#geraskier confession

[tielmamon]

I HAVE RISEN

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 94

Geralt hates the way Jaskier dresses. Alright- That came out wrong- Just like it does every time he tries to bring it up to Jaskier. He's just trying to help, or bring up a reasonable concern, but every time Geralt opens his damn mouth, all it gets him is a hurt look in Jaskier's eyes, and a smile just too big to be truthful. Geralt doesn't mind the colors. He doesn't mind the lace, or the tulle, or the colors, or the corsets, or the unreasonable amount of buttons and clasps, or the colors. He just doesn't like that there's nothing to the clothing. They don't protect nor warm his bard. Thus Geralt spends all time away from Jaskier, whether for a week because Jaskier is at some bardic competition, or all winter when Jaskier is at Oxenfort and he is at Kaer Morhen, sewing. He reads book after book after book, and practices, practices, practices. Geralt will make his bard pretty colorful frilly clothing that also keeps him warm and protected.

[samstree]

(the 'jaskier likes a dilf fic' fic has a sequel, because i'm very nice ;)

following this

The blood is getting into Geralt’s eyes.

“Fuck,” he mutters, blinking it away, the wound on his forehead throbbing with every step he takes.

It must be a bad one if his healing still hasn’t kicked in. The gash runs deep and long near his hairline, bleeding sluggishly along his face. Geralt feels dizzy with the blood loss, the world spinning before his eyes. His senses are dulled—dark spots swimming in his vision, the ringing in his ears, slowed reflexes.

Head wounds are tricky bastards, he curses silently.

Geralt lets his feet drag himself forward, with much resistance from the uneven terrain and the injury, but carrying a fully grown man certainly doesn’t make it easier.

“Oh, thank you, master witcher!” Andrej says, draped over Geralt’s shoulder, head lolling upside down. Between every other word, he hisses from the pain in his broken foot. “If it weren’t for you, that beast would have eaten me whole!”

“Hmm.”

Geralt grunts, head pounding.

“I know you are a humble man, master. Jaskier told me all about it! He said you’d never admit to being a hero, but you are! Whatever shall I do to repay this debt?”

He says Jaskier’s name so casually, so intimately, without titles or honorifics.

The headache suddenly gets worse. Geralt has to suppress a groan. The barkeep’s weight is slipping from his shoulders, so he hikes him up with a jolt.

“Not humble,” he squeezes out the words in the end. “Just doing my job.”

“Still, you have no idea how much this means to me. To think I nearly died today, and my Lucja would have been left without a family. I fear no one would have taken her in this time. When that beast dragged me away, all I could think about was my daughter, master Geralt! My life is of no importance, but my sweet Lucja…”

Geralt grits his teeth as Andrej goes on and on about how he puts his daughter’s life before his, how he values nothing more in this life.

Stupid, kind-hearted Andrej, the best father in the world.

“How noble of you,” Geralt says pettily, out of nowhere. The blood loss lowers his inhibitions, making him more candid than he would like.

More reasons for Geralt to hate head wounds.

Distantly, he remembers he should not make such jabs at an innocent man who deserves no ire from him, but Andrej doesn’t seem to notice.

“I do not see raising my daughter as a noble deed, sir,” he simply goes on. “They say I saved Lucja’s life, but in truth, it was she who saved me! For you see, it is a privilege to love such a perfect daughter, who chose me as her family. I am only grateful for her arrival every single day…”

A growl falls out of Geralt’s throat on its own, the pettiness in his chest boiling hot. He barely notices the tavern appearing before his eyes as the good man rambles on.

Jaskier waits by the door, sitting on the step next to a small Lucja, who’s eyes are red and puffy. His arm is around her and patting gently, eyes brightening as he finds Geralt carrying Andrej back safely.

Geralt sets the barkeep on the ground, relieved both physically and mentally. When the beast came and carried Andrej away right in the middle of town, the heartbreak in Jaskier’s eyes…

He shakes away the memory of Jaskier panicked and pleading when the man of his dreams was in danger.

“Papa!” Lucja runs towards Andrej and jumps into his open arms. The broken foot is not the worst thing for a human, but it must still hurt when he lets her slam into him and picks her up.

Of course, the perfect father would do that.

“I am safe and sound, my sweet girl,” Andrej says between kissing Lucja. “You must thank master witcher. He saved me!”

Jaskier is hovering around the both of them, touching and checking Andrej all over. His face finally relaxes into a smile when he turns to Lucja. “As I said, Geralt is a hero! You see, your papa is back! Everything will be alright now!”

Geralt’s chest twists at the sight of the three of them, something heavy lodged in his throat. They make a lovely picture together, almost too precious for him to intrude.

With that, he turns to leave, but a dizzy spell suddenly takes over.

He stumbles, vision darkening. The ringing in his ears drowns out all the noises in the world, and there’s something warm and sticky on his chin. He touches it, and his hand comes away with fresh blood.

It’s nothing a few hours of meditation can’t fix, but he does need the rest. Now that Jaskier has the perfect man back, he’ll be busy cooing over his brave heart and broken foot, and on top of it, his undying paternal love even in the face of death.

Geralt needs to take care of himself, alone.

It’s fine, nothing he hasn’t done since before Jaskier came along.

Really, It’s fine, he tells himself again.

Geralt winces, and takes another step. His head must be more messed up than he realizes, because he only hears his name called out after a few times.

“…Geralt?” Jaskier appears out of nowhere. “Hey, darling. You are alright. I’m right here.”

Careful hands support Geralt by the arms, taking most of his weight. By instinct, he leans into Jaskier’s embrace. It’s familiar, and it’s a surprise.

Oh, Jaskier is right here.

“Why—” Geralt says, shaking away the fuzzy feeling in his head but only making it worse. The confusion of Jaskier’s presence by his side grows. “Andrej—”

“Hush, now. Here, let me.” Jaskier puts Geralt’s arm over his shoulder, guiding him up the stairs. “You saved Andrej, alright? His foot will be fine, because you carried him all the way here. Stupid witcher with your stupid heart…”

Jaskier complains more about Geralt’s heroics, but he didn’t do it to be a hero. He only didn’t want Jaskier to be sad.

