#nobleman geralt

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 4

Geralt is the captain of a pirate ship, named "Kaer Morhen." Perhaps he's still a witcher, perhaps he's just a regular old human (with white hair and golden eyes? Lol) His brothers (and "cousins" from other witcher schools) Now I can see this going two different ways, so choose a favorite (or make up your own, I am only the beginning, I hold no affront of being anything more) Jaskier is a nobleman's son, aboard his family's ship, possibly on his way to be forced into a marriage to a woman he doesn't love. And either he falls overboard or he's shoved off as a murder attempt, but he's lost in the ocean. Lambert (or someone else, but I love to imagine how Lambert would attempt to call this out to his captain who he doesn't take seriously 90% of the time, #brothers) calls that he spots a man bobbing in the sea, and they haul him up. The majority of the crew sees sight of his jewels and finery and insists on holding him ransom. But when the prisoner wakes up and isn't afraid of death, Geralt looks into this a little more. Apparently their prisoner won't get a ransom because his entire family despise him and his want to run away and become a bard. Funny. Most pirate ships have entertainers aboard to help the pirates deal with months of nothing but ocean. Perhaps they'll have use of this dumb twink after all. OR, option number two Jaskier is a nobleman's son, chained and starved for the crime of wanting to become a bard and not wanting to marry some prissy noblewoman. He hears a lot of loud noises and screams and then a bunch of burly men in fur cloaks stomp down and start rifling through their supplies. One catches eye of him and immediately yells to the captain. The captain is a very handsome man with silver locks and bright eyes, and the dreaded pirate captain is treating Jaskier with more kindness and gentleness than his family or their workers ever have. The pirate hauls Jaskier up into his arms and carries him to their own ship, laying him down in his own bed, and looking over his injuries and sending one of his crewmembers to make hm a fine meal. Jaskier begins telling the captain of his abusive life beforehand and mentions that all he's ever wanted is to spread music and love, and shockingly enough, this big scary (gorgeous) man doesn't even laugh at him for it.. Oh fuck he's falling in love-

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Geralt gayly teaching his bard how to swordfight!!!

• Perhaps Jaskier's family is crueler and has done more than beat him, perhaps they've stabbed him or something, and the very last thing he sees before he passes out from bloodloss is Geralt (Maybe he even thinks he's an angel! Lmfao)

• Geralt getting lovingly bullied by his brothers for taking care of his songbird so well

• Geralt's crew revenge-robbing or revenge-killing Jaskier's family if we do Option one for the story (attempted-murder route), since it's implied it happens in Option Two while they ransack the ship-

• Perhaps I'll do a sequel for this prompt one day for Mermaid Jaskier, I do LOVE mermaids, take this as a much smaller and much less detailed prompt for if you want that idea, too! Perhaps the Pankratz ship has a captured mer aboard, parched and dehydrated (I just mostly think it'd be funny if Geralt was checking his pulse and if he has any injuries while random other witches dump buckets of sea water on him-)

[batbusiness-schooldropout]

*Jaskier and Yen talking*

Geralt: Fuck

Ciri: What's wrong?

Geralt: They're getting along

Ciri: Isn't that a good thing?

*Jaskier and Yen discussing the pros and cons of killing a nobleman who short changed Geralt*

Geralt: No

[thedemonofcat]

Jaskier keeps the fact that he’s a Selkie hidden from everyone. Even Geralt’s, and it’s not that Jaskier doesn’t trust the Witcher, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry.

It’s sometime after their paring on the mountain when a nobleman hires Geralt to find a Selkie’s Pelt. One belongs to a nearby Selkie, whom the nobleman lies about the identity of.

Geralt is tricked into stealing Jaskier’s pelt

[mochalottie]

Masterlist

(Because even though no one asked for one...I wanted to do it to keep my brain entertained)

Avatar (Cameron Movies)

Oel Ngati Kameie (37k+ words) Series about Spider being adopted into the Sully. Post Way of Water.

To protect (2k words) Oneshot about Spider being injured on the SeaDragon.

Baby Mine (6.5k words) 5 times Spider called someone Mom or Dad and one time someone called him Son.

Eywa Provides (23k words) Multi chapter, complete - Feral Na'vi Spider living alone in the forest who is, surprise surprise, adopted by the Sullys.

Our Hearts Beat in the Womb of the World (115k words) Multi chapter, complete - Spider is adopted by Tonowari and Ronal. That's it. That's the fic.

