#eskel is a sweetheart

[islenthatur]

Jaskier smiled softly, hands idly twisting and braiding the hair before him with gentle nimble fingers, savoring the texture and feel as well as the soft purr that filled the room.

It was exactly what Jaskier needed after a stressful day.

"Is this alright Dearest?" He murmurs softly, fingers dropping from the braid, to run smoothly over broad shoulders to rest upon a slow beating heart of a Witcher.

"Yes," it was soft, no louder than a breath and Jaskier thanked his classically trained ears to hear it.

He has spent nearly all winter to get to this point, to have a pliant witcher in his tender loving hands. Goddess, he loved to care for them, for him, to ease their stress and burdens... it was an addiction.

"Thank you Dearheart, I appreciate you allowing me this." Jaskier purred and leant forward, capturing his witcher's lips with his own, his other hand cupping the scarred cheek with loving care.

"Jask," The name fell from his Witcher's lips like a prayer that sent a jolt of pleasure through the bard.

"Eskel."

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST]

Eskel tries to be calm about it all, besides his initial reaction, but it's hard. (I think he does cry in private, which is something he very rarely does.) That being said, and all the worries aside, I think he's also the first one to go "...huh" about them. Something might be up, but he isn't sure.

[jaybren]

Jaskier and New Geralt

I am of the belief that Cavill is leaving because of the way the writers have screwed up some very important aspects of both the games and the books.

MOST IMPORTANT being Geralt's relationship with Jaskier.

Both book!Geralt and game!Geralt love that funky, feral bard. Geraskier fan or not -- they are, at minimum, platonic soulmates for life.

Point being, Cavill left because the writers didn't let him show that despite Joey being an AMAZING Jaskier.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Lambert tried to let the yelling and squealing fade into the background as he sat at one of the picnic tables keeping one eye on his niece, the bright pink bunny ears he'd bought her on the way in paired with her blue dress making for an excellent marker as she ran around in circles like something possessed in her hunt for chocolate eggs. Ciri had talked about nothing but the children's Easter egg hunt at the local petting zoo all week and then of course, both Geralt and Jaskier had to fall sick when Yenn was also out of town and Eskel's car was busted, leaving Lambert to step in to save the day. Or giving him a convenient excuse to not work on that paper which was due when college classes started up again. Potato, potahto. So long as Ciri was happy, right?

Speaking of, Lambert frowned when he saw Ciri attempting to climb the fence on the far side of the playing field. They'd been expressly told the perimeters of the hunt before they started so unless she'd gotten distracted or bored, there was no reason for her to be over there. He made to yell her back before realising she'd probably be too far away to hear him and started walking over. He picked up the pace when he saw a dark skinned man who looked to be around his age in the bright yellow t-shirt which marked him out as farm staff come over and lean on the other side of the fence, smiling as he said something to Ciri. Lambert was still too far away to hear but he caught the gist as Ciri diligently placed both feet back on the ground and instead started gesturing to the large tree which the other man was stood underneath.

Lambert reached them both just in time to hear him laugh before he practically launched himself into the branches and disappeared amongst the thick foliage.

"Ciri?" He asked coming to stand next to his niece, "What are you doing over here?"

"He with you, sweetheart?" A voice from above piped up and Lambert looked up to see the mystery employee perched on a branch, staring down at him critically with eyes so green they could almost blend in with the leaves.

"It's Uncle Lambert. My daddy's his big brother and that's why he's my uncle!" She called back happily, giving the explanation which had now become routine ever since they'd explained the basics to her of how family trees work and proceeding to hang off his arm for emphasis.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, "Well, Uncle Lambert. How are you at catching?"

Lambert barely had time to process the question before an egg wrapped in bright blue foil was plummeting downwards, Lambert lunging to catch it on instinct before dropping it into Ciri's basket. It was swiftly followed by many others in various colours, the two adults building up something of a rhythm somewhere around the fifth.

"Think that's all of them!" Was the only warning they got before the other didn't so much climb down the tree as drop down, startling Lambert a little with the suddenness and impressing him with the fact that he'd managed to stick the landing from that height.

"Thank you!" Ciri cried out happily, giving him a gap toothed smile, "Uncle Lambert, I want to play on the slide." She shoved her now near overflowing basket into Lambert's side before darting off towards the playground, leaving Lambert to follow behind.

"She's got a good eye." The other said, vaulting over the fence and falling into step next to him, "Name's Aiden by the way." He said pointing to the name badge plastered with various animal stickers which declared as much, "Figured it was only fair seeing as I found yours out."

"Who the hell decided to hide eggs up a god damn tree anyway?" Lambert asked looking back over his shoulder, "How were the kids supposed to find those?"

"I don't think they were." Aiden replied. Lambert raised an eyebrow, inviting him to elaborate, "That tree has a hollow about halfway up. I think one of the guys who was in charge of setting this up stashed a bunch for himself up there and accidentally left that blue one your niece spotted poking out." Aiden gave him a wide grin, "Honestly, that's the best karma ever for literally trying to take candy from babies."

