Our favorite lovable Bard is a little more than he let's Geralt know. Follow them through the years as he learns to let down his walls and show Geralt how beautiful he really is.
Chapter Two
Jaskier had never felt like this before. Following after a Witcher had been the best decision of his life. It had been five years and every day he felt he learned something new about Geralt. The compassion he showed to Filavandrel's elves was only the beginning. Since then, Jaskier had witnessed Geralt taking 'contracts' on a pair of godlings, a succubus, and a handful of trolls. Every time, without fail, he convinced the 'monster' to leave the area without harming them. The godlings had just been causing mischief, the succubus was very careful with her meals, and the trolls just needed to move further into the mountains away from people. Geralt had even helped them find a suitable cave to move into.
He was, without a doubt, the most compassionate person Jaskier had ever met.
Which is why Jaskier was here, agonizing over the small bracelet in his hands. A small silver scale sat in the middle, a little smaller than the size of his palm, with thin silver wire holding it in place in an elaborate design. It was open on the back, to be able to be cuff onto Geralt's wrist, and a small bright blue gem set directly in the middle of the scale.
It was beautiful. It was powerful; Jaskier could feel it even now, a small spot of his attention drawn directly onto the bracelet. And his Mother will absolutely murder him when she finds out he's done this. Doubly so when she finds out he's given this to a Witcher, of all creatures. But he couldn't help it, honestly, and she should know better by now how impulsive he is. For once, he's actually taking things slow!!! She should be proud of him!
...He might not even give it to Geralt. Not yet, at least. Maybe he should wait another year or two...
Maybe he could stand the uncertainty of not knowing if Geralt was okay for another year... Of having to hunt him down over the vastness that is the Continent. Yeah. Of course.
Which is why, the moment Jaskier spotted Geralt walking up the road into Ard Carraigh, he knew that it could not wait. He was in the middle of a set with a decent enough crowd that meant he could not stop playing and fling himself into his Witcher's arms. More's the shame because he actually looked clean at this moment. Finally, about half an hour later, he finished his set.
"I'll be at the Hen Evall tonight and tomorrow, if you wish to hear more of my amazing tales!" He called out to the crowd, getting a hearty cheer back from the small crowd.
With a smile and a flourishing bow, he picked up his hat and lute case from the ground and approached the Witcher, who was hiding off to the side of a building, petting Roach gently as he kept his sharp golden gaze roaming on alert.
"I do hope you haven't gotten a room yet." Jaskier said as he fell into step beside Geralt, leading him deeper into the city towards the inn.
"Hm..." Geralt just hummed and let Jaskier lead them to the inn. Jaskier, of course, nervous beyond measure, chattered away the entire time about nothing and everything that came to his mind.
Jaskier escorted his Witcher up to his rented room after he settled Roachie in at the stables, and immediately set about straightening up his belongings. It was his worst habit, tossing clothing anywhere and everywhere when he settled into a place for more than a day or two.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Jaskier exclaimed, schooling his voice into something casual instead of nervous. He dug into his satchel and pulled out the bracelet, sending a small prayer up to whatever goddesses that look out for bards and Witchers, turning around with a charming smile fixed into place as Geralt gave him a questioning look. "I found this at Oxenfurt for you."
"What is it?" Geralt asked, taking the cuff from him with no hesitation. A chill went up his spine as Geralt gently examined it. It looked delicate in his hands, even more so than it did in Jaskier's, and he suddenly worried that Geralt wouldn't like it.
"The woman who sold it to me said it was a good luck charm, to keep people from stealing from you." Jaskier explained with a wave, downplaying it. If there was anything Jaskier was great at, it was redirecting. "After that mess with the bandits last year, I thought you needed some better luck."
"It reeks of magic." He just grunted back. Jaskier raised his eyebrows in feigned shock. Of course it smelled like magic, he did not say; it smelled like Jaskier's magic. It had taken a lot of effort to imbue it with all the necessary properties.
"Really?" Jaskier asked instead, playing along.
