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gods-no-longer-tread-here · 7 months

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“What do you want, warrior?”

The man soaked in blood grinned. His eyes were black, his skin was snowy, and the veins in his face and exposed hands pulsed with dark power; but he was no witcher. He couldn’t be. His grip on the silver-bladed sword was awkward, unused to the weight. He did not have the build of a monster-killer. If not for the magic, and the blood, he would look weak.

“I want my witcher, of course,” he rasped.

The lord scoffed and sipped his wine. “You cannot have him, and you will die if you continue this foolish quest,” he said flatly. “You may have cut your way through my men to reach here, but you are human. Humans cannot contain witcher magic. Do you want to die?”

The man laughed. It was a hideous sound, loud and rough and mad. The lord frowned, and squinted, looking closer. It was hard to tell, when the man was so far away, but…

The cup slipped from his suddenly cold hand.

“Yes,” the man soaked in blood said, his grin that of a madman who died a long, long time ago. “But it will be by his hand, and no one else’s. No one said I was human.”

“Jules,” the lord gasped.

“No. My name is Jaskier. Now give me my witcher, Father.”

Geralt pressed his fingers to his eyes again, gritting his teeth. He still wasn’t used to the hazy shadows where his vision used to be. Luckily the torturer was inexperienced; Geralt wasn’t fully blind. Yet.

His fingertips brushed gingerly against the raw, puffy scar at the corner of his right eye. He knew it was only a matter of time before they gouged the organs out of his head. He would fight, of course. He would kill. But his eyes were less important than--

The stench of blood. Metal and sweat. Rage. Witcher potions.

Linseed oil. Buttercups.

The sea.

Geralt attempted to stand, but his feet were still healing. His heart was beating too fast. He turned his head, towards the dim square of light that was the window of his cell. Surely not…

“Jaskier?” he whispered.

The lock clicked. The door opened. Geralt took a deep breath, and tasted the flat, salty-sweet tang of blood and offal. Under it was Jaskier, though—unmistakably his bard.

“Jask,” he repeated, and lurched to his feet. The form in the light gasped, then rushed forward to embrace him. Geralt wrapped his arms around Jaskier and held him too tightly, trembling with relief. Alive. Safe. Maybe the gods existed. Maybe Destiny had taken pity on him.

But… why did Jaskier smell like witcher?

Pulling away, Jaskier pressed a vial and a sword hilt into Geralt’s hands. Geralt sniffed the bottle as his fingers curled into the familiar indentations of the leather grip. Swallow. Potent. Too potent. It would make him sick to drink it.

“I need you to kill a monster,” Jaskier said.

Geralt felt a feral grin spread across his face. “Give me a scent,” he replied, “And their head will be yours.”

Jaskier held a piece of fabric up to his face. Geralt breathed in deeply, and growled in hate and anticipation. He knew that scent. It was carved into his memory as deeply as the voices of his brothers.

“He’s wounded,” Jaskier told him. “Not enough to slow him down, but enough to cause upset. Can you smell him, Wolf?”

“I smell him,” Geralt hissed, popping the cork from the bottle of Swallow.

“He’s all yours, my dear. I’ll clean up the trash behind you.”

Geralt growled again, drank the potion, and darted around Jaskier. A monster to slay, for his bard. There was no task better suited to him.

~~\0/~~

Ten Years Previously

It was a fine thing, to be free and untethered. Truly he was meant to exist this way.

But Jaskier had tasted the stability of love, and now he could not be satisfied with the adrenaline of lust. So he waited at the inn for Geralt to finish his latest contract, instead of leaving for the nearest court or brothel—one and the same, truly. Full of rich men paying for the use of others’ bodies. And Jaskier was tired of it all.

Nilfgaard had fallen. Cintra had been restored. That didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters to clean up—both beast and man. Whilst Geralt specialized in the former, Jaskier concentrated on the latter. Like now, as he wrote a letter to a contact in Redania containing coded and magicked information. The old men who called this backwater village home were good at hiding, but their soldiers were not. Jaskier had seen them, and their weapons, and their fine steeds. And their sorceress.

She was good, but Yennefer was better. And with the entire force of her Lodge behind her, she could easily sway the woman to give up her lord and his sons. Jaskier allowed himself a small smile as he signed the letter with a tiny bird. Yennefer still wasn’t his favorite person, but only because she wasn’t Geralt. Other than that small detail, there was no one he trusted more.

With the three of them on the trail, Ciri wouldn’t have an enemy on the entire continent within a decade.

Not that she knew the extent of her parents’ goals. The last time Jaskier had seen Ciri, she had laughed that they were all too protective of her. She was a woman grown, with a wife and a place as a weapons-teacher. It didn’t matter how grown she was, though. Not to them.

Jaskier frowned. It was wrong of him to be so protective of her, when he wasn’t even her father. But he would still burn the world to the ground in her name. Was this how her grandmother had maintained her station? This blind loyalty that ensnared the hearts of the powerful until they couldn’t imagine a world without her?

Did it matter? They would root out every speck of conspiracy, to keep her safe. They would kill everyone they had to.

Jaskier pushed himself to his feet abruptly and paced the room. These thoughts, though frequent, and often quite logical, frightened him. He had asked Yennefer to poke about in his head to find any seed of madness in him, but she had said there was nothing other than what all men had. Jaskier had not been violent when he was younger.

When he was ignorant.

He sighed, and sat again. Nothing for it. He’d have to hope Geralt came back without wounds, so they could spar, or fuck, or both.

“I do so wish I understood what’s happened to me,” he murmured, leaning his chin in his hand. “There’s so much beauty and delight in this world, and yet the one thing that doesn’t move me is death. Hmm.”

“Is that so, little one?”

Jaskier shot to his feet and whipped around, his hand going to his dagger. In the corner was a shadow, undulating, covered in eyes of green fire. The lights of the candles and setting sun seemed to leech away into the inky dark of the shadow. The scent of ancient blood on cold stone filled the room.

Jaskier scowled and took his hand from the dagger’s hilt. “Mother,” he said dryly, and bowed. “Stop sneaking around like that.”

A wet chuckle, like a drowned person choking, and the shadow resolved into a tall, broad woman clothed in rags. She smiled, baring her fangs endlessly stained in blood. “But it is so fun, my dear boy,” she cooed, cupping Jaskier’s face in her sea-cold hands. “You are just as easy to frighten as your father. What funny creatures, men.”

“What do you need, Mother?” Jaskier asked. “We’re quite a ways away from the sea. A goddess of sirens should be with her people, in the waters.”

