#Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde about to ignore all of that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaskierswolf · 3 years

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Hello there Wolfie 💜 Can we get some post-mountain angry Jaskier? Geralt knows he’s messed up big time bc Jaskier is using his full name. We love Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde 🤣👌🏼

(And maybe they kiss and make up? 🥺)

Hiya Dani! Yes you absolutely can! Did I write this about a week ago and forget to post? Maybe... Geraskier, 1252 words.

CW: Much swearing

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Jaskier sipped from his wine goblet, not looking up when the tavern went eerily silent and the doors flew open. He was well acquainted with this particular kind of silence. He’d followed Geralt around for more than half his life now. This silence was the kind that only occurred when a witcher walked into the room, and only two days after the blasted dragon hunt… he knew exactly which witcher it was.

His heart ached in his chest and he downed the last of his wine, poking his food around his plate with his fork. He couldn’t deal with Geralt right now, and if Geralt had meant his cruel words then he wouldn’t have to. Geralt didn’t want him, not even as a friend. What a fucking waste of his life? He couldn’t have found a kinder witcher to fall in love with, could he? Even Valdo Marx hadn’t been this cruel, and their falling out had been legendary. Oxenfurt students and faculty still spoke of it to this day.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s low growl sent the usual shiver down his spine but he stoically ignored it, preferring instead to stab at his food.

“Guess you didn’t get your blessing,” he mumbled.

“Guess not.”

Jaskier hoped it would be the end of the conversation so he could lick his wounds in peace, but Geralt of fucking Rivia had other plans. The witcher slid onto the bench next to him and a fresh goblet of wine was pushed across the table. Jaskier looked up, flicking the fringe from his eyes so Geralt could see the full extent of his glare.

“Still here, witcher?”

Geralt hummed. At least he had the decency to look guilty, like a puppy that had been thrown from the house. “I’m…” he paused with a grimace and Jaskier scoffed. Of course he would struggle to apologise. He had no problem whatsoever in tearing Jaskier’s heart to shreds but one teensy apology had him stumbling over his words.

“You’re what?” Jaskier snapped “Sorry?” Another scoff. “What for, perhaps the punch in the gut when I’d done nothing wrong? Or maybe, witcher, you’re sorry for never admitting that we’re friends? Better yet, you’re sorry for almost tearing out my vocal coords with your ill-worded wish, oh and whilst we’re on the subject, Geralt Roger Eric Du-Haute!”

Geralt winced, looking smaller than Jaskier could ever remember seeing him.

“Fucking djinn wishes, fucking sorceresses,” tears were streaming down Jaskier’s cheeks now, but strangely enough it wasn’t the heartbreak causing them.

He was fucking livid. Years and years of pent up anger, making excuses and following the witcher around like a lost puppy, all coming to a head. He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears, instead he poked Geralt hard in the chest. “You have the audacity to blame your troubles on me when every single one traces. back. to. you!”

“Jaskier…”

Jaskier was breathing heavily by the end of his rant. “I didn’t make you call the Law of Surprise, witcher,” he added more quietly, his anger subsiding as sobs threatened to take over.

Gods he was a fucking mess.

“I just thought.. if you could see me perform in court, at a Royal Court, you’d finally see me as more than a nuisance. I thought you would be proud of me,” his eyes darted across the room, flickering between the patrons and he told himself small stories about each one in his head.

The man in the corner with the jagged twisted scars down one arm, he’d rescued his lover from a burning building. They’d been childhood sweethearts and been married the following spring.

The barmaid, juggling an impossible amount of tankards and goblets on a tray. She had wanted to runaway and join the circus but her father had caught her in the middle of the night.

The pretty red-head with a long plait down their back and freckles dusting their cheeks. They had dreamed of swimming with mermaids…

... of the coast.

Fuck.

Jaskier’s heart clenched, and he had to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from sobbing. His throat ached and his tears were now dripping onto the table like a fucking waterfall.

