#eskel fanfiction

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Witchers + someone making their s/o uncomfortable

summary: what if the witchers saw someone making their s/o uncomfortable at a bar?

warnings: unwanted flirting/attention, the witchers doing their thing (slight physical violence), written with afab!reader in mind, technically gender-neutral though :)

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @lu-in-the-library @sunndust @ghostcatwhiskers (hmu to be added/removed to any taglist)

masterlist | based on this request

Geralt

Bros the standing guy emoji

Except that he’s so so menacing. He’ll just kind of cast a shadow over the person that’s making you uncomfortable

And you best expect that person to scurry back into their hole

“We’re leaving.”

Scolds the barkeep like a little kid

Definitely tries to reassure you by wildly making death threats about anyone who’s ever been slightly negative towards you

Eskel

Eskel makes it very clear that you’re with him, and being a Witcher, that’s usually enough

He puts an arm around your waist/shoulder, and challenges whoever is making you uncomfortable to continue talking

Usually, they leave pretty quickly

If they do not get the memo, best believe that Eskel will make them understand

Happy to use threats in order to protect you

Lambert

Lambert may not be as quick to notice as Geralt or Eskel, as he’s probably busy getting into a brawl

But as soon as he does, he abandons his current fight to start a new one with whoever is making you uncomfortable

He’s a witcher, not a diplomat, no words necessary

You best believe drunk creeps leave you alone for the rest of the night

(unless they have a deathwish)

Coen

Coen is quiet and patient, and so is his approach

When he notices something is wrong, he takes the creep by the shoulder and walks them away from you

Exchanges some friendly, pointed words (read: threats) that have the creep’s knees shaking for sure

They leave pale as a ghost, and you’ll never get a word out of Coen. You don’t need to hear all that

[cosmos-coma]

I know I’m late, but may I request 16 or 30 from the Valentine’s prompts with Eskel, if you’re still taking requests? Thank you 💕 Your writing is the best!

La-Vide

The Need to Get Away

A/N: OF COURSE I CAN, ANYTHING FOR YOU. And you don’t even have to ask, because the only Eskel I write for is game Eskel :) (and hopefully some book Eskel as I read through more). Sorry this took so long! It’s been a WEEK, but I really appreciate the love.

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words: 2398

Warning: none! Just some fluff! (oh and absolutely CHAOTIC sibling energy)

Witcher Masterlist

Consider buying me a Ko-fi?

__________

It was nearing the end of winter, teetering on the edge of spring and the holiday of love was right around the corner. Most years Eskel wouldn’t bother to celebrate- the path was ever lonely and if company happened to be found, they barely stayed beyond the night. 

But this year was different.

This year it wasn’t a mocking reminder of his isolating work, But rather a reminder that against all odds, somehow he found you.

When he first met you, you had been a radiant hearth in a house he didn’t even realize had gone dark and cold. No matter the day he had you always smiled and laughed when he came back to you with sticks and monster bits in his hair. You’d pick them out, ask him how his contract was, and spend all night in his tender embrace.

You made him feel normal, and for that, he wanted to give you something special- something he felt was worthy of the love he felt he had so unjustly received. 

First, he tried the library. 

He had set everything up perfectly; the fireplace crackled with the warmth of life, the fragrant petals of your favorite flower lay scattered around the stacks, and the warmest blanket in the entire keep was placed over your favorite loveseat. 

He pulled out a stack of your favorite stories and even a few new ones he’d snagged in town before the bitter cold came. He figured you two could have a relaxing morning side by side in the library before you continued on to the rest of his plans.

… unfortunately, it didn’t last for long.

“Eskel, my love, did you do all of this for us?” You grinned as you opened the heavy wooden door. The pleasant smell of fresh flowers and old books swirled around you, its soothing scent enveloping you along with the warmth coming from the room's large hearth. 

“I thought we could start with a quiet morning…” he said as he took your hand and led you to your seat where there was already a steaming mug just for you.

Your grin was so sweet and genuinely excited that even now, Eskel still lost his breath at the sight of it.

You settled down in your favorite loveseat, your legs thrown over Eskel’s lap as per usual as you settled in. 

It seemed like the perfect way to start the day, book in your lap, mug in your hand, until-

BOOM

You nearly jumped 3 feet in the air when you heard the rumbling explosion beneath you, causing you to spill the contents of your mug into your lap and book.

“Ah!! Hot! Hot!” You shouted as you jumped up to your feet, dropping everything to the floor as you desperately tried to fan yourself. 

Eskel wasted no time jumping up either, trying to pat dry your clothes and blow on them, but there was only so much he could do. Soon enough, thankfully, the entire room let out a relieved sigh as your clothes had finally cooled down, now just leaving you with a soaked, cold lap.

“Well this… could be worse,” you tried to stay positive as you looked at Eskel with a small smile “But What on earth was that? It sounded like it was right below us” 

Eskel sighed, sitting back down as he watched you go stand near the fire to dry your clothes, “it probably came from the alchemy lab… it’s right below us but I don’t know who would be-“

BOOM

A smaller explosion went off. 

“I meant to do that!” You heard Lambert’s voice yell as bits of rock crumbled and fell from the ceiling.

Eskel sighed, “I really should have guessed… It seems he chose today of all days to test his volatile substances…” 

“‘Volatile substances’? You mean—“

BOOM

“Oh, THAT'S NEW” Lambert's voice shouted, a mix of excitement and concern…but mostly excitement.

“Bombs.” Eskel finished for you, “precisely.”

“Right…” you said quietly, seeming to be in thought as you  nodded and fanned your clothes before the fire, “… should we not be here?”

“No probably not…” 

Next, he tried the courtyard.

It was warm for the end of winter and the sun hung happily in the clear sky. Though there were still some weeks of winter left, soft green buds mistakenly peeked out of the twigs and branches above you, giving hope of a soon-to-be spring. 

“So this morning didn’t go as planned, but I thought maybe we could spend some time with Lil Bleater?” Eskel suggested, carrying a small pack under his arm. The aforementioned noisy kid bleated up at her two-legged dad as she followed just half a step behind, urgently asking for everything from cuddles to treats to a sparring partner.

You laughed a bit and nodded, “of course… you know I can never get enough of her.” 

As if sensing his intentions Lil Bleater suddenly ran ahead, bouncing around a large tree jutting out of the courtyard. Its roots had pulled up pieces of the stone walkway its many, many years of watching over the keep, but maintained a little bowl that was perfect for sitting. Landing with as much flare as a goat can she turned back to Eskel, yelling at him to set up right here.

“There? That’s where you wanna be? Alright, you’re the boss, Bleater…” your beloved said with a warm smile, unfolding the small blanket with a satisfying fwoosh. 

The mountain of a man let out a sigh nearly as big as he was as he finally sat on the thin cushion of the blanket, “let’s try this again shall we..?” He offered, his notched lip tugging up at the corner as he reached out to you. 

Practically falling into his lap, you wasted no time before curling into his warm embrace, your head resting pleasantly against his shoulder as you tried to take in the peace of the morning once again. Lil Bleater was quick to follow suit, climbing into your lap and nibbling at your clothes until you finally scratched her just right. 

It seemed like everything was finally going right this time… that is until- 

Clang! Clang clang! Ding! 

Eskel groaned, his head knocking into yours as it hung in defeat again. He swore this day was testing him. 

Geralt and Vesemir came round the corner shortly after, swords clanging viciously as they sparred, their mentor holding nothing back as he came at him again and again. Metal on metal rang incessantly in your ears and even Lil Bleater had to protest the unending noise they made. 

“Baaaaah! “ she cried, pushing off of your lap in a rush as she ran swiftly in the opposite direction. 

“Um… “ you muttered as you watched them keep going, even going so far as to wave at you as they passed. You wanted to say something, but this was still not your home, not technically, and you didn’t want to overstep your bounds.

Eskel sighed, he was a very patient man, but it was wearing thinner with every aggressive clang of metal ringing against the stone walls, “Of course they have to do this now-- Come on… why don’t you go in for lunch?” He suggested, his smile much more tired now as he helped you up, “I’ll be in soon, okay? Hopefully, it’s quieter in the hall.”

And then… it was lunch…

Eskel was hard at work in the kitchen, willingly unbothered by the racquet of his brothers as he put the finishing touches on his meal. He had prepared most of it earlier that morning, having already planned ahead on sharing your favorite lunch. “Okay… it’s done,” Eskel mumbled to himself as he looked out the thin window, “and with any luck, my brothers will still be busy while we eat….” 

As Eskel brought out plates for the both of you, looking cautiously around the hall, he had to sigh in relief; his brothers were still out and about.Maybe he could finally have time for just the two of you.

 Thank any and every god that one of his activities was going right. 

Your smile was gentle and patient as he headed toward you, your whole expression graced with a wash of wonderfully stubborn love. Eskel nearly tripped on a raised tile, his eyes lost in yours instead on the path ahead of him, before quickly recovering his footing. 

“Careful there…,”. You warned with a laugh, “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to lunch after all the trouble you’ve gone through today.” 

Your Witcher huffed a small laugh, but refused to jinx it any further

However…

About four bites in the hair on the back of his neck began to rise. Something didn’t feel right. He stopped and looked around the hall. All was quiet, but something still nagged him.

Hm.. it’s not his Witcher senses bothering him, or his medallion would have gone off. No… what was bothering him was his sibling senses. 

Carefully he put his fork down, the gentle ding clear in his ears. He looked at you, innocent and unaware of what was yet to come, you were too engrossed in your meal to notice the danger looming all too close. 

“It’s too quiet-” he tried to warn, but it was too late. 

Almost as if it was planned, both Lambert and Geralt came in from different doors and their senses were set on Eskel’s premade food. 

“No, no, no, no..!” Eskel started to stand, yellow eyes flaring as Geralt slid in next to you, and Lambert next to him. 

“Oooh, smells good, whatcha got there big guy?” Lambert asked with a grin as he reached over onto Eskel’s plate, taking a bite of the meticulously made dish, “oh shit, this is good!”

Geralt looked over onto your plate, “Hm? Can I try some?” He asked, tone calm and deceivingly gentle, but Eskel knew his brothers. Lambert was brash and didn’t care about the consequences as he reached for what he wanted. Geralt on the other hand was calculated. As a child he learned quickly that he needed his approach to be smart if he was going to skirt the slaps and jabs Lambert got, so he’d stick his foot in the door. He’d ask to try some, complement the work, and then eventually get YOU to offer HIM part of your meal. Eskel had fallen for it many times.

“Oh, of course,” you smiled pleasantly as you offered him a fork, watching him take a politely small bite. 

“Oh it’s good, Eskel you made this?” Geralt complimented, the slightest smile on his lips as he met the blazing eyes of his closest brother. 

“I did…” Eskel gritted out, pushing Lambert away from his plate as he went to reach in again. 

“Huh, you’ve never cooked like this for us…” Geralt remarked, rubbing his ‘aching arms’ “mm, too bad my arms are so sore from training today to make myself something like this…” 

“Oh… well, would you like some more of mine? I’m sure there’s enough to go around.” You said, offering him a few more forkfuls. 

Geralt grinned pointedly at his brother as he lifted his fork again, “Wow, Eskel… you must’ve brought home the most generous person on the continent….” 

You smiled at the compliment, but the pleasant expression quickly fell as Eskel stabbed his fork into the table, dangerously close to Lambert's reaching hand, and wordlessly walked away. His shoulders were tight and arched, like a threatened animal, and you weren’t sure if it was growling or muttering beneath his breath that you heard. 

“Eskel? My love, where are you going?” You asked as he turned the corner wordlessly. 

“Well,” Lambert said, scooting over into Eskel’s seat as he took his plate with a grin, “If he’s not going to finish it then I guess I should.”

All of this Chaos and turmoil had bubbled and stewed and now you hadn’t seen Eskel all afternoon. Sunset was just a few hours away and you were starting to get worried. 

“Where could he be..?” You mused to yourself as you pushed past the front doors.You had just stepped outside to look for him once again when you heard a familiar, yet excited sound. 

“Bahhhh!” Lil Bleater yelled as she ran toward you, her gait quick and determined as she trampled a path straight toward you. 

“Hey, kiddo. Have you- wait, what’s this?” You asked as you quickly snatched the note she was chewing away. 

‘Meet me at the stables? Dress warm. -E’

You grinned as you saw Eskel’s neat handwriting scrawled across the simple note. With all the speed you could manage you rushed to get your warmest clothes on, a grin plastered on your face the entire time as you raced through the keep and down to the stables. What you weren’t expecting though was to see Scorpion saddled up, packed saddle bags bulging with various items. 

