#eskel is a good brother

[slumberingcorpse]

The Wolf and The Fox

Part 4 “Awake”

Summary: Not remembering much after their drunken venture, only a bad taste lingers in Eskel and Geralt’s mouths up until a small redhead finally opens his eyes.

Vesemir wasn’t lying about the trails being the most painful experience in his life. Even then, that description wasn’t close to what Lambert felt. It was a pain that made you beg for death and gods know that he did. His body contorted, twisted, and tore. He felt his bones shatter internally, and stab into his internal organs before mending back together. Halfway through, he became blind. All he felt was his eyes melting. It was as if hot coals were stuffed in his sockets. His whole body felt as if he was burning.

He tried to pull at his restraints but there was no use. He had no control of his body. Even his vocal cords gave out shortly after. Lambert tried to weep but even his tears burned him. He couldn’t bare it anymore, he was going to die. He wanted to die, he wanted it to be over.

For a moment, he thought of his mother. Her words hammered against his skull filling him with nothing but rage. How could she? She didn’t even try to fight to keep him.

Lambert knew he wasn’t the best child, he constantly caused trouble sure, but he always thought he was loved. Maybe not by his father but at least by his mother and brother.

And yet all he can remember is his mom telling him to leave, his brother not even bothering to say goodbye, and his father being more interested in finding another bottle than the fact that he was going to lose a son.

Now here he was, dying the most painful death imaginable. He would laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. Maybe this is what his family wanted all along.

Lambert started to feel numb. The pain was still there but his brain couldn’t process any more of it. He felt tired, he was so tired. His head rolled back against the torture chair as he finally succumbs to the darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geralt anxiously paced around Lambert’s temporary room. It was a small dingy place covered with cobwebs and dust but it was the warmest place in the keep and the closest to Vesemir’s room.

For hours, the only sound in the room was Geralt’s incessant pacing. His heavy snow boots constantly banged against the rotting wood under them.

“Geralt, either you stop that right now or I’ll cut your legs off,” Eskel threats. Unlike his brother, he was calmly sitting on a chair next to Lambert’s bed with a comfortably large book laid out in his lap.

No doubt, it was a book from the keep’s library, the spine, and the cover was starting to rot, and the pages smelt of nothing but dust and the dead skin of the last witcher who read it.

Geralt finally stops and turns to his brother huffing, “It’s been three weeks.”

“It has...” Eskel confirms delicately flipping the page and making sure not to do any damage to the priceless piece of literature.

“He still hasn’t woken up. Shouldn’t we be worried? What if something’s wrong?” Geralt questions unable to stop his body from shifting anxiously as he taps the tip of his boot against the floorboards.

“And you think pacing around as a madman will make him wake up faster?” Eskel questions finally looking up from his book.

Geralt glares at him, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Eskel dismisses turning back to his book, sighing when realizing he lost where he left off.

“The hell you do! Ever since that night, you’ve been acting like a right asshole! So put that stupid book down and tell me what the fuck is your problem!” Geralt demands stomping over to his brother, grabbing and throwing the offending book to the ground causing a few pages to come loose and tear.

Eskel’s eyes widen at the sight before finally getting up. Even though they were the same age, the teen witcher towered over Geralt, “YOU! You’re my problem! One minute you’re telling me how there was no chance of the kid surviving and the next you’re worried sick for him? Who do you think you’re fooling!?”

Geralt couldn’t help but flinch and step back from his brother’s onslaught, “We were stuck in a room only listening to his screams. I was scared!”

“AND YOU THINK I WASN’T!? I was terrified and I wanted my best friend, no, my brother to at least try to comfort me. Find a way to comfort each other. Instead, I had to stand there and listen to you telling me how all that waited for me is a horrible death!” Eskel shouts causing the young witcher to bow his head.

Geralt has never seen Eskel this livid before. Sure they fought before but he’s never seen him like this.

Panic and shame start to set in. Did he really say that?

In all honesty, the whole night was a blur. He remembered the screams, wanting to leave, breaking into the caller, and then waking up the next morning next to Vesemir and Eskel with a need to vomit. Everything else was a blur.

“I-” Geralt tries to explain only to be suddenly interrupted by the sound of panicked gasps and choked sobs from the bed.

Both boys snap their heads toward the sound to find that it was no other than poor Lambert finally waking up and panicking.

“Don’t just stand there, get Vesemir!” Eskel orders shoving Geralt out of the way to get to the young boy. It was shocking how quickly Eskel switched. Sure, he was still fuming but for the moment, it was replaced with concern for their newest member.

Geralt frowns but knows better than to argue. Giving his brother a saddened glance, he quickly leaves the room to fetch their master.

Now completely focused, Eskel gently rubs Lambert’s chest, “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he coos using his free hand to gently brush his hair back.

The small boy’s heart thundered under his palm, his new witcher eyes were frantically dilating unable to adjust to the light. It also didn’t help that Lambert kept trying to shove him away to no avail.

Eskel couldn’t help but pity the poor Lambert. The first time experiencing Witcher's senses is a terrifying one. Your smell, touch, sight, hearing and even taste were expanded tenfold. Suddenly, a soft scent of a flower became an explosive stench of pollen, petals, and the bees that landed on it. Things were no longer hot or cold, they were scorching or freezing. Someone whispering to you from a mile away will sound as clear as day. You were able to see everything, tracks, and even scents. Focus hard enough and you could even see the sound waves bouncing off a person as they talk. It was no surprise the poor pup was in such a state.

“You’re going to be okay. Just breathe,” Eskel tries to help, ignoring how Lambert clawed at his arms trying to find some kind of grounding.

“I...ca...c-can’t…” Lambert gasps as hot tears run down his cheeks. Eskel gently smiled and wiped away his tears, “Yes, you can. You just have to calm down. Take a deep breath and tell me what you need.”

Slowly, his gasps turned into shaky puffs of air, “L-loud...too l-loud...” Lambert managed to say. There was so much noise now. The songs of birds, the howl of wolves, the rushing of water, and even the sway of the trees. He can hear all of it thundering in his ears, it felt as if his eardrums were ready to burst.

Lambert whimpers feeling the hand on his chest start to leave him, “N-no...” he begged, digging his nails into the arm as if the hand was the only thing keeping him alive.

“It’s okay. I’ll be back. I’ll just get you something to help. It’ll be no less than a minute.” Eskel comforts as he slowly pulls his arm away.

Though it was only a minute, it felt like hours to him. He felt lost. He could feel, hear, and see everything and yet he couldn’t understand anything at all.

Lambert shuttered when he felt his bed dip followed by a calloused hand cupping his cheek, “It’s okay, everything is going to be okay. Just keep breathing,” the soft voice tells him before slowly putting something in his ears.

He can still hear things but not to such a degree. Instead of hearing the whole forest, he only heard the room. The fireplace crackling, the creaking of the room, his rapid heartbeat, and the older boy’s much slower heartbeat.

The bed shifts again as the boy stands up and walks toward the window covering the natural sunlight with a large wolf fur blanket before coming back to his side.

“Better?” Eskel asks tenderly picking him up and placing him down on his lap. It wasn’t until now, did Lambert realize how cold he was. His body was covered in sweat and lay next to the fireplace and yet he was freezing.

Eskel seemed to notice and quickly bundled him up in one of his fur cloaks just as Vesemir and Geralt rushed in.

“How is he?” Vesemir asks walking over to the two boys. From the looks of it, the grand master witcher was currently working on fixing the wine cellar’s door. He was covered in sawdust and reeked of sweat causing the tiny witcher to scrunch up his nose before burying his face into Eskel’s shoulder finding the subtle scent of juniper berries and honey much more pleasant.

“Better now. I put earplugs in to help with overstimulation, but his eyes are dilating wildly and he has a fever,” Eskel reports holding the redhead close to his chest.

“It seems he’ll need a bit of help to control his eyes, we’ll try the trial of dreams,” Vesemir states only to be quickly interrupted by no other than Lambert.

“No! No more trials! Not ever again! I’ll kill you if you try!” the young boy shouts unable to stop himself from trembling in fear only to feel the arms around him tighten.

“It’s alright, the trial of dreams doesn’t hurt. You’re asleep the whole time.” Eskel explains causing the young boy to relax.

Vesemir nods in agreement, “He’s right. There won’t be any work on your part but I'll send have to send word to Aldid. He’s a sorcerer that has helped the school for many, many years. You’ll be in good hands, but until then you should rest.” he says before turning to Geralt and Eskel, “Take him to the hot springs, clean him up, and get him dressed. As the older brothers you two have to take care of the younger ones, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Eskel replies confidently while Geralt only softly muttered it under his breath unsure on what to do.

It became clear to Geralt that he was already a shit younger brother so how bad can he fuck up being an older one? I guess there was only one way to find out.

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Tags: @wrongdodo

#witcher fandom #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher lambert #witcher eskel #witcher vesemir #papa vesemir #kaer morons #eskel is a good brother

[thedemonofcat]

To put it nicely, It’s widely known that the Pankratz family are very open about who they love. To put it bluntly, they're a family of slut’s

Soon, it’s discovered that every member of Kear Morhen has, at one point been in a relationship with a Pankratz.

Vessimir was in one with Jaskier's Grandmother, apparently even when Jaskier’s father was born. They're looking into that.

Eskel had a minor fling with Jaskier's sister one summer.

Lamber and Aiden were in a threesome with one of Jaskier's uncles

Coen at a one-night stand with Jaskier's brother

Not even Yennefer, who had a brief encounter with Jaskier's cousin.

Currently, Ciri has not been at any meeting with the Pankratz family. Which is probably a good thing since her Jaskier happens to be a distant cousins.

And there, Geralt and Jaskier

#the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #joey batey #the witcher #jaskier the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fic ideas #vesemir #the witcher lambert #the witcher eskel #witcher coen #the witcher aiden #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #headcanon #yennefer of vengerberg #anya cholatra #the witcher season 3 #anya chalotra #the witcher season three #witcher yennefer

[fangirleaconmigo]

Geraskier

So you know how Jaskier (Viscount Julian) left home and changed his name and since he’s always short on cash, one would assume he was cut off (or cut himself off) from the family fortune?

So what if when his parents finally pass away and and he comes into a substantial amount of money, it is right about the time Geralt is really starting to feel the wear and tear on his body and wonder whether he can be a witcher for much longer, and he’s feeling anxious and melancholic about it but hasn’t admitted that to anyone.

But then he gets an invitation from his dearest friend Jaskier to join him on the coast at a cottage for some rest and recovery.

And when he shows up and drops his bags, he is instantly in love with the place. It seems like something he would build himself. Its decorated with items from their many years of travels. Ciri’s first wooden sword is hung on the wall. There is swallow imagery reflecting her as well, in the paintings and etchings. There are buttercups interwoven with wolves.

When Jaskier takes his things, there are hooks and contraptions that are perfectly shaped to hold his swords and armor without scratching or damaging them. The table and chairs are his perfect height. There is even a fireplace styled just like the one at Kaer Morhen, evoking the memories of many nights drinking with Eskel, Lambert, Coën, and Vesemir.

