May I Request A Prompt From The All Genres In One Post? Like Number 7 And Number 18?

May I request a prompt from the All genres in one post? Like number 7 and number 18?

7. “Can we get a dog?”

18. “How strangely nonchalant for someone who almost just died a minute ago.” 

NONNIE IM EXHILARATED THAT YOU CHOSE TO PAIR THESE TWO TOGETHER I HAD FUN.

tags: fluff !!!!, family fluff

——

“Can we get a dog?” Geralt hums from where he’s working on the sofa, Ciri looking up at him with Roach in her hands.

“Why? Is Roach not cutting it anymore?” She gasps, holding the stuffed horse protectively to her chest.

“Don’t listen to him Roach, I could never get bored of you.” Jaskier nods solemnly from the other side of the couch, hiding his smile behind his notebook with the pretense of adding the final touches to his song. In reality, he’s waiting for The Cue.

“Good advice, Geralt has no idea what he’s talking about, Roach, pay him no mind,” he says and Jaskier grins as Ciri leans into her stuffie, ear pressed against its mouth.

“Roach says you’re right, daddy Jas, she also says that daddy Ger is a meanie!” Geralt frowns before looking down at her.

“We can’t get a dog.”

Ciri sets her little fists on her hips and Jaskier watches on in great interest as their daughter parts her lips.

“Actually daddy, we can. Daddy Jas told me you needed some con— coninc—”

“Convincing,” Jaskier whispers, ignoring the way Geralt glances at him as if he’d stolen the last bit of chocolate ice cream.

“Convincing!” Ciri yells, her tone victorious. “So we’re going to convince you,” she finishes with a solid nod. And there it is, The Cue.

Jaskier quickly jogs to their room, hiding snickers as he grabs two pillows; he hears Geralt ask Ciri just how they’re going to do that— oh and is his husband in for a surprise.

“Weapons at the ready, Ciri?” She carefully sets Roach on the Tv stand before grabbing one of the pillows, Geralt looking on in mild amusement.

“Ready, Jas!” Their daughter looks utterly ridiculous, one foot forward and the another behind her, her face so focused as he takes up the same position.

“Pillows raised!! And... chaaaarrrggggeeee!” Geralt’s eyes widen as they run the short distance to him, bringing pillows down on him as he curls smaller, laughing as Ciri grunts and trash-talks— you’re going down! Down like Valdo Marx in a singing competition against Daddy Jas!

Fuck, does Jaskier love them both so much. 

“Fine,” Geralt grumbles, a properly put on frown gracing his face though he has tears from hiding his laughs. “Fine!”

“Yield!” Ciri screeches, smacking him again, and Jaskier is so proud of her.

“I yield! I yield, leave me be—” Ciri and Jaskier back away, panting and sweaty as they look on at Geralt’s form still curled up, shaking with quiet laughter.

“You’re a bad influence on her,” he grumbles, and Jaskier raises his pillow in a threat.

“How strangely nonchalant for someone who almost just died a minute ago, Geralt.” Geralt bursts out laughing, shaking and teeth bared as he closes his eyes. He’s so beautiful that it makes Jaskier’s throat dry.

“So?” Ciri asks, her pillow raised to smack her dad again, eyebrow raised in challenge. “Can we get a dog?” 

Geralt groans. “Fine, we can get a dog.” 

Jaskier’s quite sure the neighbors hear Ciri’s squeal before she hides her face in his stomach. Geralt grins and rolls his eyes in retaliation to his wink.

They spend the rest of the evening looking for names.

——

rb if you liked it so other people can read it too!! 

Send me a prompt x

Jaskier shows Lambert it’s okay to be passionate about something…

An easel sat on the shores of the lake near Kaer Morhen. Jaskier spotted it for the first time while on a romantic boat cruise with Geralt; the Witcher did all the rowing and Jaskier lounged back opposite with his lute across his lap, but that was beside the point. The easel sat at the very bottom of a steep path, with a small chest at its side, which probably contained the mystery artist’s equipment.

Jaskier made a mental note to investigate further.

When the snows cleared towards the end of the season, the beautiful, mist-wreathed views of the Blue Mountains from Geralt’s bedroom window reminded Jaskier of a painting, which in turn reminded him of his mystery artist. One afternoon, he set off on foot. When he reached the top of the path, he looked down the slope and saw someone he really didn’t expect to.

It was Lambert.

The youngest wolf of Kaer Morhen stood with a palette in one hand and brush in the other. A leather case sat unfolded on top of the chest containing more tools of his trade; scalpels, brushes and other miscellaneous items. He was currently measuring up a perspective of something in the distance.

“Lambert!” Jaskier stood downwind, so called out to let the Witcher know of his presence. He really didn’t expect Lambert to swirl ‘round, wide-eyed, and then immediately throw his tools in the lake. Not only that, but his left hand twisted into the Sign for Igni and he set his entire piece of art on fire. The bard sprinted down the path—no mean feat, he wasn’t exactly a spiritely youth anymore—and kicked the easel into the lake.

Too late. The painting was ruined. Jaskier pulled the canvas out of the wet mud, and looked at it forlornly. “Lambert, why—?”

Lambert shook. His fists clenched. “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” The Witcher looked genuinely distressed; his teeth gritted, eyes wild. Rather than engage with Jaskier any further, he snatched up his bags and stormed away. Geralt warned Jaskier of the potential for drowners, foglets and water hags in the area, so the bard didn’t tarry.

After a little bit of prodding, some moonshine and a game of Gwent, Lambert finally opened up. He was… embarrassed. Worried. He thought that if the others found out they’d take the piss and if there was one thing he couldn’t deal with—there were quite a few, but Jaskier wasn’t brave enough to point that out—then it was someone ripping into him about a private passion. It was his. No one else’s. Something he could enjoy outside the bullshit of the Path. But it was very un-Lambert. It was gentle, and peaceful, and everything the Path wasn’t, and—he just didn’t want anyone to find out, alright?

Despite giving assurances that Eskel and Geralt really wouldn’t tease him about something he was passionate about—and deep down, the prickly wolf knew this to be true—Jaskier didn’t push Lambert to reveal his secret. Instead, he decided to support his Witcher quietly. For the following solstice Jaskier bought Lambert a present. A set of watercolours. The winter after that, he bought him a new drawing pad and some charcoal. They never talked about it and Jaskier never saw the products of his gifts. It didn’t matter. He was showing Lambert that it was good and healthy to have something just for yourself.

Until the fourth winter.

Lambert approached quietly, tentatively, and placed a small square wrapped in brown paper beside Jaskier while he was basking in the fading winter sun. He left without a word. The bard set his lute aside and picked up his gift. The paper and twine fell away to reveal a beautiful watercolour; a small, full-bodied portrait of himself sat within a buttercup that took up the rest of the background. His miniature self was singing, happy and bright, with the gorgeous yellow shades reflecting the joy of a bard’s heart in full flight.

Lambert had signed it at the bottom, with a very small ‘thank you’ scrawled beneath.

The small watercolour became one of Jaskier’s most beloved possessions.

The Shape of Love Pt.1/6

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 - Rated T, check my pinned masterlist/ao3 for other parts (once they’re posted) and my other witcher fics!

The first time Jaskier had shifted he’d been just a baby. He didn’t remember it but his nurse, Lila, 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, the rumours amongst the staff was that Lady Lettenhove had had an affair but the Viscount hanged anyone who dared mention those rumours in his presence. 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.

At first they’d thought little Julian had been cursed with Lycanthropy but when Lila, had scooped up the tiny wolf cub in her arms he had shifted from a wolf cub to a small ginger kitten. It had taken days and a plethora of different animals before Julian to shifted back into a human, throwing Lettenhove Castle into pandemonium.

Jaskier had been poked and prodded by mages, healers and druids throughout his childhood but not one of them could explain his abilities. The nearest anyone had got was a sorceress from Aretuza, with long raven hair and violet eyes, eyes that still haunted Jaskier to this day. She’d suggested that his shifting magic must have been locked away in his genetic code, passed down through generations but never manifesting until he’d been born.

His parents’ obvious disdain in regards to his abilities and delight in treating him as a scientific experiment had been the driving factor in Jaskier’s escape at the age of sixteen. Lila had helped him escape the dimeritium prison that was his bedroom and he’d shifted into a hummingbird the moment his magic had regained enough strength, flying out of an open window and into the world before his parents could realise what had happened.

He’d never looked back. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to Lila but he just couldn’t risk returning to the castle. He couldn’t go back to that prison.

He felt an itch settle into his bones as he stared up at the ceiling of his room in the tavern. He rolled over with a sigh. It had been too long since he’d shifted, it was difficult to shift whilst he was on the road, especially now he actually had a handful of possessions to his name, most importantly his lute. Humans tended to freak out if they saw a wolf walking down the road carrying a lute and a satchel on his back. If he wanted to shift then he had to find a suitable hiding spot for his belongings, especially if he wanted to fly.

He stripped off his clothes and made sure his door was locked before he opened the window just wide enough for a bee to slip through. He took a deep breath before letting his magic loose. It was a strange feeling when he shifted, to him it almost felt no different to taking off a coat and sinking into a warm bath. Lila had always left the room when he’d shifted from his human form, apparently his skin almost melted away into fur or feathers or scales and there was a sickening crack of his bones adjusting but it never hurt. The magic made sure of that, but the sight was too much for the gentle-hearted nurse.

He blinked as his vision adjusted, the red tones of the brown wooden beams shifted away and he buzzed happily as he suddenly surrounded by a whole new spectrum of light. He flitted through the gap in the window and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the flowers that were in bloom in the surrounding fields. He shifted to a raven before his instincts drew him to the sweet nectar of the flowers. The world shifted again, becoming sharper and he could see further into the distance.

He cawed loudly and danced around in the sky, enjoying the feel of the wind through his feathers. Oh the ballads he could write about this feeling. There was nothing else like it. He’d tried a few times to write about the different colours and feelings he had experienced through the animal kingdom but no human could truly appreciate the genius.

He flew around the town for hours until the vibrant hues of red and purple began to dust the horizon as dusk fell. That was when he saw the witcher riding into town on a beautiful bay mare, with a head of a cockatrice hung to the saddle leaving a trail of blood on the path. The witcher had hair brighter than the light of the full moon and eyes like liquid gold. 

Keep reading

I’m kind of obsessed with the idea that Jaskier makes his own paper and makes his own books from scratch. You know the really aesthetic looking tiktoks or how to tutorials on making a book? Yeah, that’s Jaskier.

Like I can see him having a small bucket that’s long enough filled with river water and paper he’s cut up and let soak, and running a screen through and letting the pages dry over night by their camp fire.

Or him sewing the pages together and creating the spine and covers. I’m not too educated on the process, so I’m sorry if I get everything wrong or if I don’t add to much detail onto the idea, but I’d like to hear everyone else’s ideas to this.

Another is, I think Geralt would absolutely love watching Jaskier do all this. Very relaxing.

I’m kind of obsessed with the idea that Jaskier makes his own paper and makes his own books from scratch. You know the really aesthetic looking tiktoks or how to tutorials on making a book? Yeah, that’s Jaskier.

Like I can see him having a small bucket that’s long enough filled with river water and paper he’s cut up and let soak, and running a screen through and letting the pages dry over night by their camp fire.

Or him sewing the pages together and creating the spine and covers. I’m not too educated on the process, so I’m sorry if I get everything wrong or if I don’t add to much detail onto the idea, but I’d like to hear everyone else’s ideas to this.

Another is, I think Geralt would absolutely love watching Jaskier do all this. Very relaxing.

CUZ I SAW A DUDE ON THE STREET WEARING A YELLOW STRIPPED SHIRT AND THIS CAME TO MY MIND SO. MODERN!AU CLOTHE DESIGN. (I drew this rlly fast)