#necromancer jaskier

[aegir-emblem]

Jaskier: Geralt, it’s time I told you the truth. I’m a... a necromancer.

Geralt: *hesitates, then hugs him gently* It’s alright. I forgive you for not telling me. Your apprehension was valid.

Jaskier: I would think you’d have noticed, with all the effort I put into raising your spirits.

Geralt:

Jaskier:

Geralt: ... You are unforgiven.

[innocentbi-stander]

also... if you're taking asks... what do you think of neocremancer!Jaskier? I've built this entire au thing in my head about neocremancy and maybe if Jaskier was killed or something after the Fall of Cintra and was resurrected as a neocremancer... my imagination likes to go crazy... But what do you think? Before or after the Dragon Hunt? Crazy powerful or rather weak? Badass or pacifist? What would you want to do with this?

oh I have MANY thoughts about necromancer!jaskier, it’s one of my very favorite non-human jaskier things!

I think that some people are born with the capacity to become a necromancer, but have no idea until something traumatic happens to them that triggers it (like being killed)

post the mountain (dragon hunt) jaskier is on the road traveling to the next tavern to drown his sorrows about the love of his life wanting nothing to do with him in when he’s attacked by bandits

jaskier has always had a little too much fight in him, and he’s had a bad last few weeks and the last thing he needs is someone stealing his hard earned coin

so he fights back and gets stabbed for his troubles

he’s left bleeding on the side of the road, thrown into a ditch with his precious lute and his pack full of pretty clothes (his coin purse goes with the bandits)

jaskier bleeds out in the dirt, staring up at the blue sky and wondering who will find his body, if they’ll bother to bury him or leave him to rot

the last thing he wonders before his eyes close is whether or not geralt will care when he discovers his bard has died. will he mourn him? then everything is black

everything is dark when jaskier opens his eyes again, but then he sees the twinkle of stars in the night sky and is confused

is he dead? but if he is dead would he still be lying in this ditch in a pool of his own dried blood?

jaskier sits up and finds no hole where the bandits had stabbed him through his chest. his lute is miraculously untouched, and his pack lies beside him. it’s night now, but he can see through the darkness unlike he had ever been able to see before

I think it would take jaskier a pretty decently long time to realize he’s been reborn as a necromancer, as smart as he is he’s also excellent at denial and explains away all of the weird abilities he’s gained as coincidence 

(although how summoning skeletons can be a coincidence i’ve no idea)

he runs into triss who expresses her confusion, she didn’t know he was a necromancer!

and jaskier is.....confusion

triss very helpfully explains the nuances of necromancy and how necromancers are created, and offers to assist him in learning how to use some of his powers

jaskier is surprisingly powerful for a necromancer, one of the most gifted triss has ever seen, which confuses jaskier even more because he doesn’t feel very powerful

he’s a natural at his powers, maybe a bit too much of a natural at the way he has a habit of accidentally summoning the undead

jaskier is by nature not usually a very violent person, so he prefers to use his abilities for good rather than mass evil

but jaskier has also always had a temper (geralt knows this especially by the amount of bar fights he’s had to drag the bard out of) so when someone hurts someone or something he loves, all of his pacifist beliefs are off the table and jaskier is ready to throw hands

he’ll do anything for the people he loves, even if they don’t love him back

which is why when he hears about the fall of cintra, and of the witcher, witch, and princess on the run from nilfgaard he knows what he has to do

geralt may not be interested in being friends with jaskier, much less lovers, and yennefer has never been fond of him, but jaskier has spent many a night singing the princess to sleep and he couldn’t stand to see the people he loves be hurt

so he sets off, determined to help them even if they don’t want him

wow, that went a little longer than expected. I hope you enjoyed! Worthy of a continuation?

[abluescarfonwaston]

He opens his eyes and Dandelion is there in his stupid colorful clothing. Covered in dirt. Pulls him into his neck and holds him as he cries. "I thought I'd lost you. I thought I'd lost you."