Jaskier hugs him so tightly he coughs, but it warms his heart and he forgets about his melancholy. Then Jaskier leads him by the hand and takes him to the back garden and his brothers and friends and most thrillingly of all, his daughter, are all sitting around with ale and they shout and toast him.

After he is kissed by Ciri and squeezed in many strong arms, he takes Jaskier aside. By then it is dark and the candles and torches are twinkling illuminating the tables where all the war stories are being told with laughter and copious amounts of swearing.

“What is the occasion, Jaskier? What’s going on? When did you buy this place?”

Jaskier looks at him with so much love and fondness, Geralt’s knees feel weak. Its getting harder and harder to hide these damndable feelings for his dearest friend.

“I didn’t buy it.” He says. “I built it.”

“You built it.”

“Well. I paid someone to build it. Obviously. The important question, though, is whether you like it.”

“I do,” says Geralt. “I love it.“

“Good. Because I built it for you. And the occasion is your retirement, or semi-retirement, if you desire it.”

It takes a good half hour to convince Geralt that Jaskier is not joking with him or teasing him. Jaskier places a key in his hand with a wolf etched on it. Geralt walks around the house in a daze. Jaskier follows behind with a gleeful smile. Like Geralt imagines mothers look on their children’s birthdays and they’ve given them the pony they’ve aways wanted. When the tightness has cleared from Geralt’s throat and he isn’t afraid he’ll sound emotional, he speaks.

“Jaskier,” he says, “why? Why would you do this for me?”

“Because,” Jaskier answers, “you deserve it. You’re always doing for others.”

Geralt feels the tightness in his throat again. He looks into his dearest friend’s eyes and his hands stray to Jaskier’s hips of their own accord.

He has never touched him this way. But he is overcome. Not thinking.

Jaskier smiles. “And because I love y—-“

He does not finish the word because Geralt is kissing him.

Ciri and Zoltan have wandered into the kitchen to look for another barrel of ale and the see the two of them kissing.

Ciri whoops and starts clapping. Zoltan mutters “its about godsdamn time.” Geralt’s ears turn red. Jaskier grins proudly.

Geralt has never felt more content. But he still teases Jaskier relentlessly before he invites him to move in with him.

“Its pretty lonely in this place.”

“You know, no reason I bring this up, but I have always wanted to live on the coast…”

“Maybe I should hire a butler, so the house isn’t so quiet…”

“I loathe you, witcher.”

“Actually, I have it on good authority that you love me.”

Geralt does that for a day or two, teasing between kisses, pretending he doesn’t understand what Jaskier is hinting at in the afterglow, for Geralt to invite him to move in.

They set up two chairs on the porch where they can see the waves and sit next to each other, Jaskier fiddling with his lute and notebook, Geralt nursing his wine.

And it is more than he had ever dared to dream.

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #descarada writes #my geraskier headcanons

[wren-of-the-woods]

Hello! Thank you so much for what you do- could I please have some recs for geraskier fics where geralt is the one pining harder?

Here you go!! I wasn't sure how to categorize who was pining harder in all of these (since our boys are masters of longing lol) but these are all stories where Geralt loves Jaskier very much, and I highly enjoyed them all!

~

favorite by @asweetprologue (Rated G, 5.8k)

Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out.

i’ll kiss you slow by @paintedcrayons (Rated T, 4.9k)

Geralt is not being creepy. He’s not. He’s just looking out for his friend (with a questionable choices in lovers). Lately, Geralt has started to notice the way people treat Jaskier’s affection like a means to an end. They kiss him only to move to the next step, dance with him as pretense to get him into their beds. He would like nothing more than to kiss Jaskier for the sake of it. (He does.)

time and time again by @samstree (Rated G, 5.2k)

Marriage proposals, through the years.

The Best Laid Plans by @dhwty-writes (Rated T, 5.5k)

Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir.

A Friend in the Wild by @samstree (Rated G, 1.6k)

In which Geralt acquires a tiny friend who wouldn't stop following him.

Weak and Wanting by @sociallyawkward--fics (Rated T, 36k)

Geralt had thought that inviting Jaskier to Kaer Morhen after all these years would be a good thing. What he didn't plan on was his brothers deciding to have a little fun with their situation. Lambert and Eskel really needed to stop meddling in things they didn't understand, especially when it came to his bard.

Tell It With Your Heart by @bambirex (Rated G, 2.5k)

While Jaskier always says what's on his mind, Geralt works a little differently. That doesn't mean he cannot tell Jaskier how he feels - he just does that without words.

Repeat After Me by @onwardorange (Rated G, 7.3k)

All it takes is (nearly) three years, two meddlesome brothers, and one exasperated sorceress to get Geralt to admit his feelings for Jaskier.

Love Me Better, Send A Letter by @rebrandedbard (Rated T, 12.5k)

Geralt and Julian have been exchanging letters since participating in an inter-school pen pal program in high school, and Geralt has been pining away for Julian for over a decade since meeting by chance one faithful day in Posada. Between work and Ciri, he hasn't had much time for travelling, but he and Julian still exchange their letters faithfully. Finally, Julian's equally busy life coincides with Geralt's long enough for a short visit, and Geralt has the chance to finally introduce Ciri to the man she knows only on paper. Things would be perfect ... if Julian's visit didn't fall within the week of the concert of Ciri's favorite musician, Jaskier.

Music is no solution by @thecrownprincessbride (Rated T, 4.3k)

Jaskier has self-doubts, and Geralt is there for him.

A Careless Omission by @samstree (Rated T, 5.4k)

Jaskier reveals he has a type. Geralt behaves strangely.

Highway Angel (To the Dark I Said Pour and Forgot to Say When) by @fangirleaconmigo T, 2.8k

Geralt is a long haul truck driver. With long stretches on the road away from his family, and with no one to keep him company but his loyal dog Roach, he has to brave most of his life completely alone. Then one day, just as he is passing the city of Oxenfurt, he turns on the radio and hears a voice.

zero for ten by @yaelathewordsmith (Rated T, 10.4k)

The blue-eyed boy on the school's cricket team seems determined to bowl Geralt out. The worst part is, he isn't even fucking trying. * Or, the ten times Jaskier held Geralt's heart in his hands without knowing, and how Geralt grew to want him to keep it.

~

(You can find my other reclists here!)

#geraskier #the witcher #geralt #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher #twn #wren recs #these are the ones i found searching my bookmarks but i'm sure there are many other good ones! so recs in the notes are highly welcome #it looks like there's a pining geralt tag so you could check that out too if you want #also i only noticed after i put this together that samstree is on it three times #you're the master of geralt pining jin XD #some of these probably appear on my other lists too but they fit the category so here you go! #thank you for this ask by the way!! i'd forgoten how much fun reclists are! #and i'm happy you thought of me <3 #reclists

[echo-bleu]

Okay but. Geralt with auditory processing issues.

The mutations wreck havok on the senses. Sure, they make his hearing range incredible, but they don’t help with the processing, and he’s constantly hearing everything at once. It’s worse for Geralt than the other witchers because he’s had the Grasses twice. (Or because he’s autistic, duh.)

It’s half the reason he communicates so much with grunts, because most of the time he’s only got half of what the other person said and he just lets them interpret his grunts however they want.

And sure, he’s heard Jaskier sing so many times in taverns and courts and his songs are catchy enough, but he’s never actually managed to catch the lyrics. It’s just all gibberish to him. As soon as there’s the lute, and noise, and they’re in a city or a town so there’s people around, he just doesn’t understand any of it. It doesn’t make his “fillingless pie” comment any less insensitive, but it does give it some context.

Every winter the other witchers will make comments about the songs they’ve heard on the Path, about this or that adventure, and Geralt is just like. That. That’s what the song was about. Oh. Eskel isn’t great at auditory processing either but he’ll ask the bards to play over and over until he’s got most of it, and since they’re songs about witchers, the bards usually comply. It’s nice to hear good news of his brother. Then he’ll tease Geralt mercilessly all winter about it. That’s the only reason Geralt even knows so much of what Jaskier sings.

However, he likes hearing snatches of song while Jaskier’s composing, when they’re camping out in the open or in a forest and there isn’t too much noise around. Then he can actually understand the words, sometimes.

He’s very, very good at pretending he can hear just fine, and he’s been doing for so long, but he does feel a little guilty about making Jaskier think he doesn’t like his music. He just doesn’t know how to explain, doesn’t think Jaskier could get it, because no one ever has. Then while they’re all in Kaer Morhen after the mess with Voleth Meir, the other witchers start asking Jaskier to sing, even though he doesn’t have a lute. They’re all completely quiet during his performances, and every time Ciri or Yen or anyone makes a noise and they miss a line, Eskel will ask Jaskier to start over. (Eskel isn’t dead, obviously.)

And one day Geralt finds Jaskier hunched over a desk, with a pile of parchment beside him and his notebook open in front of him, frantically copying something.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m making copies of my songs,” Jaskier answers. “I’ve actually published the whole songbook in Oxenfurt, you know, but we can’t get it here, and Eskel said that having the lyrics would help, so I’m trying to make enough for everyone.”

Geralt’s mind is boggled because yes, having the lyrics written down would help immensely but he would never have thought to ask, let alone that Jaskier might actually be willing to write them down for him, and what’s that about a songbook? He almost just grunts and leaves him to it, but he remembers that he promised himself to at least try to communicate better with Jaskier after the mountain, so he asks in a very small voice, “Can I have one?”

And Jaskier’s jaw hangs slack for a moment before he coughs and hands him a stack of parchment. “I wasn’t sure you’d want it,” he mutters almost to himself.

“I always want to know what you’re singing,” Geralt says.

Jaskier’s eyes are wide and shining when he hugs Geralt, and his voice cracks a little. “I wish I’d realized sooner that you couldn’t hear it.”

That night he sings his entire song cycle a capella in front of the fire, his eyes boring into Geralt the entire time, as Geralt follows the lyrics along for the first time.

And Jaskier’s songs are really fucking good, actually. Geralt is hardly an expert, but he can see the way he bends and stretches language to make it flow and how he weaves the stories together and he can feel the love in how Jaskier sings about him, about them, and---

Is that what he’s been missing this whole time?

Brought to you by: the long-ass time it took me to get into The Amazing Devil’s wonderful music because I couldn’t fucking hear the words until I sat down and listened to every song while following along with the written lyrics.

#the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #echo's fanfiction #sort of

[shy-urban-hobbit]

"Lambert, you'd tell me if I'd done something to offend Aiden wouldn't you?"

"Tell you, yell at you, throw you in the nearest snow bank. All good options. Ask him yourself though."

"I did." Jaskier replied, throwing himself down on the low stone wall Lambert was in the process of trying to repair. "He says not, but I'm worried he's just saying that to try and keep the peace."

"Trust me Bard. Aiden may be a little more tactful than some of us here with what comes out of his mouth, but he definitely lets you know if you've pissed him off."

"Then why does he keep looking at me oddly?"

Lambert downed tools and turned to look at Jaskier, giving up on getting any work done for the time being, "Odd how?"

"Whenever I go to talk to him or start playing, he looks at me like..." Jaskier squinted, the expression making him look slightly haughty and Lambert had a feeling he suddenly understood the confusion.