“Eskel..? What is this..?” You smiled, nearly out of breath as you slowed to a stop before the stead-fast stallion. “Are you going somewhere?” You asked, petting Scorpion’s dark muzzle as he leaned his nose in to sniff around your pockets.

“We are,” he smiled, looking at ease once again as he came to your side, “I’m sorry today was- sort of a disaster. I had all of these things planned and just… nothing seemed to go right,” he admitted. “But I think I found the perfect solution…. How do you feel about an impromptu road trip? There’s a little clearing up the side of the mountain that has the most amazing sunsets. 

There’s a big tree in the middle that’s perfect to sleep under, and after we eat dinner-” he knocked on a saddle bag, its noise clanking with the sound of a pot and its utensils, “then maybe we can make a fire and stargaze..?”

His large frame was uncharacteristically nervous, his gaze staring down at his rough hands as they came together in front of him. He hoped you’d be willing to try it all again, It hadn’t been a great start, but he was still determined to see it through for you. 

When he finally looked up from his hands the brightness of your toothy grin was contagious, Eskel’s own lips tugging up into a wide smile.

“Oh, my love… you had me at ‘road trip’.”

_________

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[writingmysanity]

Warmth

Pairing: Eskel x reader

Word count: 340

A/N: I know many of you followed me for my Eskel content. I swear I am still making it- I am just busy and also have to follow the serotonin when I can in order to keep writing. Have a little bit that I wrote because it was cute.

Shivering a bit, you snuggle up into Eskel’s warmth, sighing softly. Your coat just isn't cutting it. Time for a new one. 

Do you have enough coin?

Silently deliberating on what you would have to give up to afford a new one, you watch the rainfall, eyes zeroing in on the droplets sliding along the leaves above your head, dropping like lead with a splash into the ever growing puddle that surrounds you. Eskel’s eyes are closed, but you know better than to assume he was asleep. His hand draws tentative lines up and down your arm, large hand just about engulfing your much smaller body in lingering warmth. 

Humming contently, you relax further into his hold, letting him tug you closer. 

“Don't you say it,” you grouch, eyes fluttering open to glare up at the mountain of a man, a soft flush painting his ears- the only sign the man could blush at all. He sits there for a moment, mouth ajar slightly, words dead on his lips. Grumbling, he works his jaw, thumb brushing over the scar on your shoulder- deeper than the others, more jagged. 

“I was just going to apologize,” he sighs. Rolling your eyes, you pinch his side. 

“I know,” you hum, narrowing your eyes at him. “And I won't hear of it.” he snorts a bit, looking down at you, hair plastered to his head. 

“And why not?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow down at you. “It's my fault we're here.” rolling your eyes, you sigh, nose scrunching slightly in distaste when the puff of white flutters away in the wind. 

“I won't hear of it, Esk. If you feel bad enough, hold me more,” he laughs, hauling you up into his lap, letting you curl up under his gibson layering his cloak over you both. 

“When have you ever needed an excuse for me to hold you, Kit?” snickering below the layers, you nuzzle into his chest, humming happily as warmth envelops you. 

“Not a single damn time, but it is always nice.”

____

Tag list: @errruvande @thesleepy1 @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @queenxxxsupreme @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @open--till--midnight @one-eyed-captain-kinky

@seidenbros @cosmos-coma @deanmcogorman @dark-academia-slut  @jessalyn-jpeg @daughterofautumn

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[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Eskel Valentine's Oneshot

So uhhh, heres a oneshot. I had the Kids and Coffee dates version of Eskel in mind when i wrote but it's pretty much completely self conatined. Okay bye! (hides back in my hole)

Nothing could go right today. You were fairly sure this day was completely cursed. You leaned  on the counter looking at the trashed kitchen, head hung low. Powdered sugar coated both you and every dry surface. Sticky meringue-based batter coated many of your utensils and despite the not insignificant amount of vanilla extract you had spilled on the floor earlier you could still get wafts of smoke smell coming up from the basement.

Lets start from the beginning.

The shit had started that morning. You were lying in bed, trying your best to enjoy your morning before everything got started. It was Valentines day, and for once you actually had someone you really wanted to spend it with. Eskel and you had both agreed that you didn’t want to go out. Restaurants too crowded with people, and normal date spots much more likely to have unwanted company. So you decided on a nice dinner at your house. He was going to bring an entrée and you would provide sides and dessert. You had made all the sides in advance last night so you could tackle your main rival today: Macarons. You’d made the finicky cookies before, quite successfully- though for every success you’d probably had two failures. You’d known Eskel long enough now to know of his not so subtle love for sweets, and you kept your macaron making knowledge a secret to pull out for a special occasion to impress him.

This seemed the perfect opportunity, and your gentle giant of a boyfriend would be worth every frustration along the way.

Having hyped yourself up to start baking you got up out of bed, only to open the bedroom door and step out onto utterly freezing hardwood. Cold air blasted you in face and goosebumps instantly pebbled on your arms. Quickly grabbing a robe to wrap around yourself you padded over to the thermostat. It was set for 70 but it was only 58 in the house. Perking your head up you focused, trying to hear the tell tale rattling of the furnace from the air vents. Only silence greeted you.

The furnace was out, great. At it least it wasn’t projected to be too terribly cold today you thought as you went about morning chores, getting animals and yourself fed. Then it was on to tackling the heat issue. It was times like these you were grateful for having an old house, as in the basement across the room from the furnace was a wood stove. That could keep the house warm until you could get someone out to fix the heating. You went over to the pile of wood next to the stove kept for such emergencies and easily stacked and lit the wood in the stove. Satisfied as the flames eagerly licked the dry kindling, you closed the stove door and headed back up to start your work in the kitchen.

As you began looking for your scale and other ingredients you could smell smoke, a good indication that the fire was catching well and the house would be toasty again in no time. Then the smell got stronger… and stronger. You perked your head up from the recipe on your phone, peering out to look down the hall. The door leading to the basement had tendrils of smoke crawling out from underneath it. You threw your phone down on the table and dashed back down to the basement.

Smoke plumed out of the door as you flung it open, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the basement floor. As you looked through the smoke-filled haze you could see that nothing had caught on fire. Instead smoke was coming from the stove, flowing into the house instead of the chimney. As you reached the stove you experimentally touched the chimney, it was just as chilly as the floors upstairs, confirming your suspicions. It was plugged up. You searched around for something to put out the fire. A lone dehumidifier caught your eye from the back corner. Its indicator light, stating its bucket was full and needed to be emptied, having been ignored for quite some time. It was not ideal, as putting a ton of water on the flame could cause the stove to crack, but you really didn’t have any options. Rushing you grabbed the bucket out of the machine and opened the top of the stove, dumping its contents inside.  

Steam erupted from the hole, the wood charred, and the fire doused. You went to breath a sigh of relief; however the smoke and steam filed your lungs causing a coughing fit. A minute or so passed before you could breath again, now starting back at square one. No heat and no plan B. To make matters worse you had to open the basement windows to let out the smoke, letting more cold air in. Propping open every window and even placing a fan by one, you looked forlornly at the defunct furnace. Trying your best to see if you could bullshit your way into fixing it. It was after some scrutiny that you noticed a small switch to the side of the furnace, close to the ground, had been switched off. You leaned over to examine further, noting some kitty cat paw prints were in the dust by the button. Gingerly you flipped the switch back on, almost leaping back as the furnace came alive once more.

Irritation settled in your bones as you trudged along back upstairs. Now stinking of smoke, eyes and lungs irritated beyond belief you tried once more to continue baking. You had finished your meringue and were preparing the flour and sugar when you noticed that your little shit of a heat hating cat—who would usually be begging at your feet by now, was no where in sight. He had been a stray found by Eskel, whom you had immediately taken in and declared he was now Eskel and your son. He was also a massive food pit and would pester you incessantly when you were in the kitchen for any period longer than five minutes. So his absence now was noted.

It then occurred to you that you had opened the windows in the basement for the smoke. The very much screenless and at ground level windows.

How much can go wrong in an hour? Grabbing your coat, some shoes and cat treats you went outside. An hour and half later both you and the cat were finally back inside, of course not before it had started to rain, however. With your heat, cat and windows now secure you get back to the recipe, specifically starting it over.

Time went quickly and the tedious nature of the cookies plus you frazzled state caused you to be a bit sloppy with your baking. Sugar getting everywhere and at one point knocking vanilla extract off the counter and all over the kitchen.

You almost cried at that point, but papa didn’t raise no bitch and you WERE going to see this through. Finally you had your cookies in the oven and even though you did everything right, the tops of them started to crack.

Great, just great.

At least they’ll still taste okay, you thought, trying you best to power through baking and frosting them. At last they were finished, and you sighed looking out at the mess of both yourself and the kitchen.

Today was cursed, you were sure of it. Either you could be alone and happy or in a relationship and miserable. No in-between.

Somehow you cleaned the kitchen and showered, but the wear of the day being one event after another dragged your shoulders down to rest—just for a moment.

            They gentle eyes of the your “stray son” peered at Eskel through the window as he walked up to your door. He was honestly really excited, sure he had gone out for Valentines before, but never like this. Never with someone he loved. Someone that loved him enough to know he would rather stay in and be fancy at home, rather than try and keep that pretense out in public. He was excited to have you try his soup. He hadn’t been sure what to make, but he wanted to impress you, and it was still cold enough for soup. He was picture the two of you curled up on the couch, cozy, some show playing on TV but neither of you really paying attention because the other was close. Or at least that’s how he always felt around you. Like he couldn’t focus because time spent with you, not paying attention to you was time wasted.

            He knocked on the door gently, when several minutes passed and no answer he re-arranged the container in his hands to open the door. You were probably just in the shower or had headphones on. He had accidentally (and sometimes purposefully if he was being honest) scared you because you were so engrossed in what you were listening to. He couldn’t really help it though, you were so cute when you were flustered and tried mock scolding him afterwards.

            Eskel made his way into the kitchen, noticing the faint scent of wood smoke in the hall. He opened the fridge to place his soup inside while he searched for you, when something light blue caught his eyes. He eyed the cookies up and down for a second. He wasn’t sure if you had bought them for tonight or for something else but…..

            Eskel grabbed two of the sweets, putting one in his mouth as he went to search for you.

            ……. You knew better than to leave sweets out when we was coming over.

            Eskel made his first stop at your bedroom, concern furrowing his brows a moment when he didn’t hear the water running. Only to then hear the soft sounds of you sleeping behind the door. Eskel gently opened up the door. Your cat being ever the opportunist rushing in as it opened to come and jump on the bed. You were on your stomach, hair sprawled out around you, the scent of you hair products wafting up as he got closer. A smile tugged further and further up his face as he noticed you hadn’t even gotten out of your robe yet. You must have fallen asleep after your shower before getting ready.

            Eskel set the cookie in his hand down on your nightstand and leaned over, his hand brushing against your cheek as he kissed your temple.

            “Y/n…. Y/n babe wake up” You stirred quietly shoulders jostling a bit before you pried open your eyes.

            “Esk? What? Shit what time is it?” You turned and tried to clumsily sit up but Eskel placed a firm hand on your shoulder.

            “ Doesn’t matter now I’m already here. What’s up are you okay? You’re not really a post-shower nap kinda girl.” Eskel smirked trying to get you to smile as well, but it quickly fell when he noticed your frown deepen.

            “Yeah I know I just…. I… Everything was just” You struggled to articulate what was going on and instead fell back into the bed, arms crossed over your eyes as a small whine escaped you.

            “Hey, hey it’s okay, you don’t need to tell me anything… Just… come here.”

            Eskel quickly discarded his jacket and climbed into the bed, opening his arms for you. You immediately accepted, wrapping around him and squishing your face into his neck.

            “m sorry I ruined Valentines.” Eskel could make out your mumbling into his skin.

            “You didn’t ruin Valentines” You pulled back from him slightly, the vibrations from him speaking just a bit too much.

            “But I’m all mopey and junk.” You frowned looking into the bit of his chest peaking out from his V neck. A shirt you would bet money he only wore because he knew you loved them on him. Eskel leaned back further, an arms detaching from your side so he could bring his hand up. Gentle fingers pulled your chin up to look at him. Soft, kind eyes, tan skin and a look of total adoration greeted you.

            “I still love you when you’re mopey.”

[thesleepy1]

Monsters and Muslin

A/N: Sometimes when I post fics I feel like I’m feeding bread crumbs to cannibalistic ducks with a taste for human blood. They will either eat the bread crumbs, each other, or me. I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long. Please don’t kill me and accept my peace offering. (Eskel has dimples because I said so.) 