This is the first time he thinks as he coughs dirt from his nose and lungs. Although. Maybe not. Dandelion smacks his back hard trying to help.

Maybe. Maybe this has been going on for years. How many mortal wounds had he woken up from?

But this is the first time he's woken with his own graves dirt in his lungs.

"Don't do that to me again." Dandelion begs.

When his lungs are finally clear and he can almost breathe he holds him. Let's the warmth of him sink into his chest that was as cold as his grave not an hour before. And he does not promise, because he suspects, it would be a lie.

This is the first time, he thinks, as he stares up at the mountain peak high above he's fallen from. The first time Dandelion's done it from a distance.

The wyvern screams above.

He stands. His back no longer broken. Thinks of the bard waiting for him at the inn with a tankard of ale.

And he goes back for round two.

This. Is not the first time he thinks as Ciri startles from her pale shaking wailing. And holds him.

And then Yennefer stirs next to him. Her silent chest suddenly beating. And it is a first. The first time Dandelion's brought someone other than him back.

And then they both hold her.

"You were dead! I thought I'd lost you! I don't know how I did that!"

"You didn't." He reassures. "We're right here."

And they both hold her.

"Geralt!" Zoltan jumps like he's seen a spector. "They said you died in the progrom!"

"I did."

He smacks him. "Dandelion! You'll never guess who just showed up!"

Dandelion pops his head around the corner. The feather in his cap falling into his face. "Geralt!" He greets. Excited but not surprised. "Told you he wasn't dead! You owe me fifty crown!"

"I'll deduct it from your debt!" Zoltan laughs back.

He crosses the room to Dandelion. Pulls him into his arms. "Thank you." He says as he crushes him to his chest.

"For what? Thinking you were alive? Most people would call that denial!" He laughs.

"For bringing Yennefer back too."

Dandelion's arms finally wrap around his back. "Course. She's the love of your life." He whispers into his shoulder. "And I wouldn't do that to Ciri."

"What's it cost?" He asks at long last. Because magic always has a cost. And whatever it had been, he hadn't brought Essi back.

"It's always worth the cost when you come back." He deflected, pulling away. "Come. I believe you owe me an ale."

He caught his arm. "But what's it cost?"

He shook his head. "What do I always say?"

"Anything for a friend."

"Promise it's true."

"I don't want it to be true!" The other patrons turned to glare at him. He lowered his voice. "I don't want you trading your life for mine. Or something worse."

Dandelion turned back or him with a roll of his eyes. "As I said in Dol Blathanna, if they're going to kill you they best kill me too." He reached out for his cheek but settled for his bicep instead. "Like I'd let you go on an adventure so grand without me."

"Id rather you outlive me."

"And I you." He ordered them drinks with a wave at the bar. "So I suppose we shall have to compromise and go together. As we're both far to stubborn for anything else."

He was silent as they waited for their drinks. Dandelion catching him up on the state of things.

"Where are you headed?" He asked when their drinks arrived at last.

He smiled. "Nowhere." He drank heavily. "That is to say. I could go where you're going."

He smiled back. "I'd like that." And with that Zoltan pulled him away for a game of gwent.

[jaskiersvalley]

Freeze! You’re under arrest for being so lovely. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!!! 💕💕

You are so wonderful, thank you for this! I will be sure to pass the message on to others (though I do these via anon) to keep the happy going. As a little thanks, have some incompetent necromancer Jaskier.

Everyone knew Jaskier was a necromancer. Just as much as how everyone knew he was an absolutely useless one. He couldn’t raise a dead worm if he tried. The most he could do was make flowers bloom as they were dying in vases. It was great for being a bard, patrons always seemed to smile more and were more generous when surrounded by vibrant, pretty things.

