulted? No man has ever likened me to a tulip.”

“But you are, my dear.” Jaskier smirks mysteriously. “The tulipest tulip a man could possibly dream of. It's the perfect metaphor, darling.”

“And how exactly am I a tulip?” Yennefer asks, intrigued and amused at the same time.

“Well, first you were arrogant and closed up tight, but all of a sudden you opened up your petals to me, and wooom. Like a tulip in spring for the hungry bumblebee.” He smiles dreamily at the black-haired beauty in his bed. "I'm sure to write a ballad about it. Let's call it 'The tulip and the bumblebee.' No, not catchy. Let me think.” He frowns as if deep in thought, however, the amused smile playing around his lips tells Yennefer that Jaskier has already given the title some serious consideration and that he is only teasing her. “What about 'Of Tulips and Kisses'? Right, boring. ‘Where the tulips grow’? Nah, even more boring.” He rolls his eyes in his typical Jaskier manner that is both annoying and endearing at the same time. Then he pretends to have an idea all of a sudden that lights up his face. “Yes, that’s it! 'Of Tulips and Tits.’ Catchy and sexy. Sure to be an instant hit!"

"I'll give you an instant hit on the head if you write a song about my tits, bard!" Yennefer threatens with mock-indignation, brandishing the tulips at him.

"Oh, it's not going to be a song, darling.” Jaskier takes the imperilled flowers from her and puts them in the vase on the nightstand. “I'll write the most beautiful serenade about your marvellous tits,” he continues with his typical Jaskier enthusiasm. “No, not a serenade, a whole symphony. You'll love it, I promise!"

Now it is Yennefer who rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. Her uniquely beautiful eyes of the identical purple colour as the tulips. “I should never have fallen in love with a poetaster,” she grumbles, but gives in more than willingly, when Jaskier plants a kiss on her eager lips. And another one. And another ...

And she does love it, eventually, as much as she loves her bard.

Preview of chapter 8 of ‘Where the tulips grow’. Read the story on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45159151

(Chapters 1-7 are already published, chapter 8 will be in about 2 weeks, real life is horribly busy at the moment so I only managed to finish this little snippet in time for Ostara.)

#witcherwheeloftheyear #ostara #tulips #wwoty #yenskier #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #the witcher netflix #witcher rarepair #yennefer x jaskier #joey batey #anya chalotra #yennskier #jaskier x yennefer #witcher wip

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major-trouble · 2 years

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Ok! Title for ficlet, yay. I'll give you a few to choose from because I know that inspiration can be fickle. And then you write whatever ship you want.

A Lower Form of Magic

Secret Worlds

I Love You More

(Ok I cheated by making one the title of a TAD song) XD

Oh! I liked that first one, so here you go.

A Lower Form of Magic

He called himself an illusionist.

Out of thin air he could make the most intricate shadows appear: butterflies; birds; bouquets of flowers; whole herds of prancing ponies. He spun the shadows like silk, wove them into being, set them loose to delight his audiences.

It made him happy, knowing that these little magics pulled laughter and smiles from even the most stoic of faces. And he was content with that, even though his teachers would have scoffed at him, calling what he did the most basic form of chaos, even going so far as to say that it was a mockery of what he could have been.

But he was happy. Those little illusions of shadow that disappeared as they were cut through by light, softly melting back whence they came, reminded him that nothing was permanent. Nothing was perfect. And nothing returned to nothing, eventually. He was content with his life, though it was a little boring to be by himself.

He still craved adventure. Once, he’d wanted to be something more - someone more. But he liked being a simple magician. So, instead of Julian, Mage of the Brotherhood, he was Jaskier, Hedge-Wizard.

When he’d met the Witcher, at first he’d been suspicious, certain that someone had sent the dark-haired man after him. But Eskel had been only curious, the scars on his face making his smile lopsided as Jaskier moved his hands, pulling the shadows to wrap around them and form into an enormous winged bat, setting it free to flap upwards and circle around the campfire.

“I’ve never seen a mage do anything like that before,” he’d remarked, his soft voice sounding genuinely awed as the bat flew higher into the treetops before spiralling away and breaking up under the light of the moon.

“Yes, well, most don’t see the point in such small magics,” Jaskier had replied, grinning despite himself. “They only want to see things in terms of the grandiose. If it isn’t extravagant and impressive, it’s not worth doing!”

Eskel laughed. “You don’t seem like most mages.”

Jaskier blinked. “I’m not really a mage. I’m more of an illusionist.” To his surprise, the Witcher hadn’t questioned him.

They’d travelled together, for a time, Jaskier entertaining the children - and sometimes adults - in town squares while Eskel bargained for contracts. It was an odd, but satisfying sort of companionship, as they shared coin and meals and eventually a bed.

Jaskier should have known it wouldn’t last.

There had been rumours - Nilfgaard was marching. Eskel had wanted to stay out of it, and Jaskier had agreed, until they’d stumbled directly into the middle of a battle and had to make a choice. Help the handful of innocent villagers about to be slaughtered by the advancing Golden Sun fanatics, or leave.

There was never really a choice.

The Witcher was a dancer with a blade and he made it look so easy as he surged through the ranks of black-clad infantry, but even one so skilled could be overwhelmed by sheer numbers. He fought as well as he could, cleaving through one soldier after another, making of himself a shield so the villagers could flee to the relative safety of the woods beyond their reach.

When he started to falter, Jaskier drew shadows from the air, using them to confuse and distract so that Eskel could escape too. But despite his heightened senses, his faster reflexes and his inhuman stamina, he couldn’t predict the movement of every blade on a battlefield. One slipped under his arm, stabbing into the soft, unprotected flesh there and bringing him to his knees.

The anger that Jaskier kept so carefully wrapped up within himself broke free as he watched Eskel fall. The shadows became solid. Instead of vague shapes, they became reflections of the men around them and in their hands formed blades of deepest black. Chaos crackled through the air, filling the void behind the shadow-figures’ eyes, burning a deep blue, like the hottest flame. With a wordless cry, Jaskier raised his hands, setting his creations loose upon the soldiers. They tore through their human counterparts like paper, the soldiers’ swords slicing through them with no effect.

After the screaming faded, Jaskier rushed to Eskel’s side, dragging the unconscious Witcher away from the carnage that surrounded them. So occupied with trying to revive his wounded love, Jaskier didn’t see the other mage. All he knew was a sharp pain behind his eyes and the scalding feeling of manacles on his wrists.

