perfecttimemachinestranger - Tumblr blog

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Eskel

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Eskel based on a scene from my and @roguesandrevelersinc's fan fic: In the Palm of Your Hand. (Eskel is a unit and can carry a wyvern when on potions and you can't change my mind.) I drew this almost a year ago when I wrote Eskel in that scene.

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rugged ol' witcher

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Today marks 9 years since The Witcher 3 release! I can't count how many times I've replayed it. This game is a very important part of my artistic journey, because it has inspired me to try painting landscapes, and now I can't stop :)

✨ prints (if you want to decorate your room with these) and patreon (if you want to get high res desktop & mobile wallpapers)

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Vampire from The Witcher 🌿

The picture is not the newest, but this is literally the character that I can’t help but show because I’m not sure I want to be him or I want to be with him

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Final versions! (I made two, slightly different with light and dark backgrounds.)

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How I see Geralt in the books 

(Artbreeder posts here and here)

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From sketch to a colorful result (will be uploaded a little later)

for vortexoffate ❤

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Emhyr likes stormy weather.

Geralt promised himself, after retirement he'd never be cold and wet again.

But Emhyr likes stormy weather, and Geralt cannot bear the thought of his husband out in the storm alone.

So Geralt became a liar.

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Return to Kaer Morhen

I’m playing The Witcher (the first game!) on PC for the first time and I’m able to make my own screenshots for the first time and I spent way too long in the Prologue trying to get a nice shot of Geralt looking out the window in Kaer Morhen at night so that I could draw it…

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Rare pic of Death Star (human form) shipping Tarkrennic (2 of their papas), date unknown.

reference ↓

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I love the trophy-taking cutscene, but this must have happened at least once, esp. with new gloves.

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For the kiss prompt.

19 ... for luck for Damien and Eskel pls

🥺

They stand on the edge of the tourney field, Damien decked out in full armour, sword at his side.

It's been five long years since he last did this, five years and a lot of changes, a lot of relearning his body, how to fight. It'll probably be his last year fighting anyway, would be even if he hadn't taken such a long hiatus. He's got no desire to be one of those older knights still trying to relive his heyday in the ring. He probably wouldn't have even entered this year if it hadn't been held in his honour.

"Don't fidget," Eskel taps his finger against his breastplate as he adjusts a strap. "You've nothing to worry about."

"I'd rather not make a complete fool of myself though."

"You won't. You've been training with us, never mind what these fancy boys can do." Eskel leans against him. "You're a warrior, no one is going to doubt that. You've got nothing to prove."

He had a point, as ever. But even after four years, Eskel refuses to play the politics of Toussaint, refuses to acknowledge the precarious position Damien holds . If he makes a poor showing of himself today, his position at court is at risk, and with that, his family.

Not that Eskel would allow anything to happen to them.

"You'll be fine," Eskel tells him, and he nods, steeling himself.

"A kiss for luck though?" He asks with a smirk.

"Always." And Eskel pulls him closer, not a polite, courtly peck on the cheek, but a full mouthed kiss that promises... a lot. It's the kind of kiss Damien could get lost in, but Eskel ends it with a sigh, and a proper kiss on the cheek. "Go show them what they've missed the last few years."

Damien raises his sword in salute and steps back, towards the ring.

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6 Fanarts - #6 Eskel

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A young, horny Lambert sets his sights on an older hunk of Witcher beef. CW: age gap, flirtation.

"I'm going for it."

"Lambert, don't be a fucking idiot. They'll laugh at you."

"They might, but he won't. You miss all the chances you don't take, right?"

"Your funeral."

Lambert licked his lips and smoothed his hair back as he stood. He hadn't torn his eyes away from his mark for a single second since said man had swaggered into the hall a few hours before. This was the winter he'd do it. He was a man himself now, which meant he had every chance of bagging himself the hunk of good-lookin' he'd been coveting from the moment his dick had started getting hard at night and hair had appeared on his jaw.

Eskel.

It wasn't just that Eskel had two decades on Lambert or that he was becoming a seasoned witcher. No other Witcher in the keep compared. Sure, some tried. They might step toe to toe during drills or try to outflame Eskel's igni, but they never could. The only one that outmatched Eskel was his pale shadow, Geralt. They even looked a little similar. But cream puff was a fucking bean pole of a man, and that shitty headband...

N'aw, Lambert wanted big. He wanted heat, and honey eyes, and that thatch of dark hair he'd seen on Eskel's barrelled chest in the baths, and that huge fucking d--

"You lost, Lambert?"

Lambert blinked. Gweld, the ginger prick, was frowning at him, ale tankard halfway up to his mouth. The others had paused their card game; Clovis looked drunk, Geralt was slouched back trying to see Clovis' hand and Eskel was watching Lambert speculatively.

Watching, with those honey-coloured eyes that turned Lambert inside out. The words caught in Lambert's throat; shit, fuck, why was he so fuckin' stupid the moment Eskel looked at him?

He took a breath, conscious of Clovis elbowing Gweld with a chuckle, while Geralt looked over with a smirk.

Lambert found his words. He folded his arms, thrust his chest out, widened his stance and put on his best cocky smirk. "Was just wonderin' whether Eskel wanted some better company. You losers can't handle your beer at the best of times."

They laughed. Gweld elbowed Eskel who cocked a half smile, eyes rolling not at Lambert, but his friends, proving Lambert's point. Obviously.

"Is that right?" Geralt asked, amusement turning his narrow face bright with a toothy grin. Lambert had been told that as witchers matured they honed their sense of smell, could identify a man's emotions from his body language, the flush in his skin. Lambert knew Geralt had him sussed. "And what kinda company are you offering?"

"Geralt..." Eskel growled in warning, and it went straight to Lambert's groin. Fucking hells.

"Whatever he wants. I'm a man of many talents."

More laughter--"little man has game, shit; fuck, I'm chokin, too funny"--but Lambert wasn't put off. Eskel's eyes were on him, warming him like the sun. The lines around those eyes were wrinkled with mirth, and damn if that smile wasn't snatching the breath right out of Lambert's chest.

"Does your master know you're out?" Eskel asked, placing his cards face down. He leaned back in his chair and slung his elbow onto the back of it, knee turned out while a hand tapped at his drink.

Lambert tried to keep his eyes level and resist the urge to... look. Eskel's codpiece put on an absolutely fucking heroic effort, but it could only hide so much and that was when Eskel was soft. "What he don't know can't hurt him. No business of his who else is in my bed as long as I am."

Eskel pressed his lips together to smother his smile while the others guffawed. More was said but Lambert didn't really hear; he was too focused on keeping his heart from beating out his chest and appearing suave.

Eskel hummed. "Aren't you a little young to be lookin' for that kinda fun?"

"Worried you won't be able to keep up, old man?" Lambert felt momentum. He could do snark, he could meet Eskel on this well worn ground, toe to toe, and the way Eskel's head tilted to the side and his eyebrow rose. It wasn't a no, right? He looked interested. Amused, but he didn't dismiss Lambert outright.

Gweld slapped Eskel on the shoulder with a bark. "Eskel here's got stories that'd make your balls shrivel up into yer belly, lad. I don't think he's a good choice for yer first ride, best drop your ambitions."

"Fuck off, Gweld," Eskel said, but there was no heat to his words. Just wry amusement.

Geralt snorted into his drink and Clovis made a vulgar gesture with his hand, but before Lambert could respond a familiar voice barked through the hall and sucked all the building sexual tension into a vacuum. "Lambert, get your arse to bed, you missed roll call!"

Lambert clenched his teeth, shoulders lifting towards his ears. For fuck's sake...

Three of the witchers in front of him groaned in mock empathy. "Oof, tough break, Lambino. Cock blocked by Vesemir," Gweld said, shaking his head while Geralt and Clovis snickered. "Don't worry, we've all been there. Ain't that right, Gerbear?"

Geralt guffawed in protest and smacked Gweld on the shoulder. It quickly devolved into a wrestling match on the floor, one which Gweld was definitely going to lose. Eskel watched them briefly before he looked back at Lambert. "Another time perhaps," he said, toasting Lambert with his ale. "G'wan, before he decides the target dummies are a little light on straw."

Lambert grunted, frustrated, but stalked away. He'd made inroads, and the way Eskel's eyes had shone, and that crooked grin. Eskel hadn't outright rejected him, hells, he'd--well, that smile... Eskel didn't smile at everyone like that.

Lambert laid in bed with that smile behind his eyes and a hand under the sheets, determined that it would be Eskel's instead of his own by winter's end.

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Day 3 - Path

A bit late, but I made it at least.