Alternatively:

Jaskier: *Gets arrested after arriving at the city, because he slept with half the town*

Guard: Don’t worry, the king’s going to release you. He adores you. The arrest was just to calm the people down, they’re rather pissed off right now.

Jaskier: Great!

Guard: That’s the White Wolf, who you’re traveling with, right? He’s really famous around here. Heard he’s very smart, strong, and clever.

Jaskier: ...You may be right about the strong part. Maybe.

Guard: What, he isn’t-

Geralt, in the distance: WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?

Guard2: I’m sorry sir, we can’t-

Geralt: LET ME TALK TO MY- I MEAN THE BARD! I NEED TO SEE IF HE’S- I NEED TO SEE HIM!

Guard2: We can’t let you in there, you need to get arrested for tha-AGHH!

Guard3: Alright, grab him.

Geralt: *appears in front of Jaskier and the guard, handcuffed and led by two guards, one with a very bad bloody nose and visibly limping*

Geralt: Jaskier! You’re okay!

Jaskier, grinning: I knew you cared about me!

Guard: Did you just punch the guard- Did he just punch a king’s guard, just to see you?

Jaskier, brightly: Welcome to my life!

YESSSSS

do you think the wolf witchers play (competitive) hide and seek during the winter in Kaer Morhen?

YES.

Also, I am having a terrible day so please feel free to gush at me about these ideas you have because I am 100% certain they will make my day better

Hide and seek with additional booby traps. The first time Vesemir gets doused in cold water there’s an almighty uproar; after the third time he joins in, and the wolves start fearing for their lives. They play a more harmless version with Ciri, and refuse to play with Jaskier, because he just… vanishes. Nobody knows how.

Signs as booby traps!!

Everyone is used to the signs having a colour, Quen being gold, Yrden purple etc, until one day Eskel makes a transparent Quen, breaking Lambert’s nose because he was running full pelt through a doorway. Everyone got really cautious after that…

Love the idea of Jaskier vanishing!

So last night, in a fit of… something, I wrote a teeny tiny drabble thing about Yennefer and Jaskier running into each other after Geralt’s No Good Very Bad Double Breakup. As it’s pretty much free of context, here’s what I figure has happened: they’ve chatted a bit, and Jaskier’s implied (or outright said) he forgives Geralt; Yennefer thinks he’s stupid for it and wants to hurt his feelings.

/\/\/\/\/\

“You know he’ll never love you.”

The words are harsh, cruel, and Yennefer means them to be harsh and cruel. She always says what she means, and it always sounds exactly as she intends, and yet…

The reaction she’s watching closely for is not what she wished.

She wanted the bard to rise to anger in his hurt, to have some comment ready to throw back at her – witty and clever and cutting, or awkward and filled with clearly dawning regret; she’s had both kinds of retort from him, and either would do.

But what she gets instead is him controlling his expression with the utmost care; a quick shrug; a calm, light-hearted voice in reply.

“I know,” he says, like she’s just told him it’s raining outside or that the next public carriage out of Novigrad leaves in an hour - like he doesn’t remotely care.

And he does know, she thinks. It’s not a realisation for her, of course he must know, but she suddenly sees that he’s known all along and has devoted himself completely to Geralt anyway. That kind of love… She can barely contemplate it. She could never live with it.

And as for not caring… His demeanor, his voice, everything he’s using to try to project the image of a man who doesn’t care, it’s all utterly convincing. It’s those pretty, expressive blue eyes that give him away. Looking into them, she doesn’t need to reach out magically to feel his deep, aching sadness and how fundamental a part of him it has become.

Yennefer hasn’t regretted a single word she’s said, no matter how harsh, for a hundred years or more, and she simply refuses to start now. Instead, she sighs and conjures up another goblet, far too fancy for this absolute pit of a tavern they’ve found themselves in together, and holds it out in his direction.

“Do you want some wine?”

It’s the first time Jaskier’s ever smiled at her, and she can see in his eyes that, idiot of a man that he is, he’ll forgive her for every mean thing she’s ever said, just as he’s already forgiven Geralt.

List of my stupidest goddamn witcher headcanons

Joey Batey as Jaskier | fear & pain theme

Henry Cavill shares first pictures of Geralt in The Witcher season 2.

DOES HIS ARMOUR HAVE ABS??

THIS WAS THE FIRST THING I SAID AS WELL.

It's the male equivalent of a boob plate and I can't.

what if a mage decided to punish Jaskier for his promiscuity by casting the sleeping beauty spell on him, believing there will be nobody to wake Jaskier up from his sleep because there is no one that actually loves him?

like, the whole point the mage wants to make is that is to show Jaskier just how empty all those encounters actually leave him, cause when push comes to shove, not one of those people he bedded for a night can deliver the True Love’s Kiss that can save his life.

Cause, to add more drama, let’s say that in this version of the spell if he does not receive a TLK by a certain time, his sleep will become eternal and there will be no saving him, TLK or no

and let’s say Geralt spends a solid week trying to round up Jaskier’s previous bedfellows to see if there’s someone who per chance might have fallen in love with the bard during one of their trysts, even forces some of them at knife point to kiss his sleeping form, to no avail. And Geralt can see the way Jaskier’s skin turns paler and colder every day, his lively glow turning more unnatural with every hour that passes and he curses these people– because how could there not be at least one damn person in the entire continent who has fallen in love with Jaskier? Jaskier, who finds beauty and excitement in the most simple of things? Jaskier, whose singing could put any lark to shame (not that Geralt will ever admit this out loud)? Jaskier, who chooses to see the good in what most people would call horrible and monstruous?

How could no one have ever noticed how special, how precious Jaskier’s light was in this cold, dark world? Was everybody blind?

And in the last day, as Jaskier’s last sun starts setting, Geralt kneels defeatedly beside his bard’s bed and takes him in his arms, fiercely clutching him to his chest, apologizing for not finding his saviour, for failing him. He looks onto his prone form in his grasp, takes note of the eery beauty that befalls Jaskier as a consequence of the mage’s spell, making his skin impossibly fair, lips impossibly pink. Lying like that, so pliant, a relaxed expression on his face.. it almost looks as if he was only slumbering, to wake up at any moment and look at him once more with those cornflower blue eyes of his..

… and before he knows it, Geralt is pressing his lips to Jaskier’s, gently, firmly, trying to convey all his longing and despair into this union.. if only he could be enough to save him…–

They separate just as the last sunbeam is swallowed by the horizon. Geralt finds it fitting. This will be his life now, no light, no warmth. There is nothing that can console him now. He brushes a strand of hair from Jaskier’s forehead, preparing for the moment he’ll have to let him go, when the bard stirs.

A small sigh.

Cornflower blue meets burning amber once again.

Hey op can I have more please? It’s for science.

blonde boys love the tub

New Jaskier HC to be contrary:

i did indeed do so many lamberts. @2nico​ requested 10a and 3b and @akilah12902 requested uhh most of the rest of these 

i know the collar of lambert’s gambeson folds out not up but consider: lambert hiding his face in his collar is cute

Joey Batey in his promotion video for the Dear Hearts Drive charity stream to raise money for Refugee Women Connect.

Vesemir: "Who do you want to be like when you grow up?"

Ciri: "Yennefer!"

Vesemir: "Oh no"

Geralt: "Oh no"

Jaskier: "Oh no"

Yennefer: "Oh no"

Calanthe's ghost: "Oh no"

Eist's ghost: "loud cheering"

Okay, okay. I wrote the thing. Inspired by this post: Jaskier accidentally slaps Geralt while flinging his arms around during an angry rant.

“—the fucking cheek of that prick! I can’t believe he thought he could get away with it!”

Jaskier spun around on his heel, gesticulating with his arms as he spoke, his words quick and furious. Geralt watched the performance with a raised eyebrow, thankful that he’d removed the bard from the tavern and gotten him into their shared room before he could start throwing things.

“Oh, yes, it’s a very wise idea to hurl around such baseless accusations when the subject of your insults is out in the fucking wilderness saving your shitty fucking village! The nerve of these arseholes, Geralt, I swear…”

Jaskier’s voice was growing higher and louder, cracking at the edges. Geralt edged forwards.

“Jaskier,” he said, hands raised as if he was approaching a wild animal, “The man’s an idiot, but—”

Jaskier wasn’t listening, still wildly flailing his arms. “And another fucking thi—”

SMACK. His hand connected with Geralt’s cheek in a world-ending, back-handed slap. The ringing sound of skin on skin would have been impressive, under any other circumstances.

Geralt blinked, dazed. Jaskier’s hands flew to his mouth in horror.

“Oh, Geralt!” He cried, “Oh no, oh no… I’m so sorry!”

Keep reading

‘That’s not your name.’

‘Yes, it is, Geralt. You know this.’

‘No, it isn’t. Your name’s Jaskier.’

‘Well … yes. But it’s not what my parents named me. They had rather less imagination, and my mother named me Julian. After an uncle, I believe.’

‘What?’

‘This can’t be a surprise. You heard me introduce myself at the Duke’s soiree last month.’

‘Yes, but … I thought it was just one of your … nom de … nom de bisou.’

‘Nom de—Geralt, that’s very good.’

‘… Hmm.’

‘I still have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Those names! That you give women when you’re—when you’re wooing them.’

‘When I’m—When have I ever done that?’

‘Only every town we stop in.’

‘No, the fake name thing. When have I ever done that?’

‘You told that countess that you were the Viscount de Lettenhove!’

‘… Geralt. I am the Viscount de Lettenhove.’

‘No, you’re not.’

‘I promise you, I am.’

‘I’ve been to Lettenhove. It’s—It’s that chap with the nose.’

‘You’ve never been to Lettenhove! When did you go to Lettenhove?’

‘Oh. Hmm. When was the execution of Lionel the Just?’

‘Forty-three years ago.’

‘Oh. Hmm … Really?’

‘Truly.’

‘So. It’s not whatsisface, Gael, then?’

‘Uncle Gael? No.’

‘What happened to him?’

‘Drank himself to death, I believe. Rather before my time.’

‘Oh. Hmm. Explains the nose, then.’

‘Ha, probably.’

‘… It’s really Julian, though?’

‘Really Julian.’