Waking in the darkness of a cell, it took him a long time to remember what had happened. Fighting against the rising panic, Jaskier tried to summon the shadows, to make them obey his will again. But as soon as they formed in his palm, the shadows melted away - he couldn’t hold onto them. He poured his will into them, trying again to keep them together, but the manacles on his hands glowed a sullen purple, breaking up his chaos. He cursed them, nearly sobbing in his frustration.

“That’s not going to work,” a voice drawled from the other side of the bars.

Jaskier’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed as he took in his captor. “Fringilla. How lovely to see you after all this time. I don’t suppose this is a social visit?” he asked cheerfully.

Fringilla’s smile was gentle, despite the coldness in her eyes. “I would wish for a more auspicious occasion to see you again, Julian, but these are unprecedented times.” She tilted her head to the side, the black braids of her hair shifting as she regarded him. She looked exactly as he remembered, dark skin unblemished in the firelight, eyes cold and calculating, full lips drawn into what seemed like an indulgent smile.

Everything about Fringilla reminded him of a place and time he’d rather forget. Her’s was a cold beauty etched into each line of her skin, from sharp cheekbones to delicate nails. And she watched him like he was a pawn waiting to be set precisely in its place on the board.

He’d never been one to do as he was told.

“Whatever you think I’m going to do for you, isn’t going to happen,” he said, keeping that false cheer in his voice.

In response, her smile deepened. “Oh Julian, I’m not asking you to do anything. You will serve me and the Great Flame whether you want to or not.” Despite her words, her voice was still warm, conversational even, as she spoke.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “I hardly see how that’s possible,” he snorted.

She shook her head, like he was a particularly difficult child. “The masters never understood what you were - what you are. The potential that lies in the heart of you.” She stepped closer to him, wrapping her hands around the bars and bringing her face nearer to his. “But I do.”

“What does that mean?” he asked, in spite of himself.

“You’re a source, Julian. A well of chaos. Through you I can channel so much more. I can dredge it from the earth, from the very air around us.” She laughed softly. “And you’ve been using it to conjure illusions. Little party tricks to amuse yourself.”

Jaskier couldn’t help it, he gaped at her, unable to parse what she was saying. “I’m a what?” he asked, stupidly.

Fringilla stepped back, smoothing her hands down the folds of her dress in a self-conscious gesture as she sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand. You were always so oblivious to the world around you.” She turned, seeming to dismiss him as she moved away from his cell.

“Wait! Please Fringilla! Tell me what that means!” Jaskier yelled after her retreating footsteps. The door at the end of the hallway closed with a loud clang, leaving him with only the light from a single torch and the dull glow from the manacles still wrapped around his aching wrists. “I don’t understand,” he whispered.

“I do,” came a gruff voice from beside him, nearly causing him to fall over in startlement. A face peered out through the bars in the cell to his right, golden eyes slit like a cat’s surrounded by a greasy mop of unwashed and distinctly white hair. “But I’m not sure you’re going to like the answer.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jaskier squawked, trying to get his breathing under control.

The other man huffed what could have been a laugh. “Thought the hair would have given it away,” he grumbled. “Geralt. Of Rivia.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. “Eskel’s brother.”

It was Geralt’s turn to look shocked. “How do you know Eskel?”

It took everything in him not to laugh in relief. Another Witcher. Just his luck. “If you can help me get out of here, I’ll tell you. If he’s still alive, that is.”

“What do you mean if?” Geralt demanded.

“It’s a very long story, but I promise to tell it if you get us out of here.”

Geralt hummed and nodded. Jaskier sighed.

It was going to be a very long night.

#give me title I write you a fic #tag game #the witcher #jaskier #eskel #geralt #fringilla #the major writes

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proelio-procusi · 2 years

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𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆'𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔: 𝑮𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑪 𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬

Lyria

carmilla. giant featherbeds. tightening a corset. moonlit walks. killing for love. cruelty for the sake of love. love is always selfish. romantic tragedy. love to the brink of destruction. nighttime rendezvous. bloody kisses on soft skin. death was the maiden. a very strange agony. claimed by the supernatural. dreaming about your lover. sympathy for the devil. loving me to death. candlesticks lighting up the palm of your hand. a passion that wearies you. killing the one you love.

phantom of the opera. a single red rose laid out to be found. sensual voices singing them to sleep. a familiar shadow attending every recital. love waits on the rooftop in the night. two soulmates holding hands. walking down long corridors. retrieving something lost. devoting one’s craft to them. making them your muse. the horror was for love. painted faces on parade. gentle touches in the dark. revealing your darkest secrets. beauty and the beast. writing messages on the mirror. kindness conquers all. letting your lover go. love never dies.

jane eyre. loving the escape. an impassioned affair. being consumed by love. meeting your soulmate. lace and silk. thirsting for the perfect romance. marrying for passion. losing yourself in the face of your lover. wedding veils and bouquets of pink roses. maddened by love. finding warmth in the cold. calling out for your love. starting at the bottom. the fire cleanses all. hiding your passion.

the picture of dorian gray. painting a portrait or sketching the face of someone you love. meeting in secret. visions of your lover dying. clutching a lovers clothes to your chest. love so consuming you kill them. protecting their innocence at all costs. betrayal. polyamory. devotion. flowers for the one you love. remembering the name of your first love. jealousy when you see them with someone else. love so consuming you die for it. visiting the the place where you saw them the first time.

the count of monte cristo. letters to your lover. marrying for love. these bars can’t keep me from you. motivated by love. an avenging angel. scorching jealousy. love reborn. devoted to memory. it was all for you. going your separate ways. commit murder for me. an unstoppable hunger. death comes for us all.

dracula. the holiest love. girls love wolves. the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. violence is passion. red lips, sharp teeth. love letters in a diary. unrelenting support. getting lost in the woods. coming home to you. walking backwards into hell. vengeance for my love. even death won’t stop me. we can live forever. love is an open wound. too much love to give. bestowing your favor. a never-ending thirst. beauty even in death. ravenous desire. if only death had a heart to give. a mercy killing. these violent delights have violent ends.

frankenstein. childhood friends to lovers. they were something out of a dream. arranged marriages. learning to love. was it all really worth it? our guilt can know no bounds. vengeance, my love. dismembered body parts. my beating heart in your open palm. your death destroys me. adam and eve. crossing the mountains. an antagonist in mourning. paradise lost. the loss of innocence. abandoning your dream. the tempest on the horizon. humans are the real monsters. my love is wiser than my hate.

tagged by: @thelyss

tagging: @criticaldragons (Ashton) @musamulta (Jaskier) @matrixs-treasuryofmuses (your choice) @macabrepuppet and anyone else who wants to

#dash games #also feel free to tag me again for another muse if you'd like

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terresdebrume · 4 months

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WIP/Dormant fic projects list

Because I saw an ask game on @kat-anni's blog that essentially went 'list your WIPs and let people ask you questions about them' and I figured at the very least sharing this list here would give you an idea of our situation here. I've omitted some of my projects because they're more dormant and may be relegated to the abandoned project folder soon/they're projects series I only work on when a prompt makes me think of it.