"I don't want to possibly make it worse by bringing it up with him. I mean, how many times has the phrase you're looking at me funny not ended in a fight? I'm trying not to take it personally, but literally the only time people look at me like that is when I've pissed them off or I've got something on my face."

"You do. But that's not what that look's for." Lambert smirked at the squawk Jaskier let out as he started wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"Relax, Jaskier." Lambert said mussing the others hair roughly, "Means the exact opposite with Cats. Means he likes you. Probably doesn't even realise he's doing it."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, confused the hell out of me too. The amount of times I thought he was looking to start shit in the beginning. Next time, do it right back."

"Wha-"

"Just, trust me alright. Now, piss off so I can finish this."

Lambert entered the hall just as the others were settling down to eat. He was sore all over but at least he could now tell Vesemir that particular section of wall was done (and to fuck off if he was expecting him to start another tomorrow. Let Eskel do some of the heavy lifting).

He took his usual place opposite Aiden, Jaskier on the Cats right and chattering about something Lambert probably had no interest in but seemed to have grabbed Aiden's attention. The Bard met Lambert's eyes briefly before squinting his own as Aiden contributed something to the conversation. The result was instant. Aiden immediately shuffled closer to Jaskier so they were pressed shoulder to shoulder. Grabbing a couple of bread rolls and placing them on the table between them.

Lambert turned his attention to his stew unconcerned, not begrudging his partner a new friend. He knew Aiden's affections for him weren't in danger of wandering and neither were Jaskier's for Geralt.

He raised his spoon in salute when Jaskier mouthed "Thanks" at him. Ignoring Geralt's own perplexed expression from next to him. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell his brother that, for all his opinions on Aiden's school, he'd unknowingly been doing 'love blinks' at him ever since the Cat's first year staying with them.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden/lambert #aiden x lambert #lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert #witcher jaskier #jaskier #jaskier aiden friendship

[essskel]

the whole ‘Eskel is a better witcher than Geralt’ stuff has always made me more sad than anything else. Geralt’s arc as a character is the building acceptance that even though he was raised a witcher and the profession is part of him : he’s a human, and he’s happy to be one.

but Eskel is a witcher. He’s not just ‘better’ at killing monsters he’s ‘better’ at wearing the title. He truly does work to cap his emotions, to succumb to the 9-5, to accept that his mutations make him something separate from the human he was born as.

He sees the stereotypes and the stigmatization of witchering and he only allows himself to step outside these forced boundaries when prompted by Geralt, Lambert, or Ciri, and even then he makes it clear that he’s making an exception.

And that’s not to say his moments of vulnerability and human connection are unnatural to him, he feels love and is drawn to protect those that he loves same as Geralt, but he’s out of practice in acting on these emotions because he’s a case study in survival repression.

He never solidifies a relationship with Ciri in the way Lambert does (in the books), he’s not even shown goofing around with her like Coën. He’s kind to her and he loves her and he goes on to put his life on the line to save her, but the vastness of his self-imposed missed opportunities is sickening. And that’s not even touching on the decay of his relationship with Lambert, or his white-knuckle grip on Vesemir.

Eskel is a good fucking witcher, he’ll dispose of your monsters faster and cleaner than his brothers ever will. But when his niece starts reminiscing on her favorite memories from childhood, he’ll be waiting a long damn time before she says his name.

#his vacant relationship with ciri genuinely haunts my waking dreams OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD #please don’t take this post as ‘anti-eskel’ he’s literally my url. i’m just being sad abt him bc he makes me sad #eskel #witcher eskel #kaer morons #the witcher #the witcher games #lambert #double shot

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Broken Heart

Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.

You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.

Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, violence

Previous Chapter

Chapter 12-

Travelling the Continent constantly looking over your shoulder for danger wasn't so different from when you used to walk The Path with Geralt and Eskel slaying monsters for coin.

You missed those days.

Life had been so much simpler back then.

And you missed your twin brother dearly.

Now, you were running from powers across the Continent who wanted to get to Ciri and use her Elder Blood for their own personal gain. You had lost track of how many different factions were hunting the girl, but it didn't matter. You were never letting anyone touch her.

Recently, you had found yourselves taking refuge in one of Yarpen’s cabins situated on the outskirts of the woods by a frozen lake. You were surprised that he was willing to help you, knowing what kind of heat you would bring to his area if anyone found out, but you also knew that he wanted the hush money for his discretion, so actually, you weren't surprised at all.

Yennefer had followed along with you, Geralt and Ciri, moving from place to place with you guys without complaining. She continued trying to train the young girl with her powers, but as far as you could tell, that training hadn't been very successful.

Jaskier had travelled with you for a while too before meeting a woman named Vespula, and well, he chose to stay with her for the time being while the four of you kept moving. You missed his constant ramblings and his beautiful yet annoying singing, but you understood why he chose to stay, and you couldn't hold that against him.

When nobody came knocking at your door after a couple of months by the lake, you all unknowingly began letting your guard down. Your little cabin that you shared with Geralt and Ciri was starting to feel like home.

It was nice.

It was domestic.

Yennefer lived in the small cabin next door. She never once tried to sleep in the same house as you guys which you were grateful for. Although you were willingly dealing with her being around, you still didn't trust her after everything she had done.

The mage wasn't stupid, she knew that you didn't exactly like her, so she respected your privacy and kept her distance. She taught Ciri magic in the mornings, and you trained Ciri in the afternoons on how to fight and be a Witcher. It worked. You had a good routine and Ciri was happy, so that was all that mattered.

"Thank you for the supplies, Yarpen." You said, taking the last crate of potatoes from his horse cart.

"What would you guys do without me, eh?"

"We would probably starve for one." Ciri chuckled, taking a bite from one of the fresh apples.

"We wouldn't starve." You rolled your eyes, placing the crate down on the ground. "We can still hunt food, but these are greatly appreciated."

"Oh, I forgot to tell ya, our Belleteyn festival is down the valley. You should come." Yarpen offered, looking over at Ciri.

The girls eyes lit up, "I'd love to."

"It's not safe."

"No."

"Bad idea."

You, Geralt and Yennefer all answered at once causing Ciri to glare at you.

Well, at least the adults were on the same page.

"No one's asked about me for months and everyone will be in costume. And... I was born on Belleteyn." Ciri negotiated.

"Ah! You'd have had a shot at bein' May Queen. Except my niece's beard is comin' in nice and full this year." Yarpen laughed with a wink causing Ciri to giggle.

Geralt practically hissed as he walked past Yarpen, glaring at the smaller man who sobered up his laughter real quick before sighing.

"Just say yes, already! About time for a fuckin' thaw round here."

Ciri looked between you and Geralt with a bright smile, but you just shook your head. It was too risky. After everything you had done to make this place a safe haven, you couldn't risk throwing it all away for some stupid festival.

"I promise I'll be safe."

Geralt glanced over at her hesitantly before looking over at you with a questioning look, but you shook your head again.

"We can't risk it."

"Please, I'll be safe. I swear." Ciri practically begged before Yennefer walked over and joined the conversation.

"I guess it probably wouldn't hurt. She's a girl, I think she deserves to have some fun with other people for at least a couple of hours."

You turned and gave Yennefer a pointed look that she knew meant, shut up. But she completely ignored you and turned to look at Ciri.

"Yarpen just told me that he dropped off a bag full of old dresses for us to choose from. C'mon."

Ciri's smile spread further as she took Yennefer’s hand and you watched in disbelief as the two of them rushed into the cabin without further word, leaving you and Geralt standing outside.

"What the fuck just happened?" You said, staring at the closed door before glancing over at Geralt. "Does she think that she's in charge here?"

Geralt sighed, "she is not in charge. But... I guess one night won't be so bad."

Whoa, wait, what?

You opened your mouth to argue, but quickly closed it again. This wasn't a fight worth having. Geralt wouldn't allow this if he didn't think Ciri would be safe, and you trusted Geralt.

Later that night, you were sitting at the kitchen table with Geralt debating whether or not you should go with them to this festival or if you should stay back and watch the house, but Ciri had already decided for you.

"Y/N, I found the perfect dress for you!" The girl shouted from her bedroom.

That caught Geralt's attention. He looked away from the knife he was sharpening and raised his eyebrows at you.

"You're gonna wear a dress?" He asked, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen you wear a dress."

"For good reason. Dresses are impractical. They get in the way. These pants and shirt are much easier to move and fight in." You replied, motioning towards the clothes you were currently wearing.

"I've never been to a Belleteyn festival outside of Cintra before. You know, this one year, Sir Lazlo tried to jump the bonfire in full armour." Ciri continued to say from her room before her door opened. "What do you think?"

You glanced over your shoulder and couldn't stop yourself from smiling as you took in the beautiful long blue dress she was wearing. That colour with her long light hair, it suited her perfectly.

"I think you need to hide your hair and mask your eyes." Geralt muttered, turning his attention back to his knife.

The smile on Ciri’s face instantly vanished and you kicked Geralt’s shin from under the table causing him to glare at you.

"Would it kill you to say, 'You look lovely'?" Ciri mumbled before she stormed off back into her bedroom.

"Ciri." Geralt sighed, but she was already gone. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"It is a bad idea. But she is also just a little girl. All she wanted was for you to approve of her outfit and maybe tell her she looks nice because believe it or not, that girl looks up to you. Your opinion matters to her." You explained, looking at your boyfriend across the table.

"It shouldn't."

"Maybe. But it does. She cares about what you think. Remember that."

You stood up, giving Geralt’s shoulder a small squeeze as you walked past before you knocked her bedroom door softly.

"Hey, kiddo, can I come in? I wanna see that beautiful dress of yours up close and I believe you have one inside for me?" You asked, and a second later the door opened, but Ciri was still frowning a little. "Don't worry about him. He's just a grumpy old man."

"A grumpy old man that can hear you." Geralt grunted from the table.

"You were meant to!" You shouted over your shoulder causing Ciri to chuckle softly before she stepped to the side and let you into her room.

She walked over to her bed and picked up another dress before holding it up for you to see, and it was gorgeous.

It was a simple long dress that looked a little too small for your liking, but the dark blue was a nice colour, you had to admit that.

"What do you think?" Ciri asked cheerfully.

"It might be a bit small. But I can try it."

"It will fit. If there is one thing I am good at, it is fashion. Trust me."

"Trusting you then."

Ciri was right. The dress did fit, and as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. It was beautiful and hugged your curves just perfectly.

“Can you go and grab my sword?”

Ciri nodded, walking out the room and leaving you to admire yourself in the mirror for a few minutes before she returned with your sword in her hand.

"Here. What are you gonna do with it?"

"I am not going anywhere without it. Here, I need your help. Can you pull the back of the dress away from my body?" You asked, taking the sword.

Ciri frowned a little but nodded and stepped behind you before grabbing the back of your dress and holding it away from your skin. You lifted your sword up behind you before carefully sliding it down your back until the tip of the handle was in line with the back of your neck.

"Hold the sword there while I tighten the corset."

"This is so cool." Ciri whispered, holding the sword against your back beneath your dress while you tightened the corset enough to hold the sword in place while still being able to breathe in the meantime.

"Ta-da." You said, holding your arms out as you spun around just to make sure that the sword was secure.