Her smile grew soft, her enormous wings mantling around them both as she pulled Jaskier into a gentle embrace. He hugged her back immediately, breathing her salty scent deeply. He’d missed her. Only a year, and he’d missed his mother, the daughter of Storms and Death.

“I need you to promise not to hate me,” she murmured.

“I could never hate you, Mother,” Jaskier replied.

“Not even if I granted your wish to know?”

“No. Your blood is in my veins. You know I want more than is good for me, always.”

She laughed again. “The sea takes, and takes, and takes, and gives but rarely. It is time I tell you.” She pulled back enough to tilt his face up to look into her eyes of storm-fire. Her expression and voice were gentle as she said, “My blood is in your veins. It is awakening. I am fading, and soon you will take my place, the lord of death at sea.”

Jaskier went cold. “Mother…”

“Hush. I am losing power. It is a cycle, like the tides. I Saw your coming fifty years ago, and that is why I seduced your father, married him in the way of humans, and bore you. Now you are coming into your own. You will take my place and feast on those who trespass in our beloved ocean. Do not be sad, my pearl. I am not dying. I will simply go where the ones before me went.”

“Mother.” Jaskier licked his lips, gathering his courage. “Mother, I can’t leave Geralt.”

His mother smiled indulgently. “You needn’t leave him. You can keep him in the depths, like my father kept my mother. You can even let your little sorceress friend visit once a moon. But you must come home when I fade. You must take up the chalice. There are too many humans who seek to tame the sea. They must remember why they worship us.”

“I’m not god material.”

“Neither was I. It comes to you. Don’t you feel it, my pearl? That jealous love. That lust for the blood of those who hurt those closest to you. That is the sea within you. Answer the call of the sea.”

#Geraskier #The Witcher #dark!Jaskier #dark!Geralt #idk if this should be continued I wrote it while listening to my most bloodthirsty playlist

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tielmamon · 9 months

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Part 2

"Oh- wh- hold on now, thought we were playing for fun?" Jaskier watches Ciri deplete his monitary resources with the sweetest smile, and truly he finds that he doesn't mind.

"I assure you, it truly is a delight taking your coin." He puts on an annoyed face and snatches her cards back just to squeeze another laugh out of her. Gods know this girl needs a bit of levity in her life right now. He wasn't good at a lot of things, realistcally. He's not skilled with a sword, not a pinch of chaos in him, but making people laugh? That he can do.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do." He glances at her, honestly more proud than anything else. Princess Cirilla of Cintra, a fiesty spark of a girl turned warrior. He wasn't there for her initial adjustment with Geralt for...obvious reasons but in the years when he was there, he's seen how brave and noble and irrefutably powerful she is. All that hurt and pain turned into pure determination. She's a flame, just like her mother. And most of all, Jaskier sees so much of his best friend in her. Not just the stubbornness to do good or fierce protectiveness over those she loves, but also the little things that make his heart ache. How she holds her sword, how she likes her meat, hell even how she walks. Undoutably a reflection of her parent's love and guidance.

Her parents...

The sharpness in his chest returns. Its strange. Years and years of loving Geralt had eventually reformed his once raging, constantly ready-to-burst love into a calm, surrendered sort of feeling. It's not that his love for the man lessened. On the contrary, every year he feels them grow and evolve into something more. Knowing that heartbreak was inevitable had given him a bittersweet sort of peace. So the pain in his chest that flares whenever he sees Geralt so openly love Yen faded with time, leaving a dull ache in its place.

Until now.

"I'm sorry you're here with me, instead of at the party." Ciri brings him out of his thoughts. He simply shakes his head.

"Oh, I'm not." In all honestly, he was a bit annoyed that everyone and their mother seemed to be invited to this conclave except him but then he remembers Geralt and Yennefer going together. He could only imagine what fancy, no doubt monochromatic outfit Yen would force Geral to wear. Then again, if Yennefer was the one asking he doubts Geralt would protest. Not as much as he would with him, anyway-

He cuts that train of thought before it sends him spiraling. He had worked so hard to keep himself incheck, keep his feelings to a minimum. To not feel, or at the very least look like the lovesick fool he was before.

"Valdo's off key warblng would make my ears bleed." He settles on a believable and admittedly true excuse. Valdo's overdramatic (even for him) vocals are definitely a factor, but he'd rather listen to that noise for days than watch Geralt dance Yennefer across the ballroom with that soft, painfully besotted look on his face. He might actually die of heartbreak if he does.

"Besides, I'm better off here." He smiles at her, reassuredly. He sees the princess sit up straighter, patting the spot beside her. He raises an eyebrow but sits down nontheless.

"Jask?"

"Yes, coin thief?"

"Does he know?" He feels his heartbeat pick up. He's sure than his body is noticibly tenses, judging by how Ciri looks at him like a kicked fucking puppy.

"Does who know what?" He knows what she's asking, because what else could she mean? But like a coward, he deflects. He turns to humor because really, thats his weapon of choice. She looks at him with such a sad look and he knows he's caught.

"Does Geralt know you love him?" Deflect. Run. Don't answer-

"Of course he knows I love him. He's my best friend." He prays that his answer is enough. It seems like it isn't .

"Jaskier." He is still and silent, almost like how the man in question often is. In the end, he finds that he's tired of lying about what he feels. So, he talks.

"I think so, yes. Pretty hard thing to miss after the years of songs and poetry and...well, you get the picture." He sees her face drop, and a certain panic sets in.

"Ciri- listen, I would never ever try and break up your parents, okay? I-I would never do that to your family." He says in a rush, desperate for her to realizes. Because yes, as much as he loves Geralt, he would never jeopardise this. They were quite literally destined to be together, and if Jaskier feels like his chest is being ripped out by a wyvern everytime he sees them then thats his problem, not theirs.

"You're part of this family too, you know." Jaskier has only ever been truly speechless a handful of times in his life. But when he feels her bring him into a hug far nicer than he technically deserves right now, he finds that he can't bring himself to say anything because gods, he wishes it were true. That he was part of this group. This family and not just a stray thread, waiting to be cut off and thrown away once again.

"You're family too." He nods weakly, a few tears spilling from his eyes. Smaller hands, not yet calloused by swords or spells brush a few tears from his cheeks using the blanket. He laughs wetly, complaining how dusty the blanket is, making him cry more which was definitely the real reason and not anything else.

"And I'm not upset at you Jaskier. I'm upset for you. I don't like seeing you hurt like this..." He sees her brows furrow, hands pulling away to clutch the covers. He chuckles, wiping away the rest of his tears.