Anyway, blue titles are for fics that I'm most likely to work on this year, either because they already have one complete draft (and therefore will be easier to finish) or because they fit my current obsession.

[Long fic] Ted Lasso: Bridgerton fusion

[Long fic] The Old Guard: Together, in the same direction

[OS] Band of Brothers: Joe’s first time bottoming

[OS] Good Omens: Aziraphale kidnaps Jesus

[Series] Band of Brothers: Driver!Joe verse

[OS] Babe and Bill bring the sex chair on vacation

[OS] David comes out as trans

[OS] David helps Don (Malarkey) move from Astoria to Frisco

[Series] Saint Seiya: Times Between Us

[OS] Deathmask grows a garden

[OS] Shaka’s POV before and after the pumpkin incident in The Green Teacup

[Series] Ted Lasso: Moving towards better

[OS] Bouquet Final (Aka: Jamie proposes at the world cup)

[Series] The Mortal Instruments: Immortal Instruments

[OS] The city of bones

[OS] Talking to Magnus after his party

[Series] The Witcher: Papa Mousesack

[OS] Winter – In which Mousesack finds Jaskier sleeping on his doorstep and offers him a temporary place to stay.

[OS] Spring – In which Mousesack slowly comes to realize and accept that Jaskier is not moving out any time soon

[OS] Summer – In which Mousesack and Jaskier settle into the fact that they’ve adopted each other as family

[OS] Autumn – In which Mousesack and Jaskier start thinking about their future together as father and son

[OS] Winter – In which Mousesack turns 50.

#Matt writes #Band of Brothers #The Old Guard #The Witcher #The Mortal Instruments #Saint Seiya #s: Times Between Us #s: Moving Towards Better #s: Limo Driver Joe #s: Papa Mousesack #Fic: Papa Mousesack #fic: together in the same direction

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thirillia · 4 years

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So, I was wondering, since “Jaskier” got translated in many languages, but I know from the English translation that it isn’t necessarily the same flower, I decided to look into that and compare flowers! (Please note that I am neither especially good with plants, nor do I speak all these languages. I’m just making a compilation of the google searches I have done in the last hour.)

First of all, Jaskier, according to my very elaborate *cough* research on google is this little flower:

What we need to know about it for this post is:

1. It’s yellow

2. It’s little

3. And it’s part of the buttercup- or crowfoot-family, also called Ranunculaceae

Let’s start simple:

1. Languages without translation

• French

• Portuguese

• Spanish

• Romanian

“Jaskier” it is for them!

2. Family name

• Dutch (“Ranonkel”)

• Italian (“Ranunculo”)

Apart from the fact that they sound a bit like dragon species in the How to train your Dragon universe, they don’t vary from the yellow flower up there much. They just use the plant family, but since these small yellow ones are usually the prime example for that family, this might be what they are getting at.

3. Mean the same flower

• Russian (“лютик”) - I like that it sounds like “lute”. A+

• Bulgarian (“Лютиче”) - theoretically a more distinct version of buttercup but it’s practically the same thing

• Lithuanian (“Vėdrynas”)

4. Lookalikes and passables

• Czech (“Marigold” - Yes that is going to get confusing with Triss) - whatever, it’s the same family, looks nearly identical, passes

• Slovak (“Blyskáč”) - it’s yellow, it’s tiny, same family, passes

• Serbian (“Neven”) - that one is actually mostly orange, but there are also yellow ones. It’s also not that tiny and it doesn’t belong in the same family, but I’m still going to let it slide.

5. Dandelions

• English (obviously)

• Turkish

• Japanese (“ダンデリオン” which should mean dandelion)

It’s yellow, it’s mostly not tiny and a different family, which makes it more related to the Serbian version but it still got its own category. But even with that it still works, I think. I like “Dandelion”.

6. What

• Let’s start this category with the reason I even started researching all this: the German translation!

“Rittersporn” - I actually really like this name. I think it sounds great. It translates into “Knights spur” or “Knights thorn” and even though I knew “Jaskier” first, I still love this version.

Still, the flowers, which bear this name look next to nothing like that buttercup up there.

Is it yellow? No it is not. Is it tiny? It probably reaches higher than I am tall. What it is, though, is being from the same family, but that’s not going to help it to look like a tiny yellow flower.

Putting that aside, I’m glad they didn’t translate buttercup directly, because in Germany these are called “Rooster feet”, which would not be flamboyant or flattering at all! They also could have just followed the English translation and used Dandelion, hence “Löwenzahn” in German (meaning lions tooth), but that flower is not really... that much of a burner in here? I can’t really describe it, but it would not fit that well.

• the Swedish version (“Riddarsporre”) is basically the same. I think even the translation might mean the same.

• Hungarian (“Kökörcsin”) - is it yellow? No. But is it tiny and belongs to the same family? Yes. Nevertheless, this does not look like a buttercup! Also, the German translation for this plant is “Kuhschelle”, which means “cows bell”, which is not surprising, considering the form or the petals.

• Ukrainian (“Любисток”) - it’s not yellow, it doesn’t even really have flowers, it’s also fairly big and it also does not belong in the buttercup-family. From what I gathered, this plant, in German is called “Liebstöckel” or “Luststock” which is.... interesting since that translates into “Love stake” or “Lust stick/stake”. Maybe they just went searching for a plant that respresented Jaskiers bedroom adventures. In which case the choice would be fair, but judging from the plant alone, this one doesn’t get a pass!

In conclusion, some translators look for fitting names within yellow tiny flowers, some just make shit up. But they are all interesting and very pretty flowers nonetheless! I think I like all of these. This has actually been really enjoyable. Even though I stayed up until 3am because of this.

