#because he thought he would never have a chance with lambert

[koroart]

Fellas — is it gay to realize how beautiful your best friend is while he’s staring at the sunset ? 🤔 ( WIP )

[alt-vera]

— fine tune ⁀➷

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joel miller get’s a call for help from someone unexpected. he check’s out more than her broken down car.

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♡ | joel miller | 2.7k | ❛ fine tune - miranda lambert ❜

warnings: dbf!joel miller. pre-outbreak. drinking and driving. underage drinking (americans). dry humping. oral (m! and f! receiving). throat fucking. fingering. truck/outdoor sex. unprotected piv. established age gap. mdni.

❝ you flipped a switch, hot wired my gears, yeah you put me in line, and now i’m running right ❞

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TWO IN THE MORNING WAS NOT THE IDEAL TIME FOR YOUR CAR TO BREAK DOWN.

　Pulled over on the side of a dirt road, slight hint of booze still coursing through your veins from the party you had just left, you knew you couldn’t call your dad. He’d kill you for even stepping close to your car after drinking, kill you for being out so late, kill you for waking him up in the middle of the night.

　You felt like you were out of options as you pressed your spinning head against the coolness of your steering wheel. Crickets chirped happily in the farm field beside you, unaware of the inner turmoil you were currently going through.

　You were definitely feeling worse than when you left the house party. You knew it was wrong to drink and drive, but it was summertime in the middle of a heatwave, and you were a dumb college kid. Your friend ditched you for a hookup and you had no other way home than your car, or else you’d be stuck sleeping on some random dude’s couch and would either get the wrong kind of attention from someone, or be puked on in the middle of the night.

　So, you took your chances.

　You couldn’t even call a tow truck, because they’d probably get the cops involved if they saw the state you were in. The longer you sat racking your brain, the more the booze soaked in. You were fucked.

　Then, it hit you. There was one person you could call that didn’t have parental dictation over you, and couldn’t give you proper shit for your bad decisions because he’d driven home after a six pack multiple times.

　Your fingers nervously picked at the seams on the leather steering wheel as the line rang. On the third ring, a groggy voice greeted you.

　“Joel?” You slurred. You ignored the taken aback way he said your name as he answered. “Joel, my car broke down. I can’t call my dad—Can you please come give me a jump?”

　Joel sighed on the other end of the line. Usually he’d be woken up by Tommy asking for a bail out of jail, but he never thought that when he’d be answering the phone this late it’d be you calling. In fact, he didn’t even think you had his number saved.

　“Where are you?” He asked gruffly after a beat of silence. You gave him the name of the random country road you were on, and with that he hung up.

　Joel was there within minutes.

　He sped the whole way there, praying no cops were out prowling and looking for someone to bring in to make their night a little bit more interesting.

　He pulled up a few feet behind your car, your figure popping out of the driver door to come meet him. The headlights of his truck shut off as he jumped out, white tee sticking to his biceps in the humid summer air.

　“Joel!” You cried, pace quickening. Your hands latched onto his forearms as he held you upright. “My car died—I think it’s the battery, or the engine, or something—“

　You reeked like alcohol. “Have you been drinking?” He asked.

　You avoided his gaze, eyes wild. “I…”

　You gulped, eyes slowly moving to meet his. “That’s… That’s why i couldn’t call my dad.”

　Your name came out as a sigh between his lips. You shifted more weight into him, “Please, Joel—Can you help me?”

　The neediness in your voice made his thoughts wander, but he mentally reprimanded himself, attempting to focus on the task at hand. He kept a hand on your arm as the two of you walked to your beat up car, opening the hood. Your eyes never left Joel’s face as he examined the contents of your vehicle.

　“Well, we’ll try jumping it,” He said, eyes shifting to you. “If that doesn’t work…”

　He didn’t finish his sentence. You really didn’t want to call a tow truck. College was already eating up your money.

　You trailed behind him as he walked to the bed of his truck, opening the tailgate and reaching for the jumper cables strewn lazily in the very back. Just as he reached for them he paused, instead turning to look at you.

　“You can’t be doing dangerous shit like this,” He said sternly, gaze hard with seriousness.

　Figuring that you were gonna be there for a hot minute, you jumped onto the tailgate, sitting down to rest your body. “Why? You do it all the time.”

　 “I bet you’ve even got a few drinks in your system right now,” You teased.

　“That’s different,” He sighed, hand coming to rub his face in annoyance. “I’m twice your weight and almost twice your age. My four shots is different from your four shots.”

　“Not really,” You shrugged. You leant closer to him, face coming dangerously close to his. “How many fingers am i holding up?”

　His eyes only left yours for a moment to glance at your hand.

　“Two.”

　You playfully rolled your eyes, drunken grin coming to dance along your lips as you pulled away ever-so-slightly. “Whatever, Miller. Just ‘cuz you have good eyes doesn’t mean you’re not half as buzzed as i am. I can still smell the whiskey on your breath; no age, or weight, can change that. And we both know how whiskey clouds your mind.”

　There was one time a few months ago where you had went swimming with Joel at a party your parents were having. He’d been a few whiskeys in, and you’d caught him staring at the way your chest sat perkily in your skimpy bikini top for a bit too long. He’d hopped out of the pool shortly afterwards, tugging at his swim shorts to presumably hide something going on down there. You hadn’t let him live it down since.

　Tired of your teasing, he inched his face closer to yours. His breath was hot against your cheek. “So, what?” He questioned, head cocking slightly and brow raising. “You wanna find out what happens when we’re both a few whiskey’s too deep?”

　You couldn’t hide your grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be jumping my car?”

　“Aren’t you supposed to be helping?” He retaliated.

　Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours.

　“How would your daddy feel about this?” Joel groaned between kisses, moving himself between your spread legs to be closer to you.

　“Who says he needs to know?” You pulled away, wrapping your hands in the white fabric of his tee. “You weren’t going to tell him you came out here tonight to help me, were you?”

　When Joel dodged your gaze and pressed his lips together into a line, your jaw dropped. You let go of his shirt, exclaiming, “Oh my god, you totally were!”

　“Joel Miller, i thought i could trust you! But, no, I guess—“ Your rambling was cut off by Joel’s large hand grabbing the nape of your neck.

　“Just shut up and kiss me.”

　You easily complied, melting into the kiss as his tongue slipped into your mouth. He slipped his hands in the back pockets of your cutoffs, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer until you were flush against him, tits pressing against his chest and cunt pressed against the bulge in his jeans.

　You groaned at the contact, rubbing yourself against him. You felt him smile into the kiss. “Isn’t someone an eager beaver.”

　“Never again say that when we’re making out. Ever.”

　“Again?” He questioned, his brow cocked. “Who says i’ll ever let you kiss me again?”

　“Let me kiss you?” You snorted, “More like let you kiss me. You’re the man in his late-thirties making out with a 20 year old.”

　He rolled his eyes. “Are you this feisty in bed?”

　Your grin turned devilish. “Only one way for you to find out.”

　You grinded against him again, and he let out a raspy groan, hands coming to rest on your hips as he rolled you against him repeatedly, coaxing you to an orgasm without even taking your pants off.

　“Didn’t know you were so talented, Miller,” You mumbled as you caught your breath, and Joel rolled his eyes, sliding your shorts down your shaking legs.

　“You don’t ever shut up, do you?”

　“There’s only two ways to shut me up,” Your teeth shone under the light of the moon as you grinned, “It’s up to you to figure ‘em out.”

　“I can think of one way,” Joel muttered as his fingers rubbed your clit through your panties, chucking them off soon enough and pulling you closer to him on the tailgate, knees lowering onto the coarse dirt of the road. His tongue poked and probed experimentally, finding your clit to kiss and suck on it, his actions being rewarded by gracefully moans leaving your swollen lips.

　“So sweet,” He cooed, and you felt your face flush.

　“God, Joel,” You called out as his fingers moved to enter inside of you while his muscle continued to lap at your clit, “Please, don’t stop—“

　Your pleads were cut off by your walls clenching around Joel’s digits as you came, struggling to stop your hips from bucking up against his face. He let you ride out your high, using him.

　“Well, you found one out,” You sighed, and you heard Joel chuckle.

　“I think i know the other,” He replied as he rose to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a sweet tang mixed with whatever whiskey was still in his system.

　“You should’ve been a detective instead of a contractor, Miller,” You joked, sliding over to pat the worn plastic of the truck box beside you, “Now hop up, old man. I think it’s time you had a bit of fun.”

　He complied, hoisting himself up onto the tailgate beside you and sliding further into the roomy box. He let you lay him down, fingers dancing along his jeans as you nimbly unbuttoned them, pulling them down. You raised his shirt, signalling for him to take it off. Once he did so, you ran your tongue in a hasty line from his navel down his v-line to where the band of his boxers laid, a thin happy trail guiding your way.

　You heard him breathe out a shaky breath at your teases, and to toy with him more you pulled down his boxers painfully slow, taking your time to unsheathe him before taking his cock into your palm, pumping him as precum leaked from his tip and into your hand. You raised your palm to your face, tongue licking up the salty mess as your eyes met his own, blown wide with surprise and erratic lust.

　“Oh, darlin’,” He choked out, and you smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip before your tongue moved down the vein on the side of his shaft, caressing him as you took him into your mouth.

　He hit the gummy side of your cheek and a deep sigh left him, the warmth melting his calloused attitude as you guided him down your throat, swallowing him as much as you could.

　“Baby, you’re doing so well,” He prided, fingers caressing your cheek as a suppressed cough vibrated through your throat. “Can i fuck that pretty throat of yours?”

　He felt you nod around him, and his hips began thrusting quickly, his dick hitting the back of your throat as he throat fucked you. When he felt himself getting close he pulled out, a trail of spit being left in his wake.

　You whined, causing Joel to laugh, running a hand through your hair. “Need to save myself to fuck you, darlin’. Wanna feel that pretty cunt‘a yours grippin’ me.”

　Your lips upturned at his praises, losing your shirt and turning so that you were on your hands and knees as Joel raised himself to meet your position, pumping his dick and dragging himself through your wetness before inching himself inside.

　You groaned, sinking yourself down so that you could meet his hips as he bottom out inside of you. A hiss left his lips, “You’re so tight, baby. Swallowin’ me whole.”

　You didn’t give him time to adjust to your warmth, wiggling your hips so that he’d get the hint. You heard a hearty chuckle rumble through his chest as he began thrusting inside of you, hand gripping your hips as you sank yourself down to meet his movements.

　Groans tumbled from both your lips as the summer air breezed through your bodies. His arm wrapped around your torso, pulling you up so that your back was against his chest. One arm stayed like that, fingers coming to twist as your pert nipples while the other trailed down to rub at your clit. The simultaneous actions guided you through another orgasm, hips stuttering and word’s incoherently leaving your lips.

　“Atta girl,” Joel praised, hips moving faster and more sloppy as he felt himself reaching his own peak. “So good for me, fuckin’ me so well.”

　You could have sworn there’d be bruises of his fingertips as his hand pulled away from your waist, his iron grip receding and making you cold from the loss of contact.

　You sighed, attempting to compose yourself after being fucked dumb. Your chest heaved with every breath, heart racing. You stole a glance at Joel, who tossed his tee at you as he began to pull his jeans up his legs. You graciously took it, suddenly realizing how exposed you were.

　Joel noticed your silence, the teasing air that usually surrounded you was replaced by a sullen aura, and he frowned. He pulled you into his bare chest, arms wrapping around you protectively.

　“You did so well, baby,” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your scalp.

　“Thanks,” You replied, small smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him. “You weren’t too bad yourself, considering how long it’s probably been since you’ve gotten laid.”

　There it was. Joel secretly loved how you would pal around with him, even if he was the butt of your jokes.

　“It hasn’t been that long,” He replied with an eye roll, “Besides, you can’t deny that that was probably the best sex you’ve ever had.”

　You sighed, but the smile never left your lips. “Yeah, it was a much needed fine tune. Now that you’ve got me runnin’ right, do you think you could work on my car?”

　In all honesty, Joel had forgotten the whole reason he’d come out here in the first place. He nodded, slightly embarrassed, and walked briskly to the door of your car. The engine revved to life as soon as he turned the key, and he gave you a pointed look as you stood beside him.

　“You’ve gotta kiddin’ me,” You muttered. “I swear, my car just hates me.”

　“Yeah, well, it’s gonna hate you even more because you’re comin’ home with me. I’m not letting you get behind the wheel.”

　“Fine,” You breathed out, complying easily as you locked your car and hopped into the shotgun of Joel’s truck. “But you’re making me food when we get back to your place.”

　“Alright, alright,” He chuckled, hands tapping the wheel as he began to drive, “You’ve worked up quite the appetite, huh?”

　“Shut up,” You giggled, shoving his bare shoulder lightly. “Don’t think you’re all that just cuz you got into my pants.”

　“I didn’t even need to get into your pants, remember?” He retaliated, voice raising to mock yours. “I didn’t know you were so talented, Miller.”

　“I do not sound like that!” You squealed with a laugh. “We’ll see how well you do next time.”

　“You thinkin’ you need another jump soon?” He questioned with a knowing quirk of his brow.

　You gazed out the window, smile painting your lips. “Yup. Thinkin’ my car’s gonna need it’s engine looked at, and i hear your garage is open all hours of the night.”

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Assumptions

(Eskel finds out about Feral!Jaskier)

Eskel always enjoyed the winters when Jaskier stayed with them at Kaer Morhen. It was never dull when he was around. The more Eskel got to know him, the more he liked him. The man was talented, highly educated, entertaning, and a genious when it came to music. He was loyal, and cared deeply for the people he held close to his heart.

And while he was highly educated, and intelligent, he was also, well, to put it bluntly, dumb of a**. The man couldn't fight worth a d*mn. His strategy for avoiding trouble was to talk/joke his way out of it, seduce his way out, or scream and run like h*ll.

Even though Jaskier couldn't really fight, that didn't stop him from causing trouble. Eskel figured it was because not too many people were willing to mess with a man who was under the protecton of a scary Witcher, and an equally scary sorceress.

Still, the Wolves were concerned that Jaskier couldn't defend himself. They had tried several times over the winters to train him at least a little, but the bard just didn't seem interested. No one appeared to be concerned about Jaskier's lack of survival skills, so Coen had taken it upon himself to try to train the bard. He had, after only a few weeks, completely given up and told his brothers not to even bother.

Eskel had been shocked. When he questioned him on the decision, Coen had replied simply that Jaskier was absolute dogsh*t at it, and it would be more dangerous to train him. Eskel suspected that his sour mood had something to do with the hip pointer he'd aquired while trying to train Jaskier.

According to Lambert, it had been a complete sh*t show, and Coen had ended up falling hard on some tumbledown masonry when Jaskier had slipped and collided with him. Eskel decide that if Jaskier couldn't fight, he was just going to have to help Geralt look after him on the Path as much as he could.

That was how he found himself meeting up with Geralt and Jaskier one summer. They had crossed paths by chance and Eskel decided to travel with them for a while. Past experience had taught him just how hard a time Geralt had keeping the bard alive on the Path. Jaskier seemed determined to unintentionally yeet himself off this mortal coil at every opportuniy. Jaskier was happy to see Eskel. He rarely saw his friends outside of Kaer Morhen, so any chance meeting was welcome.