“And then you tied yourself to Yennefer, no wonder we could never fucking escape her,” he muttered bitterly. “I had to watch time and time again whilst you tore each other apart, but it wasn’t my fault, Geralt.”

“I know,”

Jaskier snorted. “You wanted the djinn, not me.”

“I know,” Geralt repeatedly earnestly “and fuck, Jask. If I could take it all back I would, but I can’t. Not even Yennefer’s magic is that powerful.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt with watery eyes. “I only ever wanted you to see me.”

“I. I did,” Geralt admitted, reaching across the table to take Jaskier’s hand. The touch burnt his skin and he wanted to pull away, stay angry at the witcher, but dearest Melitele he was weak. He let Geralt touch him, hold his hand like it didn’t stab daggers into his hurt. “I could never look away. You were. You are my sun. Too bright. It blinded me. I could never hold you down, never darken your light.”

Jaskier, for the second time in two days, was speechless. He only managed a strangled laugh, running his hand through his hair in disbelief. “Fuck me,” he breathed. “I’m supposed to be the poet, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled, rubbing small circles into Jaskier’s hand. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Good,” Jaskier said a little too quickly, but gripped Geralt’s hand tighter before he could pull away, lacing their fingers together. “I just need some time, my dear,” he added more softly.

Geralt nodded. “I know.”

“And you’d better treat me right this time,” Jaskier laughed, no real bite to his tone, it was a warning but one that he hoped Geralt didn’t need.

Perhaps he was being naive but he was in love, and Geralt had said he was sorry.

Geralt nodded, looking nothing but sincere, an adorable crease between his brows. “I swear.”

Jaskier flicked the fringe from his eyes, managing a weak smile. He could still feel the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Gods, look at me I’m a mess.”

Geralt just cupped his cheek, wiping the tears away. “You look beautiful.”

Jaskier scoffed, shaking his head and trying to hide his traitorous smile. “Don’t go soft on me now, Geralt.”

“Can I kiss you?” Geralt asked quietly, golden eyes shining with hope that was just too much for Jaskier’s poor heart.

He nodded without words, and Geralt pressed a soft, fucking ridiculously tender, kiss on Jaskier’s lips. Jaskier barely had time to close his eyes before Geralt pulled away, and yet it still had his head spinning. He fell forward slightly as Geralt’s lips left his, chasing the kiss he’d been dreaming of for decades. He felt as if his world had turned upside down, and there was a teensy part of him that was furious. He really had meant to stay mad at Geralt for longer, but when he opened his eyes and saw that stupidly soft smile on Geralt’s face… fuck if he wasn’t going to love this man for as long as he lived.

“Not forgiven you,” he muttered, trying desperately to hold on to his control of the situation. He needed that for his sanity.

Geralt hummed, and pressed their foreheads together. “Take as long as you need, Jask. I’ll wait for you."

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie's witcher writing #suddenly-a-twilight-blog

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des8pudels8kern · 2 years

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Witchers in Kaer Morhen, sharing updates from the war: “...and the earl is too old, so the young viscount is going to lead the Lettenhove troops. He’s apparently some kind of lothario with no experience in either politics or warfare, so that’s going to be a slaughter if they encounter any enemy forces before they join the main corp and someone else can take charge.”

Geralt, after about two decades of ignoring it when Jaskier introduces himself as Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove because Jaskier is just Jaskier, stupid, melodramatic bard forever trying to cozy up the rich and powerful, who picked his name with the same notions of grandeur as Geralt did Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde, only he had no Vesemir to stop him making a fool of himself: “Whomst?!?”

Cue Geralt searching the keep for the non-witcherest gear he can find, putting on a helmet to hide his characateristic eyes and even more characteristic hair, and high-tailing it down the Blue Mountains and out of Kaedwen towards Kerack, where he then can’t bring himself to actually face Jaskier (the facing wouldn’t be an issue, but he’d be expected to say something, explain why he is there, which. No.) and joins the Lettenhove troops under the guise of being just another human soldier.