The problem, they whispered was that Jaskier was too soft. Necromancy needed a sacrifice, life had to be sapped from somewhere in order to be funneled into another being. Flowers were easy to resurrect, nobody in the tavern would miss a couple of minutes from their life in exchange for a few pretty flowers, that much Jaskier could justify. But to take indiscriminately in order to shape the world to his liking was something beyond Jaskier’s moral code. Still, he stole a little from here and there to be able to keep up with Geralt and to make sure Roach didn’t feel the strain of old age.

All this lead to the common knowledge that while Jaskier was a natural born necromancer, he was a really shit one. Those who learned necromancy were better at it than him which was unheard of with other natural borns. It didn’t bother Jaskier, he was perfectly content to do as he had done for so long. There was no need to impress anyone or be anything beyond what he wanted to be. Such a philosophy in life suited him just fine and Jaskier learned quickly to do what pleased him. Sadly, there were always idiots who wanted to take that small scrap of happiness from him.

This time, it was Nilfgaard. He and Geralt had left Ciri with Yennefer who portalled the two of them to safety, leaving Geralt and Jaskier to act as a decoy. They couldn’t outrun the group hunting them down but they could give the other two a head start in their escape. After three days, the soldier closed the distance between them to the point that running was futile. All Jaskier and Geralt could do was find a place to stand their ground. A field, as far removed from any settlement was as good as any. The fact Geralt didn’t want the fight to destroy crops or the livelihoods of anyone was oddly touching.

They had anticipated a small company of men. Instead, they got a whole regiment. Surrounded, Jaskier could see Geralt steeling himself. They weren’t going to surrender. As one, their opponents descended on them.

Aard kept clusters of men from getting too close at once while ignii held some at bay. Each turn and twist, Geralt protected Jaskier, tried to keep him safe. Bards weren’t meant for fighting and Jaskier wished so badly that he could rouse the dead to come to their assistance. As it was, he got a few slashes and stabs in the the dagger he carried but it wasn’t enough. Nilfgaard knew they couldn’t win against a witcher with skill alone so they had come at him in vast numbers.

The fight was dragging on, Geralt was tiring, even as he downed a potion of Rook, it wasn’t enough. Sporting a few slashes from where he hadn’t been quick enough, as the potion wore off, he slipped up. The blade sank between his armour, where chest met shoulder. The pained gasp was one Jaskier never wanted to hear again. Once that hit was in, others soon followed, slashes against Geralt’s throat, stabs in any weak point of his armour. He went down without any of his usual grace and Jaskier was left trying to defend himself, unable to do anything while Geralt slowly bled out by his feet.

It was obvious Geralt had been the main target, the soldiers tried to get a few more blows in on his failing body than go after Jaskier. A bard was nothing to truly worry about, they knew that. With a weak aard, Geralt blasted some of the soldiers away, gave Jaskier a moment to crouch down and cradle his head.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Jaskier cried. “Not like this you bastard. Not like this!”

Weakly, Geralt reached up and covered Jaskier’s hand on his cheek with his own. He didn’t have any energy left for anything more, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. The last thing Geralt remembered was Jaskier’s eyes, brimming with tears and mouth moving frantically, begging him to stay. On the periphery of his hearing, Geralt thought he heard a scream.

As Geralt’s eyes glazed over, Jaskier screamed. It was anguish, rage and desperation all rolled into one. The ground around them shrivelled, grass dying, the rot spreading from the epicenter that was Geralt. Soldiers tried to run, to flee from the rapidly expanding wave of death. They were caught in it, skin sagging, eyes sinking in as they aged beyond their years, sucked dry of life before their bodies ever hit the ground. All through it, Jaskier screamed, eyes red as blood vessels burst, palms on Geralt’s face glowing. Once all the soldiers were nothing more than desiccated corpses in a field of dead flowers, he stopped. Head tipping forwards, Jaskier closed his eyes and willed with his whole being, redirecting the life force he had sapped.