Petition to give Jaskier a bouquet with one of every single one of those flowers in it. All his flowers in one place.

#give jaskier a bouquet #with all the flowers #two purple flowers #yen must be jealous #the bard is stealing her colour #the witcher #witcher netflix #wiedzmin #jaskier #dandelion #rittersporn #jaskier the bard #geralt of rivia #yennefer #thiris shitshow

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wishicouldpostfromsecondaryblogs · 2 years

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Yennefer deserves to be pined over, actually.

Geralt and Jaskier have gotten together and she smiles and congratulates them and gracefully backs away but now it feels empty without her. They're missing a cog in the wheel- they'd grown so close that without her it feels wrong.

So they flirt with her in the most EMBARRASSING ways ever. I'm talking Geralt brings her the heads of monsters for potion ingredients. I'm talking Jaskier sings about the nice things she's done and never wanted anyone to know about and makes the whole tavern sing along. They get drunk together and Jaskier is tearfully complimenting her and telling her that her eyes are beautiful and when the mortification and embarrassed delight becomes too much she turns to geralt for help, but he is drunkenly braiding her hair and frowns and only says "but your eyes are pretty" Yennefer is Dying.

#she doesnt know what to do!!! shes never had ppl who she trusts flirting with her #yen: they are in a relationship and even if i love them i cannot get between them and cause arguments #geralt and jaskier in the next room: loudly and violently arguing what flowers to put in the bouquet theyre going to give her #geraskefer #geraskier #yenralt #yennskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #let them PINE FOR HER THNKS

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flowercrown-bard · 2 years

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The reason why Jaskier is such a great singer is because he learned breath control early on as a child. He didn't know yet that you needed that for singing, no, he had a different motive for training his lungs. He loved wishing on dandelions, but surely a single dandelion only allowed for a small wish. One dandelion would make it so that he would find a cat he could befriend. Something inconsequential. But little Jaskier was convinced that the bigger the wish, the more dandelions he had to wish on. And so he trained to one day be able to make a wish worthy of a whole bouquet of dandelions.

It isn't until he meets Geralt that his lungs have grown strong enough to support such a wish. Uncharacteristically for him, he thinks long and hard about what sort wish he should make, until finally, he settles on wishing for Geralt's happiness.

The dandelion seeds dance in the wind and Geralt looks at Jaskier curiously as he asks him what he had wished for.

"The most important thing, my friend."

Geralt hums and there is a smile dancing across his lips as he watches Jaskier pluck some more dandelions. Jaskier is a dreamer. He wholeheartedly believes in the power of wishes, so it doesn't even cross his mind that maybe Geralt has his happiness already and that it isn't the dandelions that made it so.

Years later, Jaskier is gathering dandelions again. More than he ever had before, enough that he's afraid even his impressive set of lungs won't be enough to blow them all away and grant him his wish. But it's an important wish, a huge one, so he keeps gathering dandelions.

Geralt is watching him with an amused expression that does nothing to hide the softness in his eyes.

"What are you going to wish for?" Geralt asks, crossing the field of wildflowers until he is by Jaskier's side.

"I can't tell you or else it won't work." It might not work anyway, Jaskier's treacherously bearing heart supplies. You've kept this wish a secret for years and it still hasn't come true, no matter how many shooting stars or dandelions you wished on.

Jaskier ignores the voice of doubt and insecurity and stubbornly plucks another flower.

"You could paraphrase it," Geralt says. "You're good at describing things without outright saying them."

Jaskier hesitates. This might work.

"I'm wishing for my own happiness," Jaskier says.

Immediately, Geralt's brows furrorw. "Are you not happy? We can go to more towns if you're tired of the woods. Or we can find some festival for you to play at."

Something inside Jaskier softens.

"I am happy." With one hand, he takes home of Geralt's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "There's just one thing that would make me even happier."

"What is it?" There's an unknown eagerness to Geralt's voice and his eyes are searching Jaskier's face.

"Can't tell. Rules are rules." He winks at Geralt, takes a deep breath and releases all the air.

Dandelion seeds dance around them like snowflakes. Some get caught in their hair, some fly away like a flock of birds - and some stick to the flowers, refusing to be blown away.

Jaskier's face falls as he runs out of air and not all the stems in his hand are bare. It didn't work. He isn't good enough to make this wish.

"Hey," Geralt says softly, tilting Jaskier's chin up, so that he's looking at him instead of the sad dandelions. "Don't worry about it. We'll get your happiness." He hesitates. "Can you tell me what I need to do to make you happy now?"

Jaskier's throat is thick as he looks into Geralt's eyes, his open and warm expression. His wish didn't work. He has nothing to lose, no other way of getting what he so desperately wants.

"I wish you would kiss me." His voice is but a whisper, but Geralt hears it anyway.

His hand trails up to Jaskier's cheek, caressing it tenderly, before leaving him again. Without breaking eye contact, Geralt takes Jaskier's hand that is still holding the dandelions and lifts it up so it it almost at a hight with his face.

"See, that's why it didn't work," Geralt says. "We had to blow the dandelions together."

"What do you -"

"It wasn't only your wish." With that, Geralt blows on the remaining dandelions. The last seeds fly away. Jaskier's eyes follow them, but Geralt's head comes up again cupping his cheek and turning his face towards him.

And finally, finally, Jaskier's wish is granted. His two wishes, really. In the end, they both get their happiness.

#Idk what this is #Geraskier #Geralt #Jaskier #Fic #Ficlett #Witcher #The Witcher #My writing

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yeraskier · 2 years

Text

the one with geralt’s first valentine’s day

Flowers. There are flowers laid beside him on the bed, flowers where Jaskier should be— a bouquet of dandelions, roses, tulips, carnations and scorpion grasses. It’s an odd combination. It’s beautiful.

There’s a note tucked into it. Geralt sits up and plucks the piece of paper, immediately recognizing Jaskier’s neat script.

Roses are red, violets are blue / Be naked when I get back, so I can go down on you / Here’s a reminder / of my undying love for you

Yours always, Jaskier

“Moron,” Geralt scoffs, but it does nothing to rid the smile from his face.

Ever since they’ve started this… relationship of theirs, Jaskier has been showering him with small intimate gestures. They come when Geralt least expects them, and despite the surprises always leaving the witcher flustered, he prefers it this way.

Geralt gazes at the flowers and finds himself wishing he could kiss his bard.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Jaskier comes barging into the room, nearly toppling over with the weight of the large wooden tray in his hands.