By Ciri's silence yet stunned look on her face, you were going to assume that you looked good and that she liked the sword idea. So, you smiled at the young girl before slipping back on your usual boots because why put on fancy shoes that hurt your feet when the dress was too long to see them anyway?

"Oh, wait, almost forgot the masks." Ciri said, snapping herself out of her shock before she rushed over to the desk and picked up the two masks. "Here."

To your surprise, the mask matched the colour of your dress identically and you had a few questions for Yarpen about why and how he had access to such clothing.

You slipped the mask on over your face while Ciri raised her handheld mask over her own and you both grinned at each other.

Dressing up like this wasn't something you thought you would enjoy. You grew up surrounded by boys. You never once had a girl around, it was always boys. And those boys, you loved them all like brothers, but this was something none of them would enjoy or do with you, so it was nice to let your hair down for once.

"Are you two ready yet?" Yennefer's voice called out from the main room.

You glanced over at Ciri, "ready to go?"

"Come on!" She grabbed your hand and pulled you out the bedroom just as Geralt stood up from his chair and had to do a double take when he saw you.

His mouth parted in silent shock, but no words came out. Those beautiful golden eyes looked you up and down, but he seemed unable to speak.

"Geralt, tell her that she looks lovely." Ciri prompted from beside you.

Geralt blinked, glancing at the girl before focusing back on you and clearing his throat.

"You look lovely, Y/N."

His voice was a little rougher than usual and you smiled taking that as a compliment before you glanced over at Yennefer who was standing in the doorway. She had a nice black dress and matching mask on, and as always, she looked absolutely stunning.

Geralt slipped on a large black cloak, hiding his clothes and white hair before the four of you left the safety of your new home and made your way to the festival.

The sound of music blasting and people laughing could be heard for miles before you finally reached the festival, and you weren't sure how many people you were expecting to be there, but it sure as hell wasn't this many.

Crowds of people covered the area. Many dancing, others standing around with drinks talking and laughing with one another.

"I don't like this." You whispered, leaning closer to Geralt.

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side while you entered the festival, your eyes frantically scanning the mass number of people cautiously.

"Just be on guard." He whispered back.

"Always."

Ciri had left to go dancing with the locals while you, Geralt and Yennefer found a nice quite spot by the ale tent. You watched Ciri as she danced, her smile so bright it was lighting up the whole area.

She was having fun. She was happy. That was the main thing.

It wasn't long before Ciri managed to drag the three of you with her to the maze. What a garden maze had to do with a festival was something you couldn't quite figure out, but Ciri seemed excited to go inside, so you followed.

You lost the girl within the first 30 seconds, Geralt and Yennefer also nowhere to be seen.

Maybe going in a maze wasn't the smartest idea.

You weren't too concerned though until the sound of people’s laughter around you turned into petrified screams.

Oh, that couldn't be good.

Scared civilians rushed past you trying desperately to get out of the maze and away from whatever had them so frightened. You could hear Geralt and Yennefer calling out Ciri's name from somewhere in the maze while Ciri shouted back at them.

Neither of them was with Ciri.

She was alone and in danger.

That realisation made your stomach drop.

Reaching back behind you, your fingers clasped around the handle of your sword before you pulled it out and held it up in front of you. The civilians were still rushing past, screaming and crying at everyone to run, so you did what you always did.

You turned around and marched towards the danger.

The ground beneath you was starting to rumble and you could hear the sound of something snorting and growling. You were close.

"Ciri, where are you?!" You yelled, trying to run through the maze, but your tight dress was restricting your movements. "Fuck it."

You hacked away at the bottom of your dress with the sword. The blade slicing through the blue material until your legs were free from the restraining fabric, the dress now super short, but at least you could run.

"Ciri!" You continued to shout as you ran, turning left and right, but continuously finding yourself facing a dead-end.

Fuck, mazes really sucked.

"Y/N?!" Ciri's voice shouted desperately.

You looked around and realised that searching for Ciri in this maze like this was too time consuming. The tall hedge to your left had a stone feature beside it and you knew that was your best bet.

Without hesitation, you climbed up the stone wall to get the high ground before spotting Ciri a few rows away. The girl was slowly backing away from a large monster and-

Oh, fuck was that a Jackapace?

Its body resembled that of an armadillo, but a hundred times more terrifying. They were blind though but used their sense of smell to navigate and of course, to locate their targets. It's target right now, was Ciri.

It didn't even care about you, it was zeroed in on one thing, and one thing only, that little girl.

You ran along the top of the maze, jumping over rows to get to Ciri, but the Jackapace was already charging at her and you knew you weren't going to reach her in time.

Ciri raised her hand and started chanting in Elder trying to use her magic before Yennefer suddenly appeared behind her and used her own magic, throwing the monster back a few meters to buy some time.

Oh, thank God.

Geralt appeared out of nowhere, slicing his sword along the side of the creature, but it simply whacked the Witcher away with its thick tail, sending Geralt flying through the air and landing on the ground, hard.

That was all the time you needed before you leaped over the last row of the maze and jumped down, spearing your sword through the Jackapace's head, pinning it to the ground.

The monster shrieked in pain but didn't die. It thrashed its body from side to side while you struggled to hold the sword down through its skull. If you released the sword, this monster would go feral and Ciri who was somewhere behind you, would be dead.

"Geralt!" You shouted, using all your strength to keep its head pinned to the dirt. "It's heart. It needs to be stabbed through the heart!"

"Move!"

You yanked your sword out and jumped backwards, trusting Geralt's word blindly. The monster reared up on its back legs, its body now twice as tall as it roared down at you before Geralt suddenly slid under it and stabbed his sword up into its chest, the blade piercing through its heart.

The Jackapace's angered roar died in its throat before Geralt pulled his sword out and the monster collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

You let out a sigh of relief before you turned around to find Yennefer standing beside Ciri who was staring at the dead creature with wide eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, rushing over to the young girl.

"Yeah, yeah." She nodded, unable to pull her eyes away from the monster.

"Hey." You said gently, stepping in front of her and blocking her view of the creature before her green eyes met yours. "I was never going to let that monster get to you. You know that, right?"

"I know." She answered honestly before she looked down at your dress and frowned. "It's ruined."

You chuckled, "dresses were never really my thing. They look better on you."

That caused the girls eyes to brighten a little, a small smile forming on her lips before Geralt walked over to the three of you, scanning you all for injuries before letting out a sigh of relief when he couldn't see any.

"We need to leave." He muttered, motioning for you all to follow him.

Nobody dared to argue or say anything as you followed him through the maze. You were already lost in this damn thing, but Geralt somehow seemed to know his way around and before you knew it, you were walking back through the woods to your cabin.

"You good?" Geralt asked quietly, glancing over at you.

You nodded, "thanks for the backup."

“Thanks for the save.” Geralt replied.

When you returned to the cabin, you all got to quick work with backing up your things because this location was no longer safe. If that monster managed to find Ciri, then more would too. You had to move on.

"We'll find another home." Geralt insisted, looking over at Ciri who was sadly packing away her items.

"I liked this one." She whispered, refusing to look at him.

"We all did." Yennefer's voice responded, walking into your cabin with her bag already packed. "How did that thing find us?"

"A Jackapace hunts by scent. It found Ciri because it knew her." Geralt answered.

"Her scent? How?"

"Vesemir told me that Rience stole Ciri's blood from Kaer Morhen." Geralt began to say, coming to the same realisation as you. "He must have used the blood as a scent marker."

"Great. That's just great. Perfect. Fucking perfect." You swore, leaning your back against the wall as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "So, wherever we go, that fire fucker will find us?"

Geralt glanced over at you sadly, "yes... unless we find him first."

"We draw him out." Ciri suddenly said, bringing your attention to her. "We give him the thing he wants most. Me."

-

Next Chapter

-

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries

A/N- Season 3 is finally out!!! (well part 1 anyway)

So I am back with new chapters as we continued on with y/n's journey with Geralt, Ciri, Yen and our favourite bard! I hope you all enjoy ❤️

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia fanfic #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #jaskier #henry cavill #joey batey

[solcorvidae]

I've been thinking about how Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt all deal with the trials and how it shapes them into the people they would grow to become.

Lambert remembers his past. He is angry, upset, bitter, and vindictive. He's got this fire in him that is only stoked by the pain and suffering forced upon him. He remembers the boys who did not make it: the hell they all had to go through, and he has a complicated relationship with Vesemir that surrounds it. Lambert does questionable things that Geralt is bothered by in his grief and anger. Geralt calls him out for killing in cold blood, needlessly and mercilessly.

Lambert avoids Vesemir at Kaer Morhen and mocks him when he is not around. He may come off as childish and like an asshole, but Lambert knows what he feels. Lambert doesn't lash out because he can't control his emotions or because he doesn't understand the path of least resistance. He knows. He chooses to avoid conflict with Vesemir at Kaer Morhen by keeping out of his way. He knows he can't control his emotions effectively if he is face-to-face with him for too long. He knows, and he isn't stupid.

Lambert talks to Geralt about the trials and the injustice of it all. He probably looks up to Geralt, hoping his brother feels just as angry about it as he does. He went through the Trial of the Grasses twice for Christ's sake! Why is he not more angry? Why is he so apathetic?

And Geralt brushes him off time and time again. Such is life, is his attitude. We all went through it, he says. Geralt can't be upset because there is nothing he can feasibly do about it. He didn't choose to be a Witcher. He wouldn't have chosen this life. He would have some other job somewhere else, just like he told Regis. He can't change the past. He can't go back and fix something he never had control over in the first place. Besides, they can’t inflict the trials upon a new generation of kids, not anymore. It’s in the past now, so why dwell on it? What’s done is done and thank god no other kids have to suffer the way they did. It’s over. It’s time to move on.

Geralt doesn't enjoy fame. He tells Eskel this in To Bait a Forktail. Geralt is the famous twice-grassed White Wolf. He is The Witcher. The famed Geralt of Rivia. He has expectations piled upon him the size of mountains. He's got to be the perfect Witcher, he's got to be a loyal brother, a lover, and a best friend… Geralt had expectations put upon him that set him aside from the rest since he was a kid. He hates it. Underneath the banter and the wit, Geralt accepts that this is his life, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He tolerates it because it is his reality and nothing more. If he thinks about it for too long… maybe it will consume him.

"You remember her?" he asks Eskel about his mother.

Unlike Lambert, Geralt hardly knows what it means to live another life. He doesn't have that following him like it does with his brother. What little he remembers is not enough to erase the apathy drilled into him at such a young age. Maybe he has a more strict moral code than say, Lambert, (or if you want to bring in the other Witcher schools, most of the Cats and the caravan) but that doesn't make him the most ethical person on the Continent. How could you be? After all that he has endured, the things he was taught? Where do you draw the line? He kills monsters, but like in Velen, it's hard to see where the line's drawn in the sand.

Humans are monstrous too.

Eskel, however? Maybe he's jealous. He did everything right, why shouldn’t he be? He is superiorly skilled in magic, one hell of a good Witcher. He has a reputation for it. Maybe he's not as kind as your average person, but he gets the job done. He's got a more relaxed demeanour than his brothers which reveals itself in his reputation. He's reliable. He is damn good at what he does. So why does Geralt get all the attention? The fame? He clearly doesn't want it.