"Oh, how lucky a man am I. To have such a fierce warrior-witcher-mage princess protecting me." He smiles but her frown doesn't waver. She adjusts herself on the bed to face him properly, laying on her side and slipping a hand to hold his.

"I'm serious Jaskier! You're happiness is important too." He squeezes the hand on top of his, mustering up enough courage to smile.

"My dear, I am happy with what I have now."

"Liar." He gasps, bringing a hand to his heart. She smiles, just a bit and he counts that as a win

"I would never!" He allows himself to breath when he sees her chuckle. He's exhausted, truly. His body feels heavy with the weight of his emotions and physical exhaustion of the day. Still, there is a determined princess cuddled up infront of him with furrowed brows and a sad look on her face that simply cannot wait until morning.

"We do not choose who we love in this lifetime. I didn't choose to fall inlove with my best friend the same way Geralt didn't choose to not reciprocate those feelings. Which is okay, because-...because my love for your father isn't one that seeks a reply. It simple is." Ciri recalls her memories.

Memories from Geralt and her in the woods, running and overwhelmed and terrified. She remembers Geralt telling her stories of his best friend- an obnoxious bard that told the best stories even though they weren't entirely true. The look of guilt and sadness and longing her father suprise had when he told her about him. The few tears she saw him shed behind a crack in the door the night he finally gathered up the courage to apologize to Jaskier for everything. She had never seen him so devastated.

The grin he didn't even bother to hide when Jaskier had offhandedly called him darling when he asked for the salt.

"But what if there is a reply? What if he does love you?" Jaskier shakes his head, looking down to his lap.

We could head to the coast...

Get away for a while...

Composing your next song?

No...No, just trying to work out what pleases me...

Jaskier bears his heart to Geralt on that mountain top. He doesn't breathe, doesn't dare look away. He waits and hopes and gods above, he loves so hard it hurts. Maybe just this once, he'll be enough. Maybe they could run away from this, from everything just for a year. Maybe-

Geralt stands and leaves. Jaskier turns and sees him disappear in Yennefer's tent.

"Darling, that's impossible." He smiles sadly, playing with her fingers. The memory of then mountain and all other instances of him and Geralt replay like an old song. He knew the melody and each lyric by heart by now.

"But Jaskier I've-" Ciri startles when Jaskier’s hand claps with hers loudly and suddenly. Her palm barely stings but she gets the hint to stop talking.

"I have his friendship. I have a-a family apparently, in you and Yen. That is...more than I ever dreamed of having. You all are more than enough for me." Ciri regards him for a moment, staring at him like she's reading his soul. Whatever she sees seems to satisfy- atleast for now, because she sighs and lays a head on his shoulder.

"You too." He leans back, cheek brushing her temple as they stare at the flames of the fireplace.

"Thank you." He pretends to believe her.

Part 1 (x)

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #unrequited???#one sided love???#maybe not #Geralt sending mixed signals #poor baby jaskier #fanfic

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fangirleaconmigo · 2 years

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Demon!Geralt Geraskier AU premise/concept

(not a full full fic, just some fun)

Jaskier is a music student at an ivy league university. He has been disowned by his wealthy parents, so he is broke and working as a janitor to help pay his way.

One sunny morning, he is cleaning a frat house. The house is quiet, because all the frat boys are sleeping off hangovers from their epic Halloween party. There are broken glasses, stray bras, and empty bottles everywhere.

Ever since he was cut off financially and started cleaning dorms and frat houses, they don't invite him to parties anymore. It's fine. He is fine with it.

As he walks into the kitchen, one of the boys who used to be a friend (or so he thought) passes him groggily in the hall on his way to the bathroom. Jaskier feels a slight flush of embarrassment and decides to start cleaning in the basement.

When he descends the stairs to the basement, he takes in an odd scene.

There are abandoned velvet...robes? Everywhere? And more broken glass. There is a black circle painted on the ancient stone floors (Jaskier is gonna take a picture of that before he starts, to prove he didn't fucking deface university property) and burned down candles everywhere.

He takes out his phone and just as he snaps a picture, an abandoned robe in the center of the circle moves. Fuck. He jams his phone in his pocket. The guy is probably just sleeping something off, but what if he passed out down here? None of these fucking douchebags would have helped him. He better make sure he's ok.

He pulls aside the robe, to find a muscular, stark naked man, curled into a ball. The man startles when he feels the robe move, and he sits up. His hair is white and his pupils are golden. And when he sees Jaskier, his body flushes pink, and, wait....are those? Scales? Red scales?

The man swiftly arranges his hair and Jaskier realizes something disappears when he does that.

"Do you have...horns?" Jaskier asks stupidly.

"No. I do not have horns. Not any longer."

"Are those scales?"

Jaskier reaches out a finger and gets his hand slapped.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

The man doesn't reach for his robe. So Jaskier picks one up and holds it out. The man takes it but doesn't put it on.

Jaskier clears his throat. "Your friends are all sleeping up there. They can probably find a better place to sleep than on some rocks."

The man tilts his nose up ever so slightly. "They are not my friends."

He stands up and Jaskier's throat goes dry as he just keeps....standing. The man is huge. Like. Not normal huge. Enormous.

Jaskier looks down as the man puts on the robe. "Then why did you come to their party?" Jaskier lifts the broom in his hand. "I'm getting paid to be here at least."

"They summoned me."

"Summoned?"

Jaskier stares at him for a moment in silence. The man just stares back.

"Are you a--"

"A demon, yes."

"Shit. That's. That's cool. I've never met a demon."

"You aren't afraid?"

Jaskier scratches his temple and considers. "Well. According to my parents, Satan is my father and I'm going to hell when I die. So. Seems like I sort of....maybe...belong to you."

"Hmmm." The man seems to be amused, but it is hard to tell.

Jaskier holds out his hand. "Jaskier. Nice to meet you."

"Really?"

"Why not?"

"Well. It's usually less nice to meet you and more here are my demands."

"They summoned you to demand something? What do people usually demand?"

"It's usually fuck or fight. I don't know what these guys wanted because they wandered off before I got here. They were pretty wasted."

"Fuck...or..."

"They want me to kill someone for them. Or they expect me to fall in love with them and fuck them. Or some combination of the three."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, you're very attractive, Mr..."

"Geralt. It's Geralt."

"You're insanely attractive, Geralt. I feel uniquely qualified to say that since I have seen you stark naked. But it does seem rather....presumptuous to expect that any demon that shows up is going to want to fuck you."

"I do not think they care what I want."

Jaskier shuddered. "Fucking creeps."