“Oh good, you’re up!” Jaskier exclaims gleefully.

The tray is placed beside Geralt within seconds, giving him the opportunity to look at the spread that consists of most of his favorites.

“Your breakfast,” Jaskier informs as he plops down on the mattress, “my coin purse is much lighter than it was when I woke up this morning, but I’d happily go broke if it means getting to see the look on your face whenever sweets are around. Now go on, eat up. We have a long day ahead of us.”

Geralt reaches for a strawberry danish, much to Jaskier’s (and his own) satisfaction. “What are we doing today exactly?”

“Well…” And so, Jaskier begins reciting all the plans he’s made for them, each one more romantic than the last. “And when we get back to our room, you can have me any way you want.”

The witcher arches a brow, “isn’t that always the case?”

“True,” Jaskier says, “but tonight I’ll have a red bow tied around the base of my cock, so there’s that.”

Geralt’s suddenly tempted to say fuck it to today’s itinerary and keep Jaskier in bed all day. But he doesn’t, because the bard seems to have put a lot of thought into it.

Plus, Geralt may be looking forward to everything… especially the part about making flower crowns after lunch, but he’d never say that out loud.

“Why are we doing all of this?” He has a feeling, of course. He knows what today is.

“Because you, my dear witcher, deserve some romance,” Jaskier explains, voice heavy with affection, “all the romance, all the time. Why should I not take advantage of the most romantic day of the year to give you that?”

Because you treat everyday like it’s Valentine’s Day, Geralt thinks to say, but instead what comes out is, “witcher’s don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.”

The bard rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. Witchers also don’t have children, witchers don’t help the elderly to their homes, witchers don’t do jobs for free, witchers don’t smile, witchers don’t dance, witchers don’t do anything that could make them feel the slightest bit of joy. Except, you’ve done all those things.”

Well.

“Witchers don’t fall in love, either,” Geralt muses.

Jaskier hums. “They don’t, do they?”

“No,” he responds, voice barely above a whisper, “except, I’ve done that too.”

#give me soft geraskier or give me death #do they have valentine’s day in the witcher universe?#let’s just pretend they do #also i’m not the best poet sorry #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geraskier #my writing

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railroad-migraine · 2 years

Text

Gifting Them Flowers

-> The Witcher (Netflix) x GN!Reader Headcanons

Note: Belated Happy Valentine's Day, my loves 💕 Something small I whipped up for you to enjoy

~ Poet

❤️

Geralt

Hesitantly takes the bunch of wildflowers from you, holding them gently in his hands in fear of crushing them.

Looks at you, a pinch between his brows from where he's furrowed them. He asks you why are you giving him something, and stiffens when you say "Just because~" He's not used to being gifted something without the other person having an ulterior motive, and even then the object given to him is something useful, tying him to an errand or quest.

It's... nice, the flowers so delicate and soft and his in his grasp. He looks pensive, and you reach out and ask him if there's something wrong, but he shakes his head and the corners of his lips quirking up as he regards you. "You didn't have to, but you did it anyway, and I'm very grateful that you thought of me." He seals his sincerity with a kiss.

❤️

Jaskier

His mouth parts in a soft 'o' shape and lifts the small bouquet closer to his nose to breathe in the subtle floral scent. His eyes close for just a moment before opening, brighter than ever, full of unfiltered joy.

Warmth flushes across his face and he grins giddily, thanking you with a flourish of pretty words and kisses to your cheek. You squirm in his grasp but the eager affections of the bard cause laughter to spill from your mouth, and this only encourages him further.

Happily plucks one of the flowers from the bunch and tucks it behind your ear. "If a flower grew for every moment you cross my mind, I'd have fields upon fields of flora, and rule as king of that land with you by my side."

❤️

Yennefer

The bunch of flowers you held out to her were far too nicely wrapped in paper to be simple spell components, so she prepares polite "thank you"s and "you shouldn't have"s in her head, not quite sure how to respond.

But when her fingers brush against yours, electricity flutters across her skin, and it awakens something within her, something that she had pushed aside for far too long. She huffs a laugh as a smile dances across her lips, and for the first time in what seems like forever, all is well.

She feels no dull ache within her, no yearning for a legacy or something greater. Instead, fondness floods Yen's senses, and she presses a kiss to your cheek in thanks, resting her forehead to your temple. "You silly, sweet, delightful thing, you."

❤️

Cahir

He's quiet. He doesn't scowl, and no snarky quips are made. His jaw, often clenched from gritted teeth or frustration, finally relaxes. His eyes soften and he stares at the small bunch of daffodils gripped in his hands.

He's about to say he has nothing to give in return, but the look you give him halts him from forming words. You expect nothing from him, only a reaction. He swallows, nods, and thanks you earnestly, thumbing a velvet soft, golden petal and allowing the swell of emotion to spread through his chest. Suddenly, all of his duties are stripped back, and it's only you and Cahir in this moment.

Takes your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles in thanks, and promises to return your kindness later. Be it dinner or dancing, jewellery or gemstones, as long as you know how touched he was by the sentiment he's happy. "Whatever it is you desire, say the word and it is yours, darling."

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julek · 2 years

Note

40 & geraskefer?

things you said when you met my parents

read on ao3

“Okay, so, remember: my mom loves wine, knitting, and watching telenovelas. Geralt, what’s my dad’s favorite—”

“He loves ballroom dancing, horseback riding, and your mom,” Geralt says automatically. “It’s gonna be fine, Jask.”

“I just want everything to be—”

“Perfect,” Yen says, finishing his sentence for him. “We know. It will be. Just stop fretting and making us memorize your parents’ hobbies.”

They’re standing on said parents’ doorstep, Jaskier’s finger an inch away from the doorbell. There’s a bottle of Jaskier’s mom’s favorite wine under Geralt’s arm, a neat tiramisu from their favorite bakery in Yennefer’s hands, and a delicate bouquet of lilies in Jaskier’s. They all look beautiful — beautiful enough to bail on dinner and go back to their apartment — but tonight is important. So important that Geralt is wearing his nicest jeans and the crisp button-down he spent half an hour ironing, his hair braided into a beautiful pattern. So important that Yen spent her morning at the salon, getting her hair, nails, and skin done. So important that Jaskier cried twice before getting in the car.