While Lambert got turned into a vindictive prick and Geralt became a quick-witted nihilist, Eskel? He's exactly who he should be. Why shouldn't he be praised for it like his brother? Why should he be forced to bend over backwards to accommodate people and keep up with his reputation? For what? His skills? Ha! He lives in the shadows of Geralt who's notably a good Witcher, but he's not quite as good as Eskel.

Eskel was beaten shaped into the man he is today because of the trials, his training, and everything else. Should he not get credited for that too? Why does someone who doesn't even want his fame get all the recognition? Genetic predisposition? Shouldn't his hard work be given more consideration and praise? Thank god Geralt survived the hell of being subjected to two rounds of mutagens rather than one, but why should that overshadow the efforts, the time, and the sacrifices that everyone else around him has made? Eskel is exactly the man that they intended him to be by the end of it all. He is an efficient hunter, he is outstanding with signs, and he works diligently for his reputation. He did everything right. He does everything right. Why is that not enough?

TL;DR: Lambert, Geralt and Eskel handle their traumas in different ways. Lambert gets vengeful, Geralt gets apathetic, and Eskel gets borderline jealous. (And it breaks my heart)

#this probably doesn't make as much sense as it does in my head but I tried to write it in the most coherent way that I could #this has been gnawing at me since last night I needed to get it out of my head because its eating me alive #the witcher #the witcher 3 #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #eskel witcher #lambert witcher #eskel tw3 #lambert tw3 #meta post #witcher meta #sol rambles #sol scribbles

[vesemirsexual]

My hot take of the day is: Vesemir lets Lambert get away with murder compared to the other two and it’s not just because he’s the baby of the group

The thing is: Vesemir fucked up so bad. He let over a century worth of kids be traumatised, subjected to medical and experimental violence, sent broken into a world that they likely wouldn’t return from. It wasn’t solely his fault, and he’s also a victim of the system - but he’s also a part of the cycle, an essential cog.

Geralt and Eskel accept it. They see him as someone who did what he had to, did the best with what he had available to help them. It’s not even that they forgive him, because I don’t think they conceptualise it as something to be forgiven in the first place.

Lambert though? Vesemir actually has to work to earn respect and acceptance from Lambert. Lambert doesn’t hold any illusions about the greater good: he sees their lives as fucked up violations, and Vesemir as a perpetrator (even though I heavily suspect Lambert also identifies Vesemir as a victim as well, even if he doesn’t want to or won’t acknowledge it).

Lambert would and could walk away from Kaer Morhen for good. Vesemir can’t just treat him like a trainee, or an underling, because he knows this too. Even though they fight like dogs (inevitable, given their personalities) Vesemir has to try and reach out to Lambert in whatever way he can, because he does genuinely care about him and doesn’t want him to walk away (because realistically, Vesemir is the keeper of KM and if the fights with Lambert actually pissed him off, he could tell him to get lost next season and Lambert would).

And you can see that they do have a relationship. Lambert jumps to Vesemirs defence when Yennefer comments. Lambert is set to inherit his sword, that “fits perfectly in his hand”. I think it’s telling that when they fight about abandoning KM, Vesemir storms off for an entire month - I think that if Geralt or Eskel had pulled that fight, they would’ve been running the walls. Lambert? Vesemir leaves.

(Additionally, I feel the defence of each other goes the same way lmao. I feel like if Lambert and Vesemir fights and one of the other Wolves tries to side with Vesemir or comment on it, Vesemir is like “no thanks ass-kisser. don’t talk about your brother like that. run the wall 20 times”)

#i have so many thoughts about them #katie txt

[queenxxxsupreme]

Rare Encounters (Jaskier x f!witcher!reader)

A/N: hi guys…. I finished Fallout the tv show and it gave me that urge to write that I haven’t had in a while. Now fingers crossed that it works for the long run. Once I can get a good feel for the Fallout universe, my ass will 100% be writing fallout fics 😂

Warnings: nothing outside of canon

Summary: Jaskier meets his first female witcher.

“I swear, you all live like fucking pigs.” You grumbled as you picked up the empty tankards and bowls.

“Oh, just relax, Y/N.” Lambert spoke from across the room. He sat at a table with most of the other wolves as they told stories and carried on. “No one cares what this place looks like.”

“I do, as should you.” You placed the dirty dishes on to the end of one of the empty tables. “Who is going to be doing dishes tonight?”

All of the wolves diverted their eyes away from you.

“Oh come on, boys. It’s just dishes. You’ve done worse, I’m sure of it.”

“I’d rather gut an ekimorra than do house chores.” Coen shook his head.

“Alright. Well then, I’ll just choose for myself who will be the lucky one.”

“When are ya goin’ to get eaten by a cockatrice or something, Y/N?” The redhead wolf teased. “All this nagging you do is–,”

With a flick of your wrist and a sign of aard, Lambert was sent backwards off of the bench. You grinned just a little.

“You fucking–,” He signed aard back at you the second he was on his feet, but you were quick to sign quen, blocking his attack.

“Don’t start that this early in the winter, Lambert.” Vesemir scolded him as he moved to sit next to Coen.

“Me?” Lambert raised his brows. “She’s the one who started it!”

The doors to the keep opened, bringing in a rush of cold wind. You looked up to see Geralt, a man, and a girl walking in.

The wolves fell silent as Geralt pushed the hood off of his head. A fond smile came to his lips.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Lambert stood to his feet and took a few steps towards his brother. Coen followed.

“We thought you were dead, or lost.”

“Not yet.” Geralt embraced Coen first and then Lambert.

All the other wolves soon took their turn greeting their fellow witcher.

“Y/N.” He said your name fondly. “Glad to see you didn’t let Lambert get you killed on the path.”

“I about killed her myself a couple times.” Lambert glared at you. “She’s like having a second Vesemir around, except some how she’s worse!”

You gave him a shove away from you, rolling your eyes.

“That’s the last time I spend time with you on the path.” Your words were directed to Lambert while you gave Geralt a hug. “Now I have to spend the entire winter in this gods damned keep with him too.”

“Have you seen Eskel, Geralt?” Lambert returned to his seat.

“He’s not here?” Geralt furrowed his brow.

“Haven’t seen any sign of him.” Coen shook his head. “Usually he’s one of the first one’s here, but hasn’t made it this year.”

“Hmm.”

“Wolf. You’re home.” Vesemir was the last to greet the White Wolf.

“I had to make a few stops.” Geralt looked back to the girl and the man to his left.

Your eyes fell on her. Your medallion had trembled when she first entered the room and even now, you could still feel the chaos radiating off of her. She seemed curious, bright eyes taking in every witcher around her. Then she looked at you. You held her gaze, lifting your chin just a little in acknowledgement.

You turned to continue cleaning up the mess the wolves left behind as introductions were made between Geralt’s guests and the wolves.

“And who might she be?” Jaskier asked Geralt as you picked up an empty pitcher from the table the wolves sat at.

“Y/N here is the maid of the keep.” Lambert answered for you. His eyes followed you as you moved around the table, a little grin playing on his lips. “Helps keep everything all nice and clean for us men.”

You launched the pitcher at his head. He dodged to the side, nearly pushing Coen off of the bench in the process.

“You’re going to get yourself into trouble this winter, Lambert.” Vesemir warned him.

“This is Y/N.” Geralt introduced you properly. He and his guests took a seat at the table with the rest of the wolves. “She’s our sister.”

“Sister?” Ciri repeated, furrowing her brows. “As in a witcher?”

“It would seem that way.” You confirmed with a slight nod and a sigh.

“That’s absolutely amazing!” Jaskier exclaimed. “A lady witcher.”

“I think calling her a lady may be overselling it.” Coen snickered.

“Yeah, she ain’t no lady.” Lambert added.

You moved to lean in between him and Coen, reaching for an empty plate. As you were turning away from the table, you made sure to purposefully smack both of the wolves in the head with the plate.

“Fuck!”

“Why don’t you boys make yourselves useful and go do these dishes before they get out of hand?” You placed the bin of dirty dishes down in front of Coen.

They grumbled but decided not to fight it. If they did dishes now, they wouldn’t have to do them later. Or so they thought.

“You’ve never mentioned that you had a sister, Geralt.”

The White Wolf grumbled in his chest as he looked at his bard. It was a warning. He knew very well how Jaskier was with the opposite sex.

“Geralt doesn’t like to do such a thing.” You settled with sitting at the end of a bench at one of the tables. “I would take away all the spotlight from the grand White Wolf. If word got out about a lady witcher, why, the White Wolf wouldn’t be so exciting, now would he?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at you as he moved to the table that had a jug of ale and mugs. He poured himself a mug and then returned to sit across from you.

“If it wouldn’t be too much, I would absolutely love to hear more about you.” Jaskier sat down just beside Geralt. He leaned against the table with both hands and his voice oozed with excitement. “You see, I am a bard by trade. Perhaps you’ve heard some of my work.”

You gazed into his blue eyes, a grin tugging at the corner of your scarred lips.

“You’re a brave soul, bard.”

He smiled a bit bashfully, cheeks flushing light pink.

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.” Geralt told him. His words made Jaskier’s smile drop.

“What? Of-Of course it was!”

“It was more of an observation, bard.” You said. “Not many could come to a witcher’s keep and ask a witcher to share her war stories just moments after meeting her.”

“Jaskier has no fear.” Geralt sighed.

“Well, I-I wouldn’t say that. I have plenty of fear.”

You smiled a little at the bard.

“How was the Path this year?” Geralt changed the subject. “I can’t imagine spending the whole year with Lambert was pleasant.”

“Oh, it was anything but pleasant.” You let out a small breath, scratching your fingertips over a groove in the wooden tabletop. “I’d rather have my eyes gouged out with spoons than spend that much time with him.”

Geralt chuckled a little.

“Y/N!” You heard Coen shout your name from the kitchen. You turned your head to the side, listening closely to what was going on.

Geralt furrowed his brows a little and tilted his head. He could also hear the roughhousing going on in the kitchen.

“Ah, fuck.” You grunted, pushing yourself to your feet.

“Is something wrong?” Jaskier asked you.

“My brothers are fools. Excuse me, bard. Princess.”

Jaskier watched as you crossed the room and disappeared behind a heavy wooden door. He didn’t realize he had been staring for too long until the White Wolf grumbled.

The bard turned his head to his traveling companion, brows falling and lips pressing together in a line as he found the witcher glaring at him.

“What?”

“Don’t think about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You get that same look in your eye when we go to banquets. That same look has gotten you nearly killed for bedding the wrong woman.”

“Geralt! Have a little faith in me! That is your sister for crying out loud! I-I would— I would never—,”

“Unfortunately, I know you too well, Jaskier.”

Jaskier found himself looking back to the door you had disappeared through. A sheepish smile crossed his lips.

“She is rather stunning, isn’t she?”

“Jaskier.”

“It’s a compliment!”

Geralt shook his head.

“She will rip you to pieces.”

“Isn’t that the hope?” Jaskier grinned.