Geralt grunts listlessly. He arranges the robe around him. The black velvet is stunning against his skin. These douchebag frat boys might be pricks, but they do have an eye for fabric.

Jaskier stays silent for a moment again, listening for noises upstairs. "I think they're still asleep. Why don't you get out of here. Go home."

"I cannot. I am bound inside the circle. And even if I could get out of the circle, I am bound to this plane until they release me. There is a ritual where they release me back home. Back to hell."

Jaskier lays down the broom and rubs his chin in thought.

"Can I let you out?"

"Yes. Just scuff the circle."

Jaskier immediately scuffs the circle, and Geralt sighs in relief. He steps outside of the strip of black paint and stretches his arms, then his legs. Jaskier is thoroughly transfixed by the rippling muscles and thighs thick as tree trunks.

"I cannot leave this area though. I find that I can get about a mile away before I start to fade. I cannot leave. And if they realize their ritual worked, they will find me."

"But the only way they will do the closing ritual is if they realize it worked."

"Exactly."

"You are in a pickle, sir."

"Indeed."

Jaskier clears his throat and scuffs the floor with his foot, even though the paint is scuffed enough. "You can come stay with me. Hide out. I am staying in a hostel now, but it's a private room. We could sneak you in."

"You would do that for me?"

"Of course. And I've already raided their pantry. I have bags of food under the window outside I can just swipe on the way out." Jaskier grinned. "We can eat like kings."

Geralt chuckles. "I do enjoy human food occasionally. I don't need to eat, but it is pleasurable. But Jaskier."

"Yes?"

The demon scrunches his face, affecting a ferocious threating expression. "His power over me does not extend to you. You cannot compel me to do anything. In fact, I can kill you with a thought. Just a mere notion. You'd be dead. Rotten. Bones clattering to the ground. All that before I even speak."

Jaskier sucks his cheeks in for a moment as he thinks. "Well, do you kill people for being annoying?"

Geralt shakes his head. "No."

Jaskier grins. "Then I'm safe."

They sneak upstairs together and slink through the halls. They hear voices in the living room and Geralt startles. The sight of a demon the size of a dragon trying to crouch back into corner is one Jaskier will not soon forget.

Two of the frat boys are awake and chatting. "Did you see fucking Julian come through here?"

"No. What's that dickswab doing here?"

"He's in the basement cleaning."

"He's the cleaning lady?"

"He's poor now. His parents disowned him."

"Why?"

"Why the fuck do you think?"

The boys dissolve into laughter and Jaskier feels his neck flush hot. For some reason, it is extra humiliating to be laughed at in front of a large, powerful, gorgeous, actual demon.

"Come on, Geralt," he says. "There's another exit.

As they change direction down the other hall, there is a shriek and a gurgle from the direction of the living room. Even though they move fast and are outside in just a moment, Jaskier hears the screams through the open window.

"Percy's dead!"

He looks at Geralt in shock. Geralt shrugs. "Percy wasn't at the ritual. I'm not bound to him."

"I thought you didn't kill people for being annoying?"

Geralt fidgets. "He isn't dead. They're being dramatic. It's just a bit of...pain." He watches Jaskier, brow furrowed. "Do you--do you-- still want to help me?"

Jaskier doesn't need to think about that one. "I do. But you need to learn some manners. There are a lot of assholes in this place and even some living in the hostel. If we leave a trail of bodies, they'll find you very quickly."

Geralt nods.

"Good. Now. How do you feel about cappuccino?" He lifted a bag that jangled. "They have one of those fancy machines. I'm borrowing it."

Geralt grunts again. Jaskier has already figured that one out. It is agreement.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #demon au

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astxroiid · 3 months

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being married to jaskier // headcanon -- from this request

navigation

❥ first things first: the proposal.

it was more beautiful and well thought out than you thought possible. -- he’d rather excitedly led you out to the forest and into a field. -- light from the candles he’d placed on stumps danced across the grass, though the light from the full moon would’ve sufficed. -- Jaskier had flowers placed in a circle around a large blanket on the ground and a basket full of foods set atop the blanket and beside and ornate bottle of wine. -- you both ate and drank first, though you had no idea what was coming. -- he spoke of old times and adventures you’d went on together, you admired his charm. -- when he took a knee, you were shocked enough that you dropped your bread on the blanket.

❥ his speech was heartfelt and absolutely beautiful. -- naturally after you said yes you kissed him which turned to something heated as you made love on the forest floor.

❥ he’s a sucker for clichés, so he definitely carries you through the door much to your dismay.

“Jask! Put me down! M’not a child!” -- “But, my love, it’s tradition.”

❥ he’s an absolute gentleman.

massaging you after hard days and bringing you a drink while he does. -- some mornings he brings you breakfast in bed and some days you do the same for him.

❥ it’s a cohesive and fair relationship and the best one you’ve ever been in.

❥ he’s an absolute sweetheart when you’re sick

“are you sure you’re okay, darling? I can get you more soup or a warm towel or—” -- “—Jask. Honey, I’m okay. I promise, I won’t die.”

❥ begging you for a child.

"But imagine a mini us? They'd be adora-" -- "that sounds like a nightmare, jask. Not right now." -- secretly your pregnant.

❥ your house is amazing.

you have infinite time to decorate and design. -- candles everywhere, cozy furniture strategically placed. -- the fireplace almost always burning because jaskier had to choose a cold place to live. -- it's fine though, you enjoy the cold (most of the time).

❥ having geralt over all the time.

you've trained him to take his muddy shoes off before coming inside, but figuring out what to do with his blood soaked clothes is another thing. -- he always compliments your home. -- geralt is the sweetest to you. -- "jaskier, your wife looks especially lovely this evening, wouldn't you say?" -- "i would say she looks especially wonderful every day." -- there's a designated room in the back for geralt to crash in, and a designated box for all the clothes he brings in covered in gods-know what liquid. -- it's Jaskier's job to wash them. -- "why must i?" -- "because. He's your best friend, and you get to clean up behind him." You smile.

❥ having a small farm with plenty of sources for food.

you gave each of the hens nature-themed names. -- the two cows got named daisy and dandy. -- your favorite group to harvest will always be the strawberries, stealing some to eat in the moment being a habit by now.

❥ jaskier got a dog to heard the sheep.

he named him Bailey and taught him how to sit, lay, and shake within the first 2 weeks. -- he cuddles up to the two of you at night, keeping you both warm. -- his best friend is a brown sheep named Jack. "Jaskier, your dog just farted." You say, half asleep in the dark of the bedroom. -- "no, love, that was me." He says apologetically.