Pairings: Eskel x Reader 

Summary: You and Eskel grew up together at Kaer Morhen. You trained together, fought together, and loved each other. When the Path demanded that you went separate ways, you agreed to meet up annually. Until Eskel missed a meeting.  

Or “hii can I request an Eskelxreader angst, where the reader is a female witcher and they fell in love before he got his scars. then he left because of insecurity when he got it and she went to look for him?”

Word count: 1,146

Warnings: angst, violence, scars, insecure Eskel, blood, 

“It makes me look like a monster.” 

You felt soft hands on your face, fingers cradling your jaw. Eskel forced your gaze to his with the lightest of touches. Your teary carmel eyes met ones that juxtaposed your own. They were the same shade of golden but instead of salty tears rolling down his cheeks, Eskel just had a smile wide enough to show his dimples. 

“Who told you that?” He hummed, fingertips grazing the red line from the middle of your forehead down your brow and just passed your eye. It went deep, but luckily the skin stitched itself back together faster than any normal human could. If it weren’t for the witcher mutagens, your wound would have likely gotten infected. Unfortunately, it still left a gnarly scar. 

“The witcherlings Vesemir just brought in.” You explained to Eskel’s shoulder, refusing to properly meet his eye. “I walked past them in the courtyard and that was all they could say to me. I-I made a little girl cry, Eskel.” 

“Children fear anything they don’t understand.” Eskel brushed your tears away but that only caused them to increase. “None of them must have realized they were in the presence of one of the strongest witchers in the keep. The one and only witcher who single handedly warded off the cockatrice from their beds.” Eskel rested his head against yours. You shared the other’s heat, the smell of the other witcher filling your senses until it was all either of you could feel. “If they had known how brave you are, what you had done for them, they would love you just as much as me.” 

“You love me? Even with this hideous thing?” You sniffled, peering up at Eskel through your wet lashes. 

“I love you, darling.” 

*****

Eskel couldn’t be dead. You refused to believe it. He had just sent you a letter the week before. His words, oh his words painted the most beautiful picture. Eskel must have been a poet in another life for how he spills words into tapestries.  He still wanted you just as much as you wanted, no, needed him. The witcher would never dream of standing you up so something must have happened. 

That was the only explanation you were willing to believe. 

He had been late. The town was large and the streets busy. When minutes turned to hours, you began to worry. Your nails were bitten to nubs before you could take the anticipation no longer. It had been decades since you agreed to meet up on the Path. Not once had he missed a meeting. Of course there was the creeping thought that he had not wanted to see you, but you quickly pushed those useless emotions down before they could get out of hand. You needed to find Eskel and make sure he was alright. 

You tried his usual inn and asked the innkeeper if she had seen any witchers pass by. The look she gave you made your blood boil but she directed you to where a witcher was lodging for the night. His room was the one closest to the stables. The smell of damp hay, horses, and the usual unwashed stable boy made the hairs in your nose curl.

Your knuckles knocked the door, your senses finding another beyond. You could hear his heart beating slowly just past the door. “Eskel?” You made your voice low, knowing he could hear you. “Are you alright? I waited by the road just as I’ve done the year before. You weren’t there.” You sucked in a breath when the faintest skip of a heartbeat could be heard. “Was it something I did?” 

You stumbled forward as the door suddenly swung open. There he was, your darling witcher in the doorway, his head wrapped with gray muslin. “You haven't done a single thing to keep me from you.” He leaned his weight on the doorframe, chest bare, and medallion hanging on his neck. Eskel made no mention of his face covering. 

“Then why did you not want to see me?” You searched for his lips, the quirk of a smile or the downturn of a frown. There was nothing. Only his eyes poked through gaps in the fabric. They were clouded as if by the effects of a potion or illness. “Did something happen to you? Did your last hunt keep you here?” Your eyes searched his form for any wounds, any fractures or broken bones. Your hands moved forward like a moth drawn to a fire, rough fingertips alert for inconsistencies. 

He only groaned at the contact. Not from pain. You would have known if you caused him harm then. “N-no. Not the last hunt.” His hands left the door frame. They reached for yours, enclosed and encapsulated them. He kept them warm. 

“Then what? Why are you hiding your beautiful face from me? What have I done to have such a privilege revoked?”

Eskel lowered his head. The floor was apparently more riveting than your conversation. “You don’t want to see me.” You could barely hear him despite being in front of him, his voice was so small. “Not now. You’ll think I'm a monster.” 

You were never more taken aback in your life. “Monster?” The words seemed foreign in your mouth when in reference to Eskel. “My love, I would never think of you that way. You are a pushover and a teasing bastard but not a monster.” Taking a risk, you took a step forward. “Who told you that?” Your fingers brushed the edge of the muslin. 

“I-it’s what I am now. My face is marred beyond recognition. I don’t even see myself. There is only this beast who stares back at me.” 

“Then am I a beast as well? Because my face is littered with more scars than I can count. Do you consider me a monster?” You peered up at Eskel wanting his most honest answer. You both knew the other would be able to tell the difference between a lie and the truth. 

“N-No. But it’s not the same—”

“How is it different, my love?” You tugged the muslin away. The fabric fell soundlessly onto the ground. Beneath it was your beautiful Eskel. He had the same burry, teary eyes, the same thick brows, and the same plush lips. The right side of his face was new to you, but it was not a horror. You well and truly loved him all the same. 

“Please don’t hate me.” 

“I don’t think I am physically capable of doing such a thing.” You were the first to lean forward for a kiss but he met you halfway. The sewn skin had a different texture to what you were used to. It was all the incentive you needed to explore Eskel’s mouth anew. An experience you would never tire of. “I love you, darling.” 

[pterodactylterrace]

In Another Life

Title: In Another Life

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Rating: T

Warning: Cannon level violence, major character death, grief and loss, mourning

Summary: How is he supposed to move on with everything he’s lost?

~*~

It was a gnawing loneliness he felt when Eskel came back down the mountain after… after what happened. His brothers were gone. Lambert was struck down by the wild hunt; Geralt having vanished into a swamp never to be heard from again. Vesemir was another victim of the wild hunt. His youngest brother and his father were both taken from him in one night. Ciri went to face the white frost, and never came back. Eskel was… alone.

The first few months were the worst. He fell into a haze of contracts and drinking. Anything to keep his mind occupied. 

The second year he had forced himself to face what had happened. Even broken-hearted and drunk out of his mind, Lambert had managed to describe where Aiden was buried well enough for Eskel to find it. He laid Lambert’s silver sword to rest there. Now a part of them would always be together. He hoped Lambert found a peace in the next world that he was never afforded in this one. He deserved that much. His life was one series of horrible events after the next. From his abusive father, to being claimed by the law of surprise, then the trials that almost killed him. Aiden had been the one good thing he clung to in his life. Having him ripped away over something so silly was cruel.

Vesemir’s journal he kept tucked away. He would trace his fingers over the worn cover on long, restless nights, when he couldn’t get his mind to just relax. Vesemir had been a constant in his life for as long as he could remember. Having him be gone just felt… wrong. Vesemir was supposed to be the Witcher that made it. The one that dies in his bed at a ripe old age. He wasn’t supposed to be taken from him. 

Geralt’s business has been more tedious to attend to. He had mentioned a winery he owned in Toussiant, insisting Eskel visit sometime. Eskel just thought he would be visiting with Geralt. Barnaby had been hesitant when he had found Eskel looking across the lands, wistfully imagining Geralt wandering around. He would look so out of place here. That thought made his chest clench and his throat tighten in grief. He wished more than anything he could have seen that. Wished Lambert, Vesemir and Ciri were all there, too, watching Geralt try to pretend he didn’t feel awkward in this strange surrounding. Lambert would mock him. Call him pretty boy and tell him to quit showing off. Vesemir would cuff him upside the head for that. Ciri would find the whole thing hilarious. They would be together.

Barnaby had taken notice of his amber eyes and wolf medallion, quickly deducing that he was one of the brothers Geralt had told him about. He had been solemn in handing over the note, Geralt’s handwriting staring back at him. It declared that Corco Bianco was his now. He knew he wasn’t coming back when he went into that swamp. The bastard. Eskel never got the chance to say goodbye to his oldest and closest friend. His brother. 

The portrait of Geralt was enough to make him laugh until he couldn’t breathe. He decided to leave it up for a while at least. He slept in the guest loft for the first few nights, having to work himself up to sleep in the master bedroom. It felt more foreign than he had thought. He hasn’t slept at all the first couple of nights. It took some intensive sword practice and a good meal before he could settle down enough to sleep by the third night. 

He tucked away Vesemir’s journal after a year off the path. He knew he needed to go back out, but he figured he deserved some time off to get his head on straight before setting out again. In the trunk with Vesemir’s journal went Lambert’s gwent deck. He wished Barnaby his best, warning him that he may not be back for quite some time, if at all. 

Drowners, wyverns, forktails, nekkers, griffins, wraiths. The contracts kept blending together after a while. He let himself shed a few tears after his first completed contract. It had been a rather interesting affair, and he found himself recounting the details that night after recording it in his journal. A story he would never tell to his brothers. One that would never be told over a mug of ale during a cold winter's night in Kaer Morhen. He promised himself he would be stronger the next time. 

It was unexpected meeting her. Eskel had given up on his dream of a family long ago. He couldn’t remember if it was after his trials, or after his face was mangled, only that he had resigned himself to a life alone what felt like a lifetime ago. Who knows? For a human, maybe it was a lifetime.

She had calmed the grief stricken storm of his mind, helping him to find a peace he could never achieve on the path. He found himself visiting her often, taking detours when he could just so he could see her. On long, lonely nights he would think back to his head pillowed in her lap as she gently stroked his hair. 

He made his decision before she even finished speaking. She had tears in her eyes when she addressed him as he prepared to leave one morning. “Please.” Eskel had asked her what she meant, and the dam had given way. She explained how it felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest every time he left, not knowing when he would come back. A few days? Months? Never? It was a gamble he forced her to take each time he left. 

“You’ve earned rest, my love. You don’t have to go anymore.”

For her, he laid down his swords. He tucked them away in the chest in the vineyard Geralt had left him, right next to Vesemir’s journal and Lambert’s cards. He faced himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. He no longer wore his armor, a simple tunic and trousers taking their place. His hair had long since grown out and was now kept tied behind his head. He watched his fingers trace over his scarred face in the mirror, the only thing left of the life he had left behind him. 

Most days, he was fine. He could laugh, joke and enjoy himself. He let himself live in the moment, to drink it in and let happiness wash over him. This was far from the life he thought he would have, but it filled him with a joy he never knew he could have. Then, something would happen and he would be reminded of his old life. His family and how he was the last of them. Those days he would spend with his head in her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

The storm would pass. Time would heal his heart, just as it did all other wounds. Hopefully soon. 

~*~

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[juliya3dangel]

Witcher and Princess ❤

Illustration of my favorite fanfiction

Original uncensored art on DaviantArt

"До чего же робкая и застенчивая. Прямо маленький хрупкий олененок, зажатый в угол изголодавшимся волком. Эскель не ждал столкнуться с ней этой ночью, но раз пошло такое дело… Стараясь не спугнуть девушку, ведьмак медленно вскинул руку, аккуратно касаясь ее волос. Словно шелк заскользил по сухой и мозолистой ладони. Выверяя каждое движение, мужчина медленно заправил серебристую прядь за маленькое розовое ушко, щекотно проводя по тому кончиками пальцев. Сердце княжны лихорадочно колотилось в груди. Зрачки расширились до такой степени, что почти поглотили собой ясную лазурь ее глаз. Решение созревало в голове ведьмака не так долго, чтобы он успел взвесить все «За» и «Против». Плевать сейчас и на здравый смысл, и на отчаянный риск стать козлом отпущения. Если все обернется не так, как мужчина рисовал у себя в голове, он окажется единственным, кто виноват во всех грехах. Возможно навсегда потеряет друга, возможно возненавидит себя за проявленную слабость и за то, что пошел у нелепой фантазии на поводу. Но сейчас он мог думать только об одной вещи. Рука ведьмака неожиданно спустились к горлу, сжимая пальцы с такой силой, что девушка инстинктивно приоткрыла рот, пытаясь вдохнуть. Следом раздался раскатистый звон — пустой кувшин выскользнул из дрожащих рук, разбиваясь под ногами на мелкие осколки. Не рассчитав сил, мужчина грубо дернул Цири на себя, после чего порывисто прижался к губам. Горячий язык беспрепятственно и нагло пробрался в рот княжны, вынуждая ту испуганно запищать. Слишком откровенный и грязный поцелуй для такой юной и неопытной барышни. Но если ей не по нраву, почему же она тогда даже не пыталась его остановить?"