For the Nights and Days of Life (387k words) Multi chapter, complete - All humans leave Pandora after the final battle leaving Spider behind. Oh, and he’s blessed by Eywa. That’s it. That’s the fic.

You Brought light, and new life (78k words) Multi chapter, complete - The comfort fic/sequel that everyone (surprisingly) wanted and I definitely needed.

What am I supposed to do, dance with it? (8k) Oneshot - Spider turns into a tiger. That's it. That's the fic.

Let the Wind Carry Us to the Clouds Multi chapter, ongoing - Aka the ikran racing!au I've snatched up and twisted into my own version, which features some Nocorro but centrics around our boy Spider!

Every Family has Someone Who Falls Multi chapter, ongoing - the time loop au where Spider is thoroughly put through the wringer.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

When You Can't Look on the Brightside, I'll Sit with You in the Dark (63k words) Multi chapter - a Zukka Alice in Wonderland AU where Sokka is Alice and Ozai is the Red King.

If Music is the Food of Love, Play On (4k words) Oneshot - Zuko essentially pining after Sokka in a Modern AU

Final Fantasy XV

Stronger than the Tides (13k words) Oneshot - Mermaid AU for Reverse Big Bang 2023

Blessed be the Boys Time Can't Capture (6k words) Oneshot - heads of families in Eos are vessels for the Greek Gods.

FFXV Song ficlets Series of Oneshots based on songs by Lauv. Includes multiple ships and AUs.

New Dawn (74k words) Multi chapter, complete - Ignis x Male!OC

Star Wars Prequels

Rock You Like a Hurricane Multi chapter, second part abandoned -The Obikin Band AU with Obi-Wan on drums, Anakin with vocals, Rex on Bass and Ahsoka on Guitar

The Mandalorian

Chakaar (22k words) Oneshot - Din Djarin x Male!OC Where a curious thief gets too involved with a grumpy Mandalorian and gains a family in return.

Inheritance Cycle

The World Ahead Multi chapter, incomplete - The Eragon/LOTR crossover that no one seemed to need, but two people very much wanted.

The Witcher

Destiny Changed Series of Oneshots - Jaskier is a Witcher and falls in love for Geralt the Nobleman. That's it, that's the series.

Voltron Legendary Defender

Space Family to the Rescue (1k words) Oneshot - Sick Keith is cared for by his Space Family.

Love is Endless (6k words) Oneshot - Keith pines for Lance in a Modern AU.

(Techni)Colour Vision (60k words) Multi chapter, complete - Klance through many film AUs.

[catscraftsandcommentary]

@dahliavandare building on that post about various nobles taunting Jaskier to go full Insulted Bard and Geralt needing help pulling him out...

(That post was getting long, so I started a new one, shh)

Lambert hears through the witcher rumor mill (which is TOTALLY A THING, work with me, okay?) that a) Geralt is nearby with his bard b) the bard will be performing at some fancy party soon c) the bard has A Habit of making A Scene during such parties, and if anyone who knows Geralt is in the area, PLEASE HELP.

Lambert and Aiden share a look. "I really want to, but if someone doesn't kill this chort [or other horrible monster], this village is gonna get wiped out. And I'm better at them than you."

Aiden nods. "I could help your brother. Leave you our bombs and potions, anything you think you'll need, and go be a distraction at the party."

"Just don't let him stab you, or I'll have to dye his fucking hair a godsdamned rainbow this winter."

Which is how Aiden ends up sneaking into the rafters of a nobleman's ballroom just as some idiot challenges a brightly dressed bard to play a certain song.

When a white-haired witcher growls very quietly and starts looking into the shadows of the ceiling, Aiden figures he's found the right pair. So he mutters (just loudly enough for the other witcher to hear him) "Lambert says you still owe him for stealing his devourer teeth last winter" and drops down while Geralt is still getting over his surprise.

(Because how the hell does some random - Cat witcher?!? - know Lambert well enough to know about them borrowing potion ingredients from each other?)

Aiden grins at Jaskier, who has done a masterful job of not showing his surprise st having a witcher land right in front of him. "Hi! I'm your brother-in-law. Let's dance."

And he pulls the bard into a tango just as the White Wolf launches himself forward. The next several minutes are spent in a three way dance, with Geralt trying to either rescue Jaskier or strangle Aiden, Aiden working to thwart Geralt, and Jaskier demanding answers regarding the "brother-in-law" comment.

Eventually Aiden pulls Jaskier through an open window and escapes with him (carried bridal style, of course) to lead Geralt on a merry chase back to the spot where he and Lambert agreed to meet up earlier, once Lambert finished his contract.