They stopped in Aldersberg to rest and let Jaskier earn some coin. The people had been genrous, and he had earned enough for supplies and a little extra to squirrel away. Geralt and Eskel were packing their things while Jaskier went down to get the horses. He was gone just a little too long.

F**k. He was probably getting into touble.

Sure enough, when the Witchers found him, he was being confronted by three angry men. Things were not looking good. Jaskier was already scuffed and had a bloody nose. He was definitely in trouble. Eskel was mentally thrown off balance when, instead of rushing to help, Geralt was just hanging back, watching.

"What the h*ll, Geralt!"

"What do you mean, 'wait'?"

"Geralt, he's in trouble-!" one of the men dragged Jaskier up by the collar, punched him in the jaw, then drew his sword.

F**k you, Geralt! Eskel thought, and rushed in.

He slammed into the man with the sword, sending him tumbling across the stable yard to crash into the stone wall. He turned and saw the second man was down, and Jaskier was struggling with the last one. They both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses. The man snarled in pain and his wicked looking bloodstained push knife went flying into the dirt. The scent of blood was in the air, and blood was beginning to pool on the ground.

Eskel reached for Jaskier, grabbing the back of his jacket, intending to pull him off the man.

Geralt's warning shout of "No, Eskel! Get away from him-!" came too late.

Eskel was knocked over backwards as Jaskier threw his bodyweight into him. His head was spinning as Jaskier attacked him. Pain exploded on the left side of his throat, just below his jaw. He felt something hot run down his neck, and his survival instincts kicked in. Eskel shoved his thumb into the jugular notch at the base of Jaskier's throat.

The bard made a choking sound and jerked, sitting back on Eskel's torso. Eskel saw him pull two knives from inside his jacket.

Holy f**k those knives were his!

Jaskier turned, his attention going to Geralt, who was apporaching slowly, his hands up and empty. Eskel covered the bleeding wound on his throat, trying to stauch the flow of blood.

Jaskier turned at the movement and Eskel recoiled at the cold, intense look in his eyes. He'd never seen him look that way. He had definitely never seen him pointing a knife at Geralt either, or with blood smeared around his mouth... This was not his Jaskier...

"Jaskier, it's us! It's Geralt and Eskel. Calm down." Geralt said, mentally cursing. He wished Yen was here. She was always able to bring Jaskier back to himself when his feral side came out.

Jaskier's fingers moved restlessly on the grip of the push knife he had pointed at Geralt. His hand twitched. A warning.

Geralt stopped walking, immediately going compeletly still. Geralt knew that if he moved any closer, Jaskier was going to drop the push knife, and go for the throwing knives.

He knew Jaskier wasn't seeing faces right now. He was too far into his feral state for that. He was only registering shapes, movement and sound.

"Julek, " Geralt said gently, "Julek, it's alright, they're gone." He hoped the use of the diminutive of his name would snap him out of it. It always seemed to work when Yennefer did it.

It apparently was a Yennefer Thing because it had no effect when Geralt did it.

F**k.

Geralt was more that slightly purturbed, and maybe just a little bit jealous at how Yennefer could just walk up to Jaskier when he was in this state, call him 'Julek', touch him, and he would just come back to himself. It was like watching a little girl walk up to the meanest f***ing bull in the village, and tame it with pat on the nose.

Geralt wasn't Yennefer, so he had to come up with a different way to fix this sh*t show.

He started Distress purring, not knowing what else to do. The sound thrummed, deep and rolling. He saw the way the knives wavered slightly as the sound vibrated through the air.

He kept it up, and Jaskier's arms started to untense, the push knives slowly lowering. Geralt saw his eyes unfocus for a minute.

Geralt knew he was starting to feel the soothing rocking sensation the purring was causing in his head. He purred louder.

Eskel started quietly talking to him while Geralt purred. "It's me, Jaskier, " he said softly, his hand moving up to slowly rub up and down Jaskier's thigh. "It's your 'Esol'. Come on, you remember," Eskel could feel the blood soaking into the collar of his gambeson.

Jaskier turned those hard eyes on him when he felt him touch him. It was getting hard to concentrate, to watch both men at the same time. The feeling of his own blood pounding in his head was starting to fade, and his mind was starting to feel quieter. Rational thoughts were starting to bob to the surface.

Eskel kept rubbing his leg and talking softly, ignoring the knife, "It's Eskel. You didn't forget me, did you, Baby Bird?"

Jaskier blinked. Baby Bird.

That name was familiar... That was what his friend Eskel called him...

"Baby Bird, put them down."

The cold, hard edge in Jaskier's eyes faded.

He took in the scene, saw Eskel bleeding heavily from his neck, saw the push knives in his hands. Tasted the blood in his mouth. He'd hurt Eskel! Oh gods, he'd hurt Eskel!

His face went pale and he dropped the knives, throwing himself off the injured Witcher to retch in the dirt.

Geralt was right there, hand rubbing up and down his back, still purring.

"I-I...," Jaskier stammered, looking at the blood on his hands, and on his shirt. "Shhhh," Geralt shushed him, "We'll talk about it later. We need to get Eskel patched up."

They got Eskel back into their room, got Jaskier calmed down, and Yennefer was summoned. Geralt filled Eskel in on the whole backstory while they cleaned themselves up and waited for Yennefer.

"F**k me," Eskel said, impressed, "You'd never know from just looking at him!" He reached over to Jaskier, who was kneeling beside the bed, and ruffled his hair, "Trained with an elven assasin. D*mn, Songbird, you're amazing! And you, Geralt, you're an ar*ehole for not telling me."

"Hmm."

"Those other ar*eholes know too??? Why the h*ll didn't any of you tell me?"

"'F**k around and find out'? F**k you! F**k all of you b**tards!"

Yennefer had been unsettled by the injury. It was on the left side of Eskel's throat, right under his jaw. She recognized the pattern of the marks.

Jaskier had almost severed Eskel's cartoid artery. With his teeth.

Yennefer used her magic, sealing up the ugly wound, and leaving him another set of scars. When she was done, she went to make sure Jaskier was okay. She sat with him on the bed while Eskel changed out of his bloodly clothes.

She let him lean his head on her shoulder, holding his hand, fingers laced through his. Yennefer tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, stroked his cheek, and fussed with the lace on his collar while carrying on a private mental conversation with him. He smiled at something she thought to him, then took her hand and raised it to his lips to kiss her fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Eskel..." Jaskier mumbled miserably as he watched Eskel inspect the new scars on his throat. Eskel snorted with a cheeky smile. "It's not the first Love Bite you've given me, Baby Bird," he said, holding up his wrist to show him the bite scar there. "Now I've got another Love Bite! The others are going to be so jealsous, especially Lambert!"

"That's not a Love Bite," Geralt said with a smirk, "It's on your throat. That's a Mating Bite. You two are married now."

"But that's a werewolf thing! And anyway, it's just a myth made up by writers of erotic literature!" Eskel protested.

"Read a lot of erotic literature about werewolves, do you?" Geralt inquired, raising an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you even know what erotic literature is."

"Man, f**k you!"

It became The Joke and Eskel and Jaskier ran with it all winter long. Yennefer spent that winter in Kaer Morhen so she wouldn't miss a moment of watching the mayhem.

Eskel got to hear his bothers tell their stories about how they found out about Feral!Jaskier, and show off their scars. Except for Lambert, whose scars were in a place he couldn't show in the presence of mixed company.

And Eskel was reminded to never make assumptions. And never f**k with the bard.

[i-eat-deodorant]

so sorry so sorry it's the crackfic anon again........ Like it's so STUPID i'm at my goddamn 9-5 and all I ponder is greasy ass cat. I don't know why making them 50 year old men has consumed my mind so much.

I've been writing my own crackfic of the crackfic............... and like....... I'm just gonna barf this on you, so sorry.

In my like, fic of the fic???? Narinder gets home one day to see a red letter shoved into the doorframe of his apartment. He's EVICTED for ignoring the multitude of warnings he was given to not smoke inside. Staring at the red envelope, sends him back to an earlier time for a couple moments. Red branding, red stationary, red logos, red suits,

now a red eviction letter.... how far he's fallen.

Then so of COURSE, panic packing all his shit while spiraling, homelessness? Live in the gas station storage room?? He barely has enough for a damage deposit. While shoving jeans into a backpack, he finds the crumpled business card.... with Lambert's address...

LIKE I swear to you I've thought about this far too much. (The $1,000 he blew through, has none, or barely any of left of it. This is probably a week-ish after.)

So he goes to Lambert's place, pathetically asks for a place to stay.

After some bickering and taunting, Lambert eventually caves, letting Narinder stay until his next paycheque in <five days>.

So there's like an opposite power imbalance to like the BEFORE where he was the Big Dick Business Guy and Lambert was the one given a chance. Lambert is now the Big Dick Business Guy giving him a chance, in his own H O M E. Then of course, things evolve, stuff happens.

I just needed to like get this OUT because you are literally the only person who would understand. I am POSSESSED I am supposed to be a functioning member of society.

anon are you in my google docs

i'm cackling at this whole thing because this has been plot beat for plot beat one of the endings i've rambled about when i first sketched out the initial idea. i've never felt read like a book this much before, oh my goodness. reading every word of this ask has been wonderful. thank you for sharing pathetic 50 year old men brainrot with me.

this is so good, you have it all thought out. the steady downward spiral of his own making. the growing desperation. then, when he hits rock bottom, he finds salvation in the one person he screwed over, returning the favour.

please, if you're okay with sharing, i'd love to read it. i know it's a crack au i made up but i'm so invested on where you're going with this anon you have no idea.

[oneunexpected]

Happy TUC20! Last year, for the fifth anniversary of TUC Week, I wanted to create a playlist for every book in the series with one song per chapter. Well, I never got around for it, but when I saw @prophecyofgray's event I decided I’d use it as a second chance!

So, here’s my chapter-by-chapter playlist for Gregor the Overlander, with a brief description of why I chose each song. This one was tough, because so much of it is exposition, but I hope you enjoy and tune in to a couple of tracks during your (re)read! Click here to listen on Spotify. If you're gonna listen to anything, listen to Track 24, that's my favorite :)

1 - Could Be a Curse by Kaina - I almost went with Bruce Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark” for this one, because I wanted to capture how cooped up Gregor feels, and I think both songs capture that feeling of wanting more out of your life than you’re getting. I went with Could Be a Curse because the line “What if I die here, holding my breath” reminds me of Gregor at this point — he’s spent the last few years of his life holding his breath, wondering about his father’s fate.

2 - Come Along by Cosmo Sheldrake - Gregor and Boots meet the cockroaches and run to Regalia in this chapter. Cosmo Sheldrake’s music has such a unique and almost fantastical quality to it, and I thought this would be a good choice to represent how strange this new world is to Gregor and how quickly he’s whisked off into it.

3 - Uninvited by Alanis Morisette - This song goes hard. It was written for a movie about a fallen angel, so it captures the whole “I’m curious about you but also I don’t feel like you belong” dynamic Luxa and Gregor have in this chapter.

4 - Sound and Color by Alabama Shakes - “A new world hangs / Outside the window / Beautiful and strange.” Just another song I thought would be good for Gregor’s introduction to the Underland, especially with its line, “No more to see the setting of the sun.” Of course, Gregor’s only goal is to see the sun again.

5 - Plainsong by The Cure - I chose this song more for its sound than its lyrics. The shimmery, quiet chimes that begin the track give way to this explosion of synthy strings and bass, and I chose that to represent Gregor walking through the moths and seeing Regalia for the first time.

6 - Hotel California by The Eagles - Honestly I could not decide what song to use for this chapter. I nearly used the song I ended up using for chapter 10, but I went with this classic mostly for the line, “I had to find the passage back to the place I was before.” Gregor is realizing the fate of every other Overlander that falls, and he’s also beginning to realize he is something of a captive, so I think the song’s concept of a too-good-to-be-true place that traps all who enter fits well.

7 - Sinnerman by Nina Simone - One of the greatest songs ever, used here to try to replicate the chaos of Gregor on the run from the Regalians on the river, not knowing what danger waits for him.

8 - Come Away to the Water by Maroon 5 and Rozzi - The first of many tracks I stole from The Hunger Games soundtrack. Shoutout to Suzanne for reusing themes. This song is creepy, kind of charming, and intended to lure the listener to a slaughter — perfect for the gnawers, who in this chapter promise to hunt Gregor to the last rat, matching well with the song’s refrain, “We are coming for you.”

9 - Eight by Sleeping at Last - I was stumped on this one, so I turned to Sleeping at Last, whom everyone in the fandom was obsessed with before I joined tumblr. This chapter gives us the first glimpse behind Luxa’s walls as we learn of her parents’ fate. The lyrics “I was little, weak and perfectly naive / And I grew up too quick” match her very well, and frankly, they match Gregor, too.

10 - Run Daddy Run by Miranda Lambert - Another THG classic that fits too well. “Mama’s been crying in the kitchen / Sister’s been scared of the dark / I’ve been gathering the pieces of all these shattered hearts” represents Gregor’s family situation in the wake of his father’s disappearance all too well. In this chapter, Gregor finds out his dad is alive but held captive, and the chorus “Daddy, can you hear the devil drawing near? / Like a bullet from a gun, run, Daddy, run” fit the situation well for me.

11 - Baba O’Riley by The Who - Another chapter I was stumped by, but I ended up focusing on Gregor choosing to bring Boots on the journey for this track. I liked the line “don’t cry, don’t raise your eyes” for the idea of bringing a toddler on a deadly trek. This song depicts hope in a period of war, and I feel like this is the chapter where Gregor really begins to believe finding his dad is possible.

12 - Yellow Light by Of Monsters and Men - This is a good TUC song, through and through. I chose it for this chapter because of the line “Ignore all those big warning signs,” because this chapter has a lot of those. This is the first time we get a hint of Solovet’s true character, and it’s also the chapter where an inconsolable Nerissa foretells Henry will meet some fate worse than death.

13 - Electric Co. by U2 - U2 is my favorite band, so you’ll get a lot of them in these playlists. Sorry that I have the music taste of a 50-year-old man. Anyways, this chapter is where Luxa and Henry dare Gregor to jump off the side of the cliff, and also the chapter where Gregor learns Henry’s parents were killed by rats. “Boy, stupid boy / Don’t sit at the table / until you’re able to” reminded me of Gregor’s inability to hang with Luxa and Henry, but the whole song, which is about this young man careening out of control, reminded me of Henry.

14 - Cut the World by Anohni - This is the chapter where the questers have a discussion on whether or not weak individuals are worthy of protection, and Luxa is extremely passive on the topic. This is a beautiful song I almost saved for Marks of Secret because I think it’s a good song for her, and MoS is really her book in my eyes, but I decided to use it here. “For so long I’ve obeyed / That feminine decree / I’ve always contained / Your desire to hurt me / But when will I turn and cut the world” are good lyrics for Luxa, who is unwilling to take a stand here (but eventually does “cut the world” on behalf of those who can’t defend themselves in the fourth book, as we know). But I also like the song for the crawlers, who take abuse from every other species — Temp and Tick can hear this whole conversation about whether or not they’re worthy of living! — and survive regardless.

15 - Road Drum by Mozart Gabriel - This song has a strong beat, but it’s still pretty quiet, which I liked for the ring dance the crawlers perform. The song’s lyrics depict aid from spiders and foxes that the protagonist receives as they run from evil, and I liked the way that matched with Gregor splitting off from the group and running away from the battle with the gnawers and ultimately ends up in a spinner’s web.

16 - Roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent - Song selected mostly for vibes, and also because I like the line “Wings wouldn’t help you down,” which is a little nose since Gregor’s imprisoned dozens of feet off the ground. This song’s kind of a bummer, which is a good enough fit since Gregor’s trapped wondering if all of his friends are dead and if he’ll ever be able to find his father, but it also has a pretty melody, hopefully a little similar to the sort of lullaby the spinners play to calm down Boots.

17 - Acrobat by U2 - Another Luxa song that I almost saved for Marks of Secret. It’s a little too on the nose, maybe, because this is the chapter where Luxa and Aurora the Coiler to allow everyone to escape. “And I must be an acrobat / To talk like this and act like that” fits Luxa well at this point in her character arc — a bratty 11-year-old who seems haughty and cold, only to have these moments where her brave, selfless core is revealed.

18 - We’re Going to be Friends by The White Stripes - this is a gentle song for a relatively gentle chapter, a sort of breath of fresh air. Gregor saving Luxa with root beer (and then letting her try it after) is a turning point in their relationship, and Boots pouring out a little for everyone to try is one of the most harmonious moments we get in the whole book.

19 - The House of the Rising Sun as performed by The Animals - “Oh mothers, tell your children / Not to do what I have done.” I love this song for Ripred. I love the way it sounds, and I love its lyrical content. Obviously, he’s not a man destitute in New Orleans, but he is certainly a cynical old rat who recognizes all the ways he’s gone wrong. In terms of regrets, it’s also a good song for Vikus, who is staring down his own mistakes in this chapter.

20 - Sympathy by Vampire Weekend - Ah, the mutual need song. Also the Gregor-Luxa-Ripred triumvirate song. “Enemies for centuries / Until there was a third” is pretty good for them, right? This is sort of a tongue-in-cheek piece about what we’re willing to do, and what we’re willing to look past, so long as we have a common enemy, so I think it’s perfect for Gregor and Ripred’s famous conversation, and also for the spiders joining the quest now that their backs are to the wall.

21 - Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls - This chapter was so tough for me. We got Gox drinking Treflex, we got Luxa talking about how she tells herself she’s gonna die every morning and Gregor realizing that’s not too different from what he does, we got a more in-depth description of bonding, and somehow I ended up with Iris, which I know has become kinda tacky. I thought a song about wanting someone to really understand you was fitting for a chapter about bonds, but also fitting for Luxa talking about how her parents’ death affected her.

22 - Little Dark Age by MGMT - Not really much to explain here. Every character is miserable in this chapter, and something about this song reminds me of Henry’s increasingly concerning behavior. “Forgiving who you are for what you stand to gain?” Sounds Henry-ish!

23 - 500 Miles by Peter, Paul and Mary - Tick’s death is a point of no return for Gregor in this whole series, the first major loss he experiences. Even beyond the grief of losing Tick, the situation in this chapter is so desolate, with Boots sick and all of the horrible things Gregor has witnessed finally catching up with him. “500 Miles” is about homesickness, but also recognizing that you can’t return, and the saddest line to me is “Lord, I can’t go home this way.” Gregor can’t go home, yet, either, since he hasn’t found his father.

24 - Until The End of the World by U2 - If you listen to any song here, PLEASE listen to this one. I made this whole series of playlists just to work this one in. It tells the story of Judas and Jesus, from Judas’ point of view, which is so, so perfect for Henry and his relationship with Ares and Luxa. I love the way this song sounds — I can just imagine those opening notes when Gregor decides what he’s going to do — but my favorite part is the outro. This technically happens in the next chapter, but “Waves of regret and waves of joy / I reached out for the one I tried to destroy / You / You said you’d wait until the end of the world” is such a perfect thing for Henry’s demise because of Ares’ decision to break the bond.

25 - King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men - “And as the world comes to an end / I’ll be there to hold your hand / Because you’re my king and I’m your lionheart” makes me cryyyyyy for Gregor and his dad in this chapter. Gregor’s been so brave for so long, and the reunion they have when his father finally becomes lucid again is the best moment in the book, even though scores of rats are waiting to tear them apart.

26 - Drowning Man by U2 - Another chapter, another U2 song, this one for Gregor bonding with Ares. The whole song is a good bonding song, but the lyrics “Take my hand / You know I’ll be there if you can / I’ll cross the skies for your love” remind me the most of their particular situation, down to Gregor begging Ares to recite the verse back.

27 - A Sort of Homecoming by U2 - Perhaps Prophecy of Bane will have less U2 songs. Good Lord. Anyways, I chose this song for “Oh don’t sorrow, no, don’t weep / For tonight, at last, I am coming home / I am coming home” and the whole “you’re scarred for life but at least you’ve made it home” vibe of this song as Gregor, his dad and Boots finally make it back to Grace.

[thewitcheress2389]

It’s Only Natural

When one’s expecting, it’s only natural to have some fear. However, Eskel takes it to a whole other level

I really love the Witcher 3 Eskel💖(sorry, but not fond of Netflix Eskel, they did him dirty and it still upsets me) I love sweet Eskel, so I’m writing this because I miss him. Enjoy some worried Dad Eskel as I try to write for him for the first time :).

You figured he was allowed a drink with Geralt and Lambert. He’s seemed so on edge lately; you knew he needed a break. Every time you tried to ask him; Eskel would just shut down. So, you figured the boys could calm him down a bit, get him to talk.

After all, your pregnancy was rather unexpected.

Vesemir always said “witchers are sterile as rocks” but it turns out the chances were just extremely low. I mean, how many witchers try hard for a kid when they’re told that it’s impossible? I guess all it took was one slim chance for you and Eskel.

And just like that, a true miracle was created.

Of course, he doubted you at first. Eskel never accused you of cheating. He could never do that. The witcher just figured that you were sick or something because there was absolutely no way that he managed to get you pregnant. It was impossible.

But then you guys went to a oneiromancer, who confirmed not only that you were pregnant, but that Eskel was indeed the father. Since this was proof enough for him, he took you straight to Kaer Morhen. In his mind, it was the safest place for you and the baby.

After all, a baby like this has never been born before.

Vesemir was speechless but supportive, Lambert teased Eskel, and it was just a reminder for Geralt to go and find Ciri. However, that in turn had him brining back a being called Uma, and a lot of other things before this evening where all the witchers were drinking together.

You and Yen decided to sleep. Well, she was upset, and you were just tired.

After telling Eskel that you would leave a candle lit for him, so he could see when he came into the room, you went up. Of course, he offered to walk you up, which resulted in teasing from the other two. Eventually, you convinced him to stay, and that was that.

Several hours later...

You weren’t sure how late in the night it was, but you heard something crashing and falling in your room before another thud followed suit. You would be worried if you didn’t hear the light swearing that identified the intruder as Eskel.

“That is why I left a candle going Eskel...” You mumbled sleepily, barely catching a glimpse of his figure as he stood up in the darkness.

“Sorry...but it was so bright...made my head hurt...” The witcher mumbled before stumbling over to the bed.

He was drunk. You should’ve guessed this would happen.

“It’s one candle...” You said with a slight giggle as you sleepily moved yourself to a sitting position. Before he could hurt himself, you grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the bed, where he fell rather dramatically on.

“Eskel, Eskel...you’re gonna regret this in the morning.” You said with a smile while moving to help him take off his boots and jerkin. However, he was not smiling, even in his drunken state, he appeared solemn.

“I’m sorry...” He said in a tipsy manner, but it was still sincere.

“Eskel, love, it’s okay...” You told him, but he just shook his head and covered his eyes with his hand. It was hard for you to make out, but it sounded like he was about to cry.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly, moving to rub his shoulder.

“What if...What if the baby turns out looking like Uma...or some other horrible looking monster...all because of these mutations...” He said, his voice sounding like a whimper behind his hand. 

There you have it.

That’s what’s been bothering him this whole time.

Perhaps a little of his behavior could be blamed on the fact that he never thought he could conceive a child, but a majority of it came from guilt. Eskel was guilty over the fact that his mutations could cause abnormalities in the baby. 

The very thought tore him apart inside, but he hid that behind the stoic face of a witcher. 

“Eskel...hey...” You gave him a slight hug as he tried his upmost hardest to hide behind his drunken tears. As you did this, you felt the slightest movement in your 7-month pregnant belly. You placed your hand there before moving to grab Eskel’s hand, placing it there as well.

“Feel that...feels like a normal healthy baby to me...” You told him softly, moving his hand around as the baby kicked. Eskel just stared, calming down slightly as he took in your words before smiling slightly. You were glad to see he was feeling a bit better.

Even though you knew he would not remember your words at all tomorrow.

“There...now, let’s get some sleep.” Was all you had to say before he collapsed beside you, still with one boot on. You shook your head before quickly removing it and snuggling in beside him.

And, of course, when he woke up the next day, he was utterly confused as to why you were smiling at him. Eskel just shook it off before acting like nothing was bothering him, kissing you in the morning and walking off to see what Vesemir wanted him to do today.

But you were just glad you knew what was bugging him.

Now you can spend the coming days convincing him that the baby was going to be just fine.

[tinnictheguardian]

Earliest Possible Dimileth

So one thing Fire Emblem Warriors: Three Hopes showed very clearly, is how low in the social hierarchy Byleth is as a mercenary. Essentially, if she doesn’t return to the Monastery, and Rhea doesn’t elevate her by throwing the weight of the church behind her, Byleth is just a mercenary who is very unlikely to come into contact with someone like Dimitri.

Even Shez gets lucky and as a mercenary, mysterious powers or not, she’s not getting a meeting with Prince Dimitri, let alone King Dimitri. 

Also, an aside, I think the assumption is that Shez is dead in Three Houses verse because we know Byleth encounters Shez and nearly kills Shez in Hopes verse. But I think that Shez survives her encounter with Byleth in Houses verse the same way she did in Hopes verse. It’s just that the three Lords went left instead of right and thus encountered Byleth. Shez never came into the picture in Houses verse because she is a lowly mercenary and in Houses verse, Byleth usually ends the game really high-up in the social hierarchy and thus, there is no chance Shez is getting another duel with her.

But that’s an aside, getting back to Dimitri and Byleth, I realised that there was one very small window before either of the game started when Byleth and Dimitri could meet! The Western Rebellion!

To summarise the lore the game gives us, following the death of King Lambert, a lesser branch of the Blaiddyd family made a play for the crown of Faerghus. I don’t think it was ever made clear if they were crestless or just didn’t have the crest of Blaiddyd but whichever way, it was an old fashion powerplay.

In Hopes it’s implied the Dimitri’s Uncle Rufus and Cornelia had a hand in orchestrating the rebellion as a way to get rid of Dimitri. Because they sent Dimitri, I am guessing with the remaining knights and soldiers loyal to him from the Palace to suppress the Rebellion. The goal being that both Dimitri and the last of the people loyal to him and King Lambert would die trying to put down the rebellion.

The only reason Dimitri survived was because House Fraldarius, which being a military house has the largest military force, was able to bolster Dimitri’s forces and Dimitri was successful in putting down the rebellion.

Now, this is a moment in time when Dimitri could have met Byleth because Rodrigue could have hired Jeralt’s mercenaries as a stop gap while he gathered and brought his men down to help Dimitri. 

Alternatively, assuming Dimitri’s remaining support included minor lords with means to pay a mercenary group, they could have hired Jeralt’s mercenaries directly.

Obviously, Dimitri himself would never hire mercenaries because he knew he had been sent on a suicide mission and he would not seek to spread the death by hiring unaffiliated mercenaries.

The reason I think Byleth had a higher chance to meet 15 year old Dimitri, had Jeralt’s group been hired during the Western Rebellion is because it was a smaller army. It was Dimitri and the knights loyal to him, plus House Fraldarius. So any mercenaries would standout.

Would 15 year old Dimitri attract the attention of 19 year old Byleth? Would Byleth take note of Dimitri? How much more muted was Byleth’s emotions when she was 19? There was also the fact that 15 year old Dimitri was closer to “Boar Dimitri” to the point that Felix was disgusted by him. So there is a chance that he was too lost in his grief and rage to notice Byleth.

It’s an interesting thought and I might one day write a fic exploring the 15 year old Dimitri meeting 19 year old Byleth!

[spielzeugkaiser]

Are Witcher’s still made in the onlyfans Au? I just have a hard time picturing this modern good dad Vesimir putting his kids through the trails, especially if they might not survive, especially if Gerald doesn’t want to be.

You are absolutely right! He would never.

I have not thought that out in detail, but I imagine it’s a mix of spontaneous genetic mutations (that are quite rare) and a ‘running in the family’ thing, because they’re not 100% sterile anymore. For Lambert it was a mutation his parents didn’t see coming (hence they gave him away / maybe his father accused his mum of cheating, idk), Eskel just doesn’t know, he remembers his mum but not too much of her; and for Geralt… I thought that maybe there is some higher chance once magic is involved? Maybe he’s still a law of surprise child? I haven’t really thought about why Visenna gave him away, she just put him in Vesemirs care “for a few days” and never picked him up again.

[atopearth]

Piofiore: Episodio 1926 Part 7 - Henri Lambert Route & Overall Review

Henri wearing glasses showing a gentle smile is so beautiful. I honestly wish for him to be happy so I'm looking forward to this route! Henri working as a translator is so nice! It's something I would love to do as well, so it makes me like him even more haha. Seeing them get to live peacefully is nice, and they're so silly but I can understand why they would think they shouldn't try to "change" their relationship but c'mon Henri!! No girl leaves her home and everyone she cares for, for a guy she doesn't love! The two of them holding hands and eating lunch together is cute~ I hope they get to live more openly without fear of being chased soon. The more excited Lili was to return home, the more obvious that the Phantom probably killed the children, but I still hoped that it wouldn't happen. They were such a happy little family. I know they need a reason to leave and face their problems, the Phantom and everything, but this is just so so cruel. I feel terrible for Liliana. I can't imagine how it must feel for her, she's the one who cared for the children the most and saw them the most, and she had to be the first to witness the bloodied house and see their bodies, I can't imagine the devastation. But I also feel bad for Henri knowing that their deaths were because of him.

Honestly, it's crazy to think that in the first game, I really felt nothing for Henri. But after seeing more of his story in 1926, his feelings and now seeing many more thoughts and emotions from him, I can't help but wish that Henri can be happy despite the things he has done. Otherwise, it's really sweet to see how happy the guys are to see her well. I always appreciate how kind Gil is in expressing how much he cares for Lili and how he's always willing to help her if she needs help. Even Yang's roundabout way of telling her he's happy to see her well was cute. I understand Henri's reasons for leaving Lili with the Falzone but I'm still hurt😭 He's too considerate for his own good, he doesn't care about himself enough. And I agree with Nicola, if I lived Henri's life where his family all died because of this Key Maiden thing and the Falzone, and then I was forced to live with distant relatives of the Falzone that hated me, yeah I don't think many people would not want revenge. Lmao at Lee being surprised at Yang saying he cares about needing to protect all the innocents dying in Burlone. You could feel Yang's sarcasm😂 Wow, Sebastiano actually killed every single former employee of the casino, all those poor people.. I actually really like how Lili isn't recklessly wanting to go look for Henri and instead just asked Orlok to give him a letter for her, I think that's very sweet since she understands everyone wants her to stay safe. I never knew I needed this, but a little Nicola and a little Henri playing together all the time back in the day is the cutest thing ever, I want to cry at the potential of how happy and sweet Henri's life could have been if he stayed at the Falzone manor with him. It just breaks my heart seeing them smile so happily.

I'm so glad Sister Sofia showed Lili the letters Henri sent to her. Lili always put Henri first and never sent any further letters back to Sister Sofia after the first one because she wanted to protect Henri and prevent any chances of people tracing his whereabouts, but Henri always put Lili first by constantly updating Sister Sofia of their lives and apologising for taking Lili away from her. He's such a thoughtful and silly guy😭 Dante, Nicola, Orlok and Sister Sofia planning a way to help Lili meet Henri without him running away was the sweetest thing ever. Everyone knows how hard she's been trying to fake being cheerful, so seeing them care so much for Lili is really heartwarming. I love how they all helped her meet Henri, and I'm so happy that he's realised how important it is for Lili to stay with him. Lmao when Nicola was making fun of how Sebastiano said Yang wasn't beautiful😂😂 It must have been difficult for Henri to go back to the Falzone manor, but I'm glad Giulia welcomed him so warmly and he can have some happy memories here. I'm glad Nicola helped Lili understand that she loves Henri, like lady, no one abandons their whole life for sympathy! It's so sad that Sebastiano dug up and stole Chloe's (Henri's sister) remains but Henri only thought about how it's good that Sebastiano is focused on him and not Lili. Honestly, I do enjoy how crazy Phantom is in this route. The fact that he killed beautiful women who looked like Chloe to gather parts of them to make the perfect Chloe is just so insane but very fascinatingly him.

I love how the guys encouraged Lili to give Henri a kiss to cheer him up lmao, but dang was she brave to actually do it! I felt so bad for Lili, Henri is really an idiot😭😭 I know he thinks nothing of himself and that's why he doesn't believe Lili could ever love someone like him, but that was sad. Nicola laughing at Henri for restraining himself was funny though, made me feel a bit better. I love seeing Henri interacting with all the guys, they're all so different and fun. Lmao at all the guys picking on Henri for having not done anything with Lili this whole time even though they eloped and lived together for so long. I died when Yang said he was a eunuch😂 I love how even Dante shyly joined in taunting Henri into doing the job of disqualifying Lili from being the Key Maiden haha. Henri is the best kind of partner for food outings! He'll notice when you can't decide between your options and just chooses both for you and he'll let you eat the best one while he eats the leftovers of the one you prefer least. Lili is so lucky🥹 I loved their date and I loved the confession. Henri expressing how much he loves her and how he thought he didn't deserve her but couldn't help but continue to want her was very sweet. Henri kissing Lili over and over again, and teasing her so gently was so nice to see, so happy for them🥹 Henri feeding her breakfast was the cutest thing ever! I didn't want to remember the pain of those poor children getting killed by someone as insane as Sebastiano, but it was also heartwarming to see Henri finally give Lili the handkerchief they sewed for both her and Henri.

Even though Sebastiano is a nut, I do recognise that his actions were probably the best way for him to force Henri to become the version of him that lived on hatred and vengeance again. And by doing all that, Sebastiano would be the focus of that hatred, so it would make him happy that Henri is so focused on him and constantly think about him. In his own twisted way, it must have made him so happy to see Henri think about him so much this whole route. It was obvious that by this point, there's no way Henri would still be super hung up over Chloe and her remains, but it was nice to see him actually say it to Sebastiano and make him die knowing that Henri will never be who he wanted him to be. It's sad that Chloe's remains will never be truly found since Sebastiano either hid it somewhere they can't find, destroyed it or locked it in that box that will explode if touched in the wrong way, but I think it's fine. The dead will remain dead and there is never any guarantee they are resting in peace as bones anyway. I loved the ending, it was so sweet seeing them smile so happily together freely in France continuing the peaceful life they had, the flower ring was beautiful! Honestly, definitely the best route and highlight of this game haha. The tragic ending was pretty cruel to have Henri go with her on such a happy date (that I enjoyed too!) and then have him end the night telling her she needs to sleep with someone and that he wouldn't recommend Yang and refuses to be the one even though she clearly expressed that she wants him. That ending was definitely much more devastating than I expected. I felt so terrible having to think of Dante's torture and Henri's mental breakdown. The only solace that could be found was that Gil died in a way that he would have liked and Orlok got to die with Rosberg, whereas everyone else was forced to die at the hands of things or people they hated the most and were forced to die with extreme regrets. But I guess I feel the worst for Lili because she will continue to live being imprisoned, shackled, raped and broken by the hollow shell of the man she loves and the crazy guy who will never let them go. Probably the most tragic ending in this game tbh and now I feel too down about this whole thing to go sleep lol! Lmao at the bad ending where Sebastiano uses a saw to cut Lili's head off, what a guy.

Overall, I kinda wish I did the tragic ending before the good ending because that shit was brutal LOL. Now my impression is that I finished this game with everyone dying haha! Anyway, it's all good, I'll live because even though it was a tough ending to swallow, I liked it because it truly was a tragic ending compared to some of the other ones. Basically, Henri's route was wonderful and exceeded expectations. I really didn't know what to think about him when I first started this route because I didn't like his route in the original game and felt it was too shallow in terms of story and just the whole running away with Henri thing. But dang did Henri's existence and personality change my mind not long after hahaha. Not only was the plot engaging with how Henri fended against Sebastiano along with getting to know a bit more of their history together and Sebastiano's obsession but the romance was so beautiful too. Innocent and filled with the desire to be together but feeling like it's better to not be together, but then in the end still choosing to be together, I love that shit hahahah. It was also really fun to see all the guys appear alot throughout the whole route because their interactions were just so fun and supportive! Sebastiano was also a much more compelling villain this time around and his insanity just went off the charts which I loved. I feel like the reason why I didn't like him in Alternativa is because Sebastiano's character was basically made for Henri, so without Henri, his character feels like "nothing" which is probably what he himself feels like too lol. Very satisfying in all aspects imo. I would totally read this route again.

Overall Review

All in all, I would give this game an 8/10 just for Henri's route itself haha, it was so good. Otherwise, I really enjoyed the romance in Nicola and Gil's routes. I will always be weak to Gil the gentleman haha. I would rate Nicola's route above Gil's just because Teo's struggles were nice to see and much more understandable compared to what he does in other routes, whereas I just wanted Gil's dad to disappear every time he appeared lol. Yang's route was nice and sweet but that wasn't what I signed up for with Yang, so even though it was nice, it felt kinda lacking. However, in terms of side character interactions, I probably loved the route the most just below Henri's because I actually really liked Rui and his story when it came to Yuan. I thought I would love Yuan more but I honestly fell for Rui instead haha. It's actually adorable how cute he was with the twins and how much of a good guy he was to admit his mistakes towards judging Lili and respecting her afterwards. I have to say though, I also like Lee much more in this game because his interactions with the twins in Alternativa was so fun haha. As usual, when it comes to Dante, even though I did enjoy the route much more this time around, I do think the story with Raul and the Falzone was pretty weak and bland, it doesn't help that other than being pretty, Raul is pretty much useless as a person with no personality lol. I also warmed up a bit more to the romance between Lili and Orlok but it's pretty outrageous that Orlok doesn't get any steamy scenes or just more romance focused CGs, but yeah as usual, Orlok isn't my type so I wasn't really into it anyway. So my favourite to least favourite route would be Henri, Nicola, Gilbert - Yang, Dante and then Orlok. Definitely recommend playing this game even if just for Henri's route tbh, it was so worth it haha. It's got pretty similar vibes to the original game and I'd say even though there are quite a few boring moments too, I still very much enjoyed it, 8/10.

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Cersei VI (Chapter 28)

The Winds of Winter is delayed because he convinced himself every chapter needs to be the size of a short novel.

"There are other men as well, I hear. Knights and courtiers. Admirers. Tell me true, my lady. Do you think Margaery is still a maiden?"

"She says she is, Your Grace."

"So she does. What do you say?"

Taena's black eyes sparkled with mischief. "When she wed Lord Renly at Highgarden, I helped disrobe him for the bedding. His lordship was a well-made man, and lusty. I saw the proof when we tumbled him into the wedding bed where his bride awaited him as naked as her name day, blushing prettily beneath the coverlets. Ser Loras had carried her up the steps himself. Margaery may say that the marriage was never consummated, that Lord Renly had drunk too much wine at the wedding feast, but I promise you, the bit between his legs was anything but weary when last I saw it."

"Did you chance to see the marriage bed the morning after?" Cersei asked. "Did she bleed?"

"No sheet was shown, Your Grace."

I'm guessing Loras being present helped with that.

I still don't understand what the long-term plan was with these three. Was there seriously no consummation? Did they never intend to have sex? She was on board with her husband being gay and in love with her brother? What about an heir?

I have so many questions.

+.+.+

A pity. Still, the absence of a bloody sheet meant little, by itself. Common peasant girls bled like pigs upon their wedding nights, she had heard, but that was less true of highborn maids like Margaery Tyrell. A lord's daughter was more like to give her maidenhead to a horse than a husband, it was said, and Margaery had been riding since she was old enough to walk.

I'm sharing because it made me laugh out loud.

+.+.+

"I understand the little queen has many admirers amongst our household knights. The Redwyne twins, Ser Tallad . . . who else, pray tell?"

Lady Merryweather gave a shrug. "Ser Lambert, the fool who hides a good eye behind a patch. Bayard Norcross. Courtenay Greenhill. The brothers Woodwright, sometimes Portifer and often Lucantine. Oh, and Grand Maester Pycelle is a frequent visitor."

"Pycelle? Truly?" Had that doddering old worm forsaken the lion for the rose? If so, he will regret it. "Who else?"

"The Summer Islander in his feathered cloak. How could I have forgotten him, with his skin as black as ink? Others come to pay court to her cousins. Elinor is promised to the Ambrose boy, but loves to flirt, and Megga has a new suitor every fortnight. Once she kissed a potboy in the kitchen. I have heard talk of her marrying Lady Bulwer's brother, but if Megga were to choose for herself, she would sooner have Mark Mullendore, I am certain."

Highlighting for later.

Pycelle frequently visits Margaery, but it's those flirty cousins and their suitors we should be paying attention to.

+.+.+

When Taena frowned, a tiny crease appeared between her dark eyes. "Every morn and every night he [Loras] visits, unless duty interferes. Her brother is devoted to her, they share everything with . . . oh . . ." For a moment, the Myrish woman looked almost shocked. Then a smile spread across her face. "I have had a most wicked thought, Your Grace."

"Best keep it to yourself. The hill is thick with sparrows, and we all know how sparrows abhor wickedness."

I can only assume her idea is spreading fake news about Loras and Margaery. That's a bold suggestion from someone playing both sides.

+.+.+

"So I suspect. As a rule the Most Devout elevate one of their own, but there have been exceptions." Grand Maester Pycelle had informed her of the history, at tedious length.

Always pay attention to history, Cersei.

+.+.+

"During the reign of King Baelor the Blessed a simple stonemason was chosen as High Septon. He worked stone so beautifully that Baelor decided he was the Smith reborn in mortal flesh. The man could neither read nor write, nor recall the words of the simplest of prayers." Some still claimed that Baelor's Hand had the man poisoned to spare the realm embarrassment.

King Baelor the Blessed sounds like a looney tune. How predictable.

Is that last part about poison relevant?

+.+.+

"After that one died, an eight-year-old boy was elevated, once more at King Baelor's urging. The boy worked miracles, His Grace declared, though even his little healing hands could not save Baelor during his final fast."

Please!!

+.+.+

Lady Merryweather gave a laugh. "Eight years old? Perhaps my son could be High Septon. He is almost seven."

"Does he pray a lot?" the queen asked.

"He prefers to play with swords."

"A real boy, then. Can he name all seven gods?"

"I think so."

"I shall have to take him under consideration." Cersei did not doubt that there were any number of boys who would do more honor to the crystal crown than the wretch on whom the Most Devout had chosen to bestow it.

Yes! A number of boys! Who cares if he doesn't know how to read or use utensils? Not me.

+.+.+

This is what comes of letting fools and cowards rule themselves. Next time, I will choose their master for them. And the next time might not be long in coming, if the new High Septon continued to annoy her. Baelor's Hand had little to teach Cersei Lannister where such matters were concerned.

I believe her.

+.+.+

"You should bring this son of yours to court," Cersei told Lady Merryweather. "Six is not too young. Tommen needs other boys about him. Why not your son?" Joffrey had never had a close friend of his own age, that she recalled. The poor boy was always alone. I had Jaime when I was a child . . . and Melara, until she fell into the well. 

Unreliable narrator Cersei Lannister.

Cause, you know.

+.+.+

"Your Grace is kind, but Russell has never known any home but Longtable. I fear he would be lost in this great city."

"Bring my son to court to befriend the king? Nah, we're good, thanks."

Hun, this is not your friend.

+.+.+

We had to have those ships. She could not rely upon the Arbor for her navy; the Redwynes were too close to the Tyrells. She needed her own strength at sea.

The dromonds rising on the river would give her that. Her flagship would dip twice as many oars as King Robert's Hammer. Aurane had asked her leave to name her Lord Tywin, which Cersei had been pleased to grant. She looked forward to hearing men speak of her father as a "she."

rofl.

+.+.+

Another of the ships would be named Sweet Cersei, and would bear a gilded figurehead carved in her likeness, clad in mail and lion helm, with spear in hand. Brave Joffrey, Lady Joanna, and Lioness would follow her to sea, along with Queen Margaery, Golden Rose, Lord Renly, Lady Olenna, and Princess Myrcella. The queen had made the mistake of telling Tommen he might name the last five. He had actually chosen Moon Boy for one. 

Really?

Samwell, please make sure the Renly chapters are accurate.

+.+.+

She wore a white gown slashed with cloth-of-gold, lacy but demure. It had been several years since the last time she had donned it, and the queen found it uncomfortably tight about the middle.

It's unnecessary that I keep highlighting this, yet here I am doing it again.

+.+.+

The day she wed Robert Baratheon, thousands had turned out to cheer for them. All the women wore their best, and half the men had children on their shoulders. When she had emerged from inside the sept, hand in hand with the young king, the crowd sent up a roar so loud it could be heard in Lannisport. "They like you well, my lady," Robert whispered in her ear. "See, every face is smiling." For that one short moment she had been happy in her marriage . . . until she chanced to glance at Jaime. No, she remembered thinking, not every face, my lord.

Doomed before they even made it out of the sept.

+.+.+

No one was smiling now. The looks the sparrows gave her were dull, sullen, hostile. They made way but reluctantly. If they were truly sparrows, a shout would send them flying. A hundred gold cloaks with staves and swords and maces could clear this rabble quick enough. That was what Lord Tywin would have done. He would have ridden over them instead of walking through.

What else would he do, Cersei?

Lord Tywin would not have bothered with a search. He would have burned that town and every living creature in it. Men and boys, babes at the breast, noble knights and holy septons, pigs and whores, rats and rebels, he would have burned them all. - The Griffin Reborn, ADWD

+.+.+

"We ask no vengeance for our dead," said the one-legged man, "only protection for the living. For the septs and holy places."

"The Iron Throne must defend the Faith," growled a hulking lout with a seven-pointed star painted on his brow. "A king who does not protect his people is no king at all."

This always feels like a Jon shoutout.

+.+.+

But as she made her way through the press to the steps of the sept, a gaggle of armed men stepped out to block the doors. They wore mail and boiled leather, with here and there a bit of dinted plate. Some had spears and some had longswords. More favored axes, and had sewn red stars upon their bleached white surcoats. Two had the insolence to cross their spears and bar her way.

"Is this how you receive your queen?" she demanded of them.

Blocking the Queen Regent from entering. That's pretty outrageous.

Red flag, Cersei. Red flag.

+.+.+

"You are welcome here, but your men must leave their swordbelts. No weapons are allowed within, by command of the High Septon."

"Knights of the Kingsguard do not set aside their swords, not even in the presence of the king."

"In the king's house, the king's word must rule," replied the aged knight, "but this is the house of the gods."

They don't answer to kings, they answer to their gods.

Cersei? 🚩🚩🚩

+.+.+

"I do not see my friend Septon Torbert."

"Septon Torbert has been confined to a penitent's cell on bread and water. It is sinful for any man to be so plump when half the realm is starving."

The flag, Cersei. It's red.

+.+.+

"We have no crown, Your Grace."

Her frown deepened. "My lord father gave your predecessor a crown of rare beauty, wrought in crystal and spun gold."

"And for that gift we honor him in our prayers," the High Septon said, "but the poor need food in their bellies more than we need gold and crystal on our head. That crown has been sold. So have the others in our vaults, and all our rings, and our robes of cloth-of-gold and cloth-of-silver. Wool will keep a man as warm. That is why the Seven gave us sheep."

Haaaaahaha, fuck you Tywin.

+.+.+

He is utterly mad. The Most Devout must have been mad as well, to elevate this creature . . . mad, or terrified of the beggars at their doors. Qyburn's whisperers claimed that Septon Luceon had been nine votes from elevation when those doors had given way, and the sparrows came pouring into the Great Sept with their leader on their shoulders and their axes in their hands.

Cersei, I'm begging you.

+.+.+

Incense sweetened the air, and beside the seven altars candles shone like stars. A thousand twinkled for the Mother and near as many for the Maid, but you could count the Stranger's candles on two hands and still have fingers left.

Since we're in a sept, I'll pray this isn't the Arya foreshadowing I think it is.

+.+.+

At the Mother's altar, a septon was leading a hundred sparrows in prayer, their voices as distant as waves upon the shore. The High Septon led Cersei to where the Crone raised her lantern. When he knelt before the altar, she had no choice but to kneel beside him. 

Hahaha, he took her to the Crone instead of the Mother.

+.+.+

"Night soil can be washed away more easily than blood, Your Grace. If the plaza was befouled, it was befouled by the execution that was done here."

He dares throw Ned Stark in my face? "We all regret that. Joffrey was young, and not as wise as he might have been. Lord Stark should have been beheaded elsewhere, out of respect for Blessed Baelor . . . but the man was a traitor, let us not forget."

"King Baelor forgave those who conspired against him."

CERSEI. PLEASE.

+.+.+

"War is a dreadful thing. These atrocities are the work of the northmen, and of Lord Stannis and his demon-worshipers."

"Some of my sparrows speak of bands of lions who despoiled them . . . and of the Hound, who was your own sworn man. At Saltpans he slew an aged septon and despoiled a girl of twelve, an innocent child promised to the Faith. He wore his armor as he raped her and her tender flesh was torn and crushed by his iron mail. When he was done he gave her to his men, who cut off her nose and nipples."

(I apologize for making you read that.)

CERSEI. LISTEN.

+.+.+

"As you say. Yet it must be asked—where were the king's knights when these things were being done? Did not Jaehaerys the Conciliator once swear upon the Iron Throne itself that the crown would always protect and defend the Faith?"

Cersei had no idea what Jaehaerys the Conciliator might have sworn. "He did," she agreed

Having no idea is kicking her ass right now.

When Ser Joffrey and Lady Lucinda urged him to undo his uncle Maegor's decrees and reinstate the Swords and Stars, Jaehaerys refused firmly. "The Faith has no need of swords," he declared. "They have my protection. The protection of the Iron Throne." He did, however, rescind the bounties that Maegor had promised for the heads of Warrior's Sons and Poor Fellows. "I shall not wage war against my own people," he said, "but neither shall I tolerate treason and rebellion." - Fire & Blood

He swore the crown would always protect and defend the faith so they would remain disarmed.

+.+.+

It is traditional for every new High Septon to give the king his blessing . . . and yet you have refused to bless King Tommen."

"Your Grace is mistaken. We have not refused."

"You have not come."

"The hour is not yet ripe."

Are you a priest or a greengrocer? "And what might I do to make it . . . riper?" If he dares mention gold, I will deal with this one as I did the last and find a pious eight-year-old to wear the crystal crown.

pleasepleaseplease.

+.+.+

"The realm is full of kings. For the Faith to exalt one above the rest we must be certain. Three hundred years ago, when Aegon the Dragon landed beneath this very hill, the High Septon locked himself within the Starry Sept of Oldtown and prayed for seven days and seven nights, taking no nourishment but bread and water. When he emerged he announced that the Faith would not oppose Aegon and his sisters, for the Crone had lifted up her lamp to show him what lay ahead. If Oldtown took up arms against the Dragon, Oldtown would burn, and the Hightower and the Citadel and the Starry Sept would be cast down and destroyed. Lord Hightower was a godly man. When he heard the prophecy, he kept his strength at home and opened the city gates to Aegon when he came. And His High Holiness anointed the Conqueror with the seven oils. I must do as he did, three hundred years ago. I must pray, and fast."

Is this. . . something?

+.+.+

Cersei itched to slap his solemn, pious face. I could help you fast, she thought. I could shut you up in some tower and see that no one brings you food until the gods have spoken.

You first!

+.+.+

"Give Tommen your blessing, and he shall put an end to these outrages."

"And how shall he do that, Your Grace? Will he send a knight to walk the roads with every begging brother? Will he give us men to guard our septas against the wolves and lions?"

I will pretend you did not mention lions.

Why are you pretending? He mentioned lions! HE MENTIONED LIONS.

+.+.+

"The realm is at war. His Grace has need of every man." Cersei did not intend to squander Tommen's strength playing wet nurse to sparrows, or guarding the wrinkled cunts of a thousand sour septas. Half of them are probably praying for a good raping. 

Oof.

+.+.+

"Your sparrows have clubs and axes. Let them defend themselves."

"King Maegor's laws prohibit that, as Your Grace must know. It was by his decree that the Faith laid down its swords."

It's a trap! IT'S A TRAP.

He wants you to think this is your idea! IT'S NOT YOUR IDEA.

+.+.+

"Tommen is king now, not Maegor." What did she care what Maegor the Cruel had decreed three hundred years ago? Instead of taking the swords out of the hands of the faithful, he should have used them for his own ends. She pointed to where the Warrior stood above his altar of red marble. "What is that he holds?"

"A sword."

"Has he forgotten how to use it?"

"Maegor's laws—"

"—could be undone." She let that hang there, waiting for the High Sparrow to rise to the bait.

He did not disappoint her. "The Faith Militant reborn . . . that would be the answer to three hundred years of prayer, Your Grace. The Warrior would lift his shining sword again and cleanse this sinful realm of all its evil. If His Grace were to allow me to restore the ancient blessed orders of the Sword and Star, every godly man in the Seven Kingdoms would know him to be our true and rightful lord."

You're not casting the bait! YOU'RE NOT CASTING THE BAIT.

What did she care what Maegor the Cruel had decreed three hundred years ago?

omg.

+.+.+

That was sweet to hear, but Cersei took care not to seem too eager. "Your High Holiness spoke of forgiveness earlier. In these troubled times, King Tommen would be most grateful if you could see your way to forgiving the crown's debt. It seems to me we owe the Faith some nine hundred thousand dragons."

He's not forgiving anything! He already knows you never intend to pay! HE ALREADY KNOWS.

+.+.+

The High Septon pondered that a moment. "As you wish. This debt shall be forgiven, and King Tommen will have his blessing. The Warrior's Sons shall escort me to him, shining in the glory of their Faith, whilst my sparrows go forth to defend the meek and humble of the land, reborn as Poor Fellows as of old."

oh no.

+.+.+

The High Septon made a steeple of his hands and raised his eyes to heaven. "Let the wicked tremble!"

Do you hear that, Lord Stannis? Cersei could not help but smile. Even her lord father could have done no better. At a stroke, she had rid King's Landing of the plague of sparrows, secured Tommen's blessing, and lessened the crown's debt by close to a million dragons. Her heart was soaring as she allowed the High Septon to escort her back to the Hall of Lamps.

But he never said anything about Stannis! THERE WAS NO MENTION OF STANNIS.

Tommen won't even get his blessing! THERE WILL BE NO BLESSING.

+.+.+

"The Warrior's Sons were an order of knights who gave up their lands and gold and swore their swords to His High Holiness. The Poor Fellows . . . they were humbler, though far more numerous. Begging brothers of a sort, though they carried axes instead of bowls. They wandered the roads, escorting travelers from sept to sept and town to town. Their badge was the seven-pointed star, red on white, so the smallfolk named them Stars. The Warrior's Sons wore rainbow cloaks and inlaid silver armor over hair shirts, and bore star-shaped crystals in the pommels of their longswords. They were the Swords. Holy men, ascetics, fanatics, sorcerers, dragonslayers, demonhunters . . . there were many tales about them. But all agree that they were implacable in their hatred for all enemies of the Holy Faith."

Holy shit, Lancel is going to kill Drogon.

No but really, is this important? I've spent all my research time looking for red flag gifs.

+.+.+

"We have been picking autumn flowers in the kingswood," she told them.

I know where you were, the queen thought. Her informers were very good about keeping her apprised of Margaery's movements. Such a restless girl, our little queen. She seldom let more than three days pass without going off for a ride. 

[...]

Wherever she went, the smallfolk fawned on her, and Lady Margaery did all she could to fan their ardor. She was forever giving alms to beggars, buying hot pies off bakers' carts, and reining up to speak to common tradesmen.

Had it been up to her, she would have had Tommen doing all these things as well. 

[...]

But the king was deaf to sense, thanks to his little queen. "If we mingle with the commons, they will love us better."

I can't believe this kid is smarter than the whole god damn family.

+.+.+

Every day in every way she tries to steal him from me. Joffrey would have seen through her schemer's smile and let her know her place, but Tommen was more gullible. She knew Joff was too strong for her, Cersei thought, remembering the gold coin Qyburn had found. For House Tyrell to hope to rule, he had to be removed. 

A broken clock, yada yada yada.

+.+.+

It came back to her that Margaery and her hideous grandmother had once plotted to marry Sansa Stark to the little queen's crippled brother Willas. Lord Tywin had forestalled that by stealing a march on them and wedding Sansa to Tyrion, but the link had been there. They are all in it together, she realized with a start. The Tyrells bribed the gaolers to free Tyrion, and whisked him down the roseroad to join his vile bride. By now the both of them are safe in Highgarden, hidden away behind a wall of roses.

What are you talking about? The Tyrells pushed hardest for Sansa and Tyrion to be executed.

So close, yet so far.

+.+.+

In the early years of their marriage, Robert was forever imploring her to hunt with him, but Cersei had always begged off. His hunting trips allowed her time with Jaime. 

Nice try author, but you're not going to convince me Robert was a decent husband.

+.+.+

Margaery smiled at Ser Loras; a sweet sisterly smile, full of fondness. "Your Grace is kind to fear for me, but my brother keeps me well protected."

Go and hunt, Cersei had urged Robert, half a hundred times. My brother keeps me well protected. She recalled what Taena had told her earlier, and a laugh came bursting from her lips.

"Your Grace laughs so prettily." Lady Margaery gave her a quizzical smile. "Might we share the jest?"

"You will," the queen said. "I promise you, you will."

Doesn't she abandon the Loras x Margaery fake news plans? Similar to the Jon Snow thing, it feels like this fizzled out.

Final thoughts:

Maybe arming extremists won't be a disaster? I can't wait to find out.

Hey, did you know, like, 28% of the fandom believes the High Sparrow is Howland Reed?

Is that the least surprising thing you've ever heard?

-> return to menu <-

[moonwaterart]

OMG! Love the idea of a COTL tarot deck! Which Bishops did you choose for which major arcana?!!? I NEED TO KNOW!!

oh damn! Didn't think people would actually be interested, but I'll tell you what I chose and why. Buckle up cause this will be a long answer with a lot of spoilers. I'll put it under a 'Read More' button so you guys don't have to deal with it if you don't want.

The Lamb/Lambert is represented by The Fool

The Fool corilates with fresh starts, new beginnings, innocence and freedom to just be. If pulled in a reverse form it represents recklessness, being taken advantage of and inconsideration.

When we first start playing, The Lamb is bound in shackles and sent to death, but upon their demise is given a chance to live again in exchange for the power to cheat death. During this time, the lamb is innocent of crime, they were sent to death souly for being born the animal they were. They were given a 'new beginning' in a sense when it came to helping The One Who Waits.

At the same time, their innocent nature is taken advantage of by The One Who Waits. He plays into revenge for the lamb in exchange for his freedom while not fully telling the lamb his full end goal. Throughout the course of the game, the lamb can run into many different NPCs and recruitable characters whom they give a second chance to and to most signal a new beginning. A time without The Old Faith. When they're told to give up the crown they have a choice to fight The One Who Waits because the lamb (and by extent, the player) comes to the realization that they are wanted and needed. If they gave up the powers they were given, what would happen to those they helped and gave hope to?

The One Who Waits/Narinder is represented by Death

It could be argued I chose this card because he is the god of death, but that's actually not the real reason I went with that card in the end.

The Death card represents change, beginnings and an end to a cycle/chapter in your life. Reversed it represents the fear of change, refusal to let go, and decay.

We get to know much about Narinder until we get further along in the game. We come to find out his relationships with the old bishops and learn why he became known as 'The One Who Waits Below' or 'The Chained One'. He had a lust for power to the point where he was trying to figure out forbidden rituals that even the Old Gods never used because they would more or less unbalance the nature of the world. His change into a god changed him from who he once was.

When The Lamb defeats him and spares him, he's bitter, holding a grudge towards the lamb and he will always try to dissent from what I've learned. He's hot headed and thinks The Lamb is too soft.

If The Lamb doesn't spare him and in fact kills him, his last words will be about how they are so much like him and that they only became a monster. A wolf in sheeps clothing.

He will comment as well that you were right to get rid of Ratau if you feed the rat to The Fox on your 4th and final nightly visit to them. He wants to be in power and hates weakness as he believes it means youre putting an end to a cycle which he refuses to let go of.

Leshy is represented by The Devil

The Devil represents addiction, playfulness and materialism. Reversed it means freedom, release and a restoration of control.

Little is known about the bishops of the old faith, but from what is known he is the youngest of the 5 original bishops and he is a god of chaos. With the bishops, this is more or less headcanons, so with Leshy, I see him as the chaotic sibling. He’s playful and has a teasing nature. He’s the adrenaline junkie always diving headfirst into situations that sometimes need some thought put into it. He’s also the one to try new things first.

After what happened with Narinder, he became less of a risk taker, closing himself off. He also became a lot more possessive of what he’d make and has a horde of belongings from his followers stashed away underground. The need for more became addicting and soon all he wanted was more.

Heket is represented by Strength

The Strength card represents inner strength, compassion and bravery. Reversed it means weakness, self doubt and insecurity.

Heket is the second youngest bishop and only female of them. She takes on a sisterly role of making sure they’re alright. She’s strong outwardly as well as mentally. Though when she talks she can be a bit harsh in her tone. She was the one to pull her siblings out of trouble when they found themselves in it.

After what happened with Narinder, her tone and attitude became hostile. She would rather snap at everyone and everything rather then listen, even bullying her brothers when she thought they were being too soft. Although she couldn’t talk very well she needed to be the loudest in the room because she thought people would find her weak if she allowed herself to rest. Forgetting her own needs in turn.

Kallamar is represented by Temperance

Temperance represents the middle path, patience and finding meaning in things around you. Reversed it means extremes, lack of balance and excessiveness.

Kallamar is known as cowardly, but has been shown to be a competent swordsman. Before everything, he was the sensitive soul who took time to listen when his siblings had something on their mind. He was willing to learn and listen to anyone and everyone around him.

After Narinder’s imprisonment, he lost his hearing, only being able to hear if people were near him or they were yelling. It caused him to become skittish and jumpy, lashing out at those around him and catastrophizing every little thing. It’s the reason he went all out and pulled out all the stops when The Lamb fought him.

Shamura is represented by Judgement

The Judgement card represents reflection, awakening and reckoning. Reversed it means doubt, lack of self awareness and self loathing.

Shamura is the oldest of the 5 bishops. They’re the one who raised them all and the most knowledgeable of them. Always thinking before they act, Shamura would always have something of value to add to a conversation.

After Narinder’s banishment, they became irrational, their emotions flip flopping almost on a dime and having brain fog more often then not. In game though, Shamura does mention how much they loved Narinder and how much that clouded their judgement and what made Narinder into who he became. They hate what had happened and what will happen because they blame themself for everything.

And that’s all the arcana I assigned to the bishops, Narinder and The Lamb! I’m hoping to get the sketches of each done soon :)

Thanks for the interest in the tarot project! I’m actually very surprised the CotL dev team didn’t do a tarot deck as official merch. Maybe if this gets popular enough, they’ll see the project. Who knows.

[ohgodsalazarwhy]

lambskel almost freezing to death

One of the suggestions from kind anon.  Sorry I’m rusty but it felt good to write again.  I’ll probably do some of the other ones too.

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

He was late.

He was fucking late because he was fucking greedy and needed just one more contract before heading North.  Lambert shielded himself with a held Quen but it wouldn’t be long before the blizzard overcame his sign.  He needed shelter and he needed to wait out this initial storm to finish his trip up to Kaer Morhen.  Geralt and Eskel were probably already there, drinking mulled wine and eating freshly baked bread while this blizzard pounded on the gates.

Those miserable sons of bitches.

Lambert grit his teeth, feeling blood trickle from his nose as he forced himself to continue holding Quen.  His signs had never been as strong as Eskel’s, or even Geralt’s, and it was taking everything he had to maintain even this measly barrier against the onslaught of snow and freezing wind.  Without it he would almost certainly die.  Lambert slogged through the deep snow bank, leaving the road and taking a chance on a cave he thought he remembered in the area.  It was his last chance.

His jaw hurt from clenching it, his mouth and chin were covered in blood as his nose continued to drip.  Lambert imagined Kaer Morhen.  He pictured Eskel laughing as he played cards, a wry smile stretching the scars on his face.  He pictured the hearth chasing away the merciless cold, the smell of food cooking in the kitchen.  Even Vesemir scolding him for some bullshit.  Lambert had never asked to be a witcher, and he’d swear up and down every day that he’d rather be dead than live this miserable life.

Yet he couldn’t give up, either.  One foot in front of another.  Each step more laborious than the next as Quen sucked up all his strength and left him trembling from exhaustion.  There was shelter ahead, he was sure of it, he just needed to reach it.  Eskel was at Kaer Morhen.  Eskel would give him a hard time for setting up the mountain so late, he’d say Lambert you moron you should have stayed away, spent the winter elsewhere.  But for all his bitching and moaning, Kaer Morhen was where Eskel was, so it was where Lambert always returned.

The wind howled like a wolf and the violent gust shattered Quen and sent Lambert crashing into the snow.  It almost immediately began to bury him, but the breaking of his sign had been the final blow.  He stared blearily up into the darkness, the snow almost hypnotizing.  No witcher ever died in his bed, but this wasn’t how Lambert had pictured himself dying.  So close to the only home he’d ever known.  So close they’d probably find his body as they returned to the Path in the Spring.

Fuck he wouldn’t wish that on them, but he was so tired he couldn’t bring himself to get up.  The cold was seeping into his bones, his armor growing wet and heavy.  The snow was so soft under him... his eyes drooped.  Lambert thought he heard a snort but the storm was so loud it was probably his imagination.  The last thing he felt before he gave up consciousness was something brushing his forehead and a soft whinny.

Cold.  So fucking cold it was like being stabbed with a thousand knives.  Lambert flinched away as he was grabbed and a familiar, deep, voice swore and said, “Hold still!”

“Eskel?” Lambert slurred it out, his lips felt frozen shut and when he tried to open his eyes he realized they were iced shut.  He shakily reached up to rub the ice away and saw Eskel leaning over him with a scowl.  

“What the hell, Lambert?”

“What the hell yourself!”  Lambert tried to sit up but his wet leathers were stiff and frozen and he struggled to fight against them.  Eskel didn’t let him, shoving him back into the dirt and angrily undoing belts and ties to start stripping him naked.  Lambert didn’t fight him, didn’t really have the energy.  He wiped at the tacky blood on his mouth and chin, smearing it into his beard and over his hand.  

“I wasn’t even going to go up the mountain until I saw your tracks!” Eskel said, when he was really furious he would lower his voice.  It made him sound like thunder in a summer storm.

“I thought you were already up there,” Lambert said defensively.  “And I didn’t know this fucking blizzard was rolling through.”

Eskel glared at him, tossing aside Lambert’s jacket.  “It’s too late in the season, you would have died if I hadn’t followed you.  You don’t even have a fucking horse!”

“Horse died, didn’t bother to get another one.”  Lambert felt a little nauseous, overusing his signs did that to him.  Being hungover without any of the fun.  Eskel got him naked and wrapped him up in a woolen saddle pad and only then did he leave Lambert’s side to pile up some dry wood stacked in the back of the cave and hit it with an Igni.  It flared up into a powerful fire in an instant.  In another lifetime perhaps Eskel would have been a sorcerer.

Lambert shivered and tried to snort congealed blood out of his nostrils.  Eskel’s horse was standing towards the back of the cave, tail swishing lazily.  They were in the middle, couldn’t be too far back with a fire and couldn’t be too far forward without freezing.  Snow was piled high at the front of the cave and they’d no doubt need to keep at least some part of the entrance dug out to prevent the smoke from the fire asphyxiating them.

Eskel was soaking wet as well, his expression stormy as he dug through his saddle bags, pulling out dried meat and fruit.  Lambert thought about asking if he had any booze but thought better of it.  Contrary to what they all thought, he did know when to keep his mouth shut.  He usually just chose not to.

“Can’t believe you,” Eskel was muttering under his breath, Lambert could hear him clear as day.  “Going up here this late.  You know better.”

“Oh shut up and take your clothes off before you freeze in them.”

Eskel curled his lip but Lambert was right and they both knew it.  He angrily stripped and stormed over to sit next to Lambert, dropping the food at his feet.  “Eat.” he said curtly.  “And keep your mouth shut.  I’m furious.”

Lambert unfolded the woolen saddle pad and it just barely covered both their shoulders as they were forced to huddle in close.  Eskel’s skin was cold where it met his but as the fire crackled and Lambert devoured the fruit and meat, he could feel himself, and Eskel, warming.  Only once he’d finished all the food did Lambert speak.

“The storm’ll clear, we’re passed the halfway point in the valley so we’ll be fine.”

The look Eskel gave him told Lambert that his seemingly diplomatic statement had somehow been the worst thing to say.  He preemptively bristled defensively, preparing for a blow out fight only for Eskel to deflate and look away.

“You were dying.  A few moments later and maybe...”

“...and maybe a dragon would have swooped down and carried me back to its lair.”

“I’m being serious,” Eskel snapped.

“So am I!” Lambert snarled, lips pulled back from his teeth which were stained red with his own blood.  “For fuckssake, Eskel! Pull yourself together!  Maybe this, maybe that, blah blah blah! I’m fucking fine because you followed me.”

“You’re such a piece of shit,” Eskel growled.  He dropped his head into his hands and gripped his hair tightly.  Lambert could tell he was one push away from starting a fight.

“You like that about me,” Lambert taunted, leaning in until his lips were brushing Eskel’s ear.  He slid one arm around Eskel’s waist, fingers trailing along a scar on his hip.

“No one likes that about you,” countered Eskel, turning his head so their noses brushed, foreheads pressed together.  “I should have left you in the snow.”

“But’cha didn’t.” He grinned and closed the distance, kissing Eskel just like he’d dreamed of doing since they’d parted ways last Spring.  Every year he fought to survive and it was because of this big bastard.  

Eskel groaned into the kiss and in a second Lambert was shoved down, the pad trapped beneath him as Eskel pinned him.  He was so fucking strong, even for a Witcher.  Lambert didn’t care that he felt like shit, didn’t care that he’d nearly died; he had Eskel’s naked body draped over him and that was all that mattered.  The kiss broke all too soon, and when Lambert tried to sit up for more a hand on his throat pinned him down.  Eskel’s expression was serious, only the slightest flush over his cheeks.  

“We’re only going to sleep.”

“To hell with that,” Lambert growled, sliding one leg up between Eskel’s thick thighs.  “I’ve waited all fucking year for you-” he grunted as he was rolled onto his stomach and pinned down by Eskel’s greater weight.

“You’re exhausted and so am I from following your dumbass up the mountain in a blizzard.”  Eskel leaned down and nuzzled gently against Lambert’s temple.  “Please,” he whispered.  Eskel wasn’t fighting fair.  Lambert had a hard time denying him when he got all vulnerable and honest and shit.

“Fine.” He huffed and turned his head to the side, looking at Eskel from the corner of his eye.  “Let me up, I’ll be a good boy.”

Eskel’s expression was wry as he pushed himself up just enough to let Lambert roll onto his back again.  He settled down against him, their warmth and the warmth of the fire chasing away the deadly chill.  Lambert shifted until he had his head pillowed on Eskel’s chest, listening to his slow heartbeat.  This was home to him.  He’d made it.  Survived another year despite himself.  He fell asleep to the sound of Eskel’s gentle breathing and steady heartbeat.

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Tender Love and Care part 13

Masterlist

The room had been quiet for some time now. You were unsure how much time had passed without being able to see the window or any of the clocks. You had asked the castle attendant that had been wheeling you around to help you into a chair that was in the corner of your room. The two of you had not gotten very far however, frustrating you greatly. So you were forced to stay in bed.

You were laying on your side, weekly hugging some of the pillows to your chest. You were afraid should you ask for helping sitting against the headboard, you may lose your balance and fall to the side with no way to right yourself.

The door creaked slightly as you heard someone enter the room, followed by a short gasp from a male.

When he had gotten the notice that you were home your father had stopped everything. This would have been his response typically as he had not seen your in a century or more. Hearing you were sick however expedited his travel greatly. He was not expecting what was on the other side of your door.

You were huddled in on yourself. Gaunt in the face. Veins prominent under your skin as your traitorous blood turned them black. Eyes hazy as they stared off at nothing. He might have thought he was too late if it weren’t for the horrendous sound of ragged and pained breathing that came from you. The sound was a wheeze followed by a whimper and it made your father’s knees want to give out from under him.

“Who’s there” you called out, the strength lost in your voice. Your father rushed over as you struggled to turn onto your back. Atrophied muscles shaking with the great force it took for you to turn over.

“It’s me June-bug, it’s me I’m here” your father’s comforting voice echoed above you. If you could have mustered up the strength you would have cried tears of joy at hearing him again. And then tears of sadness because you could not see his shining eyes peering at you.

“Papa” you felt him clasp your hand in his own. “I’m sorry”

“What on earth are you apologizing for little one?” his voice was kind, sweetness laced in it, but not enough to hide the sadness that lay underneath.

“We’re never going to finish reading the books in the library” You heard a small sob fight it’s way out of your father’s mouth as he fought to keep his composure. He sat on the bed, maneuvering you so you were leaned against his chest. Your head under his chin as held you. Cradling you.

“Oh June-bug I should have never let you go. I’m so so sorry.” When you made no response, your father tried to rouse you.

“June-bug?” your eyes did not open. Your breathing now the only indication your were still with him. Losing the fight to stay conscious. You father cradled your head, burying his face into your hair.

And he wept.

~

It had taken some time for the boys to find the fairy ring in the forest outside the keep. Jaskier had only had a vague idea of where it was located. The weather was fair however and aard turned out to be quite useful as a snow clearing mechanism. Soon enough the tell-tale mushrooms stood in stark contrast to the winter snow and barren earth beneath them.  

“You’re sure about staying behind?” Jaskier had aimed the question at Geralt who had decided to stay at the keep to watch over the animals.

“You said yourself time works a little differently there. I would hate to come back and find everyone starving.” The group nodded at him, Lambert, Vesemir, Eskel and Jaskier all gathering around the circle.

“Just come back in one piece” Lambert and Vesemir smiled at the comment, but Eskel was too focused. This was it, his chance to see you again. His chance to have you home in his arms once more. He prayed to every deity that would listen that he made it to you in time.

Jaskier held out his hands, under normal circumstances the Witchers may have grumbled about this—Lambert looked like he still might—but they all relented and took one another’s hands. In one moment, they were all stepping into the circle and the next. Gone.

The feeling of transporting was unlike what Eskel had expected. He had thought it would be like the magic portal’s mages used. A rush or feeling of unease as reality pulled and shifted around you, but it wasn’t. In fact, it felt like nothing. If it weren’t for the change of scenery from a snowy forest to a barren field he would have thought nothing had happened. Anxiety left him as he let go of the hands he had been holding. Everyone was here in one piece. Lambert’s hair-brained scheme had worked. He was going to come find you.

“So where is she?” Lambert was the first to step out the circle, followed by everyone else.

“She’s there.” Jaskier pointed to a castle off in the distance, surrounded by a great and mighty labyrinth.

“What! She’s all the way out there? I thought this thing was supposed to take us to y/n?” Lambert was unhappily stopping around the field, his boots pulling grass as he went along.

“I said it would take us to the nearest fairy ring to her, which is here. Don’t worry it’s shorter than you think. “ Jaskier began walking to a grand gate, a pond quietly splashing on either side. The three Witcher’s followed.

“This is one hell of a security system for a castle” Vesemir quietly commented as the door closed on it’s own accord behind them.

“That’s the thing” Jaskier let out an amused hum. “It’s not for the castle, this is the whole kingdom.”

“The whole kingdom is one giant maze?” Lambert questioned.

Jaskier hummed in amusement, walking straight into a passageway hidden into a wall and veering left.

“Oh and one more thing” Jaskier turned to the posse behind him. “I’ll ask that you” he gestured vaguely with his hand at the group. “Contain your witcher-ly urges while were here. Some of the denizens here may look ‘monsterly’ to you. But rest assured everyone here is harmless….. mostly” The last word was hushed as Jaskier turned around and headed forward. All three of the witchers side eyed one another before continuing.

Eskel was amazed as he followed Jaskier. The walls of the maze seemed to move ‘around’ him. The path clearing of obstacles on there own accord. He swore he had only been walking 10 minute but the castle looked miles closer. In naught but a quarter of an hour they were at the gates to a city. The doors held open by chains.

Jaskier’s face began to sour as he walked further.

“I don’t like this” he said stopping by a fountain to look around.

“What do you mean?” Vesemir asked, picking up on the fact that Eskel had not said a word the whole trip.

“This place is usually bustling; you can’t walk three feet without bumping into someone.” Jaskier looked at the ground a moment before picking his head up once more.

“We should hurry”.

The group followed the bard swiftly. “Damn the bard can run’ Eskel thought as they climbed staircase after staircase. The pathway’s unusually clear for an apparently active castle. Eskel quickly found out why.

Jaskier stopped as a hall was crowded with the castle’s various attendants. All of them watching the door at it’s end with rapt attention. Once their presence was made known they all cleared a path, moving out of the way much like the walls of the maze had. Eskel’s mind was set on the door. Sprinting behind Jaskier they ran to it.

You were behind the door.

He was going to see you again.

This was finally it.

The door burst open as Jaskier and Eskel entered, Vesemir and Lambert standing in the doorway.

In front of them was a bed, two figures, a man and a woman, sat on either side of it. Both teary eyed as they stared at the figure prone on it. The commotion of the door had grabbed their attention. The woman speaking.

“Julian!” Both figures made there way up toward Jaskier.

“Mom, dad” Jaskier embraced his parents, but Eskel’s eyes were elsewhere.

Laying there was you. Skin taught and figure ghostly. Jaskier’s descriptions of the illness had not prepared Eskel to see you. It looked as if a monster had sucked the very soul out of you and left nothing but dark angry marks in its wake.

Eskel slowly made his way toward you. Unbeknownst to him, Jaskier was silently holding back your parents from returning to there seats.

“y/n” he knelt next to your side. Brushing the side of your face with the back of his fingers.

“I’m here y/n, I found you. We all did. Lambert, Vesemir were here. We need you love. I need you” Eskel had to stop to take a breath.

“Y/n, if you can hear me, please know every morning I’ve woken up without you has been a nightmare, a nightmare I created and I would do anything to fix. Y/n my life…. was nothing but dark. Stumbling around in the night with nothing to guide me. And then this brilliant piece of starlight found me. You gave me something to live for. Please” Eskel bowed his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your meager frame.

“I can’t live in darkness anymore. Please, please don’t leave me alone here.”

And Eskel did something he thought he couldn’t do.

He cried.

Not unshed tears in the eyes.

Tears, unfettered by mutations, flowed down, and stained the blankets beneath him.

Eskel cursed those mutations more than ever now as he heard your heart slow and slow.

And stop.

Taglist

@writingmysanity @ab-haya @just-a-sad-donut @seidenbros @deliciousblackfatcat @bushtail

[queenxxxsupreme]

A/N: This is part 2 to this ask. 

Warnings: Lambert and his child surprise have an awkward relationship because the relationship doesn’t really exist, nothing outside of canon for the show or the game

Word Count: 

Summary: Lambert struggles with his new responsiblity over his Child Surprise. 

***

Though it was the dead of night, the forest couldn’t have been anymore alive. Cicadas, crickets, and frogs chirped, their songs echoing around the woods. An occasional fox or small pack of coyotes would run parallel to the road before darting off deeper into the forest. 

The witcher and his Child Surprise had been traveling for three days without stopping to rest. He didn’t want to chance anyone searching for you and he figured putting as much space between your home and the both of you was best. 

But this meant that neither of you had gotten proper sleep in days. Lambert hadn’t slept at all, and you only took a short naps here and there when your eyelids were too heavy and even the discomfort of Champion’s saddle couldn’t keep you awake. 

Lambert could feel your arms start to loosen around his waist. You were beginning to fall asleep.

He let out a sigh, one gloved hand coming up to rub his eyes. He was exhausted and though he knew he could push himself to stay awake longer, he didn’t want to keep going on such little sleep with a child in his care. You didn’t deserve that sort of temper from him. 

So the witcher directed his stallion off of the path and into the woods, taking the horse into the direction of the running water. 

Once he found the river the road followed, Lambert continued on until a nice bend hidden by thick bushes and out of sight of the road came into view. 

“Hey, kid?” He looked over his shoulder, his words quiet so as to not scare you. You didn’t seem to budge though. “Kid? Wake up.” He moved his shoulder a bit, giving you a nudge. 

You jolted, immediately lifting your head from his shoulder and rubbing your eyes with the back of your knuckles. 

“What?”

“We’re gonna make camp here for a little while.” 

You looked around, silently taking in the scene. 

“Come on. I’ll set out my bedroll and go start getting wood to make a small fire.” Lambert held his hand out for you to take so that you could get down easily from the tall horse. 

“Won’t that attract people?”

“It could, but I don’t want you getting sick from the cold. We’ve still gotta find you clothes.”

The cloak and nightgown you wore could only keep you so warm. 

Lambert got down from Champion and tethered him to a tree, then began to get out the bedroll. 

You watched him for a few moments, messing nervously with your fingers. 

You had never slept outside in the elements before. The very thought of laying on the ground where there could be all sorts of bugs and slithering things made you shiver. 

Lambert briefly looked up at you, taking note of how you seemed to be lost. You were still shaken up from what had happened three days ago, though it was no surprise you weren’t “over it.” You had been kidnapped from your house by terrifying men that your father employed and now you could never go back to the only safe place you knew, to the only home you ever knew. You had to stay with a man who had explicitly stated his desire to stay away from you on more than one occasion. 

“There.” Lambert stood up, brushing his hands off as he looked over the bedroll. It wasn’t perfect, but it would work for the night. “I’m, uh, I’m going to get some firewood.”

You said nothing in reply, your palms pressing together at your waist as you gazed down at the bedroll. 

He waited a few moments before realizing you weren’t going to speak to him. You were in your head, lost to whatever thoughts caused the blank stare in your eyes. 

The witcher disappeared into the bushes without another word. 

You didn’t fully realize he was gone for a couple minutes. 

You looked around, ears straining to hear anything that sounded like a person. 

Cicadas. Frogs. Raccoons. But no footsteps of a person. 

You moved towards the bedroll, bringing your hands up to rub your face. However before you could fully rub your face, you saw just how dirty your hands were. 

Your feet took you to the edge of the river where you knelt down to wash them off. You cupped your hands together and brought the cool water up to your face. 

It had been far too long since you had properly bathed and this was nothing close to what you needed, but it would have to do. Who knew when you’d be able to actually bathe. 

That thought alone brought tears to your eyes. 

What had your life come to? Just a few days ago you lived in a good home, a manor far too big for just yourself and your father, and you had all the food you could ever need. You had servants and maids to look after you, to tend to your every need. 

Now your life couldn’t have been further from what it was. 

Lambert emerged from the bushes with an armful of wood. His eyes went to the bedroll, hoping to find you asleep. But instead the bedroll was empty. 

You were knelt by the river side on your knees, your hands bracing the grassy edge of the riverbank. Your shoulders gently shook as you sobbed. 

“Fuck.” He cursed. He placed the wood down and debated on going back into the woods. 

He didn’t know how to handle a crying fourteen-year-old girl. Prior to three days ago, he had never been around a fourteen-year-old long enough to know what to do. 

Lambert awkwardly wiped his hands off on his pant legs and took a few steps towards you. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Piss off.” You grumbled over your shoulder, your hand coming up to rub your face. 

He didn’t push the matter any further. Lambert himself didn’t like to be messed with when he was in a similar way, so he figured you just wanted the same. 

The witcher retreated to make the fire, then he sat down at the fire, occasionally watching you. 

You remained kneeling at the edge of the water, but after a few minutes, you stood up and went to sit across from him on the bedroll. 

“I didn’t know my father hated me so much that he would let something so horrible happen to me.” You whispered. 

Lambert’s eyes flickered down to the fire. He cleared his throat, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Did they do anything to you?”

The tension in the air is thick and awkward. The man before you asking such a personal and potentially invasive question was a stranger.  

You shifted a little where you sat and pulled the cloak tighter around you. 

“I don’t wanna be in your shit, kid.” He spoke quickly, seeing how uncomfortable you were. “I just think that there’s steps we gotta take if the answer is yes.”

You shook your head. 

“No, but I’ve heard stories. Things…. They could have happened. What happened to me was still bad.”

“It was. I’m, uh, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” 

Your eyes left the fire, flickering up to meet his. Your brows drew together as you watched him for a few moments. 

“What is your motive, witcher?” 

“My motive?” He repeated. 

“In fourteen years, you’ve never cared about…. about me. Never showed any interest in my well-being. But all of a sudden you do?”

“Well, you don’t exactly have somewhere to go, do you?”

You shook your head. 

“That’s what I thought. And I don’t exactly feel right sending a girl off into the world. So excuse my sudden desire to make sure you’re okay.”

You looked downwards, the flames of the fire lighting up your eyes. 

“Fuck destiny.” You whispered. 

Lambert’s eyes instantly found you once more. 

“What?”

“Isn’t that what you say every time someone mentioned me to you?”

“Oh, for fucks sake, kid.” Lambert groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Can you go the hell to sleep?”

“Tell me why I suddenly matter to you.”

“It doesn’t matter right now–!”

“It matters to me!” Though your voice was strong as you raised it, tears made your eyes glassy as you looked at the witcher. “It-It matters to me! I need to know, okay? My own father tried to have me killed or-or who knows what, so I just need to know why you of all people suddenly want something to do with me.” 

Lambert held your gaze until you looked away, then he did too. He rubbed his jaw and the back of his neck. 

“Look, kid.” He spoke quietly. “I don’t have a good answer for you. Guess I’m just trying to be the good guy for once.” 

You closed your eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath. Then you nodded your head. 

“You need to get some rest. It’s late, and I don’t know when we’ll be stopping like this again.”

You got as comfortable as possible inside the bedroll. You faced the fire, your eyes glued to the flames. 

“Good night, Lambert.”

“Night, kid.” 

Taglist: @samuraigrl89 @burningcoffeetimetravel @open--till--midnight @beautifulsweetschaos @gm_abbo @thefirelordm @here4thespice @many-fandoms-lover @one-eyed-captain-kinky @sparrowsparadise @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @buckysxgal @lady-of-glass-and-bone @super-calithehamm @invelda @eddyofthetruth @hc-geralt-23 @persephonehemingway @adhdhufflepuff @Purple-Tsuki @emperorpalpattitay @bitquirkydoe 

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[piceuscelus]

I posted 154 times in 2022

79 posts created (51%)

75 posts reblogged (49%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cirisource

@dead-dove-diner

@piceuscelus

@golden-kinks

I tagged 153 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#dead dove: do not eat - 145 posts

#dead dove - 145 posts

#celus speaks - 77 posts

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Longest Tag: 114 characters

#i'm thinking about making spite art of netflix!eskel because basil is fucking adorable and we deserved more of him

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

oh look i wrote something that wasn’t any of the prompts in my inbox 🙃 this is all twist’s fault

oops. have 3.3k of eskel being dirtybadwrong and using axii to put lambert on his knees and fuck his face. all tags and warnings (and also the fucking italics) on ao3!

Eskel couldn’t say what, exactly, is the final straw in his patience for dealing with Lambert’s shitty mood, but he does know he’s hit it. He barely even thinks about what he does, so frustrated with his brother’s bitter whining and general bad temper that he just reacts, doesn’t even rationalize it first. 

He snaps, “Shut up,” just as he finishes the Sign, and only then does it really occur to him what he’s done, what he’s doing – but now, well. Lambert is standing silent in front of him, face gone a little slack, eyes pointed at Eskel but hazy, like there’s a light in the window but no one is actually home. 

He takes a deep breath, and considers.

He could just drop the Sign, apologize for it and the snapping, and move on. He’d probably have to deal with more of Lambert’s bitching, then, both about the Axii and a continuation of whatever he’d been bleating about previously, whatever it had been. He could, but he thinks about having to listen to more of the complaining, and…. No. Actually, that’s not an option at all.

He could tell Lambert to stop complaining, then, and Axii would make him do it – but there wouldn’t be a guarantee on how long that would stick, and considering the power behind most of Eskel’s Signs, even when he’s not trying, well. He doesn’t want to take the chance on that order sticking around for too long, and end up with Lambert hurt or worse because he won’t – can’t – complain. Already, he’s taken a risk by not thinking before he ordered Lambert to shut up. That, plus how he’d have to add in something about making Lambert forget about the Axii so his brother doesn’t just build up resentment about the whole thing – it’s not worth the poor odds or the effort. 

Which only really leaves him with one choice, once he’s thought it all through. 

“Tell me the truth right now,” he says firmly, and he waits until he can tell the order has settled into Lambert’s mind, seeing how his mouth moves as if he’s about to say something but never does. “What the fuck is wrong with you lately?”

The hazy look on Lambert’s face doesn’t disappear, but he answers the question as if nothing is different or wrong at all, voice exactly as peevish as it had been before Eskel shut him up. “I’m too far in my own fucking head.”

That…clarifies absolutely nothing, because of course Lambert is too far in his head, that’s just what he’s like. To the detriment of himself and others. Usually, though, they can fix that – they just have to force him out of his head, somehow, whether that be with a rough scrap during training or making him his favorite stew. But neither of those things, or any of the other things they’ve tried (namely, getting him so drunk his eyes cross) have worked. 

He thinks for a moment. Realistically, he knows that when Lambert gets like this he needs something, something he can’t ask for or at least doesn’t feel like he can. And if they’ve tried providing the usual suspects – a good fight, creature comfort, drunken thoughtlessness – then clearly it’s something else, something they haven’t been giving him, something he can’t get by himself. 

“Tell me the truth right now,” he repeats. “What do you need?”

“Need someone to put me on my knees and make me stop fucking thinking,” Lambert answers, and then he continues unprompted, “Feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin but fucking isn’t enough.”

And that catches Eskel off guard, because of all the things he’d been expecting, a good fuck was on the list – but that wasn’t what Lambert said. No, he’d said put me on my knees and fucking isn’t enough, which means that this isn’t just some twisted, extended bout of horniness. (Especially considering that Eskel knows Lambert’s been sleeping in Coën’s bed for the last two weeks.)

Which leaves…. Hm.

It’s not as if Eskel is unfamiliar with this particular kind of need, from either end, really, but – well, Lambert has never expressed any kind of interest in that direction, exactly. Not that Lambert is particularly good at expressing his interests, unless they’re more tangible things like alcohol or alchemy, and expressing his wants or needs is and always has been like trying to coax blood from a stone, but.

But.

Somehow, Eskel thinks he should have known. Been able to spot it. It’s not as if Coën is the only one Lambert sleeps with, all of them spend the winters hopping between each others’ beds fairly regularly, but. He…didn’t know. Didn’t expect it, either, which feels even more like a failure in observation on his side.

He retraces Axii in the air, feels how Sign starts to pull – going from just power over Lambert’s will to it not being his anymore at all, being Eskel’s instead. It’s…dangerous, really, and frankly, fucking stupid, but Eskel hasn’t made a properly intelligent decision about this situation at all yet, so he doesn’t feel as wary as he probably should.

“Come with me,” he says, grabbing Lambert’s limp arm and tugging him in the direction of the bedrooms. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Lambert stumbles a little with the sudden force, but he doesn’t complain, and falls easily into step. “Just want to be good,” he says. “Want to be put on my knees and used, know I’m useful because I can hold still and choke pretty and not think.”

Eskel carefully ignores just how quickly that gets him hard. Luckily, his room is closest, so he doesn’t have to ignore it for too long. He puts Lambert in the middle of the room, then returns to the door to pull it closed and throw the deadbolt. It wouldn’t stand up against any actual force, but that’s not really the point.

The deadbolt means don’t even consider interrupting for anything short of a life-threatening emergency.

“Forget everything from when I told you to shut up to right now.”

Lambert makes an odd noise, face twisting for a moment before it smooths back out. Eskel gives it another beat.

“Where are you?” He asks it as he crosses the room back to where he left Lambert, working at the laces of his pants as he goes, and then Lambert’s when he gets there.

Lambert looks around, even though his eyes stay mostly hazy. “Your bedroom.”

“How did you get here?”

He blinks, frowning. “...I don’t know.”

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13 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

#4

fucktoy verse tangential thought, most just want this in general though:

the wolves have to remind ciri to thank them when they hurt her. after all, good sluts thank their masters for whatever they’re given, even and especially pain.

geralt, fucking her throat like a cocksleeve, but pulling back when she waves an arm - “i-it hurts, sir, i - “ “and what do you say when it hurts?” “...th-thank you, sir.” “exactly.”

lambert, fucking her ass with just enough prep so she doesn’t tear or hurt him - “sir, sir, ow, ow, sir, please - “ “that’s not what you’re supposed to say when it hurts.” “i - th-thank - thank you, sir, sorry, thank you!” “good girl.”

eskel, grinding his cock into her cervix until she cries, asking her, “what are you supposed to say to me, sweetheart? i know it hurts.” “th.....thank you, ow, sir, thank you!” “there you go.”

also related: reminding ciri that her place is as a fucktoy and a cumdump, and making her repeat the rule - whenever, wherever, however. if one of them wants to bend her over in a tavern and fuck her ass, she’s supposed to say “yes, sir” and then thank them for how much it hurt, like a good girl

if one of them wants to whore her out for some extra coin, she’s supposed to do as she’s told, let the stranger(s) fuck her, and bring the money back, and keep servicing her witchers if they ask, even if she’s sore and chafed and bruised

14 notes - Posted June 4, 2022

#3

the previously mentioned ciri/lambert + ciri/wolves, i’m too lazy to post on ao3 rn but i’ll do that later

facefucking, objecitifcation, humiliation (via namecalling but she’s not terribly humiliated about it), implied sex slave situation that is not fleshed out or explained, large insertion resulting in belly & throat bulge, fucking machine, a gag and sex toys in general, breathplay

“See,” Lambert murmurs in Ciri’s ear as he ties her wrists tight behind her back, “we want to be able to use that pretty mouth of yours like another cunt. Nice and easy to fuck. So we have to get you used to being throat-fucked like you’re a pretty little fleshlight.”

Her cunt pulses and her hands flex along, caught at the small of her back. The rope is tied tightly enough to dig, if she pulls, but not enough to cut off circulation. 

Which just means that he’ll be leaving her here for a while.

“Because you are a pretty little fleshlight,” Lambert continues, using his grip on her wrists to pull her up so she’s sitting back on her knees again. His fingers shove between her thighs to pet roughly over her cunt and her asshole, both already slick and gaping from the plugs he just removed. “These holes are already trained right –  we can fuck them whenever we want, as hard as we want, and you just cry for more, don’t you?”

She whines. “Y-yes, Sir!”

Lambert chuckles. “Exactly. Stay there.”

He stands from where he’d been crouched nearer her level, and she watches as he moves around the room, grabbing various things. Three large dildos, and lube, and one of the machines end up in front of her. She swallows back a reedy little noise.

“Wouldn’t do to leave our favorite fucktoy empty,” Lambert says as he grabs one of the dildos. He slathers it with lube and then circles behind her, and that’s all the warning she gets before the slick silicone is being forced into her cunt, much bigger than the plug he’d removed.

She wails, and he just laughs, pushing until the toy is sunk into her up to its fake balls. A second dildo is snatched from where it lays against her leg, and there’s the slick sound of more lube; this time she’s expecting the penetration, but it doesn’t make it any less overwhelming. With the massive cock already in her cunt, the one he’s shoving into her ass feels somehow even larger, and when both are sunk into her to the base, she can feel the way her flat stomach has gone round and cock-shaped.

“Good girl,” Lambert praises, somehow half-mockery. “Keep those nice and warm.”

He stands and crosses the room to grab something again, and this time when he returns he stands in front of her. 

“Open that pretty mouth,” he says, and then coos softly when she does. “Good.”

The gag is wide, wide enough that her jaw is already starting to ache a little even as he buckles it behind her head, but with it keeping her jaw wide open and her tongue flat and hanging out of her mouth, she can hardly complain. Once the gag is secured, Lambert pets over her extended tongue.

“That is a nice sight,” he says. “Maybe once we’ve got you nice and trained I’ll put you in this gag just to keep you on my cock all day.”

She immediately tries to say yes, Sir, but obviously can't, and Lambert laughs. He sinks three fingers into her open mouth, just rubbing them over her tongue at first and then slowly pushing them further, into her throat. She gags wildly, and then chokes, but he just keeps going, until his knuckles are pressed against her teeth and her vision is swimming. Just when she thinks he’ll choke her out like this, they pull back, but she barely gets a breath before he’s shoving them inside again.

He finger-fucks her throat like that for a long moment, eyes intent and burning on her reddening face, her eyes rolling back into her head with each violent gag. 

“Shame we can’t keep this and fuck your throat like the fleshlight it is,” he tuts, and finally pulls his hand away entirely. He turns to the machine in front of her and starts attaching the third dildo, then moving it around until it’s perfectly positioned so the head of the toy rests against her tongue.

Once he’s sure the machine is in place and sturdy, he uncaps another bottle of lube. Immediately, from the smell, she can tell this one is flavored; he pours a generous amount over the head of the toy, as well as into her mouth – she chokes when it starts to slide, thick and vicious, down her throat – and then he leans down and turns the machine on.

The speed is slow, for now, so she has time to prepare as the toy shoves into her mouth and then, inexorably, down her throat. She still chokes, of course, but the machine doesn’t care; the toy pulls out of her mouth at the same speed it shoved in, and then does it again, and again, and again. 

“Think we’ll leave it at that speed for a bit,” Lambert says. “I’ll be back soon.”

And with that, she’s alone. 

With nothing else to focus on, she fixates on the toy slowly fucking her throat, trying to time her breathing to its thrusts, clenching her fists to control her gagging. It doesn’t really work, until, after an hour – maybe? she’s not sure of the passage of time – it starts to. And then, when that starts to work, she can more easily focus on the feeling of it. 

The objectification, being left alone with a machine set to fuck her throat – to train her mouth into another easy, convenient hole to fuck. The pulsing arousal in her belly, how it just intensifies each time she gags around the thick toy and her cunt and ass clench down on the toys filling her guts. How she can feel each fake-veined inch of the toy as it sinks into her mouth, and then down her throat; the sore stretch as it pops into a space much too tiny for it – but that stretches to accommodate, all the same; the feeling of her throat bulging around it to match the bulge in her belly. 

How if she forgets herself and chokes hard enough, she rocks forward and shoves the toy even deeper, until she’s certain it won’t come out – and then it does, pulling slowly out of her fucked-raw throat with an obscene, slick noise. 

By the time Lambert returns, she’s gone hazy, and has mostly managed to adjust to the machine’s pace, timing her breathing and swallowing so she’s not choking anymore. She’s also covered in a thick wealth of spit, dripping down her chin and smearing across her tits and rounded belly.

“Oh, very good,” Lambert says as he stops in front of her. It’s hard to keep her eyes open when the toy sinks to the base in her throat again, but she manages it with some minor fluttering, and he grins. “Perfect little fucktoy. I think we can turn the speed up a bit.”

He leans down and fiddles with the knobs on the machine, and slowly the toy starts to move in and out of her mouth at a quicker pace. Not too much quicker, though; she gags a few times and then manages to catch up to it, and Lambert coos approvingly.

“Very good.” He pets through her hair and just watches for a moment, how her eyes flutter and roll each time the toy sinks balls-deep. “Okay, a little faster.”

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17 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#2

Can I get Jaskier or Lambert Axii-trained deepthroating, with a side of free use and cum inflation? Axii-trained hole too? Just desperate for Witcher cum to soothe the never ending hungry ache in him? Perhaps belly bulge?

me @ the date on this ask like idonotseeit.jpg

anyway.

went a teeny bit off the rails with this one, but i got the spirit i think - intersex a/b/o, omega lambert and alpha everyone else, belly bulge mentioned, free use and axii and misuse of potions. see the ao3 post for more complete tags because i feel like i've been hit by a bus

(god please someone give me validation for this)

They’ve taken great pains to make sure that the physical effects of their games wear off by winter’s end, to ensure that no matter what kind of pleasures they get up to in those cold, dark months, that there’s no risk of them bleeding into the Path.

Not for anyone else’s sake, mind, but for his, for his safety and comfort and well-being when he’s away from them and the protection they provide. And he appreciates it, he absolutely does.

But, well.

The physical may not last, but the mental – the eagerness, the need. There’s nothing much they can do about that, really.

And, he suspects, they wouldn’t anyway, because he wouldn’t, either.

It’s just more fun when he’s desperate.

– – – – –

He’s the first to arrive at the keep, like he always is since they started this…tradition. And Vesemir is just as amused as he always is about it, but Lambert can’t even care past the want that’s been eating him for the last week, getting worse and worse with each treacherous step up the Killer. 

“Careful there, pup.”

Amusement or not, at least Vesemir catches him when he stumbles in the courtyard, opens his arms and lets Lambert bury his face into his throat. It’s lucky that the old man is holding onto him, too, because the smell of him makes Lambert’s knees go weak.

It’s not heat, he hasn’t had one of those since – before the Trials, or maybe right after, he’s not sure, but it feels like it is, at least with how much he needs. Even luckier than the fact that Vesemir caught him, though, he knows the old alpha will take care of him, too.

He lets himself melt into Vesemir’s chest, tucking his face further into the alpha’s throat as if that would muffle the whine he lets out when Vesemir’s arms tighten around him. 

“Yeah, I’ve got you, good boy” Vesemir murmurs, nosing at Lambert’s temple. He’s not subtle about the way he sniffs at him as he does it.

“Fine,” Lambert manages to mumble, knowing even past his own aching that Vesemir worries fiercely when they’re all gone. “‘M fine, just – fuck, I need it, Ves, please.”

“Mm, you always do, pup.” Vesemir shifts his arms, and even before Lambert turns his face to see the alpha’s hand shaping Axii he can feel the power of it surge around them. Something about Vesemir’s age, how long he’s been a Witcher – Lambert doesn’t know the specifics, he just knows that Vesemir’s got better control over the Signs than all of them combined and more power to boot, so he’s always the one to do this.

And even knowing it’s coming, even wanting it so badly he’s certain every part of him is somehow itching for it, he still isn’t prepared for how it hits him. He never is.

That’s half the reason he loves it so much.

It washes over him like a tidal wave and he goes dizzy at first, eyes rolling as he slumps further into Vesemir’s chest; after that first press, though, the first surge of Vesemir’s power eroding his will, it’s less like being taken underwater by force and more like sinking willingly into the hot springs. His mind goes soft and hazy and slow, and while he still needs, is still an embarrassing level of soaked between his thighs, it’s more distant, now. There’s less urgency to it.

It, more than anything else, feels like coming home. 

“There you go, pup, just like that, good boy.” Vesemir’s voice seems distant to his ears at the same time that it thunders around his head, every part of him attuned to the alpha so well that even just hearing the words good boy makes him feel borderline euphoric. 

And then, of course, he feels even better when Vesemir gets a hand in his hair and kisses him before murmuring, “On your knees, I want a proper greeting as well.”

A large, rough thumb sweeps over the hollow of his throat, and without any input from him, his mouth drops open at the same time his knees hit the cracked flagstones. Lambert doesn’t know how, but Vesemir has already managed to loosen his breeches, cock starting to poke out of the gap as he slowly hardens. 

His mouth is already watering, drool slipping easily over his tongue and down his chin where it’s hanging open. Vesemir just makes a rough sound of approval, getting a better grip on Lambert’s throat before he’s fisting his cock with the other hand and shifting closer.

Lambert can only lap eagerly at the bead of precum at the tip of his cock and whine needily when he’s not allowed to duck forward for more. Vesemir’s hand at his throat holds him in place, unless he wants to choke – which he does, but not from pressure.

“Good,” Vesemir rumbles, almost more of a growl. “Look so good on your knees, pup. Always so desperate for it, aren’t you?”

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24 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

laying facedown on the floor

writing is so hard why the fuck is it my main hobby

270 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

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