“Oh. I’m not sad, dear. Don’t you worry about me.”

Hmm. Somehow, Geralt has said the last part out loud.

“Yeah, you did. Now—oof, let’s get you into bed.” Jaskier answers another one of Geralt’s train of thoughts, pushing open the door to their bedroom. “You are saying everything you think. It must be the head wound. Those are tricky bastards, I know.”

Geralt feels himself being lowered into the soft bed, the pillows against his back. Jaskier is all over him soon enough.

“Jaskier?”

“Yes?”

Those blue eyes are too close for Geralt to be thinking, he only leans into Jaskier’s touch. A soft, damp rug is pressed on his forehead, cleaning the blood away.

Geralt winces. “Why are you here?”

Jaskier’s hand stops, holding the rag and hovering. He shifts closer on the bed, his thigh pressed against Geralt’s. “Where else should I be?”

“Andrej…” Geralt closes his eyes, waiting for Jaskier to have the same realization. “You should go to him.”

Jaskier only looks more confused. His brows knit together in sympathy.

“Oh, my sweet witcher. It must be the injury messing with your head. Ugh, now I know why you hate head injuries so much. It’s making you ask these nonsensical questions.”

“Not nonsensical. You…” Geralt hesitates, not wanting to admit it to his treacherous heart. “You love him.”

The room is silent for a moment. Geralt focuses his senses on Jaskier’s breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest, grounding as always. The headache feels less intense when he can listen to Jaskier’s breathing like this.

The gash is still an open wound, and Jaskier resumes his gentle care, cleaning away the blood clots and finding the bandages from the drawer.

“He’s a nice guy. I did, perhaps.” Jaskier says. “And?”

The bandage covers the wound, wrapping behind Geralt’s head. Jaskier gently tilts him forward so he can reach all the way around.

“And…” Geralt finds himself at a loss for words. “And, you love that he’s a good father to Lucja.”

Jaskier only shrugs, tucking in the corner of the bandage near Geralt’s nape. Both of his hands cup Geralt’s chin, helping him tilt forward, nearly tucking his face in Jaskier’s shoulder. A shudder runs down Geralt’s body at the closeness.

“Lucja is a very lucky child.” Jaskier finishes his work and pulls away. “Still, you are hurt. Why should I be anywhere else?”

It comes out as naturally as breathing, like it’s a choice Jaskier has never needed to make. To stay with Geralt.

“Huh.”

“I may have a thing or two for these gentlemen who happen to be lovely parents.” Jaskier meets Geralt’s eyes, blinking. “But as kind-hearted as Andrej is, he’s not the best father I know.”

Geralt blinks. “There are better ones?”

An unnamed annoyance rises again in his chest. There are more men Jaskier is noticing, more of them for the bard to get all hot and bothered over.

Geralt is trying really hard to not pout, but he can’t help the way his mouth tugs into the shape of displeasure. The blood loss must be getting to him.

A tiny smile appears at Jaskier’s lips, proud and wicked. “Why, yes. Of course,” he says. “There’s this one man. He’s better than the rest of them combined.”

A low growl rumbles in Geralt’s chest on its own volition. Before he can hide it, Jaskier lets out a chuckle.

“Should I describe him to you, dear witcher, so you may learn about my most prestigious, and frankly, almost impossible standards?”

“No, Jask—”

Geralt really doesn’t want to hear, yet again, how Jaskier’s attention has passed right over him and landed on another man, but Jaskier simply interrupts him.

“Where shall I begin? You see, he’s the best one in my eyes, not because he’s perfect. It’s the opposite, rather. He’s just as flawed as everyone else when they become a parent for the first time, but he always tries to do better. He knows of his shortcomings, perhaps too much, too intimately.” Jaskier’s eyes soften. “He feels guilty, for falling short in the early days, even after all this time. That’s why I’m here to remind him, of how far he’s come, how much he’s done for his daughter. It’s hard to raise an orphan-princess in the middle of war, you know?”

Jaskier smiles knowingly, and Geralt lets out a surprised oh.

“I—” he splutters. “Jaskier, it’s—I don’t—”

Geralt’s stomach flutters, his cheeks heating up.

“And he’s the reason…” Jaskier pauses, caressing Geralt’s cheek gently, careful with his injuries. “Well, he’s the reason I started to notice the rest of them.”

“The rest of them?” Geralt asks, brain still trying to catch up.

“Mm-hmm.” Jaskier nods. “All the other fathers started to catch my attention. Suddenly, I was swooning left and right at the sight of an older man taking care of his children. Once I added being a good dad to my list of standards, do you know what I realized?”

Geralt is now feeling woozy again, this time not for the blood loss. “What did you realize?”

Jaskier’s hand trails from Geralt’s face, making him chase for a brief moment, longing for the gentle touch. He catches Geralt’s hands, lifting them to his lips for a chaste kiss, and then another.

“None of them can compare,” Jaskier answers, solemnly. “Not Andrej. Not any of them. I have a man in my heart already, taking up all of the space, showing up in all my dreams. When he’s here, he’s the only one I see. Flaws and all.”

Geralt is warm all over when Jaskier’s eyes are on him like this, like he’s the most important thing under the sky.

“He sounds…” It’s hard to say it, but Geralt has always been more candid when his head is all over the place. “He sounds amazing. You should tell him more.”

“Yes.” Jaskier’s smile stretches. “I forget, sometimes, how deeply those doubts lie. Hopefully, he’ll forgive me for being neglectful.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Or I should just profess my undying love, and never let his insecurities prevail again.”

Geralt’s eyes widen, his heart nearly giddy with hope. “You should.”

Jaskier’s features soften impossibly when he holds Geralt’s chin in his palm, leans in, and presses a gentle kiss on his eyebrow.

“Well, for one, he is you,” he whispers it like a secret, resting their foreheads together. “I love you, at your best and at your worst. I love all your faults and mistakes, and my love only grows when you try to do better. You are my favorite person, Geralt of Rivia. You are my heart, and my songs, and you are everything hopeful about this world. Now—” Jaskier kisses him again on the cheek, a big wet kiss that he wipes away with a thumb, pulling away. “Will you stop being an idiot?”