"Probably a scale from a wyvern or a slyzard. Nothing worth claiming it would be good luck." Geralt grumbled out, his inspection of the cuff apparently complete. Jaskier bit his lip, hard, to keep from screeching at the man. How dare he compare that scale to something so commonplace as a wyvern? His eyes darted to the cuff where Geralt was now trying to hand it back, and that... hurt. He blinked a few times, trying to blink back the tears that were now threatening to fall.
Of course Geralt couldn't be blamed for not wanting it. He didn't even understand what he was rejecting, which was solely Jaskier's fault, he fully realized. But it still hurt.
He heard Geralt sigh loudly before a bare wrist was shoved forward, breaking his staring contest with the floor. Jaskier glanced up hopefully, and saw a small smile tugging at the edges of Geralt's lip.
"Really?" He asked, just to be sure. Geralt nodded and Jaskier smiled, his genuine one, not the performative one. He stepped a little closer to Geralt, and with a smooth motion he slipped the cuff onto Geralt's left wrist.
He felt the magic take hold, wrapping itself around Geralt's being, tying him to Jaskier. It was warm and comforting, and Jaskier felt relief at last. He would always be able to find Geralt, now, and know with certainty that he was okay. The cuff transformed as the magic settled, and Geralt just inspected it again, eyes a little wide but no signs yet of rejecting it. The cuff was now a simple silver band, resting completely comfortably against his wrist.
"Is it supposed to do that?" Jaskier asked, curious if Geralt now recognized what it was.
"Hm..." Geralt just hummed, and played with the band a little before letting it settle. As long as the stubborn man kept it on, Jaskier would always be able to find him, eventually. It would lead him, like a homing beacon. It would also give him some protection against magic, boosting his already high resistance to mind control and the like, and ward against theft. It really was because they had nearly been robbed blind by bandits the year before, or at least that's what inspired Jaskier to create this unique gift.
"I guess it was worth the coin you spent on it, at least." Jaskier couldn't help but beam at his ridiculous Witcher.
Prompt idea: Perhaps a litte hurt/comfort with our favorite shapeshift!Jaskier? 🥔
Ok so this is more comfort than hurt. The hurt occurs more in this story. This ficlet is very much part of my shifter!Jask verse. You don’t need to have read it but it helps?
Geraskier, established relationship, 808 words. Also on AO3.
Warnings: Minor angst referenced? Past abuse/torture mentioned, but this fic is mostly the comfort after this.
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Geralt thanked the young maid with a nod as he took the tray of food, positioning himself so she couldn’t see round the door into the room. After Jaskier’s abduction at the hand of his mother, the shifter and the witcher had travelled to Oxenfurt. Jaskier had been severely underweight, sick, and in no state to travel as they normally would along the path. In the brief moments he took on his human form he’d mumbled something about having rooms at the University should he ever need them. Apparently he’d graduated with top marks, and the University had been bitterly disappointed when he’d turned down their offer of a teaching position in favour for life on the road. Oxenfurt had been closer than Kaer Morhen so Geralt had led them to the city. Jaskier spent a lot of the time as a dormouse, nestled in the front of Geralt’s armour, occasionally he would fly alongside Roach as a hummingbird, flitting around Geralt’s head until he got tired.
Oxenfurt was filled with music and summer festivities, no matter the time of day. Geralt had no problem imagining a younger Jaskier studying in the city, it matched his colourful bard perfectly. Geralt was less at home in the hustle and bustle of the city but he was where he needed to be, by Jaskier’s side.
“Does Mr Pankratz require anything else, perhaps some company?” The maid asked, a pretty blush painting her cheeks.
Geralt gritted his teeth, his grip on the door tightening. It hadn’t been the first time staff from the university had offered to spend the night with the famed alumni, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Geralt wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not that no one believed that the bard was taken, least of all by a big scary witcher. He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond before shutting the door. He turned back to to face Jaskier. The shifter was curled up on Geralt’s pillow, his long fluffy tail wrapped around his body, and he was purring in his sleep. He’d slept a lot since they’d arrived in Oxenfurt. In fact most of Jaskier days were spent sleeping, eating, and cuddling Geralt. Geralt had been worried about hurting Jaskier at first but they’d both needed the intimacy of having each other close. The encounter at Lettenhove had shaken them both more than they’d realised. Geralt put the tray down on the bed and scratched Jaskier behind the ears.