Fanfic "Только никому не говори" by Catharsis-Triona on ficbook.net

[keen-on-euphemisms]

(Decided to post some bits of the fic that I'm rewriting. In this one - a little glimpse at baby witchers)

Eskel looked at the huge teeth, some of the fangs the size and girth of his palm, and thought to himself: am I supposed to take down that ?! Are they fucking kidding me, this is impossible!

Geralt beside him looked like he was in disbelief as well. No way anyone can beat that thing. Other boys from their group also looked puzzled, scared even. Vesemir just silently looked at the huge draconid’s skeleton displayed in one of the study rooms of Kaer Morhen unbiased by the group's mood. The yellowish white of the bones trembled slightly in the candlelight so it seemed like the creature was still alive and creeping. Eskel looked at the spiked spine cords and felt dizzy. Long, almost delicate bones of the wings were placed on the thin ropes attached to the ceiling so that draconid could be displayed in all of its glory. He had no doubt this thing could swallow him whole, small kid as he was, if it felt hungry enough. If not, well, it definitely could snap him in half with those teeth and then swallow. Suddenly Geralt sneezed from the dust, aggressively scratching his nose.

- Geralt, tell us about this beast. - Vesemir said without turning his head to the boy. Geralt shrugged and stopped scratching. Eskel looked at the draconid’s teeth again.

- Um… It’s a draconid. Poisonous…

- Venomous. - Old witcher corrected with no emotion behind it.

- Venumomus. - Geralt mumbled. - Um. The fork on the tail is venomumus. That’s why it’s called forktail.

- Wrong. - Vesemir didn’t even flinch.

- Wrong?..

- If you were in the open field with this one, I bet you’d be dead in a blink of an eye. - Vesemir finally turned to the boy. His face was blank, but yellow eyes flickered in the dark of the room. Eskel suddenly wondered how many witchers died this way and how many of them were taught by this old wolf. - You will study the bestiary entries on draconids and learn it by heart. Every single line, boy. And to motivate you - no dinners until you do so. Someday you’ll thank me if I'm still alive to listen to your gibberish. - Vesemir turned to the skeleton again, ignoring the pout ready to go off Geralt's lips but never did - he (and his tanned back) knew better. Today's sentence was final. - This beast is bigger than a forktail. More venomous. Faster. More clever, more agile. Definitely more aggressive. Has different habits from a common forktail. Attacks in different patterns. But a witcher can take it down.

- ...did you ever? - the weak voice of one of the boys, Eskel didn’t catch who that was from the loud rush of blood in his head. Not him, not Geralt, but that was the question that he wanted to ask as well. Vesemir suddenly looked at Eskel - like if he could sense he’s so afraid that he could pass out any minute. Maybe he did - older boys said that witchers can smell emotions.

- I did take down this one. - old witcher replied simply. There was no pride or bragging behind those words. Just stating the fact. Collective sigh left boys’ lungs. Vesemir turned to the skeleton again. - Listen closely and remember this beast, you poor mugs. This is…

[whitewolfandthefox]

The Black Blade Chapter 5

Summary: One of the hardest things to do is to watch someone you love suffer. It’s even worse when that suffering comes at your own hands. The Witchers have a very difficult decision ahead of them, one that will change the course of the Continent. Series Masterlist Words: 3723 Warnings: Suicide, blood, death, injury. All story warnings. A/N. Holy crap, it’s been almost two years since I’ve updated this story. My apologies for disappearing off the face of the earth. My goal of posting slightly more was an epic fail. I finished my Bachelor of Education as well as got a full time job within months of each other, so I didn’t have time to breath, much less think. I hope to be back on a semi regular basis now! As per usual, huge thanks to my beta @thegodsneverwantedme​

The Blood Moon

They call it the Blood Moon. It’s a month filled with heartbreak, death, and grief; brothers hunting sisters through the wilderness. Each time a Witcher returns to Kaer Morhen, he carries two swords with a medallion wrapped around them, a shroud of grief sitting over him. Funeral pyres become a common sight, the initiates tasked with ensuring there is enough wood available for one at a moment's notice. 

Vesemir disappears into his office every time a hunting party returns, often bloodied and injured, occasionally missing a member. Those evenings are even more somber, two passings being mourned. Tonight is one of such evenings, Geralt joining his mentor with two glasses of ale. 

“There was nothing you could have done, Vesemir,” Geralt says softly, trying to break the man out of his reverie. “We didn’t know that this would happen, and we still don’t know where it stems from.” “I know,” Vesemir sighs, sipping his ale. He looks out the window, not seeing the trees that surround the mountain on which Kaer Morhen is built. “I could have stopped this, right at the beginning.”

Geralt sits up in his chair, frowning at Vesemir. “What do you mean?”

“All those years ago, when they first wanted to try the Trials on Leto, they asked me first,” Vesemir starts. “They asked if I thought she would survive them, if I thought she would be strong enough to be a Witcher.”

He pauses, the silence stretching tight across the room. “I said yes.”

“You couldn’t have known, Vesemir,” Geralt protests. “You had no idea things would turn out this way. We all knew she would be fine, we were so proud of her.”

The silver haired Witcher stands and joins his mentor at the window. “Any of us could have said no, we could have stopped the experiments. But we didn’t. This is on all of us, if you want to place blame that far back.���

Vesemir stays silent, the minutes passing slowly. “She was mine though.”

Geralt shifts, the silence stretching as he waits for the older Witcher to speak.

“I should have protected her, I had a duty to protect her,” Vesemir sighs, running a hand over his face. “I should have known better. Especially once she came out different. She had different magic, her eyes were silver; that should have been the first sign things weren’t the same.”

“How were you to have known?” Geralt asks gently. “The magicians didn’t know, and they were the ones doing all of the experiments and the research. And besides, she was Leto, she was your Wolf, everyone wanted her to succeed. She was- is- all of ours.”

“I know, pup,” Vesemir uses the nickname he normally reserves for new, scared initiates. “But I still can’t help but feel responsible for what’s happened.”

The conversation dies off, Geralt having no response for the guilt that Vesemir shoulders, that they all shoulder. He stands in silence, watching out the window with his mentor as they grieve the loss of their sisters, the loss of their friends.

**~*~*~*~**

“Elliya!” Zane cries, trying to get the Witcher’s attention as she attacks a village. Can’t let her kill anymore than she has. Need to draw her away. He and Illja exchange glances, hardening their faces and their hearts as the woman turns to face them, a snarl on her face.

“Have you come to be enlightened?” Elliya asks, staring down at the two Witchers as she ignores the panicked villagers running away behind her. “Have you finally realized your true calling?”

“Elliya, please. This isn’t you,” Zane pleads, watching as Illja circles to the side to try and cut their sister off. “You’re ill, please let us help you.”

The Witchers are loath to kill their sisters, but realize it may be the only option. Still, they have to try to save them, to know that they are truly irredeemable before they are forced to kill one of their own. They flinch as they hear the maniacal laughter burst from their sister, madness flashing in her eyes.

“Help me?” Elliya asks with a sneer. “Help me? You can’t help me. You’re here to kill me, you’re here to kill my sisters. I’ve heard what you have been doing, Witchers.”

Zane’s heart falls at the words, pain lancing through his chest. “We want to help you,” he whispers. “We don’t know how. We can’t let you keep killing the humans, though. They don’t deserve what you’re doing.” “They’re murderers,” Elliya hisses, eyes alight with madness and rage. “They’re killing the earth, killing everything. They need to be eradicated.” “Why?” Zane pleads, trying to get through to his sister. “Why, though? Some are doing that, yes. But think of the others! Just yesterday, I saw a human helping a bird who had a broken wing.” “The minority,” Elliya scoffs. “The majority are killing this earth and everything on it, they need to die in order for everything else to survive.” She shifts her grip on her sword, prowling closer. “You fail to see the light, and for this, you must die.”

“Elliya, please,” Zane tries one more time, slowly lifting his sword as his sister shifts. “You don’t have to do this.

“I have no other choice,” Elliya’s voice goes flat before she launches herself at Zane and the other Witcher with him, going for the kill strike.

Zane dances backwards, hardening his heart for what he has to do next. Every sister who has come back to themself has begged us to kill them. We’re only doing what we must, there’s no way to help them. I wish there was.

The Witcher falls silent as he throws himself into the deadly dance, Illja trading off with him when they need a break. He cries out in pain as Elliya gets through his defences, a shallow cut along his bicep seeping through his sleeve as he takes a step back while Illja tries to get behind their sister.

Elliya falters as she hears Zane’s cry, guilt flashing through her eyes as her bitter lemon and cedar scent softens. “Zane?” she whispers, staring at the Witcher.

“It’s me,” Zane says softly, lowering his sword somewhat as recognition flashes in Elliya’s eyes. “It’s me, it’s your brother. I’m here.” “I- I- I don’t know what’s happening,” Elliya stammers, bringing a hand to her forehead as she screws her face up in pain. “Zane, what’s happening?” “It’s okay,” Zane soothes, slowly approaching his sister, heart aching as he sees pain on her face. “It’s okay, I’m right here. Let me help you, Elliya.”

Elliya stares at Zane, cocking her head as she seems to listen to something no one else can hear. The male Witcher continues to creep closer, keeping up a soothing stream of reassurance. Right as he gets within arms reach Elliya’s expression changes, her face going dead as rage and madness flares in her eyes. “Liar!” she hisses before gasping as Illja drives his sword through her chest from behind. Her golden eyes clear as he lowers her to the ground, Zane coming forward to cup her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” Zane whispers brokenly, tears trailing down his cheeks as Illja pulls his sword out and holds Elliya in his lap.

“Sleep, sister,” Illja rumbles sadly, arranging her so she’s laying comfortably as he holds her close. “We’ll stay with you. You can rest now.” “Thank you,” Elliya breathes, slowly going limp in her brother’s arms. “Thank you. Tell the others it’s not- it’s not- we don’t want…”

Zane leans forward, listening carefully to his sister’s words before letting out a sob as her eyes go glassy and she lets out a soft sigh. He bends over her as her head falls limp to the side, Illja curling around her body as he cries.

“We had to,” Zane whispers, holding tight to Illja as they mourn their sister. “We had to. She was suffering, she didn’t want to do this. We had to do this, Illja.” Illja nods, gripping Zane’s shoulder as he takes comfort in the fact that they were able to save Elliya, even though it was through death.

**~*~*~**

Ifera sits in a tree, watching as the Witchers prowl through the forest looking for her. Amateurs. She shakes her head as they bumble around, making all sorts of noise. How did they ever think they were going to catch me, much less a monster, if everyone can hear them coming from miles away?

She jumps down from her perch on the branch, listening to the soft whispers in her mind. I can see now, it’s all become so clear. The humans are a plague, they’re destroying our world. They hunt and kill and destroy, they need to be eradicated. Ifera prowls after the Witchers on silent feet, pulling her swords out as she follows. She follows them into a darker part, listening to the soft, sweet voice that whispers to her.

“Witchers,” she calls sweetly, nearly laughing as they spin to face her while their hands jump to their weapons. “Oh, you poor darlings. Did I sneak up on you and scare you?” “Ifera,” the dark haired Witcher calls to her, a pleading tone in his voice. “Please, let us help-”

Ifera cuts him off with a sharp gesture, shaking her head. “Don’t even start,” she growls softly. “I’ve heard what you’ve all been doing to our sisters. Hunting us down like cattle, killing us one by one. You’re not here to help, you’re here to kill me. Don’t try to pretend.” “It’s not like that,” the other Witcher pleads, blonde hair reflecting the sunlight. “We’re your family, Ifera, we don’t want to do this. But you can’t keep on like this.” “And why not?” Ifera prowls forward, letting her sword drag on the ground. “The humans are killing everything else. You’ve seen how the world has changed since they’ve grown so far.” Kill them all, take them out. Let us run free, where we don’t have to hide. There’s nothing good left in the humans, they destroy everything they touch.

The blonde Witcher falters, clearly at a loss for words from her question. “Ifana-” he starts, but she cuts him off as she leaps at him, sword raised. “Fuck off,” Ifera growls, sword bouncing off the Witcher’s as she pursues him. “You don’t understand, you’ll never understand. I have to do this.” “Why?” The dark haired Witcher demands, darting in to catch her sword when the blonde Witcher trips. She growls in frustration, just wanting to ignore the questions.

“Because,” Ifera cries, swiping randomly at the Witcher, Andrezj, her mind suddenly supplies, to try and get rid of his questions. She falters slightly as the name appears, taking a moment to recover. The whispers increase in intensity, sudden guilt warring with the chaotic rage that's a constant in her chest and she shakes herself, trying to rid the emotions.