Lambert gave a matching smile, allowing himself to share in the enjoyment of karmic justice, "You being serious?"

"Unfortunately. If it's who I think, they can be a bit of a dick whenever they get scheduled during the holidays. You should've seen the Christmas display, they put a few of the elves in some rather suggestive poses."

Aiden pulled out his phone and started scrolling before holding it out for Lambert to look at, sure enough there were numerous shots of plastics elves in various positions and poses which would have had Geralt and Jaskier covering Ciri's eyes but had Lambert laughing in delight, "Ok, but those are pretty funny."

"We thought so, too. The parents very much wouldn't have though. Luckily our supervisor noticed before we opened for the day."

Lambert gave another laugh before looking over to where he could see Ciri waiting in line for her turn on the slide.

"Hey uh, nice job too by the way. Not just on the egg retrieval but-" Lambert petered off awkwardly.

"Checking that she actually knew you?"

Lambert nodded.

"Of course. Can't be too careful with kids, right? Especially at something like this, although you'd be surprised how many guardians take offence. Still, I'd rather get yelled at than be the one who let a kid go off with a total stranger, you know?"

"Uncle Lambert, come push me!!" Ciri yelled from the swings.

"And that's my queue." Lambert sighed, adjusting his hold on Ciri's basket. Surprisingly, he'd been enjoying the others company, "Thanks again, Aiden."

"Don't mention it. I'd better get back to work too." He turned to leave before seeming to think better of it and turning back, looking slightly hopeful, "Hey. Our baby pygmy goats should be old enough to meet the public next weekend. If you guys are free you should come and say hi, they're seriously cute."

"You working that weekend?"

Aiden nodded, "I'm scheduled for the Sunday."

"Then we'll see you on Sunday, Aiden."

[inexplicifics]

inex….. INEEXXX 😩😩😩😩 I’m so obsessed with your last story that I’ve read it three times already. How do you get such a perfect balance of both painfully sweet and hot 😩😩 as I said before I am OBSESSED! The relationships 🤌🏼 lambert just falling apart 🤌🏼 voltehre being such a sweetheart 🤌🏼 geralt please 🤌🏼 gweld and voltehre 🤌🏼 ESKEL 🤌🏼 ESKEL ESKEL ESKEL ESKEL 🤌🏼

I would offer up my first born for a lil part 2 that features Geralt and voltehre fucking cause I just know that boy would get his world ROCKED

I'm so glad you liked it!

I really should write Geralt's first heat with the full pack. He's going to blow Lambert and Voltehre's minds.

[bethdutten]

I have been reading 'out of the woods' over and OVER AND OVER again! It's so healing 😭 Could I request how they met and got together? Or some more kaer morhen fluff? Or both? I can't get enough of your writing about eskel! 😍

aww thank you!! definitely 😊 here’s how they got together, maybe i’ll do some from after OOTW later 😉

Eskel still doesn’t understand how he managed to land a girl like you. Especially considering the circumstances you met. It was when he got the scars on his face after a fight with a striga, near Redania. He would have bled out if not for you, a mage out collecting plants in the woods where he was attacked.

You took him in, saved his life. He thought he might have had a chance before the attack, before the disfiguring scars turned him into a monster. But he assumed you wouldn’t give him a chance, just send him on his way when he was healed enough. But that wasn’t the case.

“Sweetheart, eat,” you ordered softly, glancing at Eskel out of the corner of your eye. He was just staring down at his bowl of stew, spoon untouched, while you organized jars containing the medicine for his wounds.

He was almost completely healed, his face marred with deep, angry red scars but the fear of infection gone now. After four months, you’d gotten close to the witcher, quickly falling for him. But you knew he was just here until his injuries were healed, before he could go back on the Path. As much as it pained you to let him go, you expected it would have to end at some point.

Eskel blinked, eyes focusing back in on you as he watched you work. It was hard to eat when he felt so sick to his stomach at the idea of you kicking him out soon.

He knew it was coming. His face was healing, and he couldn’t stay here forever. Why you kept him around as long as you did, he wasn’t sure. But seeing you prepare the salve for his scars, packaged up for him to take when he left, felt like a sharp pain in his chest every time he thought about you kicking him out.

He was used to being taken care of, now. Eating meals together, often curling up beside each other in front of the fire at night, you calling him ‘sweetheart’ and ‘baby’, tenderly soothing his scars with your salves like they weren’t something to be afraid of—

How was he going to live without this?

“Eskel?” you brought him out of his thoughts again, a look of concern on your face.

He forced a smile on his face, ignoring the way it pulled at his lip in a way he knew made it look like a grimace. An ugly, horrifying monster, that’s what he was now. “Sorry, not very hungry.”

You sighed, abandoning your work and taking a seat beside him. You placed a hand on his forehead, sliding your palm down to cut the left side of his face as you observed him carefully. “You feel a bit warm… are you sure you’re ready to leave tomorrow?”