He kind of looks like he wants to cry right now, but he can’t, not exactly, because his mother opens the door at that exact moment and suddenly he’s pulled into a tight hug.

“Julian!” She says brightly, squeezing him a little, and then she’s already herding them all inside. “You’re here! How was the drive? This awful weather, I tell you— oh, you brought wine! That’s so nice of you, you didn’t have to— ooh, is that tiramisu? My sister-in-law makes the most wonderful—”

Jaskier’s mom is a whirlwind, and, from the moment he meets her, Geralt is certain it’s something that runs in their blood. She takes his coat, compliments his hair, puts the tiramisu in the freezer and gushes about how beautiful Yen’s dress is all in the same breath. She’s charming, and kind, and there’s something in her gaze that makes Geralt immediately want to trust her.

He has a feeling Yen agrees.

And it’s nice, is the thing, nothing like he had imagined it would be. He’d imagined chandeliers and long dining tables and cool, unfazed blue eyes staring at him during the course of the meal; backhanded comments and fake pleasantries, and it is nothing like that.

The Pankratz household is loud, considering it’s only two people living in it — and it’s full of life. Vitality. There are plants absolutely everywhere (Jaskier’s mom gives them a little tour of the ones she’s proudest of, and delights in telling them their names), a small dog that yaps happily at them and licks Geralt’s hand when he bends down to pet him, a radio somewhere playing old country songs and a kitchen filled with the scent of homemade food and sweet wine.

“Is there anything we can help with?” Geralt asks once they’ve settled down at the kitchen table, watching Mrs. Pankratz — Please call me Camilla, she’d said, we’re all family here — stir something in a pan.

“Nothing at all, dear,” she says with a smile. “It’s almost done, now— oh, maybe you could all help Julian set the table.”

“We’ll do it,” Yen says, taking Jaskier’s hand. “Lead the way.”

Geralt watches them as they leave the kitchen, Yennefer’s laughter soft as Jaskier pokes her in the ribs. When he turns, Camilla is watching him with a gentle expression.

“You love them a lot,” she says.

He smiles. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

He does. He still can’t believe his luck, getting to spend his life with them.

Camilla takes the spoon between her lips as she tastes the sauce. “I could tell,” she says. “I can see it in all of your faces— the love just pouring down like sunlight on a stream.”

She’s a poet as well. It makes Geralt smile.

“I was so happy that one morning Julian called me,” she says, turning the stove off. “He was so nervous, that poor boy, I could tell there was something important he needed to tell me. And then he just blurted it out, Mama I’m in love, and I asked who with, and there was silence, but I could hear someone laughing in the background.”

Geralt snorts. “Yen.”

“Yes,” Camilla says with a grin. “She took over when he couldn’t answer any of my questions. I could tell she was a good one.”

“She is,” he says softly. “Jaskier is, too.”

Camilla smiles at him. They spend a few moments in silence, the gentle sizzling of the pan filling the air. When she’s done, she turns, and says, “Give me a hand, here, dear. My joints aren’t what they used to be.”

“Of course.”

Dinner is fun.

Yen has no recollection of ever enjoying herself so much in a meet-the-parents situation. In fact, they’d all been disasters, prior to this one. Camilla is a gracious host, and heartbreakingly nice, telling her all about the family history behind the meal they’re enjoying, asking her questions with genuine interest and listening to her answers with intent. There’s so much of her in Jaskier, Yen can’t help the way her heart squeezes when she looks at him across the table.

Jaskier’s dad is no different. He’s loud and hilarious, telling them all sorts of anecdotes that both embarrass Jaskier and bring great joy to her and Geralt. He’s straightforward but still polite, honest in a way she’s grateful for. He and Geralt have a shared love of horses that they spend a long time discussing, longer than she cares to listen to, so she turns her attention to the conversation Jaskier and his mother are having.

“...and the house will be empty in June,” Camilla is saying. “Maybe you guys could drive up there for the summer.”

“Oh, well,” Jaskier says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know about that, I mean— I’d have to discuss it with them first. Yen is working the first two weeks of June, I think?”

“Yes,” she interjects, joining the conversation. “But I could move my appointments. What were you talking about?”

“I was just telling Julian about our holiday house upstate,” Camilla says. “We normally go up there on the last days of June, but this year we’ve decided to travel somewhere else. I was thinking maybe you all could head up there for the summer, if you wanted to! There’s a beautiful beach, and it’s really peaceful that time of the year. Most people head somewhere else for the summer, but we’ve always loved going there. Ever since Julian was a kid.”

“Oh,” Yen says, a bit taken aback by the offer. “That’s a really nice idea. Thank you.”

Camilla shakes her head. “It’s nothing, dear. But, speaking of Julian as a kid, do I have the pictures for you—”

“Mom!”

“It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. and Mr. Pankratz,” Yen says one last time, on their doorstep.

The stars are shining and there’s a cool spring breeze ruffling their coats. Geralt’s hand is resting on her waist, Jaskier’s hands in the pockets of her peacoat (he never wears gloves, and she has to suffer for it).

“Drive safe,” Henry — Jaskier’s dad — says. “See you soon.”

They all walk to Geralt’s truck in silence, the comfortable kind. Yen’s belly is full from Camilla’s delicious meal and their sweet wine, the taste of coffee in her mouth from the tiramisu like a reminder of a night gone well. The radio plays softly in the background when Geralt starts the truck, and Yen tucks herself into the passenger seat, eyes closing as Geralt grabs her hand over the gearshift.

Jaskier breaks the silence. “Did you guys have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Geralt and Yen say in unison, and the three of them laugh.

“I really enjoyed myself,” says Geralt, honest. “You didn’t tell us they were such nice people to be around.”

Jaskier shrugs. “They can be a bit much, sometimes. Like me.”

“Mm, and we love you, don’t we?” Yen says sleepily. Geralt hums in agreement.

“Anyway— uh,” Jaskier coughs. “They loved you guys. Obviously, I mean— they gave me the shovel talk.”

Yen’s eyes spring open. She turns around in her seat. “They gave you the shovel talk?”

“Yeah!” He says, eyes shining with indignation. “Me! Their son! The one person they swore to protect no matter the cost!”

Geralt smiles at him over the rearview mirror. “What did they say?”

Jaskier huffs. “Oh, just the classic don’t break their hearts unless you wanna deal with us type of thing. You know, the kind of talk children don’t have to hear from their own parents.”

He looks like a kicked puppy, and Yen can’t contain her laughter.