❥ going on vacations and making geralt take care of the house and animals for you.

"And where is the dog's bed?" geralt asks, begrudgingly. -- "oh he sleeps in the bed with us usually." Jaskier quips. -- "great." -- and even though geralt seems displeased with Bailey, everytime you leave and come back home you find the two cuddled up together in bed. Fast asleep.

❥ vacations to the beach every summer.

there's a little hut jaskier build a couple years back that you share, usually opting to sleep under the stars anyway. -- swimming together every single day your out there. -- catching and cooking seafood. -- always bringing home extras for Bailey and geralt. -- you collect a sea shell each year you go, making a memorial wall for all the trips.

❥ the love songs jaskier writes during married life are some of the best in his career.

every new song gets massive cheers and applause from any crowd in a tavern that hears it. -- of course every song is about you. How you'll they not be? -- Jaskier hasn't wrote a sad song since the day he said his vows.

❥ he's a total bed hog.

jaskier and Bailey both, though mainly Jaskier takes up almost the entirety of the bed, tangling himself in the blankets. -- and yet, he feels bad every morning he wakes up and sees you on the edge of the bed, curled in a ball. -- you never mind, staying asleep for all of it.

❥ and somehow, the most obnoxious man you ever met became the best man you'll ever know.

omfg I'm so sorry that took me so long to write for you, love! that writers block came from nowhere jfc.

#jaskier #Jaskier headcanon #headcanon #the witcher #jaskier the bard #jaskier the witcher #request #jaskier x reader #jask

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timetraveladdict · 1 year

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Episode 2

SPOILER

Poor Ciri and her visions. It made me feel sad.

DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE? YOU CAN'T GIVE ME JASKIER PETTING A CAT!!!! It’s so adorable my poor heart can't take it!

Also very nice sequence with Codringher and Fenn. And Gods! Did Geralt call Jaskier, Jask? Are we in a fanfic or something? 😍

Emhyr is kinda hot? I didn’t remember him being so handsome… he gives me Ben Barnes vibes.

Also wtf… is that Kira Metz?

Houvenagel and Leo Bonhart… my my I already have goosebumps only by heating their names…

What is wrong with Triss Merigold? She is kin of a bitch? Her wig gets worse every new season…

Dijkstra, Dijkstra, Dijkstra… what the f are you doing?

Radovid asking Jaskier to sing… wow…

Chair and Gallatin.. I ship them now!

Fringilla… I almost didn’t recognise her…

HOLY MOLY… THAT SONG OF JASKIER'S IS SO SAD AND AMAZING! It’s about Geralt, right? Even Radovid noticed it!

Jaskier my boy, please stop being so sexy and put your feet of the table!

No, no, no Jaskier don’t trust Radovid! Please!

“Does the Witcher know how lucky he is to have you?” Is this freaking GERASKIER I'm hearing??? ❤️

What was that horrible monster? Creepy as hell!

NO, RIENCE, DON'T KILL THE CAT! Everyone else ok, but not the damn cat please!!!! (Cat wasn’t harmed)

Were Istredd and Tissaia a thing also in previous seasons? I don’t remember.

Poor Yennefer…

Fake Ciri???

Also Henry Cavill deserves an oscar for his performance. Nobody will ever be a better Geralt than him.

#the witcher #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #joey batey #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #henry cavill #the witcher season 3 #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #yennefer of vengerberg #anya chalotra #freya allan #ranting #spoilers #the Witcher spoilers

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lassieposting · 1 year

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Okay so that line with Jaskier and Lambert at the end of 2x08. Jaskier jokes, "Look at us, just a big old happy family, right?" and Lambert rather sharply retorts, "No," and limps past him with Ciri.

That seemed really sharp at first, and I thought it was just the writers and their thing where they handle Jask like nobody actually likes him despite him being one of the most likable characters, but then I was rewatching the ep and it occurred to me.

Lambert's just lost like, four family members.

We see Voleth!Ciri kill two Witchers, and then another two (three?) die in the final battle with the basilisks. Like, of course Lambert wouldn't be receptive to "happy family" comments. Some of his family are right there on the floor with their faces missing or their heads cut off. More are dead in their beds upstairs. Jaskier is Geralt's friend of 20 years, and the other Witchers have probably heard a lot about him from Geralt, but they've only known each other in person for a matter of days. A virtual stranger is no replacement for the family you just lost, and to Lambert it probably seemed like a really tasteless, tone-deaf comment to make, even though Jask didn't mean to wound.

So like. Understandable reaction, actually, yeah

#the witcher #the witcher meta #lambert #netflix witcher #maybe everyone else noticed this immediately and im just autistic but yeah

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carokind · 2 years

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My Bard | Geraskier

Another one I found in my drafts when I wanted to start a little new project. This one is Geraskier and it will feature another witcher.

I don't know what else to say, because I don't want to spoil anything. So... Enjoy!! ~~~~

My Bard | Geraskier | 3.4k

“Fuck!”

Jaskier looked up. He was just putting new strings on his lute. “What?”

“I am running low on a few potions,” Geralt explained.

“So…” Jaskier furrowed his brows. “Are they important? Like… important for the contract you have right now?”

“It’s the antidotes.” The witcher sighed deeply. “I’ll just have to be even more careful.”

The bard put his lute down and looked at the witcher. “Or what?”

“Every contract is a risk, Jask,” Geralt began, but stopped when the bard rapidly shook his head.

“Oh no. Oh, fuck no. You are not giving me the ‘I am even more likely to die’- speech now. If you don’t have sufficient resources, you won’t carry out the contract” Jaskier said firmly.

Geralt sighed again. “And risk the lives of the people of a whole village? That’s not how it works, Jaskier.”

“You losing your life will risk the lives of many more, Geralt. You are not going without sufficient potions” the bard raised his voice even more, even though he knew that he wouldn’t get through Geralt’s thick skull

“Jaskier. I’ll be fine. I always am” Geralt said and got up. “I’ll be back before you know it.” The witcher attached his weapons and the belt with the leftover potions to himself and walked up to the bard.

Jaskier got up and wanted to say something, but he decided against it. He knew better than trying to convince the witcher to give up the hunt he was about to go on. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the witcher’s neck and looked deeply into his eyes. “Come back to me, Geralt. You have to promise me.”

The witcher sighed. “You know that I can’t. But I will do my best” he said and leaned in to connect their lips in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you soon, dear Jask.” Jaskier smiled. “I’ll be waiting,” he said and kissed the witcher once more. “I love you.” “And I love you,” Geralt said before he turned away and left their little camp without looking back once.