Andrezj takes advantage of her momentary distraction, darting forward and landing a blow on her shoulder. Ifera lets out a yell of pain, the scent of copper filling the air as she leaps backwards and lets out a growl.

“You’ll pay for that,” she resumes her circling, switching hands on her sword as pain runs down her arm. “You won’t leave this place alive.” Andrezj and the blonde Witcher exchange glances but stay silent, Ifera letting out a growl of frustration at that. She jumps forwards, throwing herself back into the battle and stepping forward and stabbing at the blonde one's stomach. Her sword is knocked away before Andrezj steps in and she finds herself on the defensive, frustration continuing to grow. She can feel the blood dripping down her arm, the scent of copper mixing with the fear scent of rust in the air. She growls happily at the scent before startling as her heart rate increases, realizing the fear is coming from her. What?

Ifera’s eyes widen at the realization and she stumbles again, fatigue and pain dragging at her limbs. No, I won’t submit. They’re wrong, I’ve seen the light. Humans are a plague. Aren’t they? She gets lost in her thoughts again, the tip of her sword slowly drifting towards the ground. This is the right thing to do. It is. Memories of laughing and playing with her brothers, with Andrezj, suddenly burst into her mind from a long forgotten place, and she raises her eyes to see Andrezj and Viktor in front of her.

“Help,” the whisper falls from her lips, Ifera feeling her legs go out from under her. She doesn’t register the pain that jolts up her legs as she hits the ground, hands flying to her forehead as the whispers war with the memories flooding her mind. “It’s okay, Ifera, we’re both here,” she feels Viktor’s arms go around her, supporting her as she fights with herself. She leans heavily into him, his bright cedar and cinnamon scent filling her nose. My brothers. My brothers are here. They can help me. Oh gods, what have I done? I’m supposed to protect, not kill.

Ifera lets out a sob, looking up at Viktor with terrified eyes as the scent of her fear increases in strength. She clings to him weakly with one hand, feeling Andrezj bracket her other side as his ginger and cedar scent fills her nose.

“Please, kill me,” Ifera begs, feeling Viktor shush her and slowly rock her as he rumbles soothingly. “No, please, you don’t understand. I can’t fight it.” She feels the soothing rumble turn to one of concern, burnt caramel worry mixing with her brothers’ scents. “You can’t fight what, Ifera?”

“The voices, the presence, please,” Ifera can feel herself start to slip, the familiar feeling of darkness taking over. She writhes in Viktor’s arms, clinging to him before ripping herself out of his arms.

Andrezj lets out a startled shout as he’s knocked backwards, surprise turning to concern as Ifera grabs for her sword. She turns her gaze on them, a mixture of apology and madness flitting behind her eyes. She stands with her blade in hand, emotions draining away as she watches her brothers scramble for their swords.

“I’m sorry,” Ifera whispers as she raises her sword before turning the blade on herself, pain blooming as she opens her throat. She feels her knees go out again, the pain quickly turning to cold as she collapses to the ground. She doesn’t hit though, Andrezj catching her and pulling her into his arms as tears slide down his cheeks.

It’s okay. She tries to smile at him, raising a shaky hand to her brothers’ cheeks. She doesn’t notice the bloody fingerprints she leaves on their skin, eyes starting to fall shut as she grows tired. I did it for you. I did it to keep everyone safe. I’m so tired. I’m safe now, I don’t have to listen anymore. I won.

The last thing Ifera feels is a sense of satisfaction as the world starts to grow dark, her brothers’ scents in her nose. A warmth cradles her as she starts to go limp, listening to the soft cries from her Witchers before she feels no more.

**~*~*~**

Issori, Jaka, Iona, Charenthi, Fissa. Alek crosses the names off with a heavy heart, marking each funeral pyre that burns. “There’s so many names,” he whispers, staring at the list. “Too many,” Kamil agrees softly, closing his eyes from where he sits in his chair. “How many are left?” “Not many,” Alek replies, glancing at where Vesemir stands with his back to them, having stood motionless at the window since the council members gathered. “All of the parties are out, they should be back soon. We’ll burn our last pyres within the month, hopefully.” “We still don’t know what’s causing this?” Natan asks, looking around the room at the other senior Witchers. “No,” Kamil shakes his head, sighing softly. “Tissai and I have been over everything we can think of, all we know is that it’s connected to something with their magic. They embody the chaos, rather than harness it. Something happens when they do that, but no one else has used magic the way they do, so we can’t know for sure what is happening.”

“It will be over soon,” Alek nods, running a hand through his hair. “And we won’t put any more girls through the trials.” “We never should have in the first place,” Vesemir’s voice is low when he speaks, the Witcher not turning from the window. “I never should have let this happen.” “Vesemir, you couldn’t have known,” Natan says immediately, shaking his head. “We had no idea they would be any different than us, that this would happen.” “I should have seen it with Leto, when she changed,” Vesemir finally turns away from the window, looking at the other Witchers with pained eyes. “I raised her, I knew her. I knew she was different after the trials, after she learned her powers, and I didn’t intervene.” I never should have let her go through the Trials in the first place. Gods, what was I thinking? Our sisters’ deaths are all on my hands.

“She was following the Path, everyone changes,” Natan says gently. “You’ve seen what Witchers look like when they come back from their first few years, everyone changes regardless of male or female.”

“I knew her though,” Vesemir whispers. “I raised her, she was mine. I knew her better than anyone else, I should have known that something was wrong, more so than just being on the Path.” “No one could have known,” Alek says softly, not sure what else to say to help the guilt that is clear in Vesemir’s frame. “You couldn’t have known.” “It’s too late now,” Vesemir murmurs wearily, turning back to the window. “She’ll face the same fate as her sisters.” “You don’t have to be the one to go,” Natan says, reopening the weeks old debate. “She’s your daughter, Vesemir, you don’t have to do this. One of us will go.” “I trained her myself, it has to be me,” Vesemir shakes his head. “She won’t let anyone else close enough, I taught her too well.”

“At least let someone go with you,” Natan pushes. “Take Geralt, take someone. Don’t go alone.”

“Alright,” Vesemir gives in, knowing that he’ll be followed regardless of his decision. “I’ll take Geralt with me, but no one else. She won’t trust us if there’s others with us.” “Thank you,” Natan says softly, making a note to go speak with Geralt. “It’s better with two. Just in case.” We’ve lost too many already. We need our Chief to lead us through this. “I know,” Vesemir nods, settling his hands at his back as he watches the initiates train below. “I know.” The council takes the dismissal for what it is, slowly filing out of the room. Natan pauses for just a moment, glancing at Vesemir before going to find Geralt. He needs to go. Leto was Vesemir’s pride, it’s going to destroy him to have to kill her.

Natan finds the silver haired Witcher out on the ramparts, where he would often go as an initiate. “Vesemir is going to bring you with him,” he says softly, coming to lean his elbows on the stone as he stands next to the younger Witcher.

“I thought he would take me,” Geralt nods, continuing to look out over the Trail. “He won’t take anyone else.” “He wanted to go by himself initially,” Natan replies softly. “I don’t think he’ll come back if he does.” “He won’t,” Geralt shakes his head. “I’ll bring him back, keep an eye on him.” Natan nods at that, sighing under his breath. “I wish he’d let someone else go.” “Not with her,” Geralt murmurs. “He considers this whole thing his fault, our sisters. Leto was the first.” Still remember when she went through her Trials. We were so proud of our little sister. We all should have said something.

“I know,” Natan says, glancing at Geralt. “It’s not your fault either. No one could have known.” “No, but we’re the ones who didn’t see it sooner,” Geralt looks back at the strategic master, gaze serious. “This is on all of us.” “It is,” Natan nods in agreement, before looking back out at the surrounding area. “You make sure you come back as well. We all know you were close with Leto, almost as much as Vesemir.” Geralt smiles grimly at that, looking down at his scarred hands. “She was my little sister, before she was all of ours,” he murmurs, eyes glazing over with memories. “I remember when Vesemir came home with her, she was just a wee little thing.”

“She was,” Natan agrees softly. “She was little, but fierce. Drove us all up the wall, keeping her out of trouble.” “She got into the weapons room and sent everyone into a panic,” Geralt laughs sadly. “We always knew she would be good at this. She was one of the best.”

“Still is,” Natan murmurs. “Be careful, Geralt, okay. Make sure you both come home.” We can’t afford to lose anyone else.

“I will,” Geralt turns a sober gaze on Natan. “I’ll make sure he gets home.” He won’t be the one to kill her, if I can help it. That would destroy him, having to kill his daughter.

“I trust you,” Natan nods, offering the silver haired Witcher a warrior’s handshake before turning and leaving him in peace before he has to leave.

**~*~*~**

Geralt lashes the last few of his bags onto Roach’s saddle, sighing softly as he goes through his list one more time. He waits patiently for Vesemir, glancing at the gathered Witchers around him. Know they all want to come with us, to not have Vesemir have to do this. Vesemir slowly makes his way out of Kaer Morhen, looking straight ahead as he takes his reins from Geralt.

“Everything is packed?” he asks gruffly, mounting his horse.

“Yes, Chief,” Geralt nods, mounting Roach alongside his mentor. “We can go.” “Good,” Vesemir nods, urging his mount towards the gates and down the Path. I’m coming, Leto. I’m sorry, my Wolf. This is all my fault. He focuses on the journey ahead of him, staying silent as Geralt rides at his side in search of his daughter.

**~*~*~**

Witcher Tag List

@riviawitch3r​ / @scarlettwitcher​ / @ayamenimthiriel​ / @uncoolcloudyhead​ / @secretsthathauntus​ / @vintage-mind-young-body​ / @creamysacrilege / @hina-chans-stuff / @bastardfruitsandbasil​ / @shewritesinthethirdperson​ / @widowvinter​ / @unnamedmaincharacter​​ / @thenocturnalsyren​​ / @loudlycolorfulkryptonite​ / @whatawildone​ / @geraltmrwitcher / @psychosupernatural​ / @chickennooget69​ / @just-antiyou​ / @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot / @onlyhenrys​ / @l-km07​ / @iloveyouyen / @itsemmyb​ / @persephonehemingway​ / @summerartist4life​ / @thedragonsbirthgiver​ / @blackrockshooter780​ / @lamnothome​ / @jade10077​ / @dreaming-about-starfleet / @ginreagann17 / @xmother-mortemx​  / @logan-loves-bullfrogs​ / @sageandberries-png​ / @morelikebyesexual​ / @maan24​ / @winchesterandpie​ / @my-secret-life-1​ / @abbie-hp13​ / @why-is-it-always-raining​ / @poisonous-widow​ / @vanxbi / @luvmeijii​ / @elsasshole​ / @fandomfanatic97​ / @peyton-keating​ / @introvertedmouse​ / @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ / @faewihngs​ / @ashleyl30​ / @oce4ndepths / @heavenlysnowflake​ / @itsbebachan​ / @ab-haya​ / @alwayshave-faith​ / @witty-wallflower​ / @dogslednation / @randomasgardian21​/ @disasteren / @theawkwardpedestrian / @nellaphine​ / @snapessecretdiary​ @circesgirl10​ @kmuir1​ @melemel1 @MHAJinx175 @thatbeautifulreward​ @victoriabauer619 @lightwoodandywifey @a-lil-bit-nuts​ @massivewitchfire @fictionalhooman @black-rose-29​

The Black Blade Tag list: 

@raspberrydreamclouds / @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​  / @wastingmypotential​  / @sweetandspiky​ / @queenxxxsupreme​

[ladyannemarie5]

Jaskier to Radovid: I'm so happy we can finally be together. Now I can finally introduce you to the rest of my harem.

Radovid: Your what?!

Jaskier: This is Geralt, you've heard of him in my songs, the great White Wolf, he won't hesitate to run you through with his sword.

This is Yennefer, my favorite sorceress, she can turn you into a toad if she wants to.

This big guy here is Eskel, he looks grumpy but he's a cinnamon roll that can rip you in half.

Here's Lambert, my favorite idiot who can blow you to pieces without hesitation.

And last but not least, my dear Vespula, don't let her pretty face fool you, she can leave you with no inheritance if she gets upset.

Oh, and how can I forget my dear princess, my niece Cirilla, she can make all your brains come out of your mouth.

But don't worry, sweetie, you're doing great.

[islenthatur]

So we all know the stories where Jaskier collects Witchers like dnd players and dice, how could he not!? And we all know that the ones where Witchers collect Jaskiers friendship too.

But honestly, I just want a fic where the Witchers mounts and lil bleater just collect the noisy-colourful-being-withsnacks...

Animals are smart okay, the horses talk to eachother because how else would they get civilised conversation and of course they'd brag about who carried the heaviest for longest, how many times their stupid people got hurt...