He nodded, the last thing he wanted to do. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay… maybe you should go rest, love.” You wished you could protest, insist that he stay, but— he wanted to leave. You couldn’t make him stay.

“Yeah,” Eskel agreed, ignoring the way his heart fluttered at the endearment. He rested his hand on top of yours, pulling it off his face and squeezing it gently before he stood.

You swallowed at you watched him head towards the bedroom, wishing you just had the courage to tell him how you felt.

Meanwhile, Eskel laid in your bed and wrapped himself in your blanket, breathing in your scent deeply and willing back the ache in his chest. Who would want him looking like this? He knew the chances of someone like you loving someone like him would be slim beforehand, but now— you deserved better.

After an hour or so, you finished packing up a bag for him to take in the morning. You wished you could go with him, watch out for him while he was on the Path. A witcher could use a mage, but he didn’t ask you to go with him.

You put a few more logs in the fire, gathering up an extra blanket to take to Eskel before you would go to sleep. But upon walking into the spare room, where Eskel slept since you brought him in, you were surprised to find it empty. You immediately panicked, thinking he might have left early. Wouldn’t he at least say goodbye?

A low snore caught your attention, the noise coming from your own bedroom. You quietly opened the door, letting out a relieved chuckle at the image of Eskel buried under your blankets in your bed, hair mussed as he slept soundly. You knelt down, brushing an errand strand of hair away from his face, memorizing every detail as this would be the last time you had the chance.

He was beautiful. You didn’t think too much about what he must have looked like before the attack— it didn’t matter to you. The face he had now was the one you felt most familiar with, the one that already felt like home. You wouldn’t change a single thing. But more than that; he was gentle, and kind, and as much as you wish you could have saved him from the pain, you are thankful to that striga for bringing you to him. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eskel’s eyes fluttered open, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of your face so close to his. Your eyes widened, an apology on your lips before he smiled, that warm crooked grin you were so in love with.

“Hi,” he whispered, something in the way you were looking at him making his heart beat faster. Like you didn’t see a monster, like you were looking at someone you… loved.

You smiled back, deciding then and there you weren’t ready for him to leave. And if he left, you would go with him. “Hi. Eskel, could I… would you want me to join you on the Path?”

The grin slowly left his face, Eskel swallowing audibly. “I would love that.”

“Yeah?” You felt a spark of courage, licking your lips before you continued, “Because I… really care about you. I don’t want anything to happen to you again. I-I love you.”

You held your breath, waiting for his reaction. Eskel just stared for a few moments, not sure what he just heard. The scars on his face burned, reminding him of all the reasons someone like you would never want him, yet— here you were. Offering to be with him, take care of him.

Then he saw your face fall, a wash of sadness and rejection evident. He quickly reached out and grabbed your hand, not about to miss his chance.

“Yes! Yes, please. I want you to be with me. I-I want… to be with you. I love you, too.”

Your face lit up at his confession, leaning in and kissing him without a second thought. Eskel let out a sound of surprise, the feel of your lips of his warming his chest. He never thought anyone would want to kiss him now that he looked like this. He hoped no one else ever would, except you.

[finleycannotdraw]

I’ve finally gotten my hands on the witcher books and I’m three chapters into blood of elves and these are my thoughts so far

Geralt is a fucking sweetheart and the show doesn’t understand him

Dandelion and Jaskier are The Same. I want to marry him and also subject him to the ice bucket challenge. He is my silly little bisexual fun time girlboy boyfriend you’re too late sonic he’s forklift certified and he’s never going to die <3

the joey batey cake video is basically how I’m imagining how dandelion behaves as a person. “You’ve just caught me reading. Literature. *drops book on the floor* “we really don’t know how to-” *cabinet door comes off in his hand “FUCKING COCK” *pulling random things out of a cabinet* “lasagna sheets! we’re fucking in business” *bowl falls on the floor* “AW, COCK” “Jamie Oliver you’ve lied to me” “when in doubt—” *starts chugging wine* *mashing cake batter with a cucumber* “WHY WONT YOU DIE” *various cuts to him lying on the floor in stages of despair* “I don’t even like cake”

Timeline? Don’t know her. the show has certainly never met her

I would die and kill for Triss Merigold the show got her wrong too

Eskel <3333

Vesemir I love you

Ciri calls him “uncle vesemir” my found family heart is crying

Yennefer and Dandelion are friends

The show did them all dirty

Himbo witchers do not understand ibuprofen😔 but they drink their respect women juice so I will forgive them

Kaer Morons is a very very fitting term

Lambert <3333

There is more emotional maturity in the first 99 pages of the first book than in the entire netflix series

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Alright, Yous asked for this - PART TWO

So, the list of all my drafts doesn't fit in one part...

Riding the Beasts SCP 682 smut CW: Monsterfucking

Sihtric AU-arama Just all osrts of Sihtric AUs, in a long, big list.

Some good ass edging Edging Modern!Sihtric, straight up smut

I'll Be Your Prize [Finan x Sihtric] Uhtred tells Finan he can ask for the thing he wants most, so Finan asks for Sihtric.