Jaskier drew in a shaky breath knowing that there was not much he could do but wait until the witcher would come back. He always dreaded those moments and it seemed to be even worse this time because he knew that there was something wrong with Geralt’s potions.

The sun made its way across the sky while Jaskier waited. He tended to Roach, cleaned up the remains of their dinner from the night before and then he just laid down and stared into the sky. He wasn’t motivated to do anything else and grew more and more anxious with each minute that passed.

All of a sudden, the bard heard a pained grunt and the rustling of the trees. He sat up rapidly and looked around. “Fuck” he uttered when he saw the witcher stumbling on the little clearing. Even though he was dressed in black, Jaskier could see the blood shimmering wet on his left leg.

“Geralt” he called out and ran towards him. “What happened?”

“Fucking Rakiks” Geralt grunted. “They had an offspring. I didn’t expect it. Fuck.” Jaskier helped the witcher over to their camp and lowered him on the stump of a broad tree. “How bad is it? Is it… wait, Rakiks are poisenous. Shit, Geralt. Your antidotes.”

“It’s okay, Jaskier. It wasn’t a grown-up. I already took a potion, it’s just… It just hurts” Geralt said hoarsely.

Jaskier sighed. He quickly assessed the wound and sighed. “I don’t like this, Geralt. It’s a deep wound and the poison-”

“It won’t kill me, Jask. Stop worrying. I just have to rest and-” the witcher shifted and groaned again. “Fuck.” “Yeah, you are all peachy and fine,” Jaskier said sarcastically. “You need more antidotes. How many do you have left?” Without even waiting for the reply, Jaskier rummaged through the witcher’s belt and gasped. “One? Are you fucking kidding me? This is not running low on this is being out of potions.”

“Jask, please” Geralt tried again, but the bard shook his head.

“We need help. I heard rumours in the taverns that there was another witcher around, so I suggest we find whoever it is and hope that he has more potions. Or we’ll find a mage along the way. This will certainly put a huge dent into our savings but everything is better than seeing you die” Jaskier said.

Geralt sighed. “Jaskier, I won’t die. It’s just a wound. Calm down.” “I won’t until you are in tip-top shape. And I remember the last time you were poisoned. I had to give you one potion per hour for a whole night to help your blood fight the poison. So no, I am not going to calm down, Geralt.” Jaskier stopped and took a deep breath before he continued with a softer tone: “I worry about you, Geralt, because you mean too much to me. I don’t want to lose you. So please, let’s try to get you on Roach’s back and search for the witcher?”

It took Geralt a long moment to finally utter a soft grunt. He wanted nothing more than to lie down, but maybe, just maybe the bard was right and he needed more than the one antidote he still had with him. “I’m coming. Can you get me some water?”

Jaskier nodded. “Water. Alright. Coming right up.” He still was worried about the witcher but masked it by getting straight to work. He filled their wineskins at the creek and let Geralt drink as much as he needed while he packed up their things. He helped Geralt mount Roach and got on Guppy, his own, smaller, horse.

“How fast can you go, Geralt?” Jaskier asked.

In reply, the witcher just grunted and urged Roach to a quick trot.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and followed him as they made their way into the next settlement, hoping to find news of the other witcher.

In the village, Jaskier found out that the witcher was on a contract in the nearby marshlands, on the lookout for a kikimora.

Even though Geralt was protesting, Jaskier urged him to follow the witcher.

“We cannot just wait, Geralt. I see how you take little sips, small drops of your last bottle of antidote” Jaskier pointed out as he was riding his horse out of the village. “We need to find this witcher friend of yours and ask him for help.” “Eskel” Geralt grunted, following behind on Roach’s back.

“Hmm?”

“The witcher. It’s Eskel” Geralt returned.

Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “How do you know it’s him and not anyone else?”

“People mentioned a big scar on his face. We all have our scars but Eskel’s is the most prominent” Geralt said gruffly.

“Aaah,” Jaskier said, his face lighting up. Even though he hadn’t met the other witchers, Geralt had told him a lot about them. “So I’ll get to meet the brotheriest of your brothers? That’s great.”

The witcher groaned. “Jask.”

“What? Of course, you not dying is my main goal, don’t you worry, my dear” the bard said and looked around. “So… will you be able to trace him or smell him or something else? You know, use your witchery ways?”

“No” Geralt growled, “but-” he fell silent.

“But what?”

“Shh.” Geralt stopped Roach and raised his hand. He waited for a long moment and then rode on to the left.

“Geralt? What on earth?” Jaskier asked but he followed the witcher immediately, cursing when he jumped off Roach’s back and went further into the forest. The bard sighed when he noticed the limp in the witcher’s walk. He just hoped that they would find Eskel quickly.

The witcher stopped every now and then to listen to whatever he was able to pick up with his witcher senses and Jaskier followed him.

They walk like this for a few minutes, Jaskier always behind Geralt. He watched him closely because the witcher’s limp got worse with every single step.

At once, the witcher stopped and grabbed the flask with the antidote from his belt. He opened it and wanted to drink, but it was empty. He groaned. “Fuck.”

Jaskier gasped. “Geralt?” He walked up to him and took his hand. “Are you going to be okay?”

The witcher grimaced. “Maybe it was a good idea to search for Eskel straight away” he pressed out. He sighed. “Come on, this way. You should hear it by now, a fighting kikimora is not exactly quiet.”

Jaskier furrowed his brows and then heard the screeching. “Oh yes. Now I know. Do you want to wait here and I’ll get Eskel?”

“I’m okay,” Geralt said. He walked on, this time with Jaskier next to him, always ready to support him if needed, but of course, Geralt was too proud to rely on his boyfriend’s help.

They reached Eskel as he was separating the monster’s head from its body.

“Eskel?” Jaskier spoke up when he spotted the witcher.

The man looked up, his eyes still black from his elixirs. He disregarded Jaskier and only had eyes for the other witcher, who dropped down on a fallen tree. “Geralt?” His voice was a growl. “What happened?”

“Rakiks” Geralt returned, holding onto his hurt leg. “And I ran out of antidote.”

“For fucks sake” Eskel growled and pulled a flask out of his belt with which he hurried over to Geralt. “Drink.”

Geralt did so and sighed once he had finished the elixir. His leg felt better in an instant. “Thanks,” he said and smiled up at his brother.

Eskel just grunted and went back to work on the kikimora. “I can’t believe you got into a fight with rakiks without having enough antidotes with you,” he said after a moment. “Bloody bastards the lot of them.”