Roach starts off complaining about the noisy-being that followed them one day that just never stopped making noises or trying to pet her. The years pass and the complaints turn into fondess and she comes home more full and cared for than she had in a long time and her witcher does too.

The others, Scorpion, horse, lil bleater all want to meet the human, try to ease their own witchers burdens and just... does.

Jaskier is away from geralt for a competition, and suddenly, he has a very insistent goat bleating at him, pushing him off the road towards Eskel who was injured.

It just goes on from there... Lambert's mount Horse finds him, lips at the pants roach knew held sugar cubes and both Lambert and Jaskier stare at eachother awkwardly while he feeds horse the cubes.

Word travels between the mounts, a hawk that was a familiar to a Griffin flys down and rests on Jaskiers lute while playing, scaring the fuck out of him but shows him to another injured witcher.

Then the mountain happens

Roach loses her horse mind in anger at her Witcher, there would be no more soft songs, no more flowers in her main or apples, her Noisy-foal gone...

The animals revolt, it's a hard season for all witchers and when Geralt gets back after Cintra and Jaskier is with him the animals just go absolutely ballistic in joy and surround him

All the witchers are just watching with the most adorable wtf faces ever.

[cosmos-coma]

Hi!! Can I request an Eskel one shot where he fell in love with the reader (a Viper witcheress who is homeless since it disbanded) and he invites her back to Kaer Morhen for winter to introduce her to his brothers. She's also a great cook and the wolfs says she's a keeper. 😆

Vipers and Wolves

A/N: Ive never written a witcher!reader before, but it wasn't bad at all! I was hit with the comedic bug for this one, It's not super romantic all around but it is strong in found family!

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Language, very quick editing

___________________________________

It was in the heat of summer when you first met. 

You had been laying under a great big oak tree as the rain pattered down around you. The fire warmed your face as you set a heaping pile of damp fuel beside it, hoping it would dry in time to use it. Stray raindrops fell like tears from the leaves above you, making you shudder as one lucky one slid right down your back. 

“Ugh… stupid rain,” you complained to yourself as you set out your bedroll and started getting comfortable in your camp. 

The sun was beginning to set when you heard rustling far off in the distance, towards the middle of the forest. You were right outside of a small town so it was probably just a human, but people don't usually travel through the thick of the forest either. Your viper head medallion confirmed your suspicions as it lay motionless against your chest.

You stood cautiously and drew your steel sword as the sound of breaking twigs got closer and closer. A large dark silhouette moved within your vision as the sun was now halfway sunk on the horizon. As they got closer you could see it was actually a man on a large black horse, with… two swords on their back? Is it possible you really found another witcher?

You couldn’t believe your cat-like eyes. So many of you were lost after the sieges. So many of your brothers and sisters were killed defending your home from the onslaught of humans, and even then they couldn’t succeed. Your old home now was a wasteland of rocks and unlivable walls that held no more life. All the books and research your school did on the wild hunt… gone save for you and the few survivors. 

“ A fellow witcher.” You held your hand up in a friendly wave as you watched him dismount and come closer to the light of your campfire. 

Your breath escaped you as you saw the warmth of his Golden eyes lit by the fire, they were soft in a way that you didn’t often see from others, let alone witchers. Deep scars ravaged the right side of his cheek, tightly twisting his skin in jagged ways and notching his slightly chapped lips. 

“Ah, not every day you run across another witcher out in the field.” He smiled a bit as he nodded toward your swords. “Eskel, Wolf school.” He introduced himself and held out his hand. He seemed oddly trustworthy of you, but you suppose some people just have better judges of character. 

You dropped your sword back with your other belongings as you shook his hand in return. “Y/n, Viper school.” you smiled a bit as you spoke and motioned to your camp. “You’re, uh- I guess you’re welcome to make camp here too… means I have someone else to collect firewood for me.” you laughed a bit, gaining a small smile in return from the broad man.

He shook his head a bit as his brow furrowed, “isn’t there a town just a few minutes ride that way? Why don’t you get a room at the tavern there?” He asked, taking a seat across from you at the campfire as you sat down on your bedroll. 

“Can’t waste the money.” you said with a frown, “The viper school isn’t livable anymore so I have to hole up in a tavern all winter. I mean, I’ve found a nice place that’ll let me work to stay but, somehow money still seems to run far too thin by the end of the season so I need everything I can get.” 

Eskel watched as you stoked the fire carefully and added another log. He wasn't sure if it was the scar that ran across your nose that seemed to highlight your features, or perhaps it was the way you spoke that found him feeling exactly at home.  Maybe it was your subtle scent of lavender? No, no, it was your eyes for sure. Your eyes glowed in the firelight and danced with a fierce- yet gentle- determination, a dichotomy that Eskel rarely saw outside of his own eyes.

“Well… Do you mind having a guest at your campsite tonight? I’ll collect all the firewood you could ever need.”

---------

“Are you sure this is gonna be alright? I’m not sure…” You said as the tall standing walls of the Keep just crept into view over the hills. “They're not gonna be nearly as nice as you are, you're an exception…” You sighed.

“Oh, no. You’re right- they’re complete assholes, but I promise they’d never be like that to you. Not right away, anyways.” Eskel stifled a small laugh when you turned to scowl deeply at him. “I just mean to say… that as you become more like family they’re gonna treat you more like family. And that of course includes ruthless teasing from time to time.” He smiled and shrugged. 

Though you were fierce and skilled as a Witcher- and among the few women in your profession at that- you knew that you were intruding on another school, someone else's home with different customs and you felt like you needed to tread lightly lest you be asked to return to the oncoming winter season.

It took the rest of the day to finally reach the Keep’s arching gate and ride your horses through. You put them away in the stables, absolutely taking the opportunity to meet the famed Lil bleater along the way. 

A comfortable warmth washed over you as the doors to the great hall opened and a large fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the 3 men already inside. Eskel had told you more than enough about his brothers and his father figure. Geralt, the one with white hair and a scar down the eye who looks grumpy all the time, but can be cracked with a joke at Lambert's or Eskel's Expense. Lambert, smaller than the others and the stereotypical younger brothers, his heart lies in mischief and bomb-making. And finally, Vesemir, Who always- but especially after the sieges- stepped up as a sort of father figure to them and was always a little wary, but more than willing to give anyone a fair chance. 

“Eskel… Welcome back” Geralt greeted and held his mug up to his returning brother. 

“And friend..? Well, Hello..” Lambert said with raised eyebrows which quickly turned into a mischievous grin. Your fingers brushed Eskel’s hand before you could even think about it, inviting and asking for his hand to hold, to which he was quick to respond and intertwine his fingers with yours. You could tell it didn’t go unnoticed, but none of them said anything about it.

“And a Viper at that…Been a long time since I’ve seen any of you. I reckon there's even less of you than there is of us…” Vesemir observed out loud as he nodded and raised his hand in greeting. 

“You’d be right on that… Letho is the only other one of us I know to still be around.” You said with a hint of sadness in your voice, unlike that of what was expected of a witcher, even less than that of what a Viper should be. You were all made to be ruthless and cold, but for some reason, it just didn’t seem to stick with you for very long. 

“Well, welcome to the last of the wolves, I suppose. “ Geralt said with a nod to you, “we were all just arguing about whose turn it is to make dinner.” 

Eskel sighed and set his stuff on the table, “I’m not doing that after a full day of travel. I vote Lambert.” he proposed, getting met with Lambert’s loud and offended scoff. 

“What the FUCK, Eskel?” 

Geralt’s serious exterior cracked as a smile slipped onto his lips and he turned to Lambert with a smirk. “Well, Lambert. That’s two votes for you, one for me, and Vesemir couldn’t give a shit. Sooooo…” he said with a short laugh. 

“You guys are absolute dogshit,” Lambert complained, throwing his hands in the air in an exaggerated gesture. 

Now it was your turn to pipe up, “I don’t mind cooking…”, you said, looking between the small group of men. 

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. We’ve just spent days on horseback, you should rest..” Eskel tried to argue, but you quickly waved him off. 

“Nonsense. Part of my job at the tavern over winter was to cook for guests. I actually find it rather relaxing.” you said with a smile and a firm squeeze to his hand before you handed your pack over, “Which way to the kitchen?” 

“I’ll show you!” Lambert shot up faster than he probably ever had for a task, and quickly waved you on towards the Keep’s kitchen. Once out of earshot of his brothers and father he quietly thanked you for taking over the dreaded task and showed you everything you could need. 

It wasn’t too long before you were cooking up a storm and coming out of the kitchen with a sizzling pan and a steaming pot. Vesemir was kind enough to grab plates for everyone as the boys all began to crowd around. 

“Hmm, smells better than Geralt's cooking…” Lambert commented as he wafted the steam toward his face.

“Fuck that, it smells better than Vesemir’s cooking..” Eskel dared to say in front of the old man. But it was true, you put all you had into this dish. You figured that- like with many people- a wolf’s heart lies within its stomach. Of course having a full shelf of spices available to you helped a lot, some even that you hadn’t seen in circulation for many years.

Without another word, they all quickly served themselves up and began eating. It was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop all the up the stairs into the tower if you tried hard enough. Your nerves started twisting at your stomach as you got your own plate and still no one had said a word. Was it good? Was it bad? No, Lambert probably would have said so. 

“This…” Vesemir spoke, the first word since everyone had been served, “This is the first time they’ve been completely quiet at dinner in over 50 years…”, he said with a warm smile, more than you ever thought capable of the older man. “Your great food has given me the one thing I never thought I’d have again. Silent company..” He laughed a bit, now turning to Eskel. 

“She’s a keeper, you know that, right? If you show up next winter without her you’re gonna sleep in the stables.” Vesemir finished as he turned back to his plate. Lambert and Geralt mumbled agreements through full mouths and content hums as Eskel turned the slightest shade of pink. 

“Yes, I understand. I don’t need your threats to keep her around though,” Eskel said with a small smile as he reached for your hand above the table, in full view of everyone else. 

A smile spread across your face that you tried to hide as you took a bite of food, “Oh yeah, Eskel’s never gonna be rid of me at this rate…” 

_____________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut

Want to be included on the taglist? just DM me to let me know!

[writingmysanity]

hey! could i make a request for an eskel x short!reader? preferably the same witch reader you always have, just eskel making fun of their height difference and teasing them? (established relationship) ty, i love ur writing! :)

Five times he teased you about your height, the one time you get to tease him about his

Pairing: Eskel x reader

Word count: 2949

TW: slightly NSFW? alluding to it. Also, blood, canon level though.

A/N: Okay so this got a little out of hand. It is much longer than I meant it to be. I really hope you like it!!

Also... unbeta'd completely, if there are mistakes... so be it. Oops.

Silence washes over the forest as the last of the creature falls at your feet- your sword settled snugly into its chest. Eyeing it cautiously, you watch for any movement, nearly jumping when its clawed foot twitches, the last of life melting from its body. Huffing, you wipe your hands at your pants, nose scrunching in disgust at how its blood paints your skin, the stench turning your stomach as you turn away from it, not even bothering to retrieve your sword yet. 

“Esk?” you call gently, whisper swallowed by the shaking of the leaves, a sudden gust of wind cooling the splatter across your arms and face, making you shiver, absently wiping at the crimson liquid. 

“You…” There is a soft gasp, and a lull in his words as he hauls himself up slowly, using a tree as support before you rush over to him, hands shooting out to steady him. Golden eyes meet yours, a weak smile crossing his scarred face teasingly. “Red really brings out your eyes,” he chuckles before grunting in pain, staring irritably down at his arm, slashed by the creature's claws. 

Rolling your eyes, you lift his arm slightly, mumbling about keeping it elevated while you help him to the horses where all of your supplies are nicely packed away. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, you take on as much of his weight as you can, grumbling about headstrong witchers biting off more than they can chew. He just chuckles, shifting his arm to rest on top of your head, his smile stretching into an all out cheshire grin, eyes dancing with mirth. 

“What? You told me to keep it elevated.” you fight the urge to just drop him, eyebrow quirking up at him, unamused. 

“Hysterical.”

“I thought so.”

__

Huffing in pain, you limp towards camp, pausing to lean against a tree to take pressure off of your ankle for just a moment. Looking down, you cringe at the sight of red bleeding through your tunic. 

“Fuck,” you whine, pressing your hand on your stomach for pressure. “This was new.”

Hearing your voice, Eskel pokes his head out through the trees, a smile at the ready but sobers quickly. In a moment, he is at your side, kneeling. You ignore the fact that he also has to hunch over while kneeling to get a proper look at you. Straightening some, he just about comes eye to eye with you, worry swimming in his. Taking a deep breath, you force a smile, hoping it is convincing. 