“Gross.” Ciri scrunched her nose up. She had been so quiet that Jaskier almost forgot that they were in the company of the young girl.

“Sorry, Ciri.”

***

You carried a mug in one hand as you left the kitchen. It had been a few hours since Geralt and his guests had arrived. By now, night had fallen on Kaer Morhen. Lambert was preparing a late dinner for everyone. Coen and Vesemir were fixing a fallen shelf in the library. Ciri was in the library reading through a few books to pass time.

Geralt and Jaskier were just getting back in from checking on the horses.

“So I see you changed your mind about your Child Surprise.” You spoke. Your voice reverberated off of the walls.

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Cintra was overtaken by Nilfgard. She has no one.”

“Well, now she has us.” You took a seat on a bench but kept your back to the table. Geralt and Jaskier sat the same way, with their backs to the table just across from you.

A door across the room creaked as it was opened. Being that the door was behind you, you had to turn your head and your upper half to be able to see Vesemir.

“Where’s Ciri?” Geralt asked him.

“Left her in the library. She seemed rather interested in an old beastiary.” Vesemir poured himself a mug of ale.

“To think we have a princess here in the walls of Kaer Morhen.” You shook your head, finishing off the last bit of your drink. “This winter is going to be an interesting one.”

“She isn’t the first princess here.” Geralt said. Your eyes met his briefly before you looked away.

“What does that mean?” Jaskier looked to Geralt for an explanation.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter.” Vesemir took a seat next to you. “All that matters is we don’t try to kill each other this winter.”

“Lambert is at the very top of my list.” You told him. “The first chance I get, I’m going to suffocate him in his sleep.”

“Y/N.” Vesemir scolded.

“Where do you hail from, Y/N?” Jaskier asked you.

“Ard Carraigh, though that was more than a lifetime ago.” You looked down at your empty tankard.

The sound of the horses out in the stables made you turn your head towards the door. You furrowed your brows, unsure of what had them stirring.

“Something’s bothering the horses.” Geralt grunted.

“I will go see to it.” Vesemir sighed as he stood to his feet.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” You asked him.

“No need. I don’t think it’s that much of a concern.”

You watched the old witcher leave through the heavy front door.

“I should go check on Ciri.” Geralt thought out loud.

“There can’t be too much she’d get into trouble with.” You said. “Nothing up there other than rats the size of a foal.”

“You’d be surprised with Ciri. She can find trouble out of thin air.” He stood up. “Don’t stir up any trouble while I’m gone, Jaskier.”

“You have too little faith in me, Geralt!”

The White Wolf rolled his eyes but said nothing as he walked away. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through a door that led to the rest of the keep.

“How long have you….” Jaskier trailed off, unsure of the right words to use. “Have you been a witcher long?”

“Are you asking my age, bard?”

“No, no! I’d never ask a lady such a thing.” He chuckled nervously. “I assume that if you have been a witcher for very long, I would have known about you. Or heard about you at some point in time.”

You stood up and moved seats, choosing instead to sit beside the bard. He shifted in his seat, clearly nervous by your sudden close presence.

“It’s been decades since I came here to Kaer Morhen.” You looked upwards to the high ceilings. “Before the sacking.”

”What was it like? Before the- Before the sacking?” Jaskier turned his head to you. He admired your side profile, blue eyes mapping out your facial features. The curve of your nose down to the shape of your lips.

Your attention was shifted to him. It was then that you noticed he was practically staring at your lips. You smiled a little, causing him to look up at your eyes. His cheeks turned pink and he chuckled nervously.

”My-My apologizes.”

”It was nothing grand.” You answered his question as you rose to your feet. “I need more drink. Would you like to come with me?”

”Yes.” Jaskier answered a little too quickly.

He followed behind you like a puppy. You looked over your shoulder to him, the twinkle in your eyes making his heart race. Gods, you were a beauty.

You pushed the door to the kitchen open but before Jaskier could follow you inside, Lambert and Coen were coming out.

“What are you doing, barker?” Coen asked.

“Just— I was just—,”

”Leave him alone, Coen.” You called from just inside the kitchen. Jaskier couldn’t see you because of the wall the two large witchers were forming, blocking you from him.

The boys laughed, their boisterous voices echoing throughout the room. Lambert clapped his hand down on Jaskier’s shoulder as they passed him. Jaskier was just a little confused.

”They are, uh, quite the pair, aren’t they?”

”A pair of jackasses is what they are.” You shook your head.

“Big brothers are like that. I have four.”

”Sounds horrendous.” You poured a second mug of ale and passed it to the bard. “Do you have any other siblings?”

”An older sister and a younger sister.”

”Seven children?” You raised your brows as you leaned against the wooden counter. “Yikes.”

”Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. He leaned against the counter beside you. “Always had a big family.”

”I was one of the last witchers to ever be made, so I suppose I’ve only ever had older brothers.” You took a sip of the ale. ”Couldn’t imagine it any other way. They irritate the piss out of me, but they’re my brothers.”

”They are good men.” Jaskier nodded. “Albeit, annoying. But good men.”

You found yourself gaze at the barker. He was stunning. Warm skin, dark curly hair, even darker eyelashes, and bright icy blue eyes that contrasted his features so nicely. He was a pleasure to gaze at.

The door to the kitchen opened and there stood Geralt.

Jaskier hurried to move, taking a step to the side to put space between himself and you.

“Ah, Geralt!”

The White Wolf offered a low grumble before he looked to you.

”Eskel is home. He doesn’t look good.”

“Is he okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows together. Your drink as discarded on the counter as you hurried to leave the kitchen.

”Vesemir has him in the infirmary.”

You slipped past the witcher and hurried away.

Geralt waited until your footsteps had disappeared down the staircase. Then he turned his attention to Jaskier. He crossed his arms over his chest, appearing even more intimidating than usual.

“Oh, come on, Geralt! Don’t look at me like that!”

”Y/N is—,”

”She is your sister! And you, you are my closest friend!” Jaskier moved to stand in front of Geralt. He placed his hands on Geralt’s biceps and attempted to shake the man but Geralt didn’t budge. “I wouldn’t dream of ever crossing you like that—,”

”Jaskier.” Geralt almost rolled his eyes. ”Get your hands off of me.”

”She is rather friendly though.” Jaskier clasped his hands behind his back as he slipped around the stocky witcher to leave the kitchen. “Very chatty too. Unlike you, you cranky old man.”

Geralt turned around to watch his friend as he started to walk away.

“Jaskier.”

”Yes, Geralt?” Jaskier turned on his toes to face him.

”Just be careful.”

The bard didn’t know what to expect, but that wasn’t it. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side just a bit.

“Uh, o-okay, Geralt.”

#Jaskier x reader #the witcher #witcher 3 #geralt of rivia #Jaskier x witcher #Jaskier fic

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 11

Geralt looked out the window at the still falling snow in the presunrise hours. The colors seemed more beautiful today than he ever remembered. He heard Naurel start to move and went to her. Sitting beside her on the bed he leaned in for a soft kiss. “How do you feel?” The new lovers had spent the rest of the day and the entire night in his room exploring each other.

She stretched and smiled up at him, eyes still sleepy. “Wonderful.”

“Not sore? I didn’t hurt you did I?” His strength always concerned him when touching humans but especially with her because he’d lost himself in the pleasure a few times.

“Sore in some places but nothing bad.” Running her hand over his arm, “Stop worrying love. You didn’t hurt me, I promise.” He relaxed a bit and she sat up pressing another kiss to his mouth. “Are you ok? You’re up early.”

“Aye, perfect,” he smiled. “As much as I would love to stay up here for a month you need food and water to replenish and we should give your body some time to rest.”

She pouted at him but the grumbling in her stomach made her realize he was right, as usual. “Fine, if we have to.” She got up and started getting dressed still blushing softly as he watched her.

Down in the dining hall, a few of the witchers were already having their breakfast when they arrived. Geralt got their food and led her to a table where Ciri, Coen, Jaskier, and Lambert set. Once they were seated she suddenly became nervous. They, well she, hadn’t been very quiet last night. What If they heard her? Geralt placed his hand on her thigh having picked up on her increased heart rate and she wrapped her own arm around his bigger one almost hugging it to her. She picked at her porridge, thankful when a conversation started.

“What’s the training agenda for today?” Geralt asked Ciri.

“Lambert said something about a training platform for witchers,” she answered proudly.

Lambert had the good sense to sort of cringe knowing that Geralt would likely not approve. “I just thought it would be a good way to learn some defense. If you think it’s a bad idea we can do something else.”

Ciri’s huff didn’t go unnoticed but Geralt acted like he didn’t hear her. “She’s chosen you and Coen to do her training. I won’t get in the way of that. Naurel and I will be practicing today.” He looked down the table at Ciri, “Please be careful. The course is made for a witcher who’s more advanced in their training. When they fall and break a limb or split their skull we can put them in the laboratory and give them elixirs to heal them. You do not have that ability.”

“Gonna practice with the straw people again?” Lambert teased Naurel.

“Probably,” she nodded. “I’m sure it’s sort of like practicing with you though, the straw just doesn't talk back and crack stupid jokes.”

Coen spits his water across the table laughing. “Good one!”

Naurel reached over and shook his hand with a huge grin on her face. “Thank you.” Having started to relax a bit more she loosened the death grip she had no Geralt’s arm some and started eating. “What are you doing up so early Jaskier? You usually sleep till midday.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he eyed her.

“Oh no, are you still hurting?” she asked, concerned for her friend.

“A bit but that’s not why I couldn’t sleep.”

“The cold?” Geralt asked as he took a bite of bread.

“My room is next to yours and you,” he looked at Naurel, “Are not quiet my dear. And you,” he pointed at Geralt, “How do you go so long?!” Ciri started giggling and the other witchers joined in teasing them and moaning mockingly.

Naurel’s face flamed red as she buried her face against Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt however just laughed good-naturedly at their friends. He’d intended for them to all know that she belonged to him. Last night left no doubt. After a few minutes of teasing Vesemir and Eskel came in. He’d heard them teasing the pair and was laughing too. “Enough,” he rumbled. “You’re just jealous because your brother is making those noises with his girl and not by himself.”

Geralt gave a grateful look to the old witcher before lifting Naurel’s head off his shoulder and kissing her softly. It wasn’t lost on him the Eskel went to an empty table and didn’t join them. She finally spoke again to ask Vesemir a question. “What is the cooking schedule here?”

“Each person takes a day cooking all three meals,” he told her.

“I would like a turn if that’s agreeable. I feel like I need to be contributing in some way.”

“Yes! Of course! Please! It has to be better than Lambert’s” Came several replies from all the witchers. She laughed.

“You don’t have to but If you want to, it would be most welcome,” Vesemir told her.

“I’d love to,” she beamed. “Someone let me know when it’s my turn.”

“Tomorrow,” they all said in unison. She laughed and continued talking before heading out to work on her sword training.

 

It was getting late in the afternoon when Geralt saw Lambert and Coen approaching with a bloody, frustrated Ciri in tow. They all sat near him watching Naurel hit the straw dummy. He looked over at Ciri, “Going to survive?”

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” she frowned as she rolled her shoulder. Stupid human body and its human limitations.

