#young Vesemir

[mangaka-devotee]

The cycle repeats

[thewolvesandtheirbard]

I’ve watched this TikTok so many times over (OP is hilarious 😂 Go check her out!) and thought that it reminded me of small gremlin Lambert with Geralt and/or Eskel and Papa Ves. However, now that I think about it harder, this isn’t Lamb. It’s Luka. Small unhinged, poor impulse control Luka vs Big Brother Vesemir who is tired of his shit and of Barmin yelling at him for all of it XD

[spielzeugkaiser]

Bear Jask's first Christmas as a witcher?

[MASTERPOST] - There is no Christmas in the witcher universe but Jaskier basically tries to stay up so santa will take him home :')

Also Bearwitcher Quartermaster! He was also kind to Ciri (way later).

[jay-arts-t]

Training Eskel and Geralt was a fun time for all of the instructors at Kaer Morhen!

I was scrolling through Pinterest for some poses and came across some funny images that reminded me of the wolves!

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

young witchers

Vesemir: And that concludes today's lesson. Any questions?

Eskel: When are we gonna eat?

Vesemir: Questions about learning.

Lambert: Why are we learning this?

Vesemir: Questions about howlers!

Geralt: How much do we get payed for one?

Vesemir: I might quit.

[northernolddragon]

It's time to go home for the winter.

[henrycavillary]

Vesemir 

[0dde11eth]

Papa vesemir: "Eskel what are you doing?"

Eskel: "Being disrespectful sir."

Papa vesemir: "Why?"

Eskel: "Because I'm disillusioned with the ideals of the path and filled with youthful rebellion."

[farieshades]

What do you think about Geralt and the wolves realtionships?

Forewarning I suppose, that in this case I do ship literally everyone together (with and without Jaskier’s involvement) but for the sake of feigned ‘reasearch’ I suppose I shall try to keep fanfiction out of it for the most part, and in this I’m sticking with Eskel, Lambert, and Vesemir no matter that Ciri could theoretically be considered a Wolf and Gweld does exist in my knowledge, as does Aubry (more so in AWAU than actual reference outside of being killed during the Tournament). Not entirely avoiding fics I suppose, but, you know… 

Geralt and Eskel

Eskel and Geralts relationship starts when they are kids. They grew up like brothers, possibly closer, but many writers take this into them never being far apart from each other. We know Eskel feared for Geralts life when the other's hair turned white, and well, that's sensible considering most times half+ the cohort would be dead. Out of the other two, Eskel is the one that Geralt is probably closest to. His second hand. I’ve not read much in the terms of the progression of their relationship, though I know Eskel mourned him when Geralt vanished and was thought dead. 

Geralt and Lambert

Lambert is that little brother you have that's constantly getting into trouble with the police, probably has fought off a coyote at somepoint, and half the time his stories sound true but you may never know. Lambert's personality is that of an angry cat, all biting and hissing, but when calm, they may just curl against you at the end of the day. Generally, my belief here is that he's protective of what little family he has and to conceal his emotions, he becomes a prick. True, there are great disimilarities, with Lambert, more-or-less hating his fate of being a Witcher while his family has gotten over it (or in Geralts case managed to become famous and beloved somehow). Though Lambert made no secret of his hatred for Kaer Morhen, when the time came to stand in its defense, he did so without a second thought (Journal Entry). He's the bastard of the family who hates everyone but will fight to the death to protect them, and for that, there is some respect. 

Geralt and Vesemir

There is a lot going on with the Vesemir stuff in my head. Vesemir became a father figure to Geralt, but treated all young witchers with harsh affection, a (bad) attempt at both teaching them of the harsh outside world that would await them, and to defend them from 'going soft'. After everything with the genocide happening, Vesemir becomes more fatherly to the remaining Witchers, more... I wouldn't say Kind, but that's the word my brain wants. If we want to believe NotW is factual to the story, which in itself is debatable, he becomes this father figure by force rather than want. Nevertheless, Geralt is respectful of him, probably due to him being one of very few Witchers that Geralt would be looking up to through his life. My very definite, non-professional opinion is that he’s probably a toxic father to have, but also compared to the other Witchers that may have survived the fall of Kaer Morhen, possibly the best one to have survived to train the remaining members of the school.

[kiradotexe]

just ranted to my partner for like 30 minutes about the flaws of netflix w*tcher (both animated movie and series)

i made the mistake of watching both last night and needed to yell about it

[fangirleaconmigo]

Geralt x Jaskier Geraskier First kiss, friends to lovers

Geraskier Dancing

When Geralt of Rivia was a child, he begged Vesemir to teach him the kind of dances they performed at court. The answer was always no, but he kept trying.