Warmth spreads from Geralt’s stomach, making him hum with happiness. The way he melts into Jaskier’s embrace, losing all the words, may indicate that he’s still failing at the not-being-an-idiot part.

“You love me,” Geralt mutters the most important thing, not sure how to react, so he traps Jaskier in his arms and buries his face in his chest, refusing to let go.

When Jaskier laughs, it’s carefree and indulgent, the vibration rumbling against Geralt’s cheek. His fingers have returned to Geralt’s hair, playing with it patiently.

“I love you, and I’m in love with you, my brave, concussed, impossible witcher. I might even say I have a crush on you when you are being particularly sweet like this,” Jaskier says. “And you do need some rest if we want that head wound to heal, dear.”

But Geralt is very comfortable, snuggling into Jaskier like this, and he also has a crush in return.

“I need to tell you too.” Geralt’s voice comes out muffled and sleepy, his eyes closing in contentment. “So you won’t have doubts… so you’ll know…”

The fingers in his hair are soothing, petting in a gentle rhythm that is getting slower and slower, lulling Geralt into a meditative state.

“When your head is clear, perhaps,” Jaskier answers. “I’ll still be here when you feel better. I shall confess my love again, lest you forget, and you can tell me all that you feel, all the sweet things you want to say to me. Well—on the other hand, when you feel better, I’ll also have the chance to tease you.”

“Will you?”

Jaskier’s smile sounds wicked, but Geralt cannot find it in himself to care.

“Oh, of course. Relentlessly. This is too good of an opportunity to pass, you getting the idea that I might care for Andrej more than you, simply because he is a good father. Hmm, let’s see, who should hear it first? Ah, yes. Ciri, of course…”

Jaskier’s voice blends into the background noise, chirping in excitement about the prospect of telling Ciri everything, his arms around Geralt, never for a second trying to let go.

Geralt closes his eyes, letting out a long sigh and finally letting himself rest in satisfaction.

A head wound may not be the worst thing in the world, he thinks.

He just needs to get better soon enough. There’s a love confession waiting for him, after all.

[wolvesandfoxes25]

The truth will out.

"I have a question for you, Geralt?" Jaskier asked, his face pinched up in aggravation.

"Hm?"

The bard spun around, his fingers in their signature formation, shifting into an O.

"Is there a reason why you're giving me these piteous looks?" He all but snapped out, moving a piece of brown hair behind one ear.

Geralt was taken aback... almost flushing at being called out.

He hadn't meant, per say, to do what he was being accused of...but looking back now he realized he kinda had.

"What are you on about?"

Jaskier chuckled, no humor anywhere to be found.

"I'm no fool, Geralt. I know you've spent 20+ years thinking me one, but piss off with that accusation."

Geralt sat down, eyes taking in the fluffed up form of the brunette.

"Jaskier. If I've offended you, I truly apologize." He replied as heartfelt as possible. Which, for him, was a low growl, but... semantics.

"Thank you for the apology, but it doesn't negate the fact that you've been doing it. Now, my acrimonious friend, do enlighten me."

Geralt had always known about the other mans...affinity for him. How could he not?

Jaskier wasn't exactly subtle.

"Is it because you know I wanna fuck you?"

Geralt felt like he'd been slapped.

"Honestly, I stumble upon two people a day I'd like to fuck. So, what? Why the looks?"

Silence.

"Have you seen yourself? Your arse is a thing of glory, as I've said before."

Jaskier waved that statement off like he was shooing a fly.

Gaining his... albeit lack of words, Geralt crossed his arms.

"No. Well, in a way, it is regarding that." He grumbled.

Jaskier rolled his eyes, eyes drifting down to his laced cuff.

Silence.

"I know you care for me." He whispered, knowing his friend would hear.

Jaskier froze, fingers clenching together.

A long, grinding silence filled the cabin and Geralt hated it.

Finally...

"Ah, I see. Poor, pathetic Jaskier, always running after the unattainable. In this case... you." He grit out between clenched teeth, blue eyes flashing.

Geralt glared, getting to his feet.

"I didn't think that for one second, Jask."

Jaskiers glare deepened..."Don't fucking call me that, godsdamn you. S-Stop looking at me like that!"

The Witcher grit his teeth, trying like fuck to reign his temper back to its confine.

"Did Yennefer give you this tidbit of information?" He demanded.

Geralt didn't answer.

She had... at one point mentioned it.

He hadn't replied to her, not wanting to use that topic to... gossip. It wasn't any of her business, and his silence let her know that.

"She did. I fucking knew it. The two of you enjoy a good laugh at my expense?"

Geralt glowered now.

"How little you think of me." He hissed.

Jaskier glared, blue eyes full of discomfort and embarrassment.

"How little you think of the fairy, huh? Sullies your witcher name for a person with a cock to love you? Sorry, I left my cunt back in Oxenfurt."

Turning to leave in a huff, he felt a big, heavy hand clamp onto his wrist.

"Unhand me, you brutish lout of a man!"

Geralt did, setting him firmly against the door.

The two of them stared at each other in the dim light of the shitty cabin, both of them breathing heavy in the night air.

Geralt watched his chest rise and fall beneath his coat, lips pinched together in fury.

"I never meant to judge you, Jaskier."

Silence.

"Well, the 'woe is him, poor piteous little dandelion' has been permanently plastered upon your face for days now. And I would really appreciate it if you'd stop." Jaskier choked out, looking like it was physically painful to say those words to the other male.

Silence.

"I can't help the way I feel, alright? I've tried for years to.. to.. deny what I feel. To push you out and away from my very essence, but I fucking can't!"

He spat out those words like acid in his throat and Geralt felt them like acid across his face, stunning even him into silence.

Jaskier looked like a caged animal when he moved to leave again. But Geralt gripped him again, forcing him back into place.

The brunette pushed at him furiously, but Geralt didn't relent, trapping him.

Two sets of eyes locked... and Geralt felt near possessed when his hand reached up and cupped his bards face.

Blue eyes widened at the action, his lips trembling, chest rising and falling like he'd run away from a monster.

Maybe it was Geralt he was running from mentally.