“No one’s ever given anyone the shovel talk on my behalf,” she says, and oh, this is brilliant. “Oh my God, Jaskier— they like us more than you.”

“That’s not true!”

“They love us!” She cackles, and Geralt snorts. “Your dad was practically looking at Geralt like he hung the moon when he showed him those pictures of Roach, and I’m meeting your mom for brunch this Saturday. They love us.”

“You witch—”

“Watch it, little bird,” she says. “You wouldn’t want your parents to hear that you’re calling me mean names. You know, since they love—”

“Yen!”

#mywriting #geraskefer #geralt x jaskier x yennefer #aaaaaa tysm for the prompt kat!!! i hope you like it <333

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darkverrmin · 2 years

Text

tw: grief

***

Ever since they got together, they had a private joke that Geralt should always get Jaskier flowers on his birthday. Eventually it became a habit that Geralt would find the most rare and ridiculous flowers for Jaskier's birthday. Jaskier would tease him for being a hopeless romantic (lovingly, of course).

This year, Geralt settled on a bouquet of dandelions he bought from one of the local markets in Oxenfurt. With a stone face, Geralt made his way out of the city and into a small grove.

It was a cool but sunny day. There, on a small green hill surrounded by colorful flowers, was Jaskier.

Geralt sat on the grass in front of the tombstone, placing the flowers beside himself. There was a candle in a glass container on the stone, still warm. Eskel or Lambert, Geralt thought.

"Hey." He muttered, placing the flowers onto the smooth surface. "Brought you flowers. I'm afraid it's just dandelions this year."

Geralt shifted to lie down onto the grass beside the stone, staring at the blue sky above them.

"Do I say 'happy birthday?'" He asked the clouds. "If you're not here? I don't know. What would you do, Jask?"

The howling of the wind was the only answer he got.

***

Geralt stayed there until it got dark.

He told Jaskier about everything that happened during the past year. Vesemir's passing. Ciri getting married to an amazing woman, "You'd love her, Jask". Lambert getting a small summer house with Aiden. Eskel and Yennefer working together to defeat the last of the Nilfgaardians. Priscilla getting married, too. Essi being promoted to headmaster of Oxenfurt, the first woman to achieve such a position in the academy.

"Everything's changing, Jask. Sometimes I feel like I can't keep up anymore." Geralt exhaled sharply. "Everybody's talking about you all the time, Jask. We miss you." Geralt's voice broke, tears now streaming down his face. "I miss you."

***

He let himself cry for a while. Eventually he got up and made his way back to the academy. He was supposed to meet Essi and Priss for a drink tonight, in memory of an old friend.

***

"Geralt was here." Jaskier announced, smiling sadly at the flowers. "Look, he brought me flowers!"

"Dandelions," Vesemir remarked with a hint of a smile. "Your favorites?"

"Yes," Jaskier confirmed. He let out a deep sigh. "Dear Gods, I miss him."

"Me too, pup." Vesemir placed a hand on Jaskier's shoulder, in an attempt to comfort him. "We'll see him again sooner than you think. Time goes by differently around here."

"I know," Jaskier said softly. "Would it be weird if I want it to happen rather later than sooner?"

Vesemir gave him a warm smile. "Want him to enjoy life a little longer?"

"I do."

"I doubt he feels the same after the past year."

"Give him time. He'll find a way to be happy again." Jaskier bent down, taking one of the dandelions from the bouquet, examining it in his hands. "I know he's strong enough to do it on his own. Until we meet again."

***

A/N: To everyone who lost someone close to them, I feel you. I lost my father this year and his birthday is in less than two weeks, and I don't know how to feel about it. I love and miss him so much. I believe that our loved ones are waiting for us out there. We just need to be strong and keep living.

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #witcher netflix #geralt the witcher #julian alfred pankratz #geralt #geralt x dandelion #vesemir #death #grief #loss

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witchersgoldenbard · 2 years

Note

Do you have any geraskier fic recs for the weird slump that happens when you’re anxious about the semester, but that surfaces as deciding you’re a fucked up weirdo and then crawling into bed and hating yourself? Bc that is where I am 🥺 I’m in the US so the semester starts next week for me, and I am barely functional

hello my darling nonnie, i am sorry you’re in a slump, please know i am sending you all the hugs and cuddles 🥺💛 you’re not a fucked up weirdo, you’re lovely and deserve all the snuggles! In lieu of snuggles, i’m giving you some of my personal favourite geraskier fics – which are not nearly as many as i would like because i spent a long time in a (reading) slump myself. i tried to sort them for you becuase they got... a bit out of hand 💛

Canon-world AUs

of music and motion and love by WriteThroughTheNight

T | 12k | Jaskier and Yen are siblings, many feels, magic jaskier

When Jaskier was four, he slipped his mother’s watch and went to the field to gather a bouquet of dandelions. He climbed back into the yard, as stealthy as a child really cared to be, and crept over to the barn. In the barn, lived a secret. OR Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother.

the heart is a winged beast by @greyduckgreygoose

E | 99k words | warlord!geralt, mutual pining, intrigue

After the turmoil of war robbed him of his birthright, Jaskier endures life as a simple Bard in the court of Kerack, under the protection of his cruel, ambitious cousin. Until the night that Jaskier catches the attention of the Geralt of Rivia, Lord of the Clan of the Wolf, and is terrified to be gifted to the barbarian mercenary as a bed-warmer. However, Jaskier soon learns that the White Wolf is not the man his dark reputation makes him out to be. He might, in fact, be Jaskier's only hope of escaping his harsh circumstances. If only Jaskier can convince Geralt to allow him to remain at his side... if only Jaskier can avoid losing his own heart in the process...

Geralt Deserves Soft Things (series) by Bedalk05

mostly T | 200k words | wolf shifter jask, soft boys, all the feels

This series is almost entirely pure fluff, featuring shifter!Jaskier and a whole lotta cuddles and feels all around. Most of these can be read as a stand-alone if you’d like.

(i honestly love this so much, some of the first geraskier i read. perfect comfort 💛)

Modern AUs

Yours, Dandelion by dapperyklutz

T | 17k words | teenagers, soft boys, all the feels, pining

Jaskier has a secret. Well, he has two. The first is that he's in love with Geralt Rivia, captain of the rugby team and his childhood best friend. Only, they're no longer best friends. His second secret is that he writes poems dedicated to Geralt and anonymously posts it at the school's Freedom Wall under the pseudonym of Dandelion. And the thing is, Dandelion has become so popular - more popular than Jaskier - that it's getting more difficult to keep his silence when it's clear that Geralt is starting to develop feelings for the mysterious lovesick poet. How naïve was Jaskier to think that it would be so easy.

velvet and steel by balladofwolves

E | 21k words | mob!au, singer!jask, slow burn, action, epic

Reckless up-and-coming singer Jaskier lands himself in hot water when one of his more political songs goes viral, and nearly gets him killed. Queen Calanthe of Cintra wants his head, but Jaskier is placed under the protection of the Order of the Wolf, the most powerful crime organization in the Continent-- And finds himself falling in love with none other than Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf himself, and leader of the Order. Jaskier’s never been known to make good, or safe, choices.

Opposites Attract by tinyjaskier

T | 28k words | autistic geralt, adhd jaskier, college au, softness

When Geralt is paired with Jaskier by the University accommodation team, he’s sure there must’ve been some kind of mistake. The guy is loud, unorganised and messy. Geralt likes peace, order and cleanliness. He’s going to drive him absolutely insane. But, there’s no more accommodation left. How will they cope?

Soulmate AUs

Nothing to Lose But My Secrets by @handwrittenhello

E | 45k words | enemies to lovers, warlord!geralt and assassin!jaskier

Jaskier is the best assassin in the Northern Kingdoms. On the most important mission of his life - kill the Warlord of the North or die trying - things go terribly wrong, and he's taken prisoner. During his time as a captive in Kaer Morhen, he's forced to confront some uncomfortable truths: witchers aren't what the stories say, his soulmate is most definitely somewhere in the keep and he may have found himself on the wrong side of this war.

Batshit by fungumunguss

E | 80k words (though the main storyline is like 60k?) | modern au, witchers in modern times

Jaskier is attending Comic-Con to promote his show, "Dandelion" a musical thriller. While everything on the show is fiction, Jaskier has a penchant for danger and very quickly finds himself in a bit of trouble and into the arms of one delectable man who he feels drawn to. His heart whispers soulmate, but after his previous disaster with his soul mark, he can't bear to believe it true. The punch in the gut tells him that much.

Other

The Reanimator of Rosemerrow by @cap-sweet-and-salty-sadness

E | 35k words | supernatural & horror elements, modern witchers

In 1819, Jaskier accidentally buys an old abandoned inn in the middle of nowhere, England. Haunted, as if this mountain of dust and debris wasn't already enough of a problem. At least he has a handsome carpenter to help him renovate it.

endless wonder by @kotemorons

M | 50k words | Warehouse 13 AU, a/b/o (but not really), magic

Jaskier knows three things for sure: One, most of the items stored in Kaer Morhen actively want to kill him. Two, all of the people he works with are absolutely gorgeous, terrifying alphas that want nothing to do with his flirty omega self. Three, he wouldn't have it any other way. Oh, did he mention the end of the world?

The Lesser Evil by @dont-tempt-me-frodo

E | 79k words | pirate captain!jask, assassin!geralt, epic, all the feels

1674 and piracy is rife throughout the Caribbean. Plenty of work for a Pirate Hunter such as Geralt. But when he takes a contract to hunt down a pirate captain who is interfering with important trade, a harsh truth arrises that will question his morals and he will be forced to choose between two evils, and risk the one thing he never thought he would find. Love.

💛 i also asked some of my friends for their geraskier fic recs, so here, have some more! (though i didn't sort them this time, sorry)

Life's Blood by @resident-lambert-hoe (T | 3k)

It had taken fifty-years of fighting tooth and nail for Geralt and Jaskier to be allowed to legally marry. After the deed was done, they chose to commemorate it in their own way. tattoo au

Secret by @mordoriscalling (M | 8k)

Based on artistsfuneral's take on the prompt "love confessions: in a language you didn't know they understand".

Taming the Wolves by @saltytransidiot (T | 9k)

When Geralt offers to bring Jaskier to Kaer Morhen that winter, the bard is overjoyed, but anxious as well. He desperately wishes to make a good impression on his lover's family. It turns out easier than he had thought, although Eskel isn't convinced just yet.

Sweet Nothings by @saltytransidiot (M | 10k)

Kaer Morhen is a warmer place than Jaskier had envisaged, and Geralt's family is nicer, and bigger, than Geralt had ever spoken about. Walking into the keep brings up some feelings that Jaskier hadn't realized were bubbling, and he has to delve deeper into his own feeling and who he really is. (God Jaskier)

Sweet Sorrows by @saltytransidiot (M | 19k)

Ciri doesn't find Geralt at the end, she finds Jaskier. She has known him all her life, and she trusts him. He decides to bring her to Kaer Morhen so that she will find Geralt. He dreads the moment it will happen.

Three Steps from the Sky by @bunnyofnegativeeuphoria (M | 30k)

Dear Reader, I present to you a tale of love, the value of faith and communication, and quite a ridiculous amount of horse content.

No King Among Wolves by IndigoDream (M | 32k)

Prince Julian of Kerack has been having nightmares recently. On the day of his twenty-first birthday feast, a week before his official coronation, he tries to ignore those nightmares and focus on the party. However, when a princess of Creyden greets him, accompanied by her witcher bodyguard, Julian starts feeling like he can't escape the dreams anymore. --- Jaskier was a son, a brother, a prince. One sweep at his mind, and he is only a Prince.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) by @a-kind-of-merry-war (E | 50k)

Geralt and Jaskier have been playing this game for nearly a year, now: staging a proposal in an expensive restaurant to see if they can get a meal on the house. But pretending to be engaged to the person you're secretly in love with is starting to take its toll on both of them - especially when they're caught in the act.

To give without knowing by @flowercrown-bard (T | 108k)

Jaskier finds a wooden figure that Geralt carved and threw away in the woods and thinks it's a gift from the fae.

my dear friend (hehe) also compiled a list of geraskier fic recs

so! i hope you're not overwhelmed now, dearest nonnie. i hope you find something that lets you escape your slump. i love you 💛

#geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geraskier fic recs #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfic #witcher fic rec #nonnie asks #i love you nonnie #also just go to the profiles of all these writers they're lovely and have many more stories #also IndigoDream i kiss your hand darling #💛#nat rambles #nat recs #thanks everyone who gave me their recs!#i would have asked more people but then that would have escalated even more but feel free to reblog this with your own recs

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