You know it isn't. 

“If you think this is bad, you should have seen the other guy,” you try to joke, wincing when he lifts your hand from your stomach, gently prodding at the stab wound. He huffs at you, lips tugging into a line, unimpressed. 

“Why didn't you call for me?” his voice is strained, you can hear the anger there. Anger that you know isn't aimed towards you- you know what he'd do to protect you. You shrug. 

“I tried,” you mumble, knowing he can hear you. “They gagged me.” he straightens more, already standing before you can stop him, a growl tearing from his chest. 

“Where are they?” you stop him, lifting your arms to cradle his jaw, ignoring the pain as you stretch. The muscles there work with his restraint, eyes boring down on you. You soften, tugging him closer. 

“Dead,” you promise. He stops, blinking down at you before softening significantly, sighing as he leans down, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. 

“What am i going to do with you?” he wonders out loud, arm wrapping around your middle slowly to tug you closer. Humming contently, you allow yourself to fumble into his chest, resting your forehead next to his heart, tension melting from your shoulders once you're able to feel it thundering under your palm.

“Patch me up?” you suggest after a moment, earning a snort from him and a curt nod. 

“Yeah,” he sighs as he straightens up again, standing at his full height, looking down at you. “Can you walk?”

Nodding you move to push yourself off the tree, yelping softly when you suddenly put your full weight on your ankle, Eskel’s hands shooting out to catch you when you stumble. 

“That's a no, Kit.” he states softly, hands moving from your hips to right under your armpits as he lifts you, your arms being forced straight, taut with the pressure. Your face squishes with your shoulders begin forced up, face scrunching up in distaste as you kick your feet a bit. He dangles you in front of him like a misbehaving cat, amusement painting his features as your feet sway a good foot and a half off of the ground. 

“Say nothing,” you grouch. His silent laughter shakes his frame, and in turn, your entire body.

“Or what?” he muses, laughter subsiding. “You'll scratch me?” 

Narrowing your eyes at him, you grumble, kicking out at him, barely hitting his thigh. 

“No, I feel like you'd like that too much.”

__

Soft brown wood, smooth under your fingertips, carved- and collapsable. Grinning, you thank the shopkeeper, pressing her payment into her hand as you skip out. She just laughs, nodding after you.

Have a pleasant day, she calls after you.

Hugging it to your chest, you march up the steps of the Inn with confidence. That same confidence melts away as you reach the door to your room, peeking in to assure yourself that Eskel is still gone- away on his contract. Heaving a sigh of relief, you slide in, closing the door softly behind you as you plop on the bed to look it over again, nodding in satisfaction. 

Looking around, you smile at the room. It had been more expensive, but it was bigger than you were used to- including a tub for private baths, instead of having to go to the communal baths, again. There is a dresser, topped with a mirror, and in the corner is a small kitchenette, just big enough to make your own meals, if you so choose, two cabinets hanging on the wall behind it. 

Looking out the window, you hum. The sun is starting to go down, vibrant colors painting over the soft blues. 

He should be back soon, and he will be hungry. Of that you are sure. 

Hopping down from the bed, you move to the kitchenette, beaming as you get to use your new stool. Setting it out, you flatten the top, stepping on it slowly to test it before putting your full weight on it. When it holds, you look up, laughing in delight as the cupboards are right in your line of sight, immediately starting to pull things down to cook. 

As you are finishing up rummaging around in the space, Eskel steps in. The door shuts quickly behind him before he looks up at you, his sweet smile stretching further, watching you.

“What is that?” amusement is plain in his voice as he strides to your side, hands settling on your hips to steady you as his sudden presence startled you enough to knock you off balance. Swallowing, you glance up at him through your eye lashes. Even with the stool, he is still taller than you by a head.

“A… stool?” you grumble, hands resting over his. Giving your hips a soft squeeze, he looks down, staring at it, eyebrow arching at you.

“Why?” sighing, you cross your arms, preparing for his teasing.

“To save my knees,” you mumble. His eyebrows shoot up, a shit eating grin stretching across his face as his hands come to rest behind you on the counter, caging you in, a sparkle in his eyes in spite of his exhaustion. “I keep hitting them when I have to climb things.” you clarify, flicking him in the forehead. 

His laugh startles you, pulling a smile from you as well as he playfully rubs at his forehead where you flicked him.

“Sure, Kit,” he hums. “Whatever you say.”

__

Eskel’s hand comes back towards you out of habit, a silent invitation, as hoards of villagers swarm around you, bumping and pushing without even so much as looking up or apologizing. Immediately, you take it, watching the scarred side of his mouth tick up, feeling the size difference in your hands. Silently, he looks behind him, eyes glowing like sunlight, enthralling you- beckoning you like a sunflower to their rays.

“Stay close,” he hums, tugging you closer. Nodding, you rest your cheek on his arm, other hand coming to cradle the back of his arm. He smiles at the sensation, leading you through the crowds, ignoring the sneers and quiet jeers of those who notice who he is. 

You are just about to turn to give that last guy a piece of your mind when Eskel tugs you back to him with his hand firm around yours, giving you a soft smile. 

“How about some fruit?” He offers, voice gentler than usual. A distraction, because while he appreciates that you'd go to bat for him, he would rather you didn't. Too many out there willing to hurt you to get to him. Sighing, you nod slightly. 

“Yeah, sounds nice.” 

Silently, he leads you to the stall at the edge of the village, an elderly woman standing there with crates of different fruits and vegetables that are in season. She eyes Eskel closely, so he stands back as you go looking to find what you'd like. She doesn't say anything to this, only seems to relax some, helping you inspect each piece. Two peaches and a bunch of grapes.

He only steps forward to pay, and to her credit, she sends up the slightest of smiles, nodding to him. He nods gently, handing her the coins before turning back to you, smiling now. 

“Onward!” you cry playfully, making him laugh, nodding. You motion to a group of trees lining the edge of the village, overlooking the lake nearby. You just about melt when he places his hand on the small of your back, smiling up at him. He relaxes the more you head out of town until you're right on the banks of the lake. 

“What would you like?” you hum, holding up the fruit. He looks over them for a moment before grinning, swiping both of the peaches making you gasp at him. 

“These,” he states as a matter of factly, eyes shining like melting gold in the sunlight. 

“But I wanted one of those,” you whine, reaching for them. Giving you your favorite crooked grin, he lifts them well above his head, knowing you can't reach them. 

“Then grab them.” he challenges, tilting his head slightly. Huffing, you look him over slowly, debating on how you want to go about this. The trees aren't close enough for you to use as leverage… there are no rocks, and you'd rather not actually hurt him to get the fruit- besides… he's wearing a cup. 

Sighing, your head swings low for a moment, rolling your shoulders.

“Fine,” you hum, meeting his curious eyes as you step back before taking quick steps back towards him, bouncing on the ball of your foot and jumping. Your hands lift to meet his shoulders, hauling you up higher, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, the motion catching him off guard. Instinctively, his hands move to catch you, one hand wrapping under your legs, the one holding the fruit lowering slightly, forgetting what he was doing for a moment, breath catching in his throat. 

Grinning to yourself, you slide one of your hands to his neck, scratching up the back of his head gently, toying with the hair there watching his mouth fall slack a bit. Taking advantage of his attention now being on you instead of the fruit, you lean up, stretching your neck some to meet his other hand- winding your free hand around his wrist, tugging it down to you slightly, allowing you to take a bite of one of the peaches. Humming happily, you lick at your lips, lapping up what juice that started to run down your chin, looking back down at him.

He is stone, eyes wide- pupils blown. You swear that he isn't breathing, until you lean down, brushing your lips over the scars on his lip. 

“They’re sweet this year,” you purr, teasingly, nose nuzzling into his cheek. “Want to taste?” 

This brings him back to life- earning a breathy groan, “Fuck.”

Immediately, he drops the fruit, his hand wrapping around you roughly, pulling you closer. Looking up at him again, you meet his eyes, dark pupils blown to where you can hardly see the gorgeous darkened bronze. You smile, fingers splaying over his shoulder as his lips meet yours.

__

“Eskel?” you call, trees weaving past you, looking around frantically. Your voice echoes painfully through the open space, fading to a whisper when your voice finds its way back to you, as if beckoning him. Wincing, you stifle your whimper, pausing only to catch your breath, leaning your back against a tree.

“Eskel, please,” you choke out, fighting the trembling in your limbs as you push yourself back up, stumbling back to your feet, moving towards where you heard the screaming earlier. “Just answer me, something. Anything.” you beg, pushing through the undergrowth, ignoring how it cuts through your clothes and pulls at your skin. 

If he was anywhere near, he would hear you.

Soon, you stumble into a clearing, blinking rapidly to adjust to the brightness of the light compared to the dim shadows of the trees. Rubbing at your eyes, you squint. 

“Oh i'm going to be sick,” you rasp, looking at the scene before you warily, stepping further in slowly. Two creatures and a body- a woman. She is laying face down, but you recognize the clothing. She was the witch that was after Eskel, her blackened hair swirling around her, thickened with blood. Looking around frantically, you find Eskel’s sword lying just a few feet from her- both of them- splattered with blood, the brilliant blades searing in the sunlight. 

“...Esk?” you call softly, swallowing. “Love, please… please come out- if you’re hurt i can heal you. Its just me, i swear.”

Nothing. 

Blinking back tears, you slide forward stooping to collect his swords. He will need them when you find him. 

Not more than a few feet away from his swords, half hidden in the grass, is a small body. Tiny enough to be a doll- maybe 6 inches tall. Frowning, you shuffle closer to him, leaning down to poke at it. 

It isn't unusual for witches to use dolls to control people, but it isn't a practice you've seen done recently. And this doesn't look like any doll you've ever seen. The details are too… detailed. They're normally very vague- a piece of the Victim sewn in for the spell to work. It isn't necessary for the doll to look like the target themselves. 

Shuffling forward, you lean over it, gently moving to turn it over, the limbs flopping with the movement, moving more like lead then cloth- and is much too solid. Lifting it slowly, you cradle it in your hands, its head resting snugly in one palm as you look it over, watching with wide eyes as the chest rises and falls. 

There is no doubt who it is- his scars almost non-existent, but his tousled hair and bright red gibson. 

“Esk?” you ask slowly, your voice must be much louder now that you're so close. His tiny body jerks, reaching for his swords out of muscle memory, looking around in a daze, his eyes slowly lifting to meet yours- his brilliant yellow eyes unmistakeable. 

“Kit?” His voice is smaller, closer to that of a child, holding none of the baritone or chill it usually does. The squeak makes your lips twitch, as you look at him with care, nearly melting into the ground in relief. 

“Oh, thank the gods- you're alive.” he winces, rubbing gingerly at his ear with one hand.

“What happened?” you shake your head, shrugging, careful not to jostle him too much in your hands now that he is sitting up. 

“I don't know, you didn't come back last night, and then I heard these awful screams- they sounded like you. I…” you pause, blinking away the tears, shaking off your terror. There is the lightest tap on your palm where he is patting your hand, giving you a slow smile. 

“Okay, Kit… It's okay… Im okay.” he states the last bit with slight uncertainty. He doesn't know what happened. Or why he is this size. You nod, accidentally shaking him in your hand. 

“We uh… do you think Triss or Yennefer would be able to help you?” you ask softly, gently moving to stroke his head, softening. He is cute this way. He huffs at the fact that he finds himself leaning into your mistrations, rubbing his cheek against the pad of your finger. 

“They might,” he hums, the higher pitch making you giggle, pouting when he bites at the pad- the feeling closer to what would normally be a nip. “Hey!” you watch in amusement as his face scrunches up in distaste. 

“Can we just go?” he grumbles, your lips twitching a bit, trying not to laugh at him.

“Sure, love,” you hum. “Would you like to travel on my shoulder or my pocket?” if looks could kill, you'd probably be dead, an eyebrow quirking at you, unamused. 

“Hysterical.” you have to fight your grin, snickering as you place him on your shoulder.

“I thought so.”

__

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[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

Kids and Coffee Dates Ch 11

Masterlist

(set to the tune of the lamby song from Gravity Falls) Who wants a tiny little update? I do! I do! Because I haven't written in like 4 months Sorry! My bad!

“Kids are learning fast. They know the T-birds kick some ass. Be sure that there’s no coming last if your on…”

The music pouring out of the Bluetooth speaker on a shelf in the garage trickled out of the open garage door and down to meet Geralt underneath the body of a 67 impala. The car had been an absolute nerd vanity purchase and Geralt knew it. It had needed a new interior; the thing ran like dirt when he first bought it and Geralt was sure he had almost rebuilt the engine at this point with all the parts he had replaced in it. Yet every time he opened the garage and he saw it, a little bit of giddiness bubbled up in him. He had been working with his therapist about defining his emotions and letting himself feel them. The car it turned out had ended up being his little get away to think. A place neither of the women in his house wanted to really be in for any length of time that he could just feel in. He could get upset, frustrated, excited and curious completely unfiltered and it felt good.

Yennifer still called him a nerd for getting The Impala, which he always felt were bold words coming from someone with a Gossip Girl phase, that he witnessed no less.

It wasn’t Yennifer or Ciri however that disrupted Geralt from his musing while working underneath the car, rather it was the rumbling of an engine and the sound of tires slowing over asphalt in the drive. As he was pulling himself up from under the car Lambert was already out and beelining toward him.

“That girl that Eskel went on a date with, what did she look like?” Lambert was breathing heavy like he had ran over to Geralt’s house instead of driving.

“Why?” Geralt quirked up an eyebrow, the frown on his face contouring as he reached for a rag to wipe his hands.

“Well you know how Dad got on my ass about looking nice for company things? Well I was going over to Eskel’s to get steal some stuff of his because I was thinking about it and you know my thing about doing things when I think about them. “

“Yes I am aware that your ADHD ass works in mysterious ways” Geralt threw back at him.

Lambert gave him a quick dirty look before dropping it to continue.

“Well anyway I went to his house this morning and—”

Lambert’s rant was drown out by the very familiar rumble of a bike engine, which abruptly shut off as both brothers turned. Eskel stood a few feet from the bike, arms crossed over his chest and a glare directed at Lambert. The two brothers seemed to have an entire conversation for a few seconds solely with there eyes and facial expressions before Lambert bolted off like a shot to the side to try and reach his vehicle. Eskel however had strategically place himself between the two and sidestepped to grab his brother. The force of the two colliding knocked them both to ground.

It really was something watching two grown men—both built like lumberjacks—wrestling in a driveway at 7 in the morning.

Geralt only wished he had brought a drink out with him to watch the show.

The wrestling match lasted a few more seconds before Eskel had completely pinned Lambert to the ground with his hands pinned behind his back.  

“What in the hell is going on out here? You men are in your thirties, are you really acting like this?” Yennifer had stepped out on the front porch to observe the scene that was being made in her front yard.

“Hey don’t you lump me in with these old men” Lambert picked his head up from the pavement to retort back at Yennifer. Eskel gave out a huff before standing up and letting Lambert go. Which the younger man readily accepting quacking jumping back up.

Yennifer had made her way down to the driveway, turning to Geralt for answers.

“What’s going on out here?” Geralt gave her a shrug before answering.

“I genuinely don’t know this just kinda happened to me.”

“I saw Eskel’s girlfriend .” Lambert bluntly explained, all preamble lost after losing his impromptu wrestling match.

Eskel let out a groan dragging his hands through his hair and pulling before straightening back up and rolling his shoulders.

“Yeah look listen I’ve been meaning to tell you guys for a while I just could never find the right time, and then I started feeling guilty for waiting so long which made me wait ever more and I fuck” Eskel’s shoulders were slumped slightly as he looked mildly downtrodden off to the side.

“Does she have a name?” Yennifer tried to make the tone of her voice as light as possible to try and steer the conversation away from its sober state to at least some mild love or gaiety.

“Uhh yeah” Eskel awkwardly ruffled a hand behind his head. “Her name’s Y/n, she runs a farm, she’s been helping me with Bleater a lot actually, I’ve been seeing her for about six months. “

Lambert began to tsk and place his hand over his chest in overdramatic fashion.

“Eskel I just tsk I thought we were brothers. Six months you hide this girl from us? Six months I—”

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking knew?” Eskel’s eyes shone with irritation once more as he turned toward Lambert

“That not what i—” Lamber was once again cut off.

“No you wouldn’t be joking like this if this was the first time you were hearing about this. You fucking knew didn’t you?”  

Geralt stood up at this, knowing that Eskel would be even more upset if they lied any further.

“We found out by accident.” As Geralt spoke Eskel turned to him. The direct, vaguely angry eye contact would have probably brought any other man to his knees, but Geralt knew Eskel too well to be scared. He knew Eskel too well to fall for this act of anger that was hiding embarrassment and hurt.

“We found out by accident and we weren’t sure if it was anything serious so we figured you would come to us when you were ready.” While Geralt’s words were far from flowery or soft, he could tell by the lessening tension in Eskel’s shoulders that they were working.

“None of us wanted to pressure you or anything okay?” Relief filled Geralt as Eskel broke eye contact to close his eye and take a deep breath letting it out with an “okay”.

“Are we cool?” This was more for Geralt’s peace of mind than anything. Eskel was and always had been the closest person Geralt had had in his life, having Eskel upset at him for any length of time caused a big black hold to well up in his stomach that threaten to swallow him whole.

Eskel let out another long exhale from his nose before his eyebrows lifted slightly and he gave out a “Yeah were cool” with a few nods.

As the air cleared of tension Eskel could feel a few rapid fire vibrations radiate from his pocket.

Babe: Hey I think I’m gonna make waffles.

Babe: you have some strawberries in the fridge, should I make like a strawberry topping?

Babe: or blueberry?

Babe: blueberry and strawberry?

Babe:……… I love you!

Eskel let out a little snort from his nostrils before putting the phone back in his pocket.

“Well as… pleasant as this morning has been I have waffles waiting for me at home and I” Eskel looked around the driveway a second before flicking off a piece of gravel from his shoulder “am going to take advantage of them”

As the sound of the motorcycle faded into the distance Yennifer leaned into the side of the house.

“That could have gone a lot better”

“could have also gone a lot worse” Geralt responded, leaning over to pick up tools from around the car.

“I never did get my tie-tacks” Lambert piped up. “How mad do you think he’d be if I went back to his house to snag a waffle?”

~

Suhuyini: Hey were going to have a party for Purnima at the Stable for her birthday on October 1st. Just wanted to let you know.

Eskel: Nice, do you want me to bring anything?

Suhuyini: Your little girlfriend.

Eskel: You know what I meant, like what food do you want me to bring?

Suhuyini: Technically people are edible.

Eskel: Were not eating my girlfriend.

Suhuyini: Eskel I am sure you eat your girlfriend 😉

Eskel: Would you cut it out??

Suhuyini: Only if you bring your girlfriend.

Eskel: I will ASK my girlfriend. I’m not going to tie her up and drag her to the stable

Suhuyini: Tie her up you say 😉

Eskel: I’m leaving

Suhuyini: You can’t leave a text, if could also bring like a fruit or veggie tray that would be great.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

For the first time in a long time, Eskel wasn’t the first one back. It wasn’t surprising, apparently Geralt had arrived back a fortnight ago, anxious to be back with Ciri. The child was currently sat at one of the long tables, legs swinging as she drew in the blank journal Vesemir had given her whilst the adults talked amongst themselves. It was to be a welcome home present for her Uncle Eskel and therefore, she was determined to make it the best picture of her entire six years.

“I ran into Lambert a couple of months back.” Eskel said as he finished warming up by the roaring fire in the great hall after his climb up to Kaer Morhen, “He said he’s bringing his Cat with him this year.”

Vesemir nodded, “Meaning he’ll be coming from further South, so we should expect him a little later.”

Ciri looked up at that, “Uncle Lambert has a cat?”

“Hmm? Yes, Aiden.”  Geralt answered, attention still mostly on his brother.

Ciri gave an excited wiggle. Her grandmother had never allowed her to have a pet. The closest she’d come was the cat owned by one of the courtiers; a fat, fluffy thing with a squashed face named Pumpkin (something which had confused Ciri, considering the cat wasn’t orange). She imagined pulling a string for them to chase, sitting petting them whilst Uncle Eskel read to her from one of the storybooks he’d decided wasn’t too grown up for her like he had last winter. Maybe she’d be allowed to have them sleep in her room sometimes. Oh yes, Ciri couldn’t wait!

“Papa, where will Aiden be sleeping?” Ciri had looked all around the Keep and she couldn’t find anything resembling a cat bed. Not even a cushion like the one Pumpkin would spend all day sitting on.

“He usually shares with Lambert.” Geralt said, as he tucked her in, “He’ll have his own room too though. Just incase.”

Ciri blinked. The cat was going to have its own room, “Why?”

“He’s like anybody else. He likes to have his own space sometimes or he gets grumpy. You warm enough?”

She nodded, feeling her eyelids already starting to grow heavy, “Goodnight, Papa.”

“Goodnight, Cub.”

Ciri was perched on one of the kitchen counters, munching on a couple of carrot sticks Eskel had handed to her when a thought struck her, “Uncle Eskel, will Aiden have to catch and eat the rats?”

Eskel laughed loudly and had to pause in his vegetable chopping so he didn’t lose a finger, “You know, I only said that as a joke about your Uncle Lambert’s cooking, right? And no, Cub, there’s more than enough here for Aiden too. Nobody's going to go hungry.”

“Okay.” Ciri nodded and went back to her snack, satisfied with her answer she’d gotten.

 Geralt reported seeing smoke halfway down the mountain. Lambert would be home by tomorrow.

“Will Aiden like me?”

Pumpkin had hissed and scratched at her if she ever tried to pet him or play with him after all. Even though she was nice and never tried to pull his tail or anything like that.

Vesemir ruffled her hair, “He’ll love you, Cub. Just do as you do with everyone else here and take heed if he wants to be left alone, alright? Don’t go chasing him.”

“We were worried you wouldn’t make it.” Geralt said, embracing Lambert in a rough hug, not waiting for the other to shake the snow off his cloak and boots, “Thought we’d have to come down and dig you out. Aiden.” He extended a hand to the stranger, who grasped it tightly.

Ciri stared up at the man stood next to her uncle. The man her papa had called Aiden. He was a little shorter and leaner, but still tall with green eyes and a friendly smile, his curly black hair flecked with snow and tied back from his face.

“You’re not a cat.”

That drew their attention. Aiden cocking his head towards her with an “Eh?” whilst Geralt hissed her name in admonishment.

Ciri crossed her arms, “Papa, you all said Uncle Lambert was bringing a cat back.”

“Geralt, what is she-“

Aiden put a hand on Lambert's forearm, interrupting him,  “I think I see what’s happened.”

He crouched so he was level with the little girl, fighting to keep down his laughter lest she think it was directed at her and not the situation (Eskel had already lost that battle and had retreated to the kitchen), “I’m a Cat in the same way your Uncle Lambert’s a Wolf. That’s my school, see.” He held out his medallion for Ciri to get a good look at.

“There’s other Witcher schools?”

“A year here and she doesn’t know that. What the fuck have you actually been teaching her, old man?”

“Lambert, watch your language!”

Ciri turned big eyes on the group, “So, there’s no cat for me to play with?”

“Oh I wouldn’t say that, Cub. I’m always up for a round of hide and seek, and I bet you’ve found all the best hiding places by now.”

Ciri nodded, it was true. When she wasn’t at lessons with Grandpa Vesemir, she’d had a lot of time to explore.

Aiden gave her an easy grin, “Great.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper, “You can show me the best places to hide from your Uncle. It’s always funny making him jump.”

Ciri giggled.

“Alright, back to your lessons now Ciri. Let Lambert and Aiden get settled.”

 Ciri took Geralt’s hand, letting him lead her to the library. They may have waited until Ciri was out of earshot, but Geralt heard all too clearly the Cats laughter and Jaskier-worthy exclamations about how she was “Too fucking adorable!”. Geralt smiled down at the little blonde head. Yes, she most definitely was.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 16

Jaskier gifts Geralt something at least once a month. A silly horse knick-knack that reminded him of Roach, some rock he found, a flower (that's the most frequent). New gloves, new boots, gear, a sword sharpener, really, at least once a year Geralt has something new that means the world to him. So he keeps them all in his room in Kaer Morhen. Which means that every winter his brothers start trying to squeeze out information about who gives him these presents. Year by year, Lambert and Eskel tackle him and demand to know who gives him PERSONALIZED HAIR-TIES, GERALT! PERSONALIZED HAIR-TIES! AND IS THAT A FUCKING THROW PILLOW WITH FLOWERS ON IT!?

One year, they finally, FINALLY, get out the information that it's the bard he travels with. But surely if he gives him this many gifts and has stayed this many years, he should be spending at least one winter in Kaer Morhen with them, right? Geralt gets all sheepish and snaps at them to leave it alone and to stop bringing up "Jask." Well! A brother's gotta do what a brother's gotta do. Thus commences Lambert and Eskel's race to see who can find Geralt's bard first, and invite him up for the winter so they can wingman their poor emotionally constipated brother