It was too late, wasn't it? To let Jaskier know?...

Jaskier pushed his hand away with trembling fingers and all but ran out of the cabin.

Geralt stood there, feeling foolish.

The end. Or... to be continued?

[geraskierfanficprompts]

me about this fic idea

When Jaskier was young and just beginning his journey as a bard, he was gifted with immortality to ensure his music would endure forever. His lifespan was magically linked to a flower: as long as the flower bloomed, Jaskier would live. To protect it, the flower was placed in an enchanted ember that prevented it from wilting. Jaskier then hid the ember to ensure its safety.

Jaskier mostly kept his immortality a secret, but he did casually mention it to Geralt once.

After having his heart broken on the mountain, Jaskier decided he was done with life. He sought out the hidden place where he had concealed the ember, planning to destroy the flower. He even found a mage willing to break the ember for him.

When Jaskier arrived at the hidden place, he panicked upon discovering the ember was missing. Only then did he notice Geralt holding it.

Geralt refused to give it back.

[tielmamon]

The way the Jaskier tells the dryads how he'll just wait for Geralt outside the forest, sits down and immediately sings the line

"My love for you will never die..."

SHUT THE FUCK UP

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 90

Jaskier accidentally ingests a love potion, and becomes obsessed with Geralt. He sings him songs, reads him poetry, hugs him and compliments him and blows him kisses. ... Okay so he's acting as he always does. But he desires more touch and affection from Geralt, and who is Geralt to deny his enchanted friend? But Geralt eventually has to leave for a hunt, and Lovepotioned up Jaskier would be in terrible danger if he came with, so Geralt commands he stay back at the inn. He comes back to an absolutely inconsolable bard who keeps asking Geralt what he did wrong, and how he can better for Geralt to love him again. Geralt awkwardly tries to talk his friend through it, before giving up on talking and just giving Jaskier a quick chaste kiss. Jaskier stops blubbering and immediately is overjoyed, enjoying Geralt snuggles the rest of the night. Jaskier sleeps in a bit the next morning, but Geralt wakes him up with a kiss to his forehead and a tender hug. For the rest of the day, Jaskier looks more surprised with every touch or sentence Geralt gives him, which is a tad odd, as the first day of the potion, Jaskier seemed only happy and relieved when Geralt gave him love. Now, Jaskier seems shocked by Geralt's audacity, though still very happy about it. Geralt finally reaches Yennefer, who Jaskier did not know they were on their way to visit. Geralt asks for Yennefer to lift the love potion's curse from Jaskier, only for her to explain it's not there. It was clearly one that wore off in a day. That mean this entire day Jaskier wasn't enchanted but he and Geralt kept acting like it. Jaskier profusely apologizes, already in tears, and confesses he just liked Geralt giving him affection, touch, and praise. Geralt pays Yennefer for her time wasted and scoops up his bard to head back to an inn so they can calm down. Geralt is embarrassed, but not angry, per se. He tells Jaskier this, and gives him a kiss on the forehead. "All you had to do was ask, Bard." "I promise it was real at first!" "I know, Jask." "But you kissed me and held me and-" "I know, Jask." "I'm sorry." "It's forgiven, bard. We don't have to stop." That night, both bard and witcher fell asleep, wrapped around each other, both's lips bruised from kissing.

[wolvesandfoxes25]

Part 3:

Jerking Geralt off slowly was near a religious experience for Jaskier, the length of him hot and heavy in his palm.

The Witcher panted lightly against his lips as his stroking picked up a little.

Suddenly, Geralt’s hand folded over his, stopping his movements altogether.

“Jaskier.” He grumbled, licking dry lips.

The bard furrowed his eyebrow, stealing another kiss quickly.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, his heart pounding.

Geralt just looked at him, moving himself out of Jaskiers space, wincing when he connected with the boulder behind him.

“Before we go further, Jask. I need you to know something.”

The brunette nodded his head, nervousness taking over the passion that had been building in his veins.

“You know I would give my like for Ciri. I almost did on that beach. Had Vilgefortz delt me anymore blows, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you right now.”

Jaskier felt the words like a slap in the face.

Choking, he looked away from the Witcher, out into the trees, trying to not let that darkness that started to consume him outside Brokilon, consume him now.

He didn’t want to hear how close to death Geralt had truly come.

“I know.” He managed to mumble, the words getting stuck like honey in his throat.

“Finding her when we leave here could come to that.” Geralt continued softly, and Jaskier wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up. He didn’t want to hear anymore.

“W-W-Why are you saying these things, Geralt?” Jaskier bit out, frustration and dread eclipsing his tone, turning it into something of a grating noise.

Silence.

“I know what you went through with Rience.”

Blanching, Jaskier moved backwards, hitting the adjacent rock, his fingers trembling beneath the stillness.

“You didn’t go into detail, and I’m not asking for it now, but I know it was for information regarding Ciri and I.”

Silence.

Unclamping his jaw, Jaskier thought he heard his teeth creak at the intensity of how he held them together.

“So what if it was? I d-didn’t-”

He had to stop, the water around him feeling too hot against his skin. Reaching out blindly, he gripped the rock to the right of his body, sucking in air he felt was no longer getting into his lungs easily.

“Jaskier.”

That deep voice that trickled through his dreams, and sometimes nightmares, called out to him through the thickness of his panic and he whimpered.

Fingers touched his upper arm and he jolted, trying to shove the feeling away from his person.

“Take steady breaths, Jask. Not too fast.”

Shaking his head, he heard the words and applied them.

It worked.

If only enough to get Jaskier back a place of coherency.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked gently, long fingers moving up to grip his chin, turning blue eyes to meet gold.

Shaking, Jaskier took a more steadying breath and nodded.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m only trying to make you see the realism in this situation.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at the other man, anger starting to wedge itself into his breastbone.

“I don’t need you to give me a rundown of the danger I find myself in, Geralt.”

The Witcher stared at him, as if he was trying to study the reactions he might pull out with his next statement.

“When we leave here, you’re a wanted man. There’s no more singing in taverns, no more making new songs to pan out to the masses. This is it.”

Jaskier just stared back at him, almost in challenge.

“What are you getting at here, Geralt? You think I don’t know any of that? That I’m the same eighteen-year-old you tried to brush off in Posada?”

Geralt scowled.

“Well, I’m not. That innocence got stripped out of me long ago. And that was for the best, a life with you isn’t easy. But I never signed up for easy, now did I? All I’ve ever wanted is to be at your side.”

The silver haired male looked back over him, his eyes burning.

“You can have that life in court, with musicians and courtesans. After all you’ve been through Jask, you deserve it.”

Jaskier felt his emotions surge up his throat, his eyes starting to water.

“Are you trying to get rid of me? Again? Am I still shoveling the shit, Geralt?”

The Witcher snarled at the insinuation, raking a hand through his messy hair as it fell across his forehead.

Tears fell down Jaskiers cheeks as he glowered at the man across from him.

How could love be so painful?

So…consuming.

“I’m trying to give you a choice!” Geralt snapped, voice high pitched, nothing like it usually was.

Jaskier wiped his eyes, taking a deep breath, a sob getting stuck in his throat.

Silence.

“I’ve loved you since I first set eyes on you, Geralt. The big, broody wanker in the corner. I love how you never back down, how you try to hide the best of yourself. I love how you care even when you shouldn’t. Everything good about you came out of all the bad things that happened to you. Such a rarity in todays fucked up world, Gods, I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

The birds in the trees were the only sound you could hear at that moment.

“It used to be a want, to be by your side. Now, it’s a need. I need to be here, with you. You’re the only one I’ve ever felt that way about. Not the Countess, not my own blood kin, not Radovid, just you.”

Silence.

“You don’t have to love me back. I’m not looking for a big, grand confession. My love for you doesn’t and won’t change anything. I know that.”

It hurt, saying that last sentence. But, it was the truth. His love wouldn’t go away because it wasn’t reciprocated. He had tried over the years to let go of it, but, Gods above, he couldn’t.

Silence.

Jaskier chanced a look over at Geralt, but the white haired mans gaze was elsewhere, far off into the trees.

“I’ll go.” He murmured, getting out of the water, pruned to all hell.

He didn’t get far before Geralt was on him, a shaking hand clutching his hair, melding their lips together.

It felt like a storm against his mouth, strong arms wrapping around his trim waist.

Geralt backed him up, the water sloshing around them, creating little waves that ran over their skin.

When his back hit a rock, he felt the lips leave his, and a trembling forehead press against his.

“I wish I was better with words.”

Jaskier huffed out a laugh, breathing in Geralt’s air, relishing in the overwhelming peace that flowed through his bloodstream at his proximity.

That’s how it had always been, when the Witcher was around.

Jaskier could feel it in his bones, in his gut.

He used to hate it. It only brought him pain. He remembered seeking refuge in alcohol after the mountain disaster, wanting to drown his sorrows in the bottle.

It never helped.

Shaking his head, he let those memories go. They didn’t matter. What mattered was the here and now.

“I’m not going anywhere, you boar. I’m here, and if that means certain death or imprisonment to get our girl back, then so be it.”

Geralt chuckled, weaving his hand back into Jaskiers hair.

“I’d die for you as well, you know.” He muttered, and Jaskier…well, he had a poet's heart. What the hell else was he supposed to do but cry?

This was supposed to be a sexy adventure into the hot spring. Jaskier wiped his eyes and leaned forward taking Geralt’s lips again.

“We came here to fuck, didn’t we? If you’re still feeling up to it?” He mumbled, moving the man’s hair out of the way to lay his lips against the pale skin of his throat.

A shuddered nod made Jaskier groan as he reached down and gripped Geralt once again.

TBC in part 4.

I had wanted this to be nothing but pure filth but decided to give Jaskier a chance to confess his feelings, because that's important. It's not just sex between them..

[kueble]

Congratulations!!! How exciting!!!

Has anyone sent in Teardrops on my Guitar? For geraskier?

(also if you were looking for smutty asks specifically then feel free to ignore this 😂😂 I realize that's a hard one to smuttify)

Thank you Comfy! I went with angst to fluff, so I hope you like that.

Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 Words.

Geraskier

---

Jaskier didn't mean to start avoiding his best friend, but once you start pulling back little by little, it just happens. Gone were the days in college where they were attached at the hip, Jaskier cheer-leading on the sidelines while Geralt played football. Hell, they even shared a dorm room junior and senior year. They had carried that momentum right into a shitty two bedroom apartment the day after graduation. They were some of the best years of Jaskier's life.

It had been so amazing that he came close to confessing his feels, almost on a daily basis. But no, Geralt met Yennefer at a work event and they struck it off like a match on fire. She is a fierce woman, a fiery ball of energy and sass, and there's no way Jaskier could compete with that. He doesn't hate her for loving Geralt, though. It's hard not to.

Trust him, he's tried.

Hell, Jaskier was best man in the wedding, playing his part with a fake smile on his face. Nothing could keep him from making sure Geralt was happy, not even giving him away. Two years later, he's stuck in a lonely studio apartment and hardly bothers to text the man he's been in love with for ages. It hurts, but he can't bear to see Geralt's secret smile directed at anyone but him. It's selfish, but he hurts so much that he cries himself to sleep some nights.

All this yearning and depression has done wonders for his musical career, though. He's in talks with an indie label and hopes to get something signed soon. The local crowds adore him, and it's not hard to plaster a smile on his face and put on a show. The audience never realizes the smile doesn't reach his eyes. It's just another part to play, one he's perfect at.

So here he is, sitting on a stool in the corner of a packed bar on New Year's Eve, singing his heart out. He tries to stick to the upbeat, positive songs, but his fans know him better than that. He finishes August, every ounce of heartbreak he has clinging to his words, and he hopes the next request is for something more cheerful.

But then someone shouts out "Teardrops!" and she looks so pleased with herself that he can't help transitioning into the first verse.

“He looks at me, I fake a smile so he won't see that I want and I'm needing everything that we should be. I'll bet she's beautiful, that girl he talks about, and she's got everything that I have to live without,” he croons out, and the bar starts swaying along with his guitar. It’s so easy to fall into the song, to let his mouth and fingers move on muscle memory. He still feels every bit as sad as the night he wrote it, but these people will never know who it’s about. His heart is safer that way.