After the trials, when Vesemir seemed so affected by his eyes, Geralt would widen them and look up at his tutor, pleading.

After all, Geralt thought, what if he rescued a fair maiden, and she demanded that he accompany her to a party? Perhaps she would drag him, giggling and flushed, onto the dance floor. He would be her noble savior, and she would be his grateful maiden.

He didn’t tell Vesemir his reasoning of course. He said that it might be important for royal courts, with kings in them. Wouldn’t it be best if he could fit in? Fencing was similar to dance, so surely Vesemir could handle teaching it.

Vesemir sighed and gave him the same speech he always gave.

"Geralt. You are not training to be a knight. Put that out of your mind. You are a professional. A working man.

Further, you are a mutant now. You will not be greeted with gratitude. You will be lucky to be greeted with the cash that you are promised."

Geralt felt stubborn. Furious. But he knew when to drop the subject.

Vesemir would pat his shoulder and offer him a sweet bread. His eyes always held regret.

Geralt understood him now. After years of hard lessons, he understood. When he thought back on his youth, he felt like a dolt.

The women he saved were traumatized. He was meeting them during the most terrified, violent moments of their lives. They screamed, bled, and threw up. And they all ran. With his bloody sword and ashen skin, he looked little different from the monsters he fought.

At least to them.

And yet?

He still learned how to dance, despite having given up the dream.

It started with Jaskier of course, like most misadventures and novel undertakings. The young bard had just shown up in his life one day and sort of just...never left.

His enthusiasm, energy, and optimism infected Geralt's life, as did the handsome twinkle in his eyes.

One night, after several glasses of wine they shared their most ridiculous childhood dreams. Jaskier admitted that he wanted to publicly rub his success in his family's face, to make their rejection sting less. So Geralt admitted that he'd always stupidly wanted to woo a grateful damsel on a dance floor.

He thought they were just talking nonsense, so he was startled when suddenly, Jaskier was on his feet, woozy and holding out a hand.

"C'mon. Lesgo." Jaskier jerked his curly, disheveled head towards an empty spot on the tavern large enough maybe for one large man.

Geralt refused at first. It was silly. Besides, They were both men. Who would lead?

But Jaskier simply grabbed his hand. When they touched, Geralt found that all of his resistance dissipated like a magic spell. He found himself standing and allowing himself to be dragged. And after they moved a few tables, he found himself touching the small of Jaskier's back and swaying with him.

Why didn't it feel odd? It should have felt odd.

It probably felt fine because they were alone.

They always danced alone.

They would be in a bar that was emptying out, the last drunkards stumbling home. Jaskier would be inviting, leaning against him, words slightly slurring.

Geralt selfishly loved him like that, not because Jaskier would lose his inhibitions, but because Geralt would. Plausible deniability.

"No one is here, Geralt. You won't ruin your fearsome rep--rep--pox on it. People won't see you." Jaskier waved dismissively as he dragged him.

The bard's lips grew pinker when he drank, and his cheeks flushed when they danced.

So Geralt let himself be led into the middle of empty bars, dance halls, and sometimes even just under the stars near a campfire.

"Y'need this for" *hiccup* "d'plomacy." Jaskier tugged him this way and that.

Despite the slurring, Jaskier always moved gracefully, like a swan. He'd sing to himself, lost in the music, touching Geralt with surety, guiding him. His body would be warm and little puffs of his wine soaked breath would drift towards Geralt. The witcher would inhale and try to control the surge of something primal in him awakening from a terribly long slumber.

Jaskier always led.

"I thought you were teaching me to dance with ladies," Geralt complained playfully one night. Jaskier was leading him in a lazy circle under some street lanterns on an abandoned street. Trash and litter was everywhere, left over from the spring festival. Their feet crunched on discarded candy wrappers as they moved.

"I am," Jaskier huffed indignantly, eyes hazy. "You must charm these noble ladies. It's not easy, you know. You must practice."

Geralt bit the side of his mouth trying not to smile. He didn't want to ruin the moment. He was so close to Jaskier, the closest he ever got to stand. "But I'm not learning to lead."

"Oh, s'fine. You'll just," Jaskier gestured, twirling his hand in a circle, "turn it all round." Then it was a rolling motion. "Flip it. Change it backwards. You know what I mean. They'll love it."

It was quiet for a moment, Geralt turned his head and crept closer, so he could secretly smile to himself.

"You already complain they simper around me," he murmured near his friend's ear. "You want to make it worse?"

Jaskier snorted loudly. "They're just trying to get to me, Geralt, you know that. Price of fame!!"