Jaskier turns out to not be half-bad at the whole strategy thing. Apparently they also taught him a lot of history and politics in between the music and poetry lessons at Oxenfurt, which does include a lot of warfare. Still, theory is one thing, practical battle another, and all Jaskier has been training the last decades is how to identify a threat and then make a hasty retreat to put a witcher between himself and danger, so Geralt stays and tries to stay close.

Battle happens eventually, and Jaskier does as good as can be expected from a tall, fit, healthy man who has no experience holding a sword, let alone swinging it, and inevitably goes down the moment the enemy leader, who has a reputation for being invincible, works his way through the fray to him. Geralt, still in his I am but a lowly human soldier disguise, puts himself between Jaskier and the threat, the way he’s been doing ever since he first met Jaskier.

Enemy leader, evil TM : “Cute of you to try to save your leader, but no man can kill me!”

Geralt, taking off his helmet, white locks flowing in the wind:

He lifts his sword, strikes, kills the enemy leader, the good guys win, etc etc.

“Geralt?”

He looks at Jaskier, his friend, still on the ground, staring up at him in disbelief and wonder.

(“You absolute arse,” yells his grateful and eloquent bard, and kicks Geralt, hard. Turns out all that running really did give him very strong legs, and Lambert can never know that an already downed bard managed to kick Geralt with enough force that he falls and lands with a wet squelch in a mess he refuses to describe for the sake of his dignity.)

#not!fic #the witcher #i should work on my secret santa fic but the mental image of geralt pulling an eowyn popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone #if anyone knows of a fic that has a moment like that please link me?

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gwynbleiddyn · 3 years

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Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde XD

vesemir voice: absolutely not

LMAO let's go, one of my favourite grumpy old men ever to exist in fiction

first impression

i was sus because so many douche gamerbros seemed to really like him and that made me go HMMMM I WONDER WHY

but actually the first scene i saw of him in the stupid bathtub made me laugh so much and also fantasy trope of white hair and ~spEciaL eYeS~ is never lost on me

impression now

hands down one of my favourite protags, ever - not just in a video game (im not as versed in the books) and i was so glad to be proved wildly wrong with my first impression, turns out those gamerbros decided to ignore the entire story and live their weird fantasies out through him instead

there's something that resonates with me about geralt (and witchers as a whole) being shunned or treated as 'other' in common society, and it stuck with me particularly because he still tries to do the right thing, even if he's been stung so many times by those people he's trying to help.

and don't even get me started on how he "can't feel emotion" but this man shows love to the highest degree, for ciri and for yen, for regis and dandelion and vesemir, and his brothers.... he'd do anything for them and i just HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT IT. stupid grumpy old man trying to say he doesnt have emotions smh

and he's just fucking funny, honestly. "im a witcher not a gigolo" remains a firm favourite, but also just him fighting monsters is its own brand of weird witcher comedy that i can't get enough of. AND HIM AND YEN ugh i could listen to their banter all day

favorite moment

i have so many but i have to give this one to the final scene with regis in blood and wine, where he knows his story is... done, or he feels it, and he just gives that bittersweet smile and oh no i'm crying again

idea for a story

i know this would be entirely pointless and unlikely to ever happen for established lore reasons but do you know how much money i would pay to have a fanservice DLC where geralt has to attend a toussaint ball with yen, but also lambert and eskel????? for work reasons but it devolves into a show of utter chaos

unpopular opinion

he doesn't need triss bro i hate to be that person but oh god triss fills me with rage

favorite relationship

it isn't the healthiest relationship and im fully aware of that but geralt/yen just gets to me. i'm a massive sucker for fate and fate-twisted stories, and theirs just ticks every box including and especially the "break the curse to see if your love is real" moment thank u for my life

favorite headcanon

i find it equal parts hilarious and heartwarming to consider geralt actually becoming a wine snob in his pseudo-retirement at corvo bianco

send me a character and i’ll tell you what i think of them!

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