The girl who requested the song is belting it out, and for a moment he feels like he's on top of the world. No matter what a disaster his personal life is, he gets to hop on stage and entertain people who love him for him, and they can't take that away from him. He could probably survive on just this, may have to actually.

But as he scans the crowd, he almost drops his guitar. Bright purple eyes stare back at him, and Yennefer raises her cocktail glass in greeting. He can feel his cheeks heating up, but he keeps singing. He tries to avoid her gaze, but it's like watching a car crash, he can't pull away. The start of the last verse falls past his lips, and he knows that she knows exactly who it's about. "'Cause he's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar. The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart."

He finishes the song and mumbles something about needing a break and a beer before making a beeline towards Yennefer. Once he gets there, he isn't quite sure what to say. She's standing at a high top table, all stunning and glamorous, and he is pretty sure he hasn't washed these jeans in over a week. Thankfully she hands him a glass of water before breaking the silence.

"You look truly awful," she says, and Jaskier just snorts.

"And you look like your age is finally catching up with you. What are you doing alone on New Year's Eve? Don't you and Geralt usually do that fancy big band dinner downtown?" he asks, priding himself on not tripping over his insults. He doesn't mean any of them, but the playful taunts are how they work. She shakes her head and takes a long sip of her drink.

"I'm fucking my secretary, and we're getting a divorce. It's completely amicable, but I figured I owed it to you to let you know. He's been moping around the house these past few months, you know. Completely pathetic. A grown man shouldn't pine so much," Yen says with a twinkle in her eye.

"P-pine?" he manages to choke out, and she just rolls her gorgeous eyes at him.

"Neither of you are very subtle, you know," she says, shaking her head. "Geralt and I never should have been more than friends, and I know that now. But you still have your chance, so don't waste it. He misses you, and for some stupid reason I want you both to be happy. So don't waste tonight, Jaskier."

"I'll try," he mumbles, still not sure of what is happening to him.

"He's staying home tonight. Alone. Don't fuck it up," Yennefer informs him before tossing back the rest of her drink. She leaves him there, sauntering over to the bar and wrapping an arm around a pretty woman with chestnut hair. They look good together, and Jaskier truly wishes her the best.

He'd run right out the door, but he can't skip out on a gig. He's on contract until 11:30 when the house DJ will take over for the countdown. Checking his watch, he vows to make the last hour count. He's met with drunken applause when he jumps back on stage and snags his guitar with renewed energy. A man in the crowd winks at him, and Jaskier doesn't miss a beat, just blows him a kiss before rolling right into Blank Space.

Everyone goes wild, and he plays his heart out for the rest of his set.

He normally sticks around after a gig, just soaking up the praise from the crowd and enjoying the free drinks, but tonight he packs up his equipment as quickly as possible and races to his car. Geralt's house is fifteen minutes away, and he just might get there before midnight. For some silly reason, telling him before the year ends seems important. It's possible he breaks a few speed limits getting there, but he pulls into Geralt's driveway with five minutes to spare.

He knocks on the door like a man possessed, pounding at it until Geralt swings it up and scowls at him. "What the fuck - Jaskier?" he shouts before fading into a whisper. He looks shocked, and Jaskier knows he should say something to calm him down. He sure as hell should apologize for avoiding him these past few months, but time is short and he has to put all his faith in what Yen told him. Because this has to work, it simply has to or he'll surely die.

"I've been in love with you since senior year," he blurts out, and Geralt just blinks at him, so Jaskier keeps talking. "I mean, everyone kinda knew? Except you I guess. But I've been so fucking ridiculous about it, pathetic according to what Yennefer told me tonight. I just…thought maybe you wanted to know? And now I realized that I'm rambling, but you know how I get when I'm nervous, and if you could please either tell me you love me to or tell me to fuck off, I would really appreciate it."

"Yen? That sneaky witch," Geralt says, smiling so hard his eyes crinkle up in the corners. "I love you too, Jask."

And then there's noise in the background, cheering from the TV and the neighborhood kids shooting off firecrackers, but all Jaskier can do is stare at Geralt. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, and he's sure Geralt can hear it over the sounds of the celebrations. But Geralt stares right back at him, his gaze dipping down to linger on Jaskier's mouth before coming back up again.

"Kiss me, you fool," Jaskier says softly, and then Geralt's mouth is on his. It's chaste, just a press of lips, like he's unsure about it, and Jaskier can't let that happen. He deepens the kiss, hands coming up to clutch at Geralt's arms, holding him close as he licks into his mouth. He tastes like stout and cheese nips, and it should be weird but it's fucking perfect, because it's him.

It's the best New Year's Eve he's ever had, and as Geralt yanks him over the threshold and into the house, he knows the year is only going to get better and better.

---

Tags list: @halerune @mayastormborn @dani-dandelino @jaskierswolf @littoraly-art @tothedesert @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @theamazingdevilgivesmehope @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @hayleynzlive @holymotherwolf @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @larawrmonster @gryffinqueen-blog @lovelyscot @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @allthequeenshorses13 @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @j-u-s-tmyself​ @hayleynzlive @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @flawney @viking1919 @peanitbear

If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!

[ladyannemarie5]

Geraskier Mamma Mia!AU

I started reading a wonderful fic on ao3 with the Mamma Mia theme titled "It's a Game We Play" by BambiRex (Geraskier/ Yennskier/ Radskier) and remembered I had a similar idea in my drafts with Jaskier, Geralt, Eskel and Lambert, so here it is.

-------------------

Geralt, Eskel and Lambert live and run Kaer Morhen in the mountains, a residence for retired soldiers or those who simply can't find a home. The three brothers have been in charge of the place since Vesemir retired a few years ago and with them, the place has blossomed to welcome their brothers in arms in a calm and relaxed atmosphere. 

Ciri, Geralt's adopted daughter is a lovely teenager whose love and devotion lies with her father, uncles, aunts, grandfather and of course, her favorite singer: Jaskier. 