“You beat the strawman yet?” Lambert teased Naurel.

“Why don’t you spar with her and find out?” Geralt suggested.

Naurel and Lambert said “Huh?” at the same time.

“Spar with her, not you?” Lambert verified.

“Yes, I will coach her, nothing more,” Geralt nodded.

“Come on little girl,” Lambert said excitedly, grabbing his sword.

Naurel was looking at Geralt like he had grown another head as he approached her. “He’s going to kill me!” she whispered.

“Do you trust me?”

“Do you have to ask?”

“Start out with the blocking moves I showed you. When I want you to switch to offensive strikes I will call them out.” He kissed her head, “You can do this.”

“Yea,” she shook her head no at the same time causing him to chuckle. “Just remember if he kills me we can not do a repeat of last night witcher.” All of them laughed, damn witcher hearing.

Naurel did everything exactly how Geralt had shown her and made her practice on the dummy a thousand times and to her surprise, she managed to block all of his attacks. He’d been easy at first but by the end, there was some force behind his blows. “Strikes,” Geralt called out. “Keep your form, your arms are dropping.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel roared and launched an attack.

Geralt shoved Naurel to the ground away from them so that she wasn’t hit. Both men landed punches and kicks hard enough to draw blood instantly. Witchers fighting was scary to watch especially when you were in love with one of them. She felt the tears spilling down her face as Ciri ran to her and helped her to her feet.

The other witchers finally got the two separated after several attempts. Coen noticed that Eskel’s eyes were black indicating he’d taken an elixer before coming outside. He’d planned this attack. Distracted by his thoughts Eskel was able to shake free and storm Geralt again whose arms were still being restrained. No one had time to react as Eskel kicked Geralt as hard as he could between the legs with his elixir enhanced strength. Everyone let Geralt go and tackled Eskel to the ground. Geralt fell forward, curled over unable to catch his breath, and finally threw up in the snow.

Naurel and Ciri ran to him trying to help him however they could. Naurel grabbed a handful of clean snow and wiped his face and neck until he was able to catch his breath. She had to balance herself when he leaned all his weight on her pressing her face against her neck. “Shhh, love try to breathe,” she encouraged rubbing his back.

At this point, Vesemir had come out and ordered them to take Eskel to the dining hall before kneeling beside Geralt. “Wolf,” he placed his hand on his back feeling how hard he was still trembling. “We need to get you inside so I can tend to you. It’s going to hurt when we stand you up but it has to be done.

Geralt nodded because he couldn’t speak and felt strong arms around him lifting him up. He was sure his balls had ruptured, it felt like they had been hit was an anvil. Unable to hide the grimace as he was moved he griped Vesemir and Coen’s shoulders in a bruising grip. He was grateful that they went no farther than the dining hall because he didn’t think he could have stood much more even letting out a whimper when he was lowered down on some furs that had been placed near the fire.

Jaskier moved Ciri out of the line of sight to give Geralt some privacy as they laid his head in Naurel’s lap and stripped him. He had to be restrained while he was examined for damage but thankful after a few potions and elixirs he was no longer fighting them. Naurel dipped a cloth in a bowl of water and wiped his sweaty brow and face unable to do anything else to help while Vesemir and Coen worked. Once Geralt was treated and covered with a blanket Vesemir said something to him that was too soft for Naurel to hear before standing. Geralt turned with a pained grunt and wrapped his arms around Naurel’s waist hugging her as he rested his head on her.

Vesemir was livid when he stormed across the room to Eskel. The yelling echoed through the room like screams off a mountainside but Naurel didn’t think Eskel looked repentant at all. She smiled as Ciri came and curled against her side close to Geralt and ran her fingers through his hair offering comfort the only way she knew how as well. The yelling went on for over an hour before Eskel was sent to his room for the night because Vesemir was too angry not to hurt him during punishment at the moment. Eventually, everyone scattered about talking softly or going to their rooms. Thankfully Geralt had calmed enough to meditate and help his healing.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

@mollymal

@secretdreamlandmentality

@salvawhxres 

@dizzybee03

#geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt z rivii #geralt of rivia #witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #the witcher #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction

[inexplicifics]

💛 for either Geraskier or Eskel/Geralt?

Each year, Eskel trudges up the long steep trail to Kaer Morhen. Some years, there is a heavily-laden horse at his heels; some years, he carries his own packs and drags a dog-cart of supplies. Some years it’s snowing; other years, the fallen leaves are slick and treacherous beneath his boots. Some years he is so weary and gaunt that the Trail nearly defeats him. Some years he has the strength to help a weaker brother along the way.

Each year thus far, he’s made it to the top, to the great iron-bound gates and the roughly cobbled courtyard of the keep. Each year, he stables his horse if he has one and brings his supplies down to the cellars, empties the filthy clothing from his pack into the big communal laundry baskets and sets the alchemical supplies he’s brought neatly onto the shelves of the storage room near the labs. Each year, he draws himself a bath in the low-ceilinged, damp cavern down beneath the kitchen, and dumps Igni-warmed water over his head until it runs clear before he sits down in the tub and soaks his aches away. Each year, he ladles himself a bowl of stew from the pot kept always boiling at the back of the hearth, and eats his fill. Each year, he makes his slow way up the winding stairs to the familiar furs of his bed, and collapses into it with immense relief.

And it’s good, always, to be clean and well-fed and safe and comfortable, to know that for a few months he will not have to worry about where his next meal will come from or whether the next contract will be his death.

But it’s not home, not yet.

Not until Geralt comes slogging up the Trail - he always comes back late, after everyone else has already been back in the keep for days - and through the creaky ancient gates. Not until Geralt’s much-mended clothing is in the hamper waiting for whichever poor bastard has laundry duty that week. Not until Geralt has eaten a bowl or three of stew, enough to put a little color in his cheeks.

Not until Geralt is safe in the big bed they share, nestled down in the furs and blankets with Eskel stretched out on top of him, his arms wound around Eskel’s shoulders and his lips chapped and thin and perfect under Eskel’s own.

Then, and only then, is Eskel home.

(Or here on AO3!)

#questions answered #ask meme #heart asks #geskel #snippet

[thesleepy1]

Bun(s) In The Oven

A/N: What am I doing instead of sleeping? A) Working, B) Writing. or C) Waking Lord Cthulhu from his slumber so that he may reclaim the throne. If you guessed B, then you’d be correct! Hahaha, I really do need sleep. And they call me the Sleepy One! Anon Requested. (Also, I haven’t had the time to sit down and watch season three yet, so please no spoilers.) 

Pairings: Eskel x Reader 

Summary: You were supposed to have nine months to prepare. You were counting on those nine months. You were not a procrastinator by any means, but with something as important as having a baby you were going to make good use of all the available time to prepare for the arrival of your new baby. Nine months. Not six. 

Or, “Could you write something for eskel when his significant other is in labour. I don’t know if he’d be chill and prepared or in total panic mode. Either wait I’d like to read it 😂

Word count: 930

Warnings: birth? 

At six months pregnant you were past the point of still coming up with names for your little one and were well into the process of setting up the nursery. In the beginning, there was fear that the baby would not survive. Miscarriages were common in the village you grew up in and a human pregnant with a witcher baby was unprecedented. Anyone pregnant with a witcher baby was unheard of. There was no way of knowing what to expect.

When you and Eskel had first learned of the little seed that was sprouting in you, you both laughed it off as some practical joke. It wasn’t until months later that you realized there was something going on. The bump proved that there wasn’t some prank being played on you. You were well and truly pregnant. 

First there was denial. That was to be expected. 

Then came the acceptance. 

After that it was just full blown panic. 

You were a bard for heaven’s sake. A baby was not on your bucket list. When you had first met Eskel and decided to tag along on his adventures, you did not realize that having a baby along the way was a part of it. 

But after that…? 

It was quite nice. 

Sure it was unexpected and neither you nor Eskel had planned for it, but it really wasn’t a bad thing. The pregnancy didn’t stop you from doing what you loved. You still performed and sang to your heart's content. In some taverns you even made more coin. Some were from concerned onlookers and some were from others who got off at the sight of you. Either way, money was money. 

And Eskel. Dear sweet Eskel. He grew to love you even more than before if that was possible. It was no worry of yours that Eskel didn’t truly love you. He showed it to you each and every day. But after the two of you had gotten over your panic, he became the most doting and kind and loving witcher possible. It could have been sickening if you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it. 

So yes. You were past the point of panic and name searching. With something around thirteen more weeks to go, you were still working on adding things to the nursery. Most of the essentials were there already. Now was just time to decorate and fill the room with as many toys as you possibly can.  No one was going to stop you, least of all Eskel. 

If anyone were looking for the two of you, then they could find you in the nursery happily sewing up another stuffed animal or embroidering yet another piece of  clothing. Eskel could be found doing the same. Despite his large frame, he had such a talent for needle work. 

You were working on turning shorn wool into wool when you suddenly felt a wetness burst from you followed by intense pain. Before you realized what was going on with your body Eskel leapt up from his seat. 

“I need to get a healer,” Eskel announced, his breaths coming in unevenly. “I can’t leave you here alone—someone needs to get the healer. Lambert! Geralt!” 

That was another thing. Eskel’s brothers were there every step of the way. And they were going to be there for this step too, despite its premature timing. 

“Are you sure? I—we still have weeks, don’t we?” you asked him, face grimacing in pain despite your disbelief. “We-we haven’t finished processing the food for stores or-or finished all the clothes—” You were cut off by an unbearable pain flaring from within. “Dear gods, heavens above. The little one is coming. The little one is coming!” 

“Geralt! Lambert! Vesemir!” Eskel called out to his brothers. His voice boomed in the hallways, sounds bouncing off the stone hallways and carrying towards the other witchers in the keep. Before long, they came running to your aide. 

“Healers. We need to go find a healer.” Eskel was firm. He left no room for argument. Lambert rushed out back the way he came. He was the smallest and fastest of the witchers. He would reach the town at the bottom of the mountain first and hurry back with a healer or two. Eskel had to believe that his brother would. 

“Geralt,” Eskel began.

“Anything you need,” Geralt replied. 

What happened next was beyond you. The pain was indescribable. You knew that you would not remember much of the process. At least, that was what the other mothers had told you. They said that the mind would forget so the body continued.

However, right there and then you were unbearably hurt. And you were vocal about it. 

“Great saints above! Get—” you were screaming. It stung the witcher’s ears but you didn’t have a spare thought to care. “Get them out of me!” 

“T-them?”

It was Geralt who faltered at that.

Years later you would all sit around a table topped with a hearty meal. Roasted elk, mashed sweet potatoes, and mead would be overflowing. Altina and Anna would be given cider that had not ripen into the sort that would make them dizzy and drunk. Everyone would laugh at the way that Geralt had stuttered at the prospect of two. 

Eskel would laugh the loudest. For he was the proudest of the fact. He was a father of two beautiful, healthy girls and he couldn’t be happier. 

No one will bring up the fact that Eskel had almost fainted when Anna's head was crowning and the healer was still twenty minutes away.