Of course, by now Jaskier has the gist of the situation - Geralt's brother sent Aiden to help, Geralt wasn't expecting Aiden, Aiden and Geralt's brother Lambert are both very excited to meet Jaskier - and has moved on to questions about if witchers each have their own hunting styles, preferred monsters, etc.

[limerental]

ficletvember 2023 - day 11

twn yennefer & radovid, background yennskier and radskier

While attending Vizimir's funeral, Yennefer finds herself approached my Radovid and is surprised when he asks after Jaskier.

cw for my questionable attempts of book/show canon blending. I've chosen to interpret yen's visit to geralt in brokilon as a dream sequence here.

The grueling slog of constant politics in the weeks after the Thanned disaster left Yennefer feeling like a shade of herself, roaming the battered halls of Aretuza like a ghostly apparition.

Most of the superficial damage had been repaired, but magic could not heal all. Her own life felt in utter shambles. She'd been barred from entering Brokilon to sit at Geralt's bedside except in moonlit half-dreams, and for all her frantic attempts at scanning, could not locate Ciri.

Though poorly-suited to diplomatic problem-solving, Yennefer grit her teeth and flitted from problem to problem.

Nilfgaard marched north. Aedirn called for aid. Rivia and Lyria burned. Temeria had closed its borders to refugees and cut a deal with the invaders. Redania's monarch had been slain. 

Yennefer could solve none of those difficulties. Part of her wished she could simply sit back and allow the whole mess to burn. 

Instead, she attended a funeral. 

By the size of the crowd that swelled to fill Tretogor's largest cathedral, King Vizimir had been much-loved by his people, or perhaps Redanians simply loved a spectacle.

From a back pew, Yennefer clenched her fists in her lap as Philippa Eilhart gave a rousing speech about her dead king's many achievements. Most were likely false, as was the tale of his untimely passing. Sigismind Dijkstra loomed beside her with arms folded, grim face revealing nothing.

Nought could be done to challenge Philippa for her involvement that night on Thanned or the suspicious death of her king. Yennefer could only watch and project her anger, hoping Philippa would feel her grief even in the throng of mourners.

Did you even shed a tear when you learned of her passing? You are as culpable as I am in that loss.

Redania's future monarch looked like no more than a boy and also seemed a breath from weeping as he offered his own curt eulogy. Radovid rubbed at his reddened nose and spoke candidly that though his brother had had his flaws, he would grieve the man for the rest of his days. They were the first honest words that had been spoken at the funeral.

If she concentrated, Yennefer could pretend that a crowd this massive had gathered for her own small losses. No ordinary merchant or nobleman had wept for Tissaia de Vreis. Geralt, when he inevitably succumbed, would be buried by the dryads in some sacred grove that only they would remember. Ciri's body may never be found.

By chance, Radovid looked through the crowd and met Yennefer's eyes. They had never met, but he seemed to recognize her and find her presence there very interesting. His distracted gaze kept leaping back to her through the rest of the ceremony.

She blended poorly with the mourners adorned in Redanian red. He found her easily afterward, though she had made little attempt to hide from him, stealing into an empty corridor where perhaps they would not be interrupted.

When he grabbed her by the arm, she stared pointedly at it until he sheepishly released her.

“Radovid,” he introduced needlessly. 

“Yes I've heard of you,” Yennefer drawled. The boy blushed pink. She could not decide how old he was, his fair curls and expressive features making him appear almost child-like. 

“You're Yennefer of Vengerberg,” Radovid said.

"The very same."

She expected some petition or praise fed to him by Philippa to follow, some acknowledgement of her new position in the ruins of the Brotherhood. This man was only a puppet compelled by the sharp of Philippa's talon. She did not expect the words that followed. 

“You are close with Jaskier. Can you tell me where is? Is he alright? There's no word since that night and I– well, I tried to send letters but as it happens, one needs an address to send them to. I fear I have thrown several from the castle windows and hoped they find him somehow, but that seems to have been rather ineffecfive.”

Ah, thought Yennefer. Redania's rising monarch was an imbecile. 

“What do you want with him?” she asked. 

Though Yennefer had warned the bard that Brokilon was closed to outsiders, that he was more likely to take an arrow to the throat than convince the dryads to allow him entry, she had seen Jaskier off with the help of a portal that would drop him nearer the forest. That had been a week ago now. 

She had not heard word of his untimely death at least. No word of Geralt either.

Radovid looked at her with glassy eyes, his mouth warped down into a mournful pout.