Ever since Ciri met Jaskier when she was in elementary school, her love and obsession for the singer grew more and more each day to the discomfort of her father and uncles. 

Every year without fail, Ciri hogs the TV room to watch the entire award season wherever Jaskier goes and that year is no exception. 

For some strange reason, Eskel, Lambert and Geralt always accompany Ciri to watch the awards. Their reason, they say, is to make sure the girl doesn't see anything inappropriate on TV. The teenager doesn't complain because she loves telling people about Jaskier and the meaning of his songs. 

Jaskier wins the Grammy for Album of the Year for the third year in a row to the delight of everyone present, and his speech changes everyone's life in Kaer Morhen. 

Jaskier gives the usual thanks to his friends, collaborators and others, and then thanks that wonderful summer love affair he experienced 10 years ago that was the complete inspiration for his winning album. He wishes the best to that man and says in a worldwide live broadcast that sometimes he still thinks about him. 

Ciri, social networks and media go crazy. Geralt, Eskel and Lambert too. 

And of course, Lambert opens his mouth to say that he can't believe Buttercup still thinks about him. The mouths of those present open wide and Ciri starts a whole barrage of questions. Lambert confesses and brags that he met Jaskier one summer 10 years ago and they spent a whole wonderful week together. But it doesn't end there, Eskel jumps in to say that if anyone inspired his Lark to write a Grammy winning album it's him, because apparently Eskel also spent a wonderful summer week by the singer's side. Last but not least, Geralt speaks for the first time since they sat down and confesses that he too spent a week with his Bard 10 years ago. 

From there begins a friendly fight of who is the winning muse of the great singer Jaskier, everyone starts analyzing lyric by lyric claiming that they are inspired by one of them. Everything is a joke (let's not talk that the 3 morons remember to perfection every moment lived with Jaskier and that sometimes they stay awake until the wee hours of the morning trying to remember more), until Jaskier, the great singer, arrives to Kaer Morhen. 

Ciri, fed up with their bickering and excited to be able to reconnect any of the fools with her favorite singer, contacts Jaskier to let him know that he is more than welcome to Kaer Morhen for more inspiration. 

Of course, a series of events begins where Jaskier plays with his wolves to keep them from guessing who has been the biggest muse in his life and which songs are for whom. 

Spoiler: In my mind and heart, Geralt is the obvious winner. 

----------------------------

As always, let me know what you guys think, if you want to add anything, if you don't like it, etc.

Also if you want to take the idea and write it, go ahead. Just remember to tell me so I can read it. The songs I imagine are entirely Taylor Swift songs, but if you have suggestions and for whom, feel free to let me know.

[cherryjuicegf]

Hi! For the spotify prompt thingy, maybe Geraskier with 7? 😊

thank you for the prompt!! number 7 made no sense for a fic so i did 17 it fit way better, hope you enjoy ♡

wc 563

17. please leave a light on when you go - brittain ashford, dave malloy

The light of the candle makes the shape of their hands appear larger on the wall, closer, a shadow. Jaskier avoids looking at it.

It's almost ironic, he thinks. Only fire can pull them just a bit closer now. Geralt is holding his hand, applying salve on the almost healed skin as though to find an excuse to break the coldness and the candle fits, it really does, with the burning of his hands where Geralt touches him, the burning inside his chest, his body whole.

Ironic, because it hurts to touch Geralt now, and yet he looks so beautiful in the candlelight.

Absently, Jaskier smiles as he stares at him. Tilts his head. Yes, beautiful. Eyes soft like melting gold as they carefully focus on their task, hair falling loose on his shoulders, the lines of his face gentler than he remembered, than the light of day betrays.

Geralt catches his gaze, and raises an eyebrow in question, voice hushed. "What?"

Jsakier has lied before. Just for the sake of lying, because he knows he can't deceive Geralt, but now he sees no use. Now the ache is burning, though pleasantly warm, and he feels the words heavy on his tongue before he knows it. He shakes his head. "Nothing. I love you."

It could be a big confession, the deepest secret, the way he lays his heart out bare in Geralt's hands. But it is not.

He knew it would be not. Because Geralt stares at him for a long moment, silent, hands still in their embrace. Then, with a sigh, he smiles. Nods. "I know."

Of course he knows. It wouldn't burn so much, if he didn't.

And Jaskier knows too. Always did, from the first moment, and yet despite all, despite the heartbreak and the fire, he kept lingering on that moment, because then he was young, and quicker to hope. And that hope remained like a cool river to heal the burning inside his chest every time he lied, every time he touched. And he dared not speak, for hope was too sweet a deceit to be refuted.

Geralt swallows and lowers his eyes, continues his task. For him, after all, nothing has changed. "I love you too, Jaskier," he whispers after some seconds, and it sounds like an apology. He finishes and turns the lid on the salve, holding Jaskier's hands just a little longer. "Just not in the way you want me to."

At that, Jaskier laughs silently. With his other hand, he covers Geralt's and meets his eyes. Smiles. "I know."

And that's it.

For Geralt, nothing has changed. Only for him, the little river of hope finally dries up and dies, and suddenly his shoulders feel lighter, and he realizes that hope was far too heavy to carry for so long.

Geralt looks at him for a moment longer, eyes soft and loving, despite all. Then, he squeezes his hand, and stands up. Walks to the door.

His touch still stings.

"Do you want me to blow off the candle?"

Jaskier turns to look at him, then at the flame dancing carelessly, everlasting. A bittersweet smile curves his lips. "No. No, please leave it burning."

Geralt nods softly. Then, "Goodnight, Jaskier."

"Goodnight."

He closes the door, and the candle keeps burning, and Jaskier only stares at it, hands still warm from Geralt's grip.

And the ache remains.