Then he spun Geralt, and all the while, Geralt grumbled, purposely moving stubbornly. "I don't twirl, Jaskier."

Jaskier was wobbly and dismissive. "Y'doing great."

Geralt really did learn during those nights. But they never spoke of it in the morning. Those nights were sacred and untouchable lest they shattered in the light of day.

But one day, they finally, truly paid off.

Geralt wanted to run and tell Vesemir. He'd been right. He had needed to learn the skill after all.

Because one spring day he rescued a beautiful young woman, and she was grateful. She was lovely, truly. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back, caressing her delicate waist.

She had been menaced by a werewolf and run screaming into Geralt's arms, invitation to a ball at the ready. It was just like in his youthful dreams.

The werewolf wasn't such a bad guy to be honest. His name was Gil. And he wasn't so much menacing her as he was trying to say hello and simultaneously coughing. But it was an unpleasant sound to be sure. It was a hacking cough.

Geralt had intervened, having been sent there on an errand by Jaskier. The witcher took Gil aside to speak to him. The werewolf was moving on, anyway. He'd just come to see a picnic of beautiful women that Jaskier had told him about, thinking he would say hello.

Geralt wanted to shake Jaskier. Gently of course. To tell his friend that yes, he had needed help with dancing, but certainly did not need help with finding ladies to rescue. They were lying about everywhere there were monsters. Jaskier wasn't around though, he was nervously flitting around at fittings and lute tunings, preparing anxiously for the dance.

It was silly of course.

And to be honest, the young woman hadn't needed much rescuing. Gil's nose was still sore where she had hit him with her bag.

But nonetheless, when she'd seen Geralt she'd sighed and pretended to be quite helpless.

Geralt carried her to safety on Roach, and she had invited him to a dance that night. They were in Lettenhove, and the dance would be packed with nobles. It was the perfect setup.

Geralt got ready with trembling fingers. He laced on his best armor and slicked down his hair. His stomach was weak just to think of it.

When Geralt arrived, the maiden was there in a stunning gown. She arrived breathlessly, ready for her dance. She batted her eyes and curtseyed.

Geralt bowed slightly, and led her onto the dance floor. After a few moments, her raptured attention began to cool. She was well educated and polite, but Geralt caught her regretful glances towards the handsome young nobles in the corner.

He didn't blame her. He was not a small man, and he was stepping on her toes.

The bloom was very quickly off the rose for the young maiden.

"I'm sorry. My mistake." Geralt muttered at every wrong turn.

If you had asked Geralt as a child, whether the disappointment of a maiden would sting, he would have imagined so.

But it didn't. This was not what he had come for. This was not why his stomach had done somersaults as he had laced on his armor. It was because this party was not just packed with nobles, but very particular nobles from a very specific family.

Geralt glanced up to find him.

Jaskier stood off to the side, close by, clutching a glass of wine, and staring daggers at his cousin across the room. His cousin was a handsome man, if you went in for that kind of thing, though not as handsome as Jaskier. But he was holding court with several ladies.

Geralt excused himself with the relieved young lady who tried to look as though she were not fleeing.

Geralt came up behind Jaskier, and touched his back.

Jaskier did not jump or startle. He must have known Geralt's touch and scent by now. He simply turned and smiled.

"You're here!" Jaskier looked behind him. "And Juliet?"

Geralt shrugged. "I never actually learned to lead."

Jaskier's face fell. "I'm sorry, I-" he looked mortified, "-I don't actually know how to teach dance. I only know how to dance. I was just-"

Geralt cut him off by pulling him into his arms with an 'oof'.

Jaskier startled, leaning eagerly into the embrace. But then he remembered himself and looked around cautiously.

"I don't care if they see," Geralt whispered. "I want them to. Let the miserable bastards gossip until their throats are sore."

The widest, brightest grin he had ever seen blossomed on his handsome bard's face. "Well then." Jaskier straightened his shoulders and cleared a catch in his throat. Let me do this properly."

The bard gently detangled himself from Geralt's arms. Then he bowed at the waist and held out a hand. "Geralt of Rivia? May I have this dance?"

Geralt nodded and straightened his jacket. "You may, Viscount Julian of Lettenhove."

Jaskier held his hand with both of his, but he shook his head and whispered. "No. Viscount Julian is theirs. I am Jaskier. I am yours."

Geralt's heart melted. He did not know how to cope with that, so he just nodded.

The music fell silent, and a new song began.

The witcher and the bard were the first couple out on the floor. It may have started as a way to help Jaskier rub his success in his family's eyes. But almost instantly they forgot all about that. They lost themselves in the movement, the laughter, they only saw each other.

But Jaskier's family saw. His mother. His father. His envious cousins. They all saw that he was loved. That he was talented, famous, and loved.

Geralt didn't think a whole lot about Vesemir that night.

He simply danced. And when the last note on the last song died out, he touched Jaskier's chin. His love's eyes lit up with hope. Geralt didn't want to draw out the suspense, so he pulled him in for a kiss. It was tender and they were sweaty, their hearts beating in their chests.

It felt right. And not because they were alone. It was because they loved each other.

When Geralt visited Vesemir during the winter, he brought up his childhood dream. He would tell the old witcher that he understood now.

Love wasn't something you earned through daring acts. It wasn't something you extracted from terrified women as the price for their safety.

Love was a bard who tried his damndest to fulfill your dreams at the expense of his own.

Love was taking him in your arms and fulfilling his.

Well, Geralt tried to say all that. Perhaps it didn't come out the way he meant. Perhaps he stumbled over his words and grunted some.

But when he pulled Jaskier into the room to introduce him to Vesemir, the old witcher understood.

[jay-arts-t]

Do y'all think the witchers would have huskies? I wanna say they'd be more likely to have Malamutes or even Norwegian Elkhounds or a mixture of all three. But I cannot get the image of Lambert riling up the huskies into a howling frenzy. Little shit 16 year old Lambert directly after Kaer Morhen falls and Vesemir is like "yeah sure let's get dogs to make sure the boys don't become emotionally detached from themselves too much", carousing the little pack of 2 huskies and a malamute into screaming their heads off in the middle of the woods. Geralt is laying with his head in Eskel's lap glaring at Lambert because 1) yes it's funny but 2) he's trying to sleep for once dammit. Eskel is thinking "man we should get Great Pyrenees like my family used to have" (he does for the safety of the goats and chickens they eventually get). Vesemir is regretting all of his choices as his headache gets worse. But if it makes Lambert happy the three of them are willing to suffer.

[notsofriendlyfriendlyreminder]

Young Ciri: Ohmygod Vesemir is so boriiinngg Geralt: He is teaching you important things, when you get older you will realise how wise he is- Lambert walking in: Ohmyfuckingod Vesemir is so boriiing

[bestiarum]

no but the concept of eskel is actually god tier galaxy brain. like the first time we hear of him it's when geralt remembers how they were both young stupid boys and got a beating from vesemir when he caught them teasing a captured bumblebee. and when we actually meet him, it's from ciri's point of view and she's SO terrified of kaer morhen cause it's this dark unfamiliar place and she's just a little girl who's already been through too much, and then there's this guy whom she doesn't know and who sounds angry and evil and wrong (the polish word for that was "zły" which can mean all those things and more) and whose face is so fucked up that at first she thinks that he's not human. and then BOOM he smiles at her and cracks an unfunny joke and welcomes her to kaer morhen, welcomes her HOME and turns out to be the kindest gentlest most well adjusted Just Some Guy in the keep. iconic

[ladyannemarie5]

Jaskier is more than happy to care for his witchers when they return to Kaer Morhen in winter, not that it's a sacrifice to be surrounded 24/7 by manly, strong, beautiful men, but he knows that his wolves can't be pampered by him the rest of the year because he spends every season with Geralt. 

So he comes up with an idea to make everyone see his witchers exactly as he sees them: heroic and delicious. 

A few years ago, Oxenfurt put out a series of portraits of the most handsome professors to motivate more people to go to college. Of course, the number of students inside the classrooms grew a lot. 

Jaskier wants to go further, so he tells Yennefer about making portraits of the wolves according to a different year theme. You know, a kind of calendar. 

Eskel, sweet and strong, will be Spring. Lambert, young and virile, will be Summer. Vesemir, wise and serene, will be Autumn. And Geralt, mysterious and silent, Winter. 

Jaskier can only be carried away by his fantasies. 

Thanks to Yen and his magic, by the end of Winter, in every place of the continent there is a series of magical paintings of the witchers of the wolf school exquisitely depicting a whole season that motivates all people to be kinder and more helpful to them. 

Some time later, wives and husbands convince their partners to call a witcher to solve their monster problems and give them generous tips, taverns fill them with beers for attracting so many people, inns give them the best rooms and as many bathrooms as they ask for, brothels fight to have one of them in their places and show off their charms. 

Jaskier has just invented themed calendars and is happy to know that his wolves are fully appreciated. 

The next calendar will undoubtedly feature Coën and Aiden.

[0dde11eth]

Papa vesemir: "bard if you're going to be out here watching training then you are participating. Go grab a sword"

Jaskier: "no thank you. I don't like sweating. The urine of the skin"

Papa vesemir: *the deep sigh of an exhausted parent*