#geralskier

[saywhatjessie]

The Many Things a Grunt Can Mean

Advent Calendar Day 19! (prompts by @raven-cincaide-words) Today’s prompts: Christmas Traditions | Arranged Marriage | Awkward Fandom: The Witcher - Pairing: Geralskier 1k[Ao3]

It was winter and Geralt was not at Kaer Morhan.

This wasn’t his first winter out of the mountain: he’d missed the pass some years when he’d been sidelined by jobs before the snow came, or he’d been feuding with his brothers and had stayed away out of stubbornness and pride.

But this year, for the first time, he’d stayed because he'd been asked. Jaskier had been hired to teach a course at Oxenfurt and had wanted Geralt at his side. So he’d asked. And Geralt had stayed.

He missed Vesemir and his brothers, to be sure, but he could always catch up with Eskel and Lambert somewhere on the road, and he knew his father trusted him to be safe. No, he didn’t regret this winter away – not when he had Jaskier’s laugh to brighten his days and his warmth in his bed and his songs in his ears. He was happy for all of the time he got to spend with Jaskier: the human only had so much of it left.

That gratitude, however, was quickly overshadowed by confusion when a human woman crashed into the tavern while his bard was playing and Jaskier abruptly cut his song short to tackle her in a hug.

“Imelda, darling, you’ve made it!”

“Of course I’ve made it, you great lump! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!”

“Oi!” Called the bar keep. “I paid you for the hour, bard, get back to playing!”

“Oh, fuck off, Bazyli, my wife is here.”

That sent everyone in the room back a step. They turned, almost as one, to look at Geralt.

Geralt who had been plodding around Oxenfurt with Jaskier for months now. Who several had seen with Jaskier fully in his lap after a late set at the pub. Who almost everyone had seen physically carrying Jaskier over his shoulder to their shared room and then pretended not to hear the protest of their creaky bed frame.

Geralt scowled at all them of them, growling in a way that told them to mind their fucking business.

They all looked away, everyone’s nerve faltering in the face of a displeased witcher.

Everyone except the woman Jaskier was still holding. She’d followed everyone’s eyes to Geralt but was now the only person who wasn’t looking away.

“Oh, fuckery! Is this him then?” She asked Jaskier, slapping him gently on the arm. “Oh, he’s shorter than I thought he’d be.”

Geralt grunted, his head jerking back in surprise. Because, what the fuck?

“Oh, I know!” Jasker agreed, gently pulling her toward the table where Geralt was sitting with his ale. “All those tales of the big bad witchers make you think they’ll be massive monsters but he’s really just a puppy, isn’t he?

Geralt growled at him, low enough that no one besides him would hear it.

And the woman, too, apparently. She laughed, sitting across from Geralt. “Oh and he even sounds like one!”

He turned his unnerving yellow eyes to stare at her directly and, to her credit, she did stare directly back.

Jaskier chuckled, stood at the head of the table, marking the moment between the two of them to make introductions.

“Imelda, as you have guessed, this is Geralt: the white wolf and my witcher.”

Geralt grunted, nodding in acknowledgement. Yes, he was Jaskier’s witcher. That was his title and rank.

Jaskier cast him a soft smile before gesturing at the woman. “Geralt, this is Imelda Cecylia Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove Bajor Pankratz, Viscountess de Lettenhove. Formally a Lady of Rakverelin before our bastard fathers arranged our marriage.”

“Yup! Now my husband traipses around with you and I’m free to do whatever I wish around the continent, using my fancy title and viscountess coffers without having to bed his skinny arse.”

Geralt grunted again, in objection that bedding Jaskier’s arse would be a burden at any fatness. But he was relieved this seemed to be a human bureaucratic affair that he had neither the patience nor interest to understand. He’d trust Jaskier to just handle it.

Jaskier laughed again, leaning over Geralt, and draping an arm around his shoulder.

“Imelda is here for our annual holiday meet up. We never wanted to be married, but we figured we could still be friends. So we have this Christmas tradition of getting raucously drunk and telling leacherous stories of our year of extra marital affairs.”

Geralt hummed, gravely. So that meant–

“Oh, yes,” Imelda said, correctly reading his hum with a wink. “I know all about your little shared history. I never would have known a witcher to like things that way but–” she held up her hands. “I totally get it. I’d take it from him, too.”

Geralt growled a bit, in reflexive possessiveness, and Jaskier just shushed him, smacking his arm, 

“Calm down, you brute, she wasn’t making a pass. Honestly, Geralt.” But Geralt knew he was pleased. “Darling, would be you be a dear and set Imelda up with some ale and stew while I finish up the hour? My honor as a bard demands I see the performance through.”

Geralt grunted in agreement and Jaskier kissed him on the head before returning to his makeshift show and picking up a new song.

He watched Jaskier get started, feeling pride for his bard, before turning back to Imelda.

Imelda smiled at him, her eyes soft but amused. “Gods, but you’re gone for him, aren’t you?”

Geralt just grunted. He didn’t need to confirm something she knew. It’s not like he was embarrassed.

She laughed, gesturing at his ale. “I can get myself sorted. Did you want a top up?”

He grunted to mean no. She’d been able to read him pretty well so far but she still seemed to be waiting for a real answer.

He raised his eyebrow at her. She wouldn’t be getting one.

She shook her head, huffing a laugh as she stood. “Man, you and Julian make quite the pair. You don’t speak and he never shuts up.”

“I speak.” Geralt said, seeming to truly surprise her for the first time. He grinned. “You just have to earn it.”

And those were the last words he spoke all evening.

[verystrangehuman]

Geralt: You’re so fucking annoying Jaskier: Then get your hand out of my back pocket. Geralt: Absolutely not

[your-villainous-neighbour]

a summary

[forestdivinity]

More Black Widow!Jaskier! Can’t you tell he’s in need of comfort, Geralt?

- See all my art early on Patreon @spencerb

[caitmayart]

Toss a coin to your extremely bisexual Witcher

And his bard

They love

Each other

Anyway these are all lil snippets from my friend Chaya’s drabbles on ao3 - check em out and love these boys as much as I do bleeeease

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22443424/chapters/53625592

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[darkverrmin]

Bets and Confessions

"I want to kiss you".

"What?" Geralt raises his eyes from the book he was reading, almost bored to death. He was sitting in his room, the room he was staying at Kaer Morhen, when Jaskier walked in with an anxious and determined look on his face.

He stares at the bard who is standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. Jaskier swallows nervously and repeats his request. "I want us to kiss".

Geralt slowly stands up from his bed. Jaskier backs away from him, raising his hands in front of him. "Okay, okay, don't be mad. If you don't want to, it's really alright. Let's just forget I said it".

Geralt closes the distance between them in a few steps. He slowly takes Jaskier by the wrists and lowers them down to the sides of his body. The look in his eyes is gentle, almost tender. Now Jaskier is staring at him, wordless.

"Where's this coming from?" The Witcher asks, voice low and sweet.

Jaskeir blinks at him, still in shock. "Geralt". He finally manages to say. "Do you... Do you want to-?" He gestures between them.

Instead of answering, Geralt takes a step closer and gently takes Jaskier's face in his hands. He leans in, eyelids flattering, his breath tickling Jaskier's face. The Witcher stares at his lips, holding Jaskier unbelievably close, but he doesn't move further. They stand like that for a few seconds, Geralt holding Jaskier's face. Getting over his shock and shaking hands, Jaskier grabs Geralt by the front of his shirt and pulls him into a light kiss.

Although it was Geralt that initiated this intimate moment by holding Jaskier close, the bard can't help but to feel anxious, as he closes the distance between them. That feeling disappears once Geralt moves a hand to encircle Jaskier's waist, and hums in pleasure into the kiss. Jaskier's head feels dizzy.

They pull away slowly, Geralt leaning his forehead against Jaskier's, his eyes still closed.

"Geralt" Jaskier breathes out, looking at his Witcher with wide eyes.

Geralt opens his eyes, stroking a thumb against the bard's cheek. "Hmm?"

"Is this real? Do you like me?"

Geralt chuckles lightly and Jaskier feels dizzy again. "Usually you ask it before kissing somebody, not after". Geralt pulls back a little to look at Jaskier, but his eyes focus on the door behind the smaller man. Geralt frowns. "What the fuck?"

Jaskier turns around and sees Lambert, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and smirking.

"Sorry to interrupt" he murmurs, pushing himself up from the doorframe and turning to walk away. "By the way, bard... I win". And so, with the smug smile never leaving his lips, he leaves.

Jaskier turns to look at Geralt, who still has a puzzled look on his face. "Won what?" He asks, meeting Jaskier's eyes.

The bard scratches his head, smiling sheepishly.

"Well..."

Geralt frowns. "What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear! It was all them!"

Geralt couldn't look more confused. "Them?"

"Um... You see, I had a bet with Eskel and Lambert". Seeing the hurt look on Geralt's face, Jaskier panics and continues speaking quickly. "Listen to me! It's not what you think. Two days ago, your brothers and I got drunk-"

"You got drunk together?" Geralt laughs, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, we get along pretty well, actually. Anyway, they started telling me how it's so obvious that you like me, as more than a friend. At first I thought they were just teasing me, but after a while-"

"Wait. Why did they bring that up?"

"Oh, cause I told them I like you".

Geralt gapes at him.

Jaskier grinned. "Okay, we get along really well. Anyway, so Lambert convinced me to tell you what I feel... More like, ask if I can kiss you... That way, if you freak out about it, I can blame it all on a stupid bet with your brothers.

"And you agreed to that?"

"Hey, Lambert's pretty convincing. He was so sure that you like me too, said that it's obvious. And that he'll be doing two morons a favor".

Geralt rolls his eyes at that. Jaskier chuckles and kisses his cheek. "I'm glad I listened to him". Geralt hums, smiling.

"So what did he win?"

Jaskier shruggs. "A bit of coin. Just a formal thing".

"Hmm. Wait, what does Eskel have to do with this?"

Jaskier chuckles again, pecking the Witcher's nose. "Oh, Eskel said, that if everything between you and I goes smoothly, you'll later go punch Lambert in the face".

"I think he'll win that one".

Jaskier giggles. "Why? Because he teased me?"

"Because I asked Lambert to keep it a secret".

Jaskier stares at him wide eyed, a radiant smile spreading on his lips. "So you've been walking around and declaring your undying love for me? Oh, Geralt! I can't be the last to know".

Geralt doesn't answer that.

Jaskier continues. "Seriously? Ciri, Yennefer?"

"They actually helped me realise what I was feeling".

"...Vesemir?"

"It's impossible to keep a secret from the old wolf".

Jaskier is still smiling at him, unbelieving. Geralt continues, his voice low and hoarse.

"Actually, come to think of it, I think I lost a couple of bets myself" Geralt murmurs, shaking his head.

Jaskier laughs and nuzzles his cheek. "I'm speachless".

"Good. We can talk later". With those words, Geralt pulls Jaskier into a deep kiss. Jaskier smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms around the Witcher's neck.

They get interrupted again by a yelping Ciri running into the room.

"Oh my gods!" She pauses, gaping at the pair and covering her mouth with her hands. "Vesemir! Lambert was right!".

Geralt groans in frustration, pulling away.

"Would it kill you to knock!?"

Jaskier can't stop laughing for a long time after Ciri leaves the room.

[hoteamomma]

This frame in particular is very important because it proves the existence of Sigmund Freud in the Witcher universe.

[raccoonshands]

roach is the main character change my mind