Listing to the side, he passed out, face ashen with exertion. That was how Geralt found him as he sat up, feeling more energised and alive than he had in decades.  Next to him Jaskier was breathing so that was going to have to be good enough. Looking around at the destruction around them, Geralt swallowed thickly. Indirectly, he had been the cause of that. And maybe the cause of the unleashing of a necromancer who was more powerful than anyone had wanted to believe.

[g-a-y-b-a-c-o-n]

Jaskier: G’day! I’m Jaskier the necromancer, and today we’re doing an unboxing!

Jaskier: *shoves shovel into grave*

@spielzeugkaiser ‘s necromancer Jaskier AU is living in my mind rent free—

[inkformyblood]

WIP Wednesday with a necromancer!Jaskier

None of that mattered now.

Jaskier choked on his own blood, throat torn and tattered yet he continued his own cursed song. His heart seemed to stop and stutter in his chest, constricted by the incessant press of his ribs — broken into fragments by his fall — but Jaskier continued to sing.

The threads seemed to loop around his neck as he struggled to force them to follow his desperate commands — slipping and coiling through Jaskier’s trembling fingers. The world around him reeked of death, cold and cloying, earth churned to mud beneath the slow press of a thousand dead men’s boots.

“Please.” Jaskier pulled and stretched the word, forcing it through a mouthful of cloying blood, and he threw the threads towards Geralt.

The Witcher had fallen with a snarl on his face, golden eyes burning bright, and a sword rammed through his chest.

[calling-the-angels]

halp i have an idea for a necromancer!Jaskier and witcher!Geralt fic that is based off a quote i once read/heard? and i can’t find it, i need to credit

the quote goes like “I would kill for you, but then again I like killing.” And then opposite that is “I would die for you, but then again I like dying.”

[innocentbi-stander]

About necromancer Jaskier - what other necromancers use their powers for: evil minions, power, endless tortures and follow up revivals for more torture. What the Bard uses it for: forever fresh looking flower crowns, skeleton maids for mundane tasks like swiping the floor or packing the camp, reviving butterflies and other tiny animals he accidentaly crushed, reviving a dead tree and making it sprout new leaves so he has a nice shade to sit in and play his lute.

This has been sitting in my inbox for a little bit, apologies for the late response, I’ve been super busy this past week!

One of the reasons Geralt is so confused by jaskier being a necromancer is because he’s met other necromancers before, and they’re a bunch of angsty dark edge lords who more often than not are drunk on power

and then he meets jaskier- jaskier who couldn’t care less about his ability to storm kingdoms with undead armies, influence others to his will, or torture

geralt is baffled by how jaskier has somehow managed to turn his necromancing abilities into something good and pure

he possesses this often terrifying and dark power and instead uses it to make the flowers he weaves into roach’s mane last for weeks without wilting

geralt watches with wonder as the bard kneels down in forests next to the tiny bodies of fallen baby birds and breathes life into them once more and returns them to their mother’s nests

the one time he stepped on a butterfly and didn’t even hesitate to send it flying through the flowers once more

when they came across a stretch of land burned by raiders and jaskier plucked a cheery melody from his lute and the trees regrew before their eyes, providing a shady spot to camp for the day

he summons the undead from the earth like every other necromancer but its usually by accident- an indicator of exactly how powerful he is when just a simple wish for a task to be done sends skeletons scrambling from the soil to come to his assistance

this is perhaps the thing geralt is more surprised by, he’s seen other necromancers treat the undead they summon like dirt, like disposable servants meant to use and toss away as they please

jaskier treats the skeletons like old friends, he weaves them flower crowns of daisies, he rubs away the dirt smeared on their bones, he speaks to them kindly and thanks them graciously when they pack up camp, or whatever task jaskier has accidentally brought them forth to complete. he sends them back to rest with a kiss on their temple 

jaskier is nothing like any other person geralt has ever met, and he thanks the gods he doesn’t even believe in that the bard is his

_____________

Hope you enjoyed! I love getting prompts, feel free to send me more!