[spiralsintime]

~ Intro Post ~

Hello, my name is Spirals. I'm an ao3 writer who is currently hyperfixated on Hazbin Hotel (though before that, it was The Witcher where I wrote several fics for my beloved Geraskier ship — fics are up on my ao3 if you’re interested). If you enjoy angst and the exploration of asexuality, check out my Radiostatic fics below:

[Explicit Gore] Reaching out to Hold onto Something (10.8k words) (Main tags: Manic Episode, Overstimulation, Mutual Pining)

[NSFW] Sing Your Notes, Play Your Part (6.7k words) (Main tags: Asexual Alastor, No Touch Top, Friends with Benefits)

[SFW] Left You Dancing In The Dark (3.2k words) (Main tags: Vox's Obsession with Alastor, One-sided Alastor/Vox, Crying Vox)

~~~

I'm going to be completely honest and confess that Tumblr confuses me immensely (like most social media platforms) so I'm much more active on my Twitter where I just never seem to stop yapping about some fandom or another.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 63

After The Mountain™, Jaskier is desperate to prove himself a Worthy Travel Companion™ to Geralt, so he decides to take up alchemy. Perhaps if he gets very good at brewing Geralt's potions, Geralt will find him worthy of keeping around. When Geralt takes Jaskier to Kaer Morhen, he can't help but notice that Jaskier is suddenly spending every possible second with Lambert. LAMBERT. I mean, he loves his brother, don't get him wrong! But Lambert? Geralt's words were cruel, and he was still working out the full apology he wanted to give Jaskier (He deserved better than just an "I'm sorry") but he's worried that he's already lost his chance, as Jaskier is seemingly finding himself a new witcher.

[machtaholic]

First Ten Lines Challenge

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

tagged by @cinematicnomad <3

5 Times Eddie Sabotaged Steve's Dates (+1 Time Where Eddie was the Date) (10k [ish], M) Steddie, post S4 with Eddie sabotaging Steve's dates until he becomes the date

“What do you see in all those girls anyway?” Eddie laid out on a towel near the pool in Steve’s backyard.

A Different Kind of Brave (11.5k, T) Steddie, post S4 with Eddie finding Steve at a beauty school in Indianapolis - hair is tamed and a date is made.

Steve wiped down his tools and checked his station one last time, breathing a sigh of relief.

A New Style (1k, T) Steddie, just an excuse for Eddie to molest Steve's neck after a new haircut

“All right shitheads, come help grab the pizzas! Those with hollow legs must help cart the load into the kitchen!”

I Will Sing You a Praise Chorus (6k [ish], T) Steddie, Eddie trying to figure Steve out and finds Steve has a bit of a praise kink

“Steve! You’re looking extra bitchin’ today!”

I Want Candy (1k [ish], T) Steddie, just a little fun with Eddie finding Steve washing his car

Eddie closed his eyes and tried to drown out the cacophony of sounds coming from Nancy’s station wagon.

You Are Your Own Magician (15k, M) Steddie, bit of a character study with Steve finding himself, leading to a sweet Steddie reunion

It started with the vest.

Yer a Dragon, Jaskier (7k [ish], M) Geraskier, Jaskier's a dragon but doesn't know it - and Geralt is in love with him - things work out in the end

There was nothing special about the day - it started off like every other day did in Kaer Morhen.

Let's Dance Together, You and I (12k, E) Geraskier, A fun bodyswap fic with love confessions

It started with Chaos.

Comatose (766 words, G) Tarlos, bit of hurt/comfort

“We need to get his father.”

Converge (906 words, M) Malcom Bright x Original Male Character, just a kinky ficlet in my Psych 101 'Verse

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, thankfully.

The Steddie stuff is all posted since January and the rest is from 2022 and 2021 ... I had a bit of a slump LOL

Aaaand I'm gonna tag ... @gusthemoose, @trekkiepirate, @halffizzbin, @literaryoblivion and @p1013

[roughentumble]

awwwww i found some of my old geraskier pride and prejudice AU posts!! i still yearn for a darcy!jaskier and lizzie!geralt fic, i think it could work so well. wolf witchers being once respected but now nearly penniless and they'll lose the house when vesemir dies, a big family with lambert as the youngest, geralt and eskel as lizzie and jane being best of friends, eskel was once going to be the one to marry and save the family before he got his horrible scars. but then he starts a romance with priscilla, who thinks he's handsome anyway. geralt has a dry, biting wit and is determined to be alone forever, sure that he'll never find someone and sure that he's unwilling to compromise and be in an unsatisfactory relationship. he'd rather be alone, which he's sure he will be. but then there's jaskier, who's sure that eskel is going to hurt his precious friend priscilla, but he's entraced by geralt and geralt's quiet strength, his quick mind, his clever wordplay. he convinces pris to save herself, while still trying to woo geralt, blind to the way he's shooting himself in the foot, and the hurt he's causing.

it could be somethingggg, jaskier's little sister that he's very protective of could be essi! lizzie's friend who marries for safety instead of love could be yen perhaps, and i think the characters suit the roles! it's instinct to make geralt the dark broody one, but if you ignore the trappings of who broods and who's in brighter spirits, i think their actions and familial connections suit best this way.

also i just cant ever stop picturing the confession scene with jaskier being thoughtlessly, cruelly flippant in that self-absorbed way of his, while geralt just grits his teeth and gets angrier and angrier, but even as he unleashes hell on jaskier, a little voice whispers you always knew that loving you would be a burden, why are you so angry that he's proving you right?

[wolvesandfoxes25]

Damn, the antis are just so vindicated by that one sentence, huh?

I'm feeling pretty vindicated that it was bullcrap if the puppy dog eyes towards Geralt is anything to go by. Not to mention the never-ending songs towards Geralt, the heartbreak on the mountain. The little.. how about we get away from the toxic witch together? Just you and me? I'm just trying to work out what pleases me, as he looks nervous and downtrodden.

The breakup song.

Getting tortured by Rience, even when he knew where Kaer Morhen might be located. When he knew SOME of Geralts weaknesses, and had other information that Rience could have used, but chose not to tell.

After singing Burn Witcher Burn..he looks sad...hurt. And that's why Rience took him btw, he probably figured since Geralt jilted Jaskier that the information would flow freely. Yeah, no.

Hated Yennefer. Probably has resentment, even if he doesn't realize it.

But yeah, all the pining looks and songs written from his broken heart, it's platonic. His confession in season 1, asking Geralt to RUNAWAY with him. But, yeah, take to heart one statement when Jaskiers known to lie to protect himself. 🤷‍♀️