“Hey?”
One piercing blue eye opened and Jaskier flicked his tail.
“I have food?”
Jaskier closed his eyes and stretched out on the pillow, claws scratching at the air as he yawned wide enough to show all his teeth. He jumped into Geralt’s lap and nuzzled at his chest.
Geralt chuckled, running his hands through Jaskier’s fur. “Guess you’re happy in that form tonight.”
Jaskier nodded and meowed, head butting against Geralt’s palm. After weeks of not being able to shift between forms, stuck as a human, Jaskier seemed more than happy to remain in one of his many animal forms most of the time. Geralt didn’t mind, it reminded him of when they’d first met, before the bard had revealed his human form. He didn’t mind the quiet, and he knew Jaskier would return to him when he was ready, and his stints as a human were getting more frequent as the days passed. Geralt scooped Jaskier up into his arms and buried his face in the ginger fur. He smiled at the weight in his arms. When Jaskier had first been rescued there hadn’t been much of him left, but now after a couple of weeks of gluttony and self-love, Geralt could only describe the bundle of fur in his arms as fat.
It was a fucking relief after everything they’d been through. He had no doubt that Jaskier would lose some of the weight when they were back on the path, but the shifter seemed at peace for now, happily indulgencing in the safety of his Oxenfurt rooms, with his lover by his side.
Geralt kissed Jaskier’s forehead and then placed him back on the bed so he could take what he wanted from the food tray. Once the cat was done he butted against Geralt’s side and yowled until Geralt laid down on the bed. Jaskier nimbly jumped onto his chest, the heavy weight pressing down as Jaskier clawed at his shirt. It didn’t take long for Jaskier to settle back to sleep, purring contentedly as Geralt’s fingers stroked through the soft ginger fur. Even after a year of knowing Jaskier, Geralt still wasn’t used to the sound of a cat’s purr. It was a sound rarely heard by witchers, but it soon lulled Geralt to sleep, keeping away the nightmares of the path.
The first time Jaskier had shifted he’d been just a baby. He didn’t remember it but his nurse had regaled him with the story many times. It was one of his favourites. Viscount and Lady Lettenhove had never discovered where little baby Julian’s magic had come from. All his parents knew was that one morning they’d went to visit their darling little baby and found a small russet wolf pup with startling cornflower blue eyes where there should have been a human child.
Or a shifter!Jaskier Geraskier AU
The Shape of Love- Or a shifter!Jaskier Geraskier AU featuring idiots in love and emotionally constipated/touch-starved Geralt. (Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6) - Art by @dama-art
Jaskier’s A-Z of Animals - The witchers play gues the animal featuring Jaskier! - [x]
Hopalong- In which Jaskier is a rabbit - [x]
The Howling of Wolves - After wintering with the witchers at Kaer Morhen, Geralt and Jaskier are back on the road. Only it appears someone has taken notice of Geralt's strange string of companions. Jaskier finds himself in trouble and it's up to the wolf pack to save him before it's too late. - (Part 1, 2, 3)
Hold Me in Your Arms - Post Howling of Wolves - Fluffy Comfort ficlet. [x]
Trash Panda - Jaskier runs around Oxenfurt as a raccoon, that... the plot? [x]
Return to Kaer Morhen - A snippet from Jaskier’s second year at Kaer Morhen. [x]
The White Wolf - Geralt gets cursed into a wolf... it’s been done but not by me! (Part 1, 2, 3)
What Form Love Takes - Geralt and Jaskier return to KM... again? [x] Art by @dama-art
Your Soul Calls to Me - 18+ During their third Winter together, Jaskier and Geralt learn more about Jaskier’s race - [x]
Agent of Chaos - Jaskier watches Geralt and Eskel train - [x]
You Can Trust Me - hurt/comfort, Geralt struggles to adjust to the soul bond [x]
The Hunt - Geralt and Jask go hunting [x]
Bastard - Fluff, Geralt and Jaskier find a river during some hot weather. [x]
A Blue Day - Hurt/Comfort as Jaskier battles a spell of depression [x]
The Tailor - An epilogue (don’t worry there’s a longer fic planned before this fic) - [x]
The pirate au is hereby bequeathed to you, Wolfie, to do with as you please. I trust you with these boys and this ship. <3 - Bouncey
Darling @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher 💖 It is always an honour to see you in my inbox, especially with such a wonderful prompt! I really hope I did it justice, you know it’s one of my favourite AUs.
Bouncey’s Pirate!Geralt x Half-Siren!Jask AU - This is about 650 words
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood, injury, also very mildly spicy right near the end.
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“Geralt!” Jaskier screamed, his voice taking on an ethereal tone, his siren blood shining through.
The crew of the ship they were trying to commandeer fell to their knees, hands covering their ears. The crew of the Kaer Morhen were better prepared, they’d seen the danger coming and plugged their own ears before the half-siren’s scream could affect them. Eskel met Starkey’s concerned gaze as Geralt crumpled to the deck, blood already staining his shirt. Lambert shoved the wax into his ears and began to tear through the remaining crew, the sickening sound of steal cutting through flesh filled the air, and it wasn’t long before the rest of Geralt’s crew joined the massacre. Jaskier’s attention was solely on his husband. He ran across the deck, his own sword clattering to the ground, tears streaming down his cheek.
Geralt swore as his pulled his hand away from his side, blood shimmering on his finger tips. “Jaskier,” the pirate captain coughed, “My wife.”
The siren sank to his knees next to his husband, cradling Geralt’s body in his arms. “Geralt, my love, my darling, my husband,” he cooed, gently pulling at the bloody stained fabric. Geralt hissed, wincing in pain, and Jaskier felt a surge of murderous fury at the men who had hurt his Captain. His nails dug into his palms, a stream of the Language falling from his lips. If it were up to him they would all die horribly slow deaths, but unfortunately the crew of the Kaer Morhen had already done the job efficiently and cleanly.
Jaskier hummed softly as he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s brow, then lifted the pirate captain into his arms. Geralt had survived worse wounds in his time as the fearsome White Wolf, but he would most certainly have a new scar to add to his collection. Jaskier’s only regret was that he hadn’t been fast enough to save his darling Captain the pain.
“Eskel!” He barked at Geralt’s first mate. “Finish up here, I’ll see to the Captain!”
Eskel nodded “Aye!”
“I can walk, wife,” the pirate grumbled from his arms but the siren just shushed him.
“Let me dote on you, my love.”
Geralt groaned but said no more, allowing Jaskier to carry him back to their cabin on the Kaer Morhen without any further fuss. He gently laid his husband on their bed, his lips brushing Geralt’s cheek, then he went to get the supplies to tend to the stab wound. He sang softly to his love as he cleaned out the wound, trying to help numb the pain. Geralt hissed and gritted his teeth but he let his siren work. Jaskier paused once the wound was clean to place a kiss to Geralt’s palm. “You’re doing so well, love.”
“Thank you, wife,” Geralt said, his voice strained as he ran a thumb along Jaskier’s cheek.
The white-haired pirate sat up, face contorting into a grimace that he tried to hide from his siren, but Jaskier was watching his husband too closely. He sang sweetly into the Captain’s ear as he tightly wrapped the bandaged around Geralt’s torso, his fingers caressing the scars that covered the pirate’s pale skin. Geralt closed his eyes under Jaskier’s ministrations. Jaskier, satisfied that his husband was out of danger, kissed along Geralt’s jaw, shuffling on the bed so he could straddle Geralt’s waist, gently pushing the Captain back down onto the bed, careful not to put any pressure on the stab wound.
“Jaskier,” Geralt groaned, his hands settling on Jaskier’s thighs.
“I was so worried about you, darling,” Jaskier murmured, his lips brushing his husband’s neck. “When you fell, and the blood…”
The pirates fingers stroked up Jaskier’s thighs, cupping his ass. “I love you, my sweet siren.”
“I love you too, my darling Captain,” the siren sang breathlessly before his lips were captured in a blistering kiss by his husband.