The Things We Do With Power - I The Boys fic, mild fix it, predominantly wicked smut.

A very old promise Once Upon the beginning of my blog, I promised to write a certain poly smut thing, so here goes nothing.

All About A Gag Sihtric x Finan x Osfert. Sihtric fakes a gag and Finan is not having it.

Domestic - Lan Mandragoran Lan x Reader, being cute.

One Big Bed Poly Wheel of Time smut. Rand is a slut in this one.

The Pantsident Mark tore his pants. Mark x Reader smut

A Long Drive [Marnas] Mark rips his pants and Arnas makes full use of the situation.

Orgasm Desperation - Stephen Colley Stephen x Reader, with reader making Stephen beg for it.

BoB Sexarama Shameless, plotless smut headcanons.

A3 - Throuple Aethelflead x Aldhelm x Aethelred headcanons

BoB Poly Family BS You get involved with Finan, Sihtric and Osferth and raise children with them. Modern verse, headcanon list

Band of Bebbanburgh - XII - Getting Ink Done Uhtred, Osferth, Finan and Sihtric are getting tatted and Sihtric likes it a bit too well.

First Kiss - Draco Malfoy Set during book six.

First Kiss - Eric Northman Simple as.

Basically every thought I have ever had about Sihtric, but in a pile Full ass headcanon dump on my very fav himbo.

Good Good Good, Good Vibrations Mr F uses a vibe on reader, in public, sorta.

Orgasm Desperation - Game!Lambert Needy Needy Lambertini.

Lambert in the Middle Lambert getting some DP from Eskel and Geralt.

Another Lovely Puppy Pile Reader x Many witchers (and Jaskier)

Band of Bebbanburgh - XI - Tetanus Uhtred 'challenges' Sihtric to catch a pigeon. Hoemboy gets pecked and scratched, but has no tetnaus immunisation, so Finan and Osferth have to wrangle him to go to the dco's. Sihtirc does not like doctors and has to be pacified with sexy times from his boyfriends.

Giving Birth to Sihtric's Child It is not reader's first and it will most certainly not be the last.

TLK Underworld AU Headcanon List about a mafia au of sorts

Finan Eating You Out He's good with his mouth, let's be real

How He Met Me - VI August POV version of The Prophet [fic]

At the Desk - Napoleon Solo Napoleon Solo fucking reader on her desk, Arranged Marriage verse.

Sex in the Changing Room - Modern!Sihtric Raunchy dirty naughty Sihtric fucking reader in the changing rooms of the local clothing store.

On the table - Sihtric Canon verse, he humps you on the table

Sex in the Bath - Captain Syverson Bath sex with Sy

Ever Curiouser - I Hellboy Longfic, polyship.

Some Bebbanboys smut, bc I am nasty Smutty stuff with Sihtric x Finan x Osferth

Ben Daimio x Werewolf Reader A beastly smut

The Bebbanboys Band AU headcanons

Ben Daimio - Sneaking Around Smutty, you and Ben avoid getting caught while fucking on the job

Sweetheart Prompt #3 Ivar Lothbrok, suprise surprise

Band of Bebbanburgh - X - What Sihtric Does Best Smut fest about Sihtric sucking dick

Ulysses Klaue Smut Does exactly what it says on the tin.

No Way We Are Making Homework - Modern Ubbe Modern Ubbe x Reader. You should be making homework, but you are not.

Nasty Nasty Dirty Gross Ubbe CW: Incest Ubbe uses one specific way of making Hvitserk listen.

Ubbe x Alfred - Modern AU Ubbe and Alfred shower together.

This Home I Built - TLK Poly Fest Selfish fix it fic, lotsa smut, mainly about Sihtric.

Santiago Garcia Breeding Kink V1 Santi knocking you up.

Alpha Geralt Going Feral Nasty smut with no excuses

Sihtric - Breeding Kink V1 Sihtric knocking you up

Omega Sihtric Going Feral Needy Omega Sihtric

Alpha Geralt Scenting You Scenting sesh getting out of hand.

Santiago Garcia - Rough Sex Ah yes, more shameless porn with no plot.

Scenting Omega Sihtric Scenting Omega Sihtric gets out of hand.

My Fair Lady Shameless Aldflaed smut

Expectations - Loki Shameless Loki smut

Choking Sam Winchester Reader applying some pressure to a big moose, sexually.

At Saltwick What happened between Sihtric, Finan and Osferth while the kids were asleep.

Sex in Public - Sihtric Canon verse.

Neteyam x Au'Nung Neteyam almost died and Au'Nung is distressed.

Proof That I am an Aweful Person [TLK Poly stuff] More ReaderxPretty Boys headcanons

Fjall Stoneheart - Doggystyle Shameless smut

Band of Bebbanburgh - IX - Seeking Refuge Osferth goes to Finan when his homelife starts turning for the worst.

Breeding V1 - Jake Sully Jake Sully knocking you up.

Band of Bebbanburgh - VIII - Show You How Sihtric teases Osferth how to please Finan

Band of Bebbanburgh - VII - Small Comforts Finan having himself a slice of Sihtric.

Band of Bebbanburgh - VI - Sihtric's Dream Sihtric wakes up from a bad dream and Finan and Osferth put him at ease.

By God(s) and Men - Finan x Sihtric Canon verse; Sihtric and Finan figure out their dynamic.

The Baker's Boy - Finan x Sihtric Modern AU; Finan just realised he's been in love with Sihtric all along.

The Witan - Mark/Arnas/Reader CW: RPF and RPS Established Arnas x Reader and Past Marnas. Arnas convinced reader to come along to a TLK cast vaca and things spin swiftly out on his control.

All Three of Them Reader x Sihtric x Finan x Osferth smut

Threesome with Sihtric and Osferth Shameless smut with a lil twist

Threesome with Sihtric and Finan Dirty smutty smut smut smut

[thethumpergod]

Brainstorm for the Coen \ Eskel fic

COEN

- Coen is a firefighter, who also manages a Renaissance fair.

- Has survivor's guilt from the accident that killed his family

- Never swears and is very polite/ also best friends with Lambert and Aiden (make it make sense!)

- Loves history

- Used to be an extremely talented hiker

- Spends Yule alone

- Has slept with Aiden, Axel, and Cedric before (Eskel will soon be on that list)

- Is unaware of the fact his hot

- Great with kids and animals

- Smokes hella weed

- Has not been on a date in 7 years despite being asked out multiple times

ESKEL

- Great with animals and kids

- Ex-man whore

- Loves history and mythology

- Spies on his brothers

- Became friends with Letho and Gaetan

- Amazing hiker

- Is secretly a sweetheart

- Great at cooking and whittling

- Has body image issues after getting his scars

- Is the most social brother but still isolates himself

- Likes nature

- Smokes hella weed

(Feel free to comment ideas!)

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 17.5

Chapter 17

And the dark themes continue....reader discretion is once again advised.

You woke up in a small bed, vision  temporarily blurred as you open your eyes.

Once it cleared, you look around to see it was the same room you once lived in with Aemma.

You were back in Kaer Morhen.

But how, you wonder, how was this even possible?

There was something off. You look around to see the room was mostly empty; even the crib that Aemma had slept in was missing. Was it just you? Were you alone?

You get up from the bed and walk out of the room, hoping that things would make a little more sense.

In the main hall, you see the other witchers going about their day, eating breakfast, drinking ale, and partaking in their brotherly bonding and camaraderie.

You see Lambert, Eskel, and Coen at their usual table, laughing and drinking.

"Hey, look who decided to join us," Coen speaks up the moment he sees you. Him and the other two gesture for you to sit at the table. You do so, but was till confused by this, even as you were handed a mug of ale.

"What's gotten you down?" Lambert nudges you. "I uh, I can't find Aemma," you admit, looking around, "her crib isn't in my room, and she's nowhere to be found." "Of course she isn't," Lambert says like it's obvious, "last I checked she hasn't needed a crib in years now."

"She's probably off flying on that dragon of hers," Eskel provides for an explanation, "it's like she can't get enough of that."

"I never understood the appeal of owning a dragon," Lambert snorts as he downs the rest of his ale, "how is it even possible to fucking tame em? There's a reason witchers rarely, if ever, have taken contracts on such fucking beasts."

"We can just be grateful this one is friendly," Coen says.

You frown at this conversation. Aemma riding her dragon? Not needing her crib? How long you were asleep? How much time has passed?

You quickly stand up, intending to go outside, when you run into Vesemir, "Oh, sorry, Vesemir," you hastily apologize, "I, uh-" "No need to be sorry," Vesemir assures, "I was actually looking for you...well, actually Geralt was looking for you. He said it was important."

"Geralt's here?"

"(y/n)?" you hear that deep, rugged voice that belonged to the man you were asking for. When you turn to see him, you feel the tears well up in your eyes. You rush in and pull him into a hug. "What's gotten into you sweetheart?" you hear him ask, clearly taken aback by this sudden gesture of affection. You pull back, not sure what to say, "I uh...I'm sorry," you say, wiping your eyes a little, "it's just...I missed you is all." "You just saw me last night," Geralt chuckles a bit, placing a kiss on your head. "Uh, yes, that's...that's right," you say, "I still missed you. Also...I'm pretty sure I had the strangest dream. Well actually, it felt more like a nightmare."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," you nod, "Aemma and I...were trapped on this island...and her father was there, he...." your eyes widen a bit. "(y/n), what's wrong?" Geralt asks frantically. "Geralt...why didn't you come for me?" you ask. "What?" "Why didn't you come back for me? I was trapped in Westeros, on Dragonstone with Daemon, he...he forced me to marry him, I..."

Geralt took two fingers and lifted your chin up to face him, "I did come for you, love," he says. You look to see his face suddenly burned beyond recognition. You pull away in shock. Kaer Morhen was suddenly engulfed in flames. The bodies of the other witchers charred until only ashes remained.

You hear the high pitched screeches of Caraxes as he swoops down and destroys the keep in dragon fire. You could Daemon astride the blood wrym, anger in his eyes as he looked down on you.

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

You bolt from your bed, sitting upright, panting as cold sweat was beading down your body.

You look around and see you were in your own chambers...on Dragonstone.

It had all be a dream, a horrible nightmare, you realize. Although, this current reality was a nightmare in of itself now that you think about it.

You hear a knock at the door, making you flinch in response.

You sigh in relief when it was just the servants coming in with breakfast.

Part of you had been expecting Daemon, but the man wasn't exactly one to knock and ask permission before entering your room to take what he wants.

Over the last week and a half, the Rogue Prince spent every other night, if not every night bedding you, almost like clockwork.

He would come in with a jug of wine, which to your surprise was the Beauclair Cabernet you had brought to Westeros the first time around; Daemon, it turned out, had managed to have that crate saved and not tossed out after you left.

You were actually grateful for that, as the wine helped to make this living nightmare of yours a little more bearable, especially when the prince would decide whatever conversation the two of you had was over and then proceed to bend you over the bed and take you from behind.

Impregnating you once may had been an accident, but now it seemed Daemon was determined more then ever to see that your belly will swell with his child once again. He would never stop until his seed was spent, and then he would use his fingers to shove whatever was dribbling out back inside you.

Sometimes afterwards, he'd work himself up again to seed you a second or even a third time around before the night was out.

Fortunately, Daemon seemed none the wiser to your plan to keep that from happening. Every morning, when you were served tea with your breakfast, you would request a slice of lemon, which you would save for later that evening should Daemon decide to visit you. 

During those moments, you were grateful that you didn't have to face Daemon when he'd fuck you, as it made it a little easier to think about Geralt. Or at least try to. Geralt's brand of loving, while sometimes on the rougher side, was more considerate about what you wanted in terms of pleasure. You remember he'd always checked in during the love making, wanting to make sure you were comfortable and that he wasn't hurting you. Your pleasure had been as important as his own. 

 In contrast, Daemon was quick and rough, and while you had actually orgasmed a few times, the prince seemed more focused on his pleasure, and more focused on planting another baby in your belly.

He never seemed concerned about how you were feeling in the moment. And you were never really comfortable enough to refuse him. There was a wildness in Daemon's eyes during these times, almost like he was daring you to challenge him like you used to.

The first few nights, when he'd finish and exit your chambers, you would be left on the bed, crying your eyes out, regardless of how good it may have actually felt. You were trapped and alone in this place, with no one else to turn to.

All you had was Aemma. Seeing her during the day and spending time with her made things a little more bearable.

That and downing the rest of the wine that was left during the evening.

You were beginning to wonder if that passage to the Continent Mysaria had promised would ever actually happen. Granted it hadn't even been two weeks, but right now it was starting to feel like you've been imprisoned at Dragonstone forever.

Before this mess, you were a respected troubador both in your homeland and in Westeros.

Now, in the eyes of small council, you were reduced to Daemon's whore; and in Daemon's eyes you had become an object that he had succeeded in possessing, a walking womb to squeeze out his heirs.

While you sat the table, waiting for breakfast to be served, the maid that brought you the food handed you a note, "for your eyes only, my lady," she whispers before she leaves.

You unroll the paper to read the note.

It was from the contacts Mysaria had mentioned. There was a ship back in King's Landing that was heading to Skellige within the week. It would take you, Aemma, and Ciri there.

Skellige, you think. It wasn't quite the Continent, but it was close enough. And Ciri had mentioned once or twice that she had family in Skellige, so maybe the two of you would be given a warm welcome once you reached your destination.

If it was within this week, you were going to have to escape Dragonstone tonight.

But how were going to do so without alerting Daemon?

When you unraveled the note some more, a tiny vial fell out. You pick up to see it was filled with liquid.

The last bit of the note simply said,

Best enjoy a good night's rest.

It must be essence of nightshade, or something of that nature. The dose was not lethal, but just enough to put someone into a heavy sleep.

You look to see the jug of wine that was still leftover from last night.

Daemon was likely going to visit you tonight once again, and very likely he was going to want to have a little conversation over some wine before 'persuading' you to carry out your wifely duties.

You take the vial and hide it in your sleeve. You would play along with Daemon's game tonight as you've always had. Only this time, you would win this round.

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

As predicted, Daemon came and visited you in your chambers, bringing some wine and placing it on the table.

He filled both cups for you and for him. You carried on as you always have, not wanting to make the prince suspicious. You were going to need to find a way to sneak the contents of the vial into his cup somehow when he wasn't looking.

You were going to need to distract him, or maybe....

"Husband," you decide to speak as you sip your wine, knowing Daemon like it when you called him that. "Something on your mind, wife?" he asks you. "I find myself craving something sweet at the moment. I'm thinking fruit, or maybe cake if we have any."

Daemon regards you for a moment, as you haven't made that request before, but after considering it, he stands up, "perhaps my marital duties are finally paying off," he says with a smirk, believing this sudden craving for fruits and sweets was a sign that you were child already.

He walks to the door to call for a servant. You quickly take the vial out and pour the contents into his wine cup. You take the jug and fill his cup and then your own. Daemon saw you pour the wine. "I thought you might want some more," you say, "If I recall, you couldn't get enough of this wine after you tried it the first time."

Daemon smiled a bit, knowing you were right, taking the cup from your hands. He swirls the liquid around, and you wait in anticipation for him to sip the wine.

Part of you wondered if the prince was suspecting something, so you drink from your cup. Daemon relaxed some and took a considerable gulp from his cup, "I regret that what I was able to save is slowly running low," he admits, "I'll have to import some from Toussaint after my journey to the Stepstones."

"The...Stepstones?" you frown a bit, "I will be leaving for that place tomorrow," Daemon nods, "My own brother won't see to it that the troubles with the Crabfeeder and the Triarchy will be subdued, so Lord Corlys and myself have decided to do something about it."

You regard this for a bit; the fact that Daemon would be leaving soon made you realize why the man was so intent on impregnating you beforehand; perhaps Daemon anticipated that he may not return and hoped you would further his line by giving him a son.

Well, if he wanted that, he should've thought to do this with his first and lawful wife.

Too late now.

"I'm sure you will bring the Stepstones under Westerosi control, my prince," you say, sipping your wine, "with a dragon by your side, I imagine such a campaign would only last more than a few days. You'll be back home before you know it."

"You think so?" Daemon asks, sipping his wine as well. You nod, starting to wonder when that sedative was going to kick in.

Obviously not soon enough as you see Daemon set his cup down, that familiar look on his face telling you that he was planning to end this conversation and take you to bed, "enough talk of such grim thoughts," he says, "I'd like to seed my wife tonight before I depart on the morrow." 

"...of course, husband," you say, standing up and heading for the bed.

You bend down, expecting him to life your skirts and take you like he always did.

To your surprise, however, he coaxes you to turn around so you would face him. Your eyes widen as he lifts your skirts and dives in, head between your thighs. This was something he hadn't done to you in a very long time. You wonder if this was his way of bidding farewell before he leaves.

You grab his hair, intending to push him away, but the moment you felt his tongue, you find yourself pulling him closer instead.

No matter how much you would enjoy this, it would never change the fact that you were still here against your will.

This wouldn't change the fact that you were doing whatever you could to survive this captivity.

You sigh and pant as he continued to work his mouth on you until you shatter above him in temporary bliss.

You lay back on the bed, letting that feeling wash over you, enjoying it and almost regretting slipping that potion into Daemon's cup...almost.

Daemon got up and wiped his mouth before he lifted your skirts over your middle. He grabs the flesh of your thighs, intending to pull you close.

You pull away, backing up against the bed.

Daemon smirked, sensing you were playing hard to get again.

He crawled on the bed towards you, almost predator like. He pulls you close, grabbing your thighs again and having you wrapped your legs around him.

At this point, Daemon's vision started to blur, and he began to sway.

"Everything alright, my love?" you ask, hoping this was the essence of nightshade finally kicking in.

"It must be...too much...wine," Daemon says right before he collapsed on you, forcing the air in your lungs to escape.

You sigh in relief. Now was your chance to finally escape.

After making sure he was actually out, you push Daemon to the side and get out of bed. You changed your clothes and grabbed a cloak. You hear a knock at the door, and answer it to see it was the same servant who handed you that note and vial earlier this morning. She saw Daemon sleeping on your bed, "the prince was rather exhausted tonight," you say with a shrug, knowing it was possible the walls might have ears.

"Yes, I can see that," the servant answers you.

"I must see to my daughter," you tell her, and she nods in response.

The servant escorts you to Aemma's room where the babe was sound asleep. You pick her up carefully and hold her to your chest.

Cirillia, who was sleeping in the crib, had woken up the moment she saw you pick up her future rider. The little dragon chirped and growled.

"Cirillia, shush," you whisper, "it's me."

Cirillia tilted her head a bit and then jumped onto your shoulder. You sigh a bit; having to travel with a dragon, even one this small, would make you stand out. But Cirillia being this small meant you might be able to hide her under your cloak when you got back to King's Landing.

Once outside the castle, and off Dragonstone, you find a party of two individuals dressed in plain clothing. They rode horses, one horse already saddled for you to mount.

"Where's Ciri?" you ask.

"Still in King's Landing," one of the men assures, "she'll be waiting on the docks at Blackwater Bay when we get there."

You nod, pulling your cloak close and doing your best to conceal Aemma's silver blonde hair.

The traveling party you were in took a different route to avoid soldiers on the main road should any of them spot you.

It took a couple days longer then usual, but it was for the best. Not only were on the run from your husband, you were also taking a member of the royal family away from her father...at least that's the way it will be seen should you be caught.

It would definitely be considered kidnapping and the highest of treason.

When you got closer, you recognized the landmarks. You were getting closer to King's Landing. It felt like you were finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Suddenly you feel Cirillia start to chirp and fritter. "Shh," you try and shush her. There was something off about the way the little dragon was going on about. It's almost like she was trying to alert you to something.

It all happened so fast.

Soldiers ambushed the party, killing the two men who were escorting you. You scream and hold Aemma close, trying to protect her. You guide the horse to run away from the scene.

You take the horse away from the road and into the woods.

You feel the wind rush over you again and hear the high pitch screeches that belonged to a certain blood wrym.

You keep the horse going until the dragon landed in front of you, causing the horse to rear up and knock you down. Aemma started to cry as you landed on the ground and you keep her clutched so as to make sure she wouldn't be harmed.

Caraxes grabbed the horse into his jaws and burned the animal alive before swallowing it.

You sigh in defeat; the plans you had set in motion were not going to happen. You keep your head down, keeping your eyes at Aemma, not having the courage to face the silver blonde man who dismounted Caraxes and approached you with anger in his eyes.

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

You were confined to your chambers once you were taken back to Dragonstone, doing your best to keep the tears from falling, but your eyes betray your mind and the damn slowly burst.

You couldn't help but wonder what the hell did this go so wrong. You had it all planned out, you made sure no one else outside your circle would find out. How could Daemon have found out? Did someone tip him off? The Soldiers? Were you not discrete enough?

Your thoughts were pulled from your mind when the door burst open. You quickly turn away, unable to face Daemon as he walked in.

You say nothing. He said nothing...at least for a few moments, though it felt like forever.

You hear the sound of his boots as he approached you. You felt the warmth of his body as he came closer to you, and you flinch when you feel his breath on your shoulder.

"Essence of nightshade?" you hear him ask, holding the empty vial in his hands, "you think I wouldn't have found out, Little Lark? You couldn't hide from me before? Whatever made you believe you could the second time around?"

You said nothing, and you do your best to calm your racing heart and keep your breaths even as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in.

"Why, love?" he asks you in a low tone, "Why leave again? Was I that cruel to you? Did I not give you enough? Have I not...been a dutiful husband to you? Or a good father to our daughter? Why take Aemma away? Do you think I'll somehow harm her?"

 "No," you shake your head, feeling more tears slip out, "I wasn't thinking, prince. I...I'm sorry." Daemon said nothing for a bit, and you could swear he was actually smiling, but there was no mirth or joy in it.

"...are you, Little Lark?" he ask in a dark tone, "because I don't think you really are."

Daemon suddenly pushed you against the wall, and you start to struggle. "I AM! I AM!" you shout as you feel him lift your skirts and you hear him pull at his breeches, tears spilling out even more as your fear of this man rises even more than you thought possible, "Daemon! I am! I'm sorry! I won't do it again, I swear! I won't! Please, Daemon! I promise, I won't run away! I won't deceive you. I won't take Aemma away from your again. Just PLEASE, Daemon, don't do this!" 

You pant and sob, waiting for Daemon to cross that line. It felt like forever, and you wonder why he was taking so damn long.

Then you feel the prince lower your skirts and pull away. "Stop bawling, Little Lark," you hear him say in a calm tone, "Do you really believe I would engage in such a vile act? Upon my own loving wife of all people?"

You shake your head in response, as you had no voice to say anything else.

Daemon leaned in close to you, nuzzling your neck, "I had to delay my journey to the Stepstones just to come for you and Aemma, you know," you hear him whisper, "I expect you to keep your word. I expect you to still remain on this continent when I return. Do you understand, my love?"

You try and take a deep breath, slowly nodding in response.

Daemon smiled and kissed the side of your head before he walked out of your chambers.

You falter to your knees, fresh tears slipping from your eyes like a burst damn.

You feel yourself crawling towards the bed and grabbing the pillow.

You lay down, kicking and screaming into the pillow.

You continued this until you finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

Chapter 18

Masterlist

[clown-of-rivia]

Witcher Modern AU concept

Childhood sweethearts Eskel and Geralt broke up when they left the marines. Geralt wanted to leave behind all the horrors they've seen, even if that meant leaving Eskel behind.

Geralt was set on living a 'normal' life. He worked as a mechanics and 1 year later met Yen and got married. Eskel didnt attend the wedding. Lambert barely looked at him.

Years later Ciri is gushing to her now single dad about how she is going to one day marry her art teacher.

After months of Ciri's dramatics Geralt agrees to meet the teacher only to stand in front of Eskel. Eskel who politely pretended they didnt know each other.

That night

Ciri: I love mister Eskel. I'm gonna marry him one day

Geralt: I used to say the same when I was your age

Geralt cant stop thinking of Eskel, of what couldve been if he hadn't been so stupid and left the love of his life. He keeps picking Ciri up early to see Eskel, who politely avoids him.

One day Geralt goes to Eskel's class but its empty. So he looks around while waiting.

In