Geralt scoffed. “I didn’t exactly have a choice now, did I? It was a contract and lives were at risk.”

“Geralt, even I told you to ditch the contract” Jaskier decided to speak up while he was busy checking the witcher’s wound which was, to his surprise, looking better than before. He thought that Eskel would notice him at once but the dark-haired wither was now securing a rope to the kikimora’s head, probably for transport.

“I got it the first time,” Geralt said, sounding annoyed.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Sorry that I was worried about you. Won’t happen again” he said and got up again when Eskel approached them. His eyes were looking human again.

“Who are you?” He asked and eyed Jaskier up and down.

The bard decided to disregard the gruff demeanour of the other witcher. He knew that the elixirs influenced Geralt’s mood and was sure that it was the same for Eskel. He cleared his throat. “I’m Jaskier. Short for Julian Alfred Pankratz. I’m Geralt’s-”

“He’s my…” Geralt interrupted him. “He’s my bard.”

“Your bard?” Eskel couldn’t help but grin. “I didn’t know we’re having bards now.”

“I…” Jaskier didn’t know what to say. “Well I am travelling with him and I do sing about him so technically he is right and I am his bard. But I pride myself as a spokesman for all the witchers. You deserve much more praise for the work you do.”

“Oh, it’s you who sang this obnoxious song? Toss a coin to your witcher and so on?” Eskel laughed. “I hate it with a passion, but I feel like I am making more coin.”

Jaskier was taken aback by the dark-haired witcher's brutal honesty. He raised an eyebrow as he observed how Eskel knelt down and looked at Geralt’s wound.

“Oh, I took care of it. Wasn’t too deep so he didn’t need stitches but I guess it didn’t heal properly because he needed more antidote” he then explained, satisfied with his work.

“My, my Geralt, it seems as if he is not only your bard but also your healer” Eskel said jokingly. “But he is right. No stitches, but maybe more antidote later. You’ll get a nice scar.”

Geralt chuckled. “It still won’t be as impressive as yours. Word got around that a witcher was in the last settlement and I knew it was you because they mentioned your scar.”

“What should I say, Geralt, I’m one of a kind” Eskel joked back and got back up. “Now, where is your horse? We should get out of here. I have to get my coin and you look like you need a barrel of ale.”

“They’re over there,” the white-haired witcher said and pointed in the direction where he and Jaskier had come from.

“Mine is in the other direction,” Eskel said. “Shall we meet in the village?”

Geralt got up and nodded before he finally hugged his brother. “It is so good to see you again.”

Eskel smiled into the hug. “Always good to see a friendly face on the path” he agreed before he let go. “Now. Dinner is on me, old friend. And the inn should have some rooms left. It’s a shithole but not worse than Kaer Morhen.” With these words, he turned around, shouldered the head of the kikimora and went into the forest.

“Come, Jask,” Geralt said as he turned away from the clearing. “Food and ale are waiting for us.”

The bard was still thinking about what had just happened but when he saw that Geralt was already walking away, he hurried and stumbled after him. “Geralt, wait!”

Geralt stopped for a moment to let the Jaskier catch up with him.

“Thanks.” Jaskier’s voice sounded sarcastic, which Geralt noticed immediately.

“What is it now, Jaskier?”

The bard scoffed. “Oh now you’re asking” he began. “My bard. You called me your bard. So this is what I am to you? Your bard? Your healer? Maybe even your cook or your whore?”

Geralt sighed deeply. “Jaskier you know that this is not what I meant. It’s Eskel who interpreted things like this. You know that you’re so much more to me. It’s just…”

Jaskier stopped in his tracks. “Wait. You haven’t told them? You said you’d…”

“Jask… it’s not that easy” Geralt said, his voice surprisingly soft.

“Oh, it isn’t? But lying to me is, apparently” Jaskier said sharply. When Geralt wanted to take his hand, he pulled his arm away. “Oh no, Geralt, you’re not getting away this easy this time.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said. “It is true that I never told them. I… I just didn’t know how. I… it’s difficult. It feels as if I am leading two different lives. One with you, on the path and the other one at Kaer Morhen. I need them both, but…”

The bard sighed. “Geralt,” he said softly. He really wanted to be angry at the witcher, but in a way he understood him. Their life on the path and the other witchers at Kaer Morhen never touched. In addition, he didn’t know how the witchers felt about relationships between two males.

Jaskier didn’t know what to say and it was Geralt who spoke up again: “Look, Jask, I’m sorry. I should’ve told them. Or you” Geralt said. “I just didn’t expect it to happen like this.”

“Me neither. I could’ve gone without the part where you almost died” Jaskier returned, trying to lighten the mood. He knew that he had every right to be irritated, but he didn’t want to fight with his witcher.

“I did not almost die. I would’ve needed a while to recover, but-” Geralt stopped himself, he knew that there was a small chance that Jaskier was right. There was a small chance that the rakik had been too mature, the venom too strong. So he just nodded. “Yes, I’m glad that we met Eskel. He is fun to be around, you’ll see. There’s a reason why he’s the one I feel closest to.”

They reached their horses and mounted them. Jaskier was glad to see that Geralt didn’t seem to have much of a problem with his leg now. “Okay. I… I’ll stay in the background then. I’ll be… your bard.”

“Companion, Jaskier. You are my companion, my partner. My… love” Geralt said softly.

“Oh, Geralt. How can I be cross with you when you say such sweet things” Jaskier said and smiled at the witcher.

“It’s just the truth. You’re my love, not my bard, or cook and definitely not my whore” Geralt pointed out as they were riding out of the forest.

“No? There are times you’d beg to differ, my dearest witcher,” Jaskier said with a smirk on his face.

Geralt shook his head. “You’re unbelievable my love.”

Back in the village, they made their way to the inn where Jaskier bargained for rooms and food against a performance by him. And as always the innkeeper agreed and brought more food than the three of them would be able to eat in more than one sitting.

While they were eating, Jaskier stayed relatively quiet. He listened to Geralt and Eskel catching up on other witchers, contracts and beasts. It was astonishing to see the two witchers talk to each other avidly contrary to their reputation to be gruff and monosyllabic.

Once the bard had eaten as much as he could stomach, he excused himself to fresh up and get his lute.

When he returned, he saw that the two witchers were still sitting at their table with fresh jugs of beer in front of them. They were still talking amongst themselves, but Geralt looked up the moment Jaskier cleared his throat and started his performance. The bard winked at the white-haired witcher but was quick to shift his focus to the crowd.

Usually, he would flirt with Geralt every now and then, especially when he sang the odd ballad about him. But this time, he kept it low. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was still a little miffed about the fact that Geralt hadn’t told the other witchers about their relationship, still, he would never expose it to Geralt’s closest friend.

After about a half of his usual set, the bard announced that he would be taking a break and got himself a fresh jug of ale and joined the witchers again. “Hey. You’re enjoying yourselves?”

To his surprise, the witcher leaned in and kissed his temple. “We are. Wonderful music, and time to catch up with my brother some more. Tell him about a few new things in my life.”

“Oh? Oh.” Jaskier looked over to Eskel and then back at Geralt. “You… you told him?”

“Of course, he did” Eskel chimed in. “I am a bit… mad that he kept it a secret for so long.”

“Why is that?” Jaskier wanted to know.

“Us witchers… we don’t get to fall in love, usually” the witcher started. “We’re on the path all year round and when we aren’t, we’re in Kaer Morhen. So it’s usually only the physical things for me, you know…”

“Prostitutes” Jaskier filled in. “I get it. I know that Geralt used to have them keep him company as well.”

“Yeah… so knowing that one of my brothers managed to find someone to actually love him gives me hope that there might be someone out there for me as well,” Eskel said.

“Someone who tolerates your lame jokes without being paid for it?” Geralt returned. “I doubt it.”

Jaskier noticed that even though his words were harsh, Geralt’s voice was soft.

“Well, apparently you found someone who deals with you trying to communicate in grunts all the time?” Eskel shot back, the same soft tone in his voice.

“I actually understand each and every one of them, Eskel” Jaskier spoke up. “Honestly, I think that Geralt and I can hold a full conversation without him even saying a word.”

“Wow.” Eskel seemed to be astonished.

“Oh, it’s nothing” Jaskier continued. “Over time he started to talk more and more anyway.” He finished his ale quickly and got up again. “I should continue playing or people will be too drunk and leave before I finish.” He leaned down and pecked Geralt’s lips, winked at Eskel and then left the table.

Eskel opened his mouth to say something, but Geralt held up his hand. “Don’t.”

The dark-haired witcher just grinned and leaned over to slap Geralt on the back hard. “You are so smitten, Geralt. He’s got you wrapped around one of his nimble fingers.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Eskel, I said don’t.”

Eskel chuckled lowly. “Oh no, Geralt. I mean look at him: he learned your language and he follows you on the path. This guy is a keeper.”

Geralt sighed deeply. He looked at Jaskier and then back at his witcher brother. “I know, Eskel.”

~~~~

#Geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #eskel #Jaskier

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annmarcus63 · 2 years

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I'm deeply curious to know how you might fix the fox-thing for the post-mountain fight because I can see jask forgiving geralt yet refusing to follow or shift now that he "knows" how much of a curse he is. I feel like that would leave its mark and wonder how their relationship might change because of it

Gosh, it took me so long to reply, but I got a small scene for you dear anon. It's not precisely the answer you're looking for but a part of it. Mix Jaskier and Geralt POV, hope it's not too confusing.

This is part of this post FoxJaskier

...A fox! I should have known. If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!

Geralt stands at the edge of the mountain, stern looking face and clenched fists. The wind's howling. Cold spikes seep into the exposed skin of his neck and face and he feels fine, perfectly fine. He wanted to hurt Jaskier, to finally drove him away. He succeeded by crossing a line, a delicate yet resilient line that bard and witcher have built thru the years by truly and deeply trust in each other. Jaskier love him despite his monstrous side, despite everything. Geralt loves him too, love the fox inside the bard, so... why did he cut so deep? Why? A simple fuck off would have been enough, so why did he have to be a monster? By the time Geralt turns and strides up the hill it's almost dark. The last blink of the sun illuminating the rock in a soft blue and gray hue. He needs to fix this. If Jaskier have been the one to shout his monstrosity back to him, Geralt'd have die... but Jaskier would never do that. Jaskier is not a monster. Geralt tracks the bard in the dark, even though he knows there's no way to fix this, he went too far. He lost his fox, his beautiful fox.

Jaskier is walking on the path with light footsteps, he needs to find a place to camp but, well...he doesn't care that much anymore. He's bleeding a great deal, dark warm blood leaving a trace behind, metaphorically, of course. There's no apparent wound on him, but he feels like dying. His fox trembles and cries uncontrollably inside his chest, Jaskier doesn't cry. He thought, both of them, that they were safe with Geralt. Geralt is...was...home. His mother words come back to him, warning him to never show what he truly is or else...

His legs walk on their own, this body is no longer his, he's the ghost of a monster. His fox whimpers inside his ribcage and Jaskier feels sorry for him, it believed Geralt loved him, not romantically but... what a moron. Naive stupid fox.

And then he hears his name

"Jaskier!" Geralt. His fox crawls and tries to hide. The witcher calls and calls for him.

"What do you want, Geralt? You forgot to say something? There's no need, I'm leaving." As seeing a play, Jaskier sees a hand on his shoulder because he can't feel anymore, he realizes he's in shock.

Geralt tries to talk to him, to make him stop and listen but Jaskier keeps going. The moon illuminating the path, the unforgiving wind singing a cruel song for them. He has to fix this. He runs past Jaskier, a couple of meters so Jaskier can see him before he passes. The witcher calls to his true form, his shape mends into a four-leg animal, a white wolf. The bard stops dead on his tracks. The wolf whines as it bends his neck in a clear sign of reverence, its ears flat on its head, the snout between its powerful paws. To be reverenced by an animal form it is a custom from old tales of worthy heroes and kings. The white wolf cries and the sound shakes Jaskier's bones. Jaskier approaches the wolf, he has waited all his life to see Geralt's form, but this wasn't how he imagine it. The white wolf begs him for forgiveness and prays his regret in deep whimpers. Jaskier kneels in front of the magnificent animal. The wolf stands and tries to touch him with its snout, but Jaskier avoids it. They locked eyes for a moment and then Jaskier says "You're beautiful" just how I imagine you'd be "Goodbye, Geralt" The wolf whines one last time before his fox, his beautiful and perfect pack fox walks away from him.

What Geralt does it's considered a great honour. Something that Geralt would never have thought he would do for anyone not even Yennefer. and Jaskier knows this, that's why he tells him he's beautiful. Jaskier trust is broken severely so, but Geralt would keep trying to prove himself worthy of have a fox by his side.

Maybe Geralt would follow Jaskier around in his wolf form, idk, i want to write more of this, i'd like to know your ideas.

#geralt x jaskier #geraskier #the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #foxjaskier #i love foxes #sorry for the angst #i'm that kind of person

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