#the witcher #eskel #witcher #witcher fanfiction #witcher eskel #the witcher 3 #geralt #geralt of rivia #eskel x reader #vesemir #witcher lambert #eskelwolf #the witcher netflix #baby witchers #netflix the witcher #the witcher books #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher games #witcher books #witcher games #witcher geralt #witcher netflix #witcher 3 #bard in kaer morhen #papa vesemir

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 21

This past winter, Geralt grabbed a tower of books from the library and holed himself up in his room for practically the entire season. Eskel walks in one night, intent on just checking in on his brother, only to poke around and find that every book that Geralt is painstakingly studying is medical books, from how to deal with a sore throat to the most rarest of diseases. Eskel asks Geralt why he needs to know all of this, worried Geralt might be losing his mutagen-induced healing factor?! Is he getting sick!? Are his wounds not healing over time!? Oh GODS! Oh nvm- Geralt says he's fine :) He's reading all of this because... He met a human bard he wants to keep safe? Odd... Especially for Geralt... But whatever makes his brother happy! I just want a scene after some nice gay brotherly teasing that's like "Ow- Oh no.. Geralt, my arm was scratched by a branch. Hold on, I need to-" And geralt is like FROTHING and is like "WE NEED BANDAGES, THREAD, A NEEDLE, DISINFECTANT, NUMBING SOLUTION, AND I KNOW FOURTEEN DIFFERENT NATURALLY MADE POULTICES I CAN MAKE, AND I KNOW A HELPFUL SPELL A HEDGEWITCH CAN CAST AND-" "It's just a scratch, Gera-" "SHIT, SIT DOWN, I GOTTA FIX MY HUMAN BEFORE HE DIES AND I LOSE ONE OF THE ONLY GOOD THINGS IN MY LIFE"

#fanfiction prompts #geralt x dandelion #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #witcher fanfiction #the witcher #geralt loves his bard! #writing prompts #requited unrequited love #friends to lovers #Worried Geralt #protective geralt #good husband geralt #I STAYED UP REALLY LATE READING FANFIC SORRY IF THIS IS SHIT #Also my best friend randomly found this account (i told him about it without any censorship and made no attempt to hide it at all) #so everyone say hi to him #yeah thats right #i see you there you gay fuck #I KNOW YOURE HERE #READING THIS SHIT #HOW ABOUT YOU ANSWER MY TEXTS AND PLAY BALDURS GATE WITH ME ALREADY? #gonna eat some bagels and pass teh fuck out #its 430 am and usually yk i am chilling lik ea villain at tis tme of night but tonight i am the very tired gorl #gorl (?) #i am a “gorl” but deep down #I am a ball of gas with thousands of eyes and wings that makes a low ominous humming noise and vultures follow #i am LOOKING at you with my EYES #I just think geralt could love his bard a little and his bard could find it sweet (and maybe a little exasperating)

[shy-urban-hobbit]

9. "Did you two..." "Kiss? Depends on what you call a kiss. Personally, being body-slammed into a wall then violently made out with isn't a kiss." with a pairing of your choice pleaseee! and what would it take for it to be a real kiss for them?

Modern au. Drunk Lambert does not make good decisions. C/W for medicinal drug use.

Lambert woke up feeling like something had died in his mouth while its little friends were busy burrowing through his skull and using his brain as a trampoline.

He cursed as he pulled himself upright, the smell of bacon coming from downstairs making him feel both hungry and nauseous as he realised he was still in last night’s jeans and t-shirt. What the hell had he gotten up to?

His head hurt even more as he tried to remember. He had vague recollections of someone’s lips on his, another tongue in his mouth, another body pressed against his and pulling him closer in some dark corner of the club – all the evidence was suggesting he hadn’t bought them home with him this time though (he was never one for getting down and dirty in alleyways or club bathrooms). He shrugged internally, at least he apparently still got some action last night, even if it was just a bit of necking.

Lambert heard Geralt snoring away in the guest room before he staggered past a blanket covered lump on the couch that could only be a still sleeping Eskel and into the kitchen to find his housemate and best friend (and secret crush), Aiden sat at the wobbly table, sweater hood pulled up and looking about as miserable as Lambert felt. Jaskier, his brother Geralt’s occasional fuck buddy, was dancing and singing at the stove, covered in hickies and looking fresh as a daisy as he tried to avoid the grease the bacon was spitting at him from the pan (Lambert wanted to know exactly who the other man had sold his soul to that he never got hangovers. He suspected Yenn).

“Good morning, Lovely!” Jaskier called out, “Fresh bacon’s almost done and there’s coffee in the pot.

Lambert grunted his thanks as he filled a mug and took his usual spot next to Aiden, rather than give him the usual conspiratorial grin and eye roll over Jaskier’s antics, the other pointedly looked away, stabbing and playing with the remains of his own breakfast on the plate in front of him.

Lambert tried to chalk it up to Aiden just feeling shit too – whether through over indulging the previous night or from his old head injury acting up again - but after the third attempt at trying to engage him in conversation it was starting to become crystal clear the other was ignoring him.

“It’s a shame you left early, Aiden. You missed out on the hilarity that was Eskel trying to chat up a cardboard cut-out.” Jaskier sighed, sliding a plate of bacon in front of Lambert as he took one of the free seats, resting his coffee on a bent knee, “Speaking of though. Correct me if I’m wrong but,” He got that look on his face he always wore when he sensed good gossip and waved a finger between the two of them, “Did you two…”

“Kiss? Depends on what you call a kiss. Personally, being body-slammed into a wall then violently made out with isn’t a kiss.”

Aiden got up from the table while Lambert choked on his bacon. Fuck, no wonder Aiden was giving him the cold shoulder this morning! But wait…Aiden had reciprocated, right (Lambert would be wearing the evidence on his face if he’d overstepped. He’d personally cheered over witnessing Aiden break the nose of more than one creep). So why exactly was he mad?

He threw a confused look at Jaskier, who wisely took a large gulp of coffee and said nothing.

He found Aiden outside in the yard, hood still up against the light rain and the dregs of a joint in hand as he stared at nothing in particular. Lambert hadn’t been completely off about the head injury then - the result of a serious case of mistaken identity years ago.

“Look, I get it if you’re mad about last night-”

“I’m not mad, Lambert.” Aiden sighed, the first words he’d spoken to him all morning, “Right now, I’m feeling kind of sorry for your past hookups. That wasn’t a kiss, that was a mauling.”

“Well, I’ve never had any complaints before.”

“Well, maybe I just have higher standards than your usual Jonny Six-Shots.”

“Didn’t stop you from sticking your tongue in my mouth.” Lambert snapped, too hungover for whatever game this was, “So what the fuck do you call a kiss then if you’re such a god damn connoisseur?” Aiden’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as he avoided his eye, “No, no. Why so silent suddenly? C’mon. Show me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Fucking charming.”

“I don’t want to, because I like you too much.” Aiden told his shoes.

Now it was Lambert’s turn to fall silent.

Aiden gave a sad smile as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I thought last night when you kissed me, maybe you...but then I realised how drunk you were and for Christ’s sake, you’ve thrown yourself at Jaskier before he and Geralt were a thing when you’ve had too much.”

“Jaskier was a one time thing, and a mistake.”

“Exactly.” Aiden arms had migrated so they were now wrapped around his torso in a semblance of a hug as he looked up at Lambert, “So was the guy before him, and the guy before him. I’m not going to be considered another mistake, nor do I want to be kissing you just to prove a point. And you’re an asshole if you decide to push that now you know how I feel.”

Lambert felt like he’d just taken a sucker punch to the chest as all the air left his body.

“Aiden, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine. Forget it, I’ll get over it. I’m going back to bed, migraine. Say bye to the others for me when they leave.”

“Its fine. Forget it.”

Except it wasn’t and Lambert couldn’t. He stayed glued to the armchair he’d been sat in since his brothers had left mid afternoon, not caring that it was now growing dark. He was more concerned with this morning’s little revelation. Since when had Aiden liked him too??

His stomach rumbling gave him an idea and he reheated and plated up some leftovers for Aiden. The movement from his room let Lambert know that he hadn’t been asleep for a few hours now but still felt like he needed to avoid him. That was fine (it wasn’t) but pesky emotions aside, he still needed to eat. Maybe Lambert could say what he wanted before Aiden slammed the door in his face, assuming he’d open the door in the first place.

A shirtless Aiden opened his door before Lambert had even raised a hand to knock, jerking in surprise as he dropped his armful of clean pajamas and almost upending Lambert’s offering of yesterday’s Chinese food.

“I was just going to grab a shower.” He mumbled to the empty space over Lambert’s shoulder.

“Can we talk first, please?” Lambert held the plate up slightly higher, “I bought noodles?” it had the desired effect and Aiden made a little noise through his nose that may have been a laugh before stepping aside and letting Lambert in. He hovered awkwardly, despite having been in the others space too many times to count it suddenly felt like there unspoken rules about where he couldn’t sit, what he couldn’t touch. He settled on placing the plate on Aiden’s desk before turning to face him. It didn’t escape his notice that Aiden was still stood by the open door.

“I can go if I’m making you uncomfortable”.

“No it, it’s fine. What did you want to talk about?”

As if that wasn’t glaringly obvious, but it looked like Aiden was treading water here too. Fuck it, if this went wrong they’d drown together at least.

“You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say. Out in the yard.”

Aiden suddenly looked wary, “Lambert-”

“Aiden, please. You said we could talk so, let me talk?”

Aiden nodded but he didn’t look the least bit happy about it.

“I was going to say, I didn’t know you felt like that. About me, and...I like you too much too.”

Aiden made a noise like he’d been hit, “Please don’t joke about that, or just tell me what you think I want to hear.”

“I’m really not. I’ve liked you since we were out celebrating your twenty first and you beat the shit out of that guy twice your size. I thought it was a passing thing and it would go ‘cos that was hot as fuck but. It didn’t.”

Aiden moved further into the room, “Lambert, that was six years ago.”

Lambert threw him a ‘no shit’ look, “I’m aware. Believe me. All those guys at bars, they were great at the time but they were always going to be mistakes come morning because they weren’t you. And then I totally had to go and balls it up by making you feel like...you know.”

He glanced away, taking a moment to concentrate on the colours of one of Aiden’s random knick-knacks before continuing, “But now. I’m sober, I know how you feel, and I would really like to know what you consider a kiss. A proper one.”

“I mean, you’re halfway there already.” Aiden remarked, coming even closer.

“And the other half?”

As Aiden pressed their mouths together Lambert decided he was totally Justified in his ‘mauling’ verdict earlier. He didn’t think he’d had a kiss this chaste since he was a teenager still figuring stuff out but that didn’t take away from the intensity. Hands stayed firmly around waists rather than wandering over backs and groping asses, when Aiden finally deepened it there was no biting teeth or aggressive tongues, only languid strokes as they played rather than chased.

Chaste or not, the need to breathe was still an issue and they parted slowly, breathing only slightly heavier than normal rather than the heaving chests Lambert had come to expect.

“I still need to take that shower.” Aiden muttered, Lambert nodding dumbly as the other stepped away, “Want to join me?”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. He was very much already looking forward to more of Aiden’s interpretation of a kiss.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #aiden x lambert #aiden/lambert #lambden #lambert x aiden #lambert/aiden #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert