this is the first instalment of the 1k celebration song fics! If y’all want to add a song to the list I’ll keep it open/growing till tomorrow night (but it cant go on forever bc unfortunately i have responsibilities other than tumblr lol)
Warnings: Drinking, hella swearing, playful slaps, a little angst at the end
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Geralt sat by a bonfire with Lambert and Eskel, passing around a flask of White Gul as they all finally unwound after their working months. They were all exhausted, drained emotionally and physically, but Geralt was worse off than usual. He had almost not come home this winter, wary of leaving his bard, but here he was. He was starting to regret his decision.
Eskel smacked him on the arm, “Lookin a little glum.”
He just shrugged.
Lambert took the flask out of Eskel’s hand, “He misses his bard. When are we gonna meet him?”
Geralt shot him a glare, still not responding. Lambert held the flask out to him after taking a long pull, shaking it so the liquid sloshed as if it would be more enticing. Geralt snagged it from him and swallowed two large gulps, knowing where this conversation was going, he would need to loosen up.
“Tell us about him. If you would?” Eskel gently pried the flask from Geralt with a knowing look in his eyes, though Geralt wasn’t so sure why.
“He’s a dumbass,” Geralt began, feeling the White Gul warm his esophagus as it traveled through his body, “he’s brash and naïve and quick to righteous anger and funny and… sweet. He’s very sweet.” The three witchers were silent for a long while. Minutes passed before Lambert went to speak but Eskel shushed him, waiting for Geralt to continue.
“I need nothing when he’s around. I think he thinks I’m being stubborn or rationing too much but I just genuinely forget to eat, I love him so much.” Geralt admitted, staring at his hands. He was certainly feeling the effects of the liquor but it felt good to be so frank after a whole year of watching his tongue.
“You love him?” Lambert sounded shocked, but then again he probably was. He hadn't known Geralt before their trials and the Path had calloused his heart.
“You said he’s sweet.” Eskel prompted, handing Lambert the flask to shut him up.
“Sickeningly sweet. He does this ritual of checking my potions and readying a little suture kit before I go on a hunt. And he wont let me leave until he’s checked every last bit of armor and… uhm… fuck give me that.” Geralt petered out and reached for the flask, head snapping another mouthful before he continued, “...kisses me good luck.”
Lambert smirked and Eskel gave him a genuine smile, “You let him take care of you.”
“He makes me. You don’t argue with Jaskier.”
“Bring him home. I bet I’d win.” Lambert challenged, wiggling his eyebrows
Geralt rolled his eyes and shoved a branch farther into the fire.
“Where’d you pick him up anyway?” Lambert asked, plucking the flask from Geralt’s hands and giving it to Eskel in a silent order to catch up.
“Found me a few years after Blaviken. I- I can't say I was altogether stable... I thought he might have been a hallucination when he followed me up the mountain. Then I remembered my hallucinations usually aren't so good to me… or funny or helpless. He never even asked. Didn’t do more than mention Blaviken to fix my reputation. He doesn’t give a fuck bout the blood on my hands? He just- fuck he was soft and gentle and he didn’t see a monster. What was I supposed to do?”
Eskel nodded, wincing a little as he swallowed more of the liquor, “You always had a weakness for strays.”
That earned him a glare but Lambert cut in before Geralt could tease him back.
“But what’s the sex like?”
Eskel slapped the back of his head but Geralt just laughed, clearly much more relaxed as his blood carried the White Gul through his body, “It’s... different. I can’t really explain it. But I’ve never felt so... free. It’s soft and sweet and fulfilling in a way it’s never been before- Don’t roll your eyes at me Lambert. You fuckin asked.”
He held his hands up in surrender, “Wasn’t expecting you to get so soft. I’m entitled to-”
Eskel clamped a hand over his mouth, grimacing when Lambert licked his palm but keeping him muzzled, “What are you going to do about it?”
Geralt frowned, “About what?”
“He’s human.”
Lambert stopped struggling and looked between his brothers with an apprehensive gleam in his eye. Geralt clenched his jaw and reached for the flask, draining the last bit before tossing it to the ground at Eskel’s feet.
The larger witcher just nodded, “You forgot about it didn’t you?” he got only a terse nod in response, “Would you do it? If you could? Would you try to keep him alive with you?”
“I’d move heaven and hell to keep him with me, if he wanted. They’re just words aren’t they? Holy or unholy…” They were once again silent for a long time, even Lambert seemed to respect the weight of Geralt’s fear. Not only of losing his love, but of trying to live on for decades if not centuries without him. Humans were lucky, usually they didn’t outlive each other by too long, but witchers who found love and lost it were broken.
Geralt broke the silence as he stood, firm determination in his eyes, “I’ll find a way to keep him.”
I’m sorry we got sad with that last one, have a soft, slightly goofy songfic to make up for it? this is another Hozi Boi, i love that swamp fae bastard and this song FUCKS i highly recommend.
Jaskier laid on his back, head resting on a rolled up shirt in a field of tall grass and honeysuckle and various wildflowers. The sun was high and there was a gentle breeze, keeping him cool enough that when Geralt laid his head on his chest and draped an arm over his waist he was perfectly comfortable. Jaskier hummed whatever tune popped in his head one after the other, eyes closed as he ran his fingers through his lover’s hair, basking in the warmth of the sunlight and Geralt’s affection.
“Julek?”
Jaskier smiled, the gentle sound of Geralt’s voice rolling through him, making the nickname so much sweeter, “Yes, love?”
“When did you know? That you loved me?” He didn’t lift his head, most likely didn’t even open his eyes as he asked, a soft purr filling the silence as Jaskier thought.
The bard twirled a piece of Geralt’s hair as he spoke, “I think part of me knew when I first saw you,” there was a contented hum from his witcher before he continued, “But I realized it not too long after.”
The purring stopped and Geralt propped his chin on Jaskier’s breastbone, “Do you still? After all I’ve been stripped of?”
Jaskier frowned, “It doesn’t matter to me what you’ve lost or gained or forgotten. The best of you is mine and given freely. Nothing that happens to us can ever taint that.”
Geralt’s sheepish smile didn’t look convincing, so Jaskier continued, his voice low and his enunciation slow to make sure every word carried it’s full weight, “I would do anything you’d let me to keep you safe and whole. Curse anyone who hurts you with my dying breath if I have to. Burn the continent to the ground to keep you warm... Of course I still love you. I always will. I may not be a witcher or warrior, but I will do everything in my power to make sure nothing hurts you in my arms. You are safe, and loved, and irreplaceable.”
Geralt laid his head back down, the deep rumbling from his chest spreading warmth through Jaskier’s whole body for a moment before he spoke, “I love you too,” he sighed, “Even when you ramble.”
Jaskier laughed softly as he laced the fingers of his free hand through Geralt’s laying on his hip, “You goad me into it.”
“Sometimes it’s nice.” Geralt admitted, the edge of teasing lost in the summer breeze as they settled back into content silence, save for a deep, thundering purr.