“I simply wanted to tell him… that circumstances have prevented me from going after him as I wished. That if I could be freed of my royal duties, I would have... well, I would follow him anywhere, but I–”

“Ah, fuck,” said Yennefer, dumbfounded. When had the little jester found time to fuck Redanian royalty? She could wring his neck. If he wasn't already dead. “You know I cannot tell you anything.”

“I thought so. He spoke highly of your devotion, Yennefer. That you could be trusted. I'd only hoped… well.”

Yennefer refused to go warm at the thought of Jaskier's praise. Radovid's words were likely empty attempts to suss out the location of anyone loyal to the witcher in the hopes that the girl would be with them.

“You, I cannot trust, and I doubt he had reason to either,” she said with more bite than intended. Radovid's pitiful flinch and blinking, wet eyes almost made her feel a pang of guilt. 

Perhaps he was just an unfortunate victim of circumstance.

“Will you tell him… if you meet him could you tell him. Well. That I love him.” Radovid's voice shook. If he was nothing but Philippa's thrall, he was a wretchedly convincing actor. “I know it was only the one night but I- oh God, you're his lover too aren't you? I…”

The witless confession of the would-be monarch should have made her shake with mirth. If she did not know Jaskier, she would say it was laughablely unrealistic that he could so thoroughly woo a prince in only one night. That it must be some ploy.

But Radovid had guessed right. In the wake of Thanned, she had slept each night in the foolish man's arms, both taking solace in the other. She knew how quickly and how deeply sentiment for the man could grow.

She tried to imagine how it had happened, prince and bard, and thought that they must have looked good together, intertwined in secret.

But it may still be a ploy. And anyway, she truly knew not much more than Radovid. Her little, hopeful glimpse of family had been rent apart, perhaps forever.

She could not weep as freely as Radovid seemed able to. Her last tears had dried that first night in Jaskier's arms, unmoored by grief but drifting together. 

Alone again, she had no time for weeping. She could only pray that Jaskier had found their witcher and could offer the same comfort he had given her.

And pray that their daughter would find her way to them again.

She had that small hope to cling to at least.

Radovid, if he were not lying through his teeth, must feel horribly alone.

She could offer him some comfort, at least.

“Write me here,” she said, summoning a scrap of paper into his hands. “I will respond if I can with what word I am able. At least to let you know he is alive."

She touched his arm a moment and then turned aside. She had business to see to with Philippa, though the thought of that duplicitous conversation to come made her feel a looming sour disdain. 

“He was right about you,” said Radovid after her. “You are far kinder than you appear.”

His voice was earnest. Far too earnest to survive long in the ugly, putrid heart of Redania. Poor boy. For his sake, Yennefer hoped he was more clever than he seemed. Philippa would eat him alive and peck at his entrails for every last morsel.

“Be careful about spreading rumors like that,” she said, smiling her perfect politician's smile back at him. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

[writeshite]

Geralt getting hired to escort a nobleman's scandalous younger brother through monster territory and trying very, very (not really) hard to not sleep with him

"Take care Witcher, my brother is no ordinary man."

Geralt hadn't thought that those words pertained to your absolute lack of self-control; normal people wouldn't think out loud, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but Witchers don't practice abstinence?". He'd had to take a moment to process your words before doing a glance back to find you staring at him with a smirk.

"No," he responds, avoiding your gaze, "we do not."

"Good to know." You turn your back to him, returning to your things; Geralt peeks some rope, something he thinks could be a gag, and a few other things in your possessions. He tries not to think what those are for, and if he has to fake hunting to jerk himself off in the woods, then that's no one's business than his own.

[kueble]

Calm in the Storm

Someone spotted Sam the Baker in the background of the ferry scene and I had to write this. It's just Jaskier and Sam talking about their new relationships, so it's mostly gen with background Jaskier/Radovid.

Gen. Warnings : Canon Typical Violence and Season 3 spoilers. 1,200 words.

Jaskier & Sam the Baker, background Jaskier/Radovid

---

Geralt and Ciri should be here any moment now, but Jaskier spots another familiar face while he scans the crowd.  He waves in greeting and the man smiles wide before making his way over to him.

"Jaskier!" He cries out, dragging him into a tight embrace.  "How are you doing?  Why are you all the way out here?  Are you helping with the ball, too?"

"One question at a time, my dear Sam," Jaskier says, laughing as he pecks him quickly on the cheek.  In days past, it would have been on the mouth, but Jaskier’s heart seems to have latched onto his little prince.  Radovid and Sam lead as different lives as possible, but they're so similar; both kind and caring and so sweet to him.

"Glad you aren't pushing for more," Sam says with a shy smile.  "I've finally taken a husband."

"Congratulations, my dear friend!" Jaskier exclaims before hugging him tighter.  "Tell me all about him."

"Teddy is the miller's son, and apparently I was spending more time there than even a baker needs to.  He took the initiative and started courting me.  Sadly, it took me far too long to notice what he was doing.  But we got there eventually, and we'll be married half a year by the time I get home from this ball."

"That sounds perfectly you," Jaskier tells him with a snort.  "I find myself a bit enraptured with someone myself.  He seems to be a good man, but we have yet to figure things out.  He is…incredible.  Just truly brilliant and funny and yet there is a softness under the armor he's put up to protect himself from life at court."

"Ah, a fellow nobleman, then?  That sounds like a good match for you.  I have never seen you look so smitten, so I hope it works out for you," Sam says.  Then he looks back at his travel companions, shaking his head at the man waving at him.  "Looks like my apprentice has a problem again. You'd think baking for a large party would be an adventure and not so worrisome."

"I look forward to seeing you again," Jaskier pats him on the back and watches him wander away.  He tries to keep in touch with past lovers, and has always made a point to swing by Sam's bakery whenever he could.  Normally they fell into bed together, Jaskier playing his body like a fine instrument all night long followed by Sam spoiling him with sweets come morning.

Usually moving someone from lover to old flame tugs at his heartstrings considerably  more than it does today.  He knows a certain cheeky prince has a lot to do with that, and he vows to find an excuse to visit after the ball.  He sits back down and waits for Geralt and Ciri to arrive, feeling a tad lighter than before. 

—

Jaskier holds back his tears as he leaves Radovid, not ready to process everything that just happened.  A fucking prince would give up everything he has to follow him around the continent?  It’s a heady kind of power, and not one Jaskier is sure he deserves.  However hurt he was this morning, his heart still yearns for Radovid.  The pain on his face when Jaskier gave him an escape route and said they couldn't be together yet was enough to convince Jaskier that his actions were driven by fear and his feelings are true.

But right now the building is in ruins and there’s a fucking bloodbath surrounding him, so Jaskier has to lock down his thoughts and focus on the present.  He’s going room by room, frantically looking for Geralt or Yennefer, and doesn’t notice the familiar face at first.  He stands in the doorway and looks at Sam peering around an overturned table.

“Sam?” he asks, and the man stands up slowly.  There’s no blood on him, but his eyes are wide with fear and Jaskier’s heart goes out to him.  Jaskier is more indifferent to violence than the average person, and Sam most likely never left his home before.

“Jaskier!” he spits out, voice trembling as he crosses the room and pulls Jaskier into a tight hug.  “What the fuck happened here?  One minute I’m in the guest room they provided and the next I’m running for my life and stuck in the middle of a battle.  Is it safe now?”

“Not exactly, though it is better,” Jaskier assures him while thinking how he can help.  He trusted Radovid to handle his contacts and travel alone, but Sam is different.  “Wait here, and I’ll come back with help, can you do that?”

“Sure thing,” Sam says with a laugh.  “I’ll go back to cowering behind the table.”

“I may not be back, but I promise I’ll send someone to get you out of here,” he says, hugging Sam one last time before leaving the room and walking back out into the chaos.  He’ll get Sam back to his miller’s son one way or another.

He tries to avoid looking at the bodies strewn about, but it’s hard not to.  So much loss and all for no reason.  He sighs and pushes on until he distractedly runs right into someone.  “So sorry!” he mumbles before he recognizes the person in front of him.  “Keira!”

“If it isn’t Yennefer’s bard,” she says with a grin.

“More of the mages’ bard at this point,” Jaskier tells her softly.  And it’s true.  He may have started out with just Yennefer, but he makes sure to introduce himself to any mages he comes across on his travels.  Sometimes it’s a way to get news of his friends, and sometimes it’s simply a way to find a friendly face in the middle of this gods damned war.  He has always had a soft spot for Keira and her fiery personality.

“I am so glad you are here.  You look relatively unharmed?” Jaskier asks hopefully.

“Just so fucking tired my bones ache, and I’m ignoring everything else until we get to safety.  There may not be many survivors, but it’s our job to protect them and lead them out of our home,” Keira tells him quickly.

“I hope you have the strength to help one more.  I left a friend at the first doorway on the left, and he was here to help with the catering.  He won’t know how to get himself home without a little help,” he explains and thankfully she nods quickly.

“Go find Yennefer, and I’ll see to your friend.  I’ll even work for free this time!” she jokes, and Jaskier clings to the way they can both still find joy in a time like this.

“I’ll write a song about you,” Jaskier promises, “Something sultry and mystical.  I’ll have it ready before we meet again.”

“Take care of yourself, bard,” she tells him before heading towards Sam’s room.  Jaskier watches her for a moment before continuing his search for Geralt and Yennefer.  He’s taken care of as many people as he can, and he needs to make sure his family is safe now.

[27dragons]

New Year Countdown: Dec 23

In theory, this is a steampunk AU, but I don't know how well I achieved that. Steampunk was tisfan's thing, mostly. I did amuse myself with how I fit the prompt into it, though, so that's something. :D

Dec 23 - Geraskier - Steampunk AU - Jingle Bells

Geralt watched the giant dirigible descend with a near-tangible sense of dread. “Do I have to do this?”

“You owe me,” Jaskier returned. He latched his leather sailing coat closed and gave the gear several turns to ensure it stayed fastened snugly in the brisk winds of the upper atmosphere, his sleeves jingling merrily as they moved. “It’s only a party, Geralt. No need to look so glum.”

“I’ve every reason to look glum,” Geralt grumbled, but he managed to fasten his own coat without fumbling too much, or setting off the bedamned bells on his own sleeves any more than was necessary. He didn’t wear this sort of thing often, preferring to keep his feet on the ground whenever possible. When it wasn’t, he’d rather be wearing leathers, not a nobleman’s unnecessarily complicated clothing. And definitely not the latest fashion for putting miniature bells on the extremities of the clothing to jangle and tinkle with every tiny motion. “I look like a fool.”

“You look extremely delectable,” Jaskier corrected, fussing with his collar.

Jaskier would think that; he had supplied the clothing after demanding that Geralt accompany him to the event. Popinjay that the bard was, Geralt supposed it probably looked acceptable, or more precisely, would look acceptable on anyone other than Geralt. Jaskier had at least dressed Geralt in relatively dark colors -- probably to ensure that his own garish things drew even more attention, but Geralt couldn’t help but be grateful for it, nonetheless.

The dirigible finished docking, and Geralt followed Jaskier toward the boarding gondola. “Whose wife did you sleep with this time?” he wondered.

Jaskier turned an offended look his way that was entirely manufactured and not the result of any actual offense. “How could you say such a thing?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Daughter?”

Jaskier pressed his hand to his chest. “On my word of honor!”

Geralt raised an eyebrow.

Jaskier grinned and nudged Geralt toward the gondola. “It was Lady Dorester’s husband, actually,” he murmured.

Geralt did not turn to stare at Jaskier, but he startled badly enough to make his bells give out a muted silvery jangle. He hadn’t realized Jaskier slept with men. Geralt had only seen the bard with women whenever they were together.

If he’d known, he might have said something. Well, no, he probably wouldn’t have. But he might have said something. He might have done something.

On board the dirigible, phlogiston lamps gave the decorated ballroom a bright glow, and some enterprising alchemist had found a way to make it snow over the dance floor.

A server offered drinks; Geralt took one without really noticing it, he was so preoccupied with the sudden shift in his world view.

“Lady Dorester’s husband?” he repeated, wanting to make sure he’d heard it correctly.

“Not so loud!” Jaskier looked slightly flustered, which he never did when recounting his shameless exploits with women. “She’s terrifying. So if she tries to talk to me, you should ask her to dance. No one would be able to turn you down, not looking like that.” He waved a hand at Geralt illustratively.

“No one?” Geralt wondered softly. Jaskier didn’t hear, having been drawn into conversation with another guest.

While Jaskier wasn’t paying attention, Geralt carefully snapped the bells off his sleeves. For Jaskier’s sake, he didn’t mind looking like a jester, but he was damned if he was going to sound like one.

And if he was going to dance tonight, it certainly wouldn’t be with Lady Dorester.

[all-or-nothing-baby]

THE PEACOCK

.

Incessant babbling, day and night. Constant fucking humming and grating outbursts of half-baked songs with bastardized lyrics. The bard is—superfluous would be an understatement. More like pretentiously poncey and purposely pig-headed just to piss me off. And a liability, to say the least. He's a goading, impudent Puck, yet shite with a sword and can't even fight with his fists to save his own featherweight arse. I mean, the moron can't weigh more than a sack of grain, for fucks sake. In fact, I'm surprised a strong gust of easterly wind hasn't blown the idiot all the way back to Oxenfurt. Oh, and to rub salt into that wound, despite his puny stature the gannet puts food away like a damn ogre, therefore munching through coin as if there's no tomorrow, no warm bath to pay for after having to wash in murky lakes for weeks, no dry room at an inn needed for a well-earned ale and a plate of pie and at least a night's decent rest.

He's incorrigible. Flashy. Unnecessary.

The bard is a Nobleman's trophy bird—a fucking Peacock of a man.

Yet.

And yet.

When we part ways and he is gone, the absence of his noise is a troublesome thorn in my side. It's like a river run dry when all you needs is a skinful of water. All the wild sounds slightly out of tune; the night owls lamenting the sound of that surely enchanted lute, the mourning Mocking Jays mimicking his voice having stolen and butchered his song. I feel unchallenged. Unmoored, even. Having only myself once again to worry over and to protect, seems somehow more of an effort—a chore, almost. All food tastes bland. My appetite in general, it wanes. Everything is wrong. Even drinking away the day at its end is so much less appealing. Bathing without soft hands smoothing warmed lavender oil through the strands of my dirty hair? A pointless waste of funds. And a soft bed for the night, all alone? These days, I strangely find it a sort of soft torture.

Yes, a Peacock preens and parades and is as vociferous as it is vexing.

But.

And but.

It's intelligent. Cunning. Majestic. It is exquisitely beautiful. And in the dead of night, when I hear its call carried on the breeze, it is somehow a tonic. The dazzling bird of such brilliant colour laments its mate: another Peafowl, this one with a plumage of pure white. And, once together again, they are the most perfect of contrasts. They are whole.

Roach brays and nods her head, shakes out her mane a little.

Ah.

It seems this witcher may have been thinking out loud again.

"Hmm," Geralt agrees sheepishly, and rides on.

.

[roughentumble]

started planning a fic where Jaskier gets hooked on a new series of erotic books featuring a stalwart knight and the nobleman he's having a scandalous romance with and Geralt's very conflicted about it bc he's the one writing dirty stories about Sir Eric and the Earl Dandelion

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BESTIE I AM SCREAMING

i love this idea soooooo much 😭 ive seen the reverse, where jaskier is writing romance novels abt them unded a pseudonym, but never with geralt as the author instead and im so. so captivated by this idea. its his creative outlet, its how he deals with his seemingly one-sided feelings, and he never wrote them with the intention of getting published he wrote them for himself but then they DID!!! having jaskier read and love his work right under his nose..... having jaskier swoon over the romance that's meant to be an outlet for the love they'll never have..... oh my god i love it

[on-a-lucky-tide]

hello imtyping through barely open eyes because my alarm JUST went off but. i would like to know about The Fairytale AU 💕💕💕💕💕 thank u :)

It's a collaboration! Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier. My Collab partner convinced me it should be an arranged marriage au.

“Huntsman?” The man asked. Eskel did not look up. He knew better than to meet the eyes of a member of the court, with the scars on his back enough to remind him should he forget, and he forced his chin down. Too much was at stake for his instincts to be mistaken as insolence.

“Yes, m’lord.”

“Ahh, well. We have a long journey ahead, and we shall be in close quarters throughout. Your name?” He paused. “You do—I mean, that is to say, you—“

“Eskel, m’lord,” Eskel replied.

“I’m… Jaskier. Viscount de Lettenhove, and the King’s appointed representative on this mission. I am responsible for—”

There was a murmur and a bark of laughter from over their shoulder. “Slept with the king’s sister and her handmaiden, I heard.”

“Haha, yeah, noose or the Wilds. I’d’ve taken the noose. Boy’s gonna get ripped to shreds.”

Jaskier clenched his teeth and stared straight ahead. Not through fear, Eskel imagined, but because he was fighting the urge to shout back and defend his honour. Such men—boys, for this child could be no more than eighteen summers—rarely feared the standard retribution of a sarcastic word, because there was always a defence standing at his elbow, shortsword at his hip. Where they were heading, Jaskier would have no such protection. Only the soldiers that stood leering at his back, and the Huntsman, unknowable and untrustworthy. The boy had a little sense then; an easy victory now would cost him a hard loss later.

Eskel examined the rings on Jaskier’s fingers thoughtfully, picking out the most expensive gems and marking the lack of calluses on the boy’s fingers, and then the expensive cut of his boots and cloak. It had been treated with dwarven oils, Eskel noted. Such a thing was hard to come by for even a nobleman, let alone one so far from home. Speaking of which. “Where’s Lettenhove? Never heard of it,” Eskel asked.

“Oh, it’s—uh, a little coastal province some leagues north. It was claimed during the Northern Wars and bestowed upon my family for loyal service to the Crown. Why—it’s a most industrious place, spices and fish, you know, I’m very surprised a man so well travelled has not happened upon it. I hope your knowledge of the Wilds is as superior as they say. Come then, let our adventure begin.” Jaskier tapped the heels of his expensive boots into the flanks of his priceless horse and rode ahead.

Eskel considered Jaskier’s back for a moment before he followed. The boy talked too much. That was a mistake most people made when they lied. They over-embellished the details, fearful that your mind might wander and fill in the blanks with unpredictable presumptions. Bad liars couldn’t adjust, because their narratives were built on foundations of sand.

As they passed through the tall, iron gates, Eskel retraced the march of his battalion down the coasts of the northern provinces. It had been many years since he had fought; every scar on his body was a mark of his survival and a memory to haunt his dreams.

He remembered the empty fishing boats bobbing in the blood-soaked harbours and the rank smell of rotting fish, the broken sloops and the burning—everything had been consumed by fire, and the overwhelming smell of death. Such scenes were seared into his subconscious; every footstep through hell an anchor in his memory. He had walked that coastline for months. And yet, not once had he stepped foot in the province of Lettenhove.

[hanzajesthanza]

one thing about the hansa is that these bitches are food👏 motivated👏!!!

their most important bonding moments take place around food (the fish soup, the many breakfasts in beauclair) and they all are each naturally predisposed to being food-oriented

geralt is chronically unemployed and constantly has dealt with having no food to eat. dandelion also frequently starves and he is also a hedonist who uses his insanely jacked memory skills to memorize all of the best restaurants and what they serve and during what seasons. milva can kill and butcher game better than anyone else on the continent. cahir is a born bred and fed nobleman whose existence was on figs and proscuitto before he travelled north. angoulême is literally a starving little orphan girl, oliver twist looking ass, transed her gender, please sir can i have some more. and regis literally defies his species’ natural fucking will every single day just because human food is that delicious.

woe unto you, who let them into your kitchen. because they will raid your fridge and leave naught but crumbs

[thedemonofcat]

If being turned into a literal white wolf wasn’t bad enough, Geralt is annoyed to learn he's being sold to be some nobleman’s pet. Although Geralt can’t help but feel that Viscount of Lettenhove sounds familiar

See, after their parting on the mountain and with the war on the rise, Jaskier had returned to Lettenhove. Where seeing he was upset about not being with The white wolf, he was gifted a domestic wolf.

Now Geralt has a wolf and needs to try and figure out how to communicate with Jaskier to tell him who he is. Things get complicated when, as wolf Geralt manages to overhear and sinister plot and learns things in Lettenhove aren't as they seem

[jaskier-cult]

war time prompt

Directly following their fight and split, Jaskier is enlisted to go off to war. As the son of a nobleman he can pull strings and get away with not going directly to the front lines. But despite his estrangement to his family, he owes it to his people in Lettenhove to serve his duty and protect his lands and people.

So, Jaskier does not shy away from going to the front lines. He becomes a leader and high ranking general, and insists on putting himself in the thick of things.

Jaskier becomes known as the Red Bard, a nickname turned moniker from his men who revere him for his skill bringing blood on the battle field and the gracefulness in which he executes it due to his previous career.

Cue Geralt's reaction.

[persephoneggsy]

second part to my sebhawke witcher au, this time ft. blackwall and vivienne, bc in my head, sebastian is pretty much the ciri of this au, just minus the magic powers. so blackwall and vivienne are his geralt and yennefer lol

long story short, Thom “the Blackwall” Rainier is a griffin school witcher who ended up with a child of destiny when he invoked the Law of Surprise (”that which you have but do not know yet”) as payment after rescuing a nobleman from a monster. Unbeknownst to him, this nobleman was royalty, and when he arrived home, he found his wife was pregnant with their third child. When the baby was born, Blackwall arrived to take him back to the witchers, though he agreed to the boy’s grandfather’s last request -- that he keep the name they gave him: Sebastian.

Meanwhile, Vivienne is a sorceress who’s worked with Blackwall on a few occasions. They mostly snipe at each other, but then Blackwall shows up with the most charming little boy, and she adores him. Vivienne’s pretty much the reason Sebastian’s still a fancy lad despite being raised by witchers (and also the reason he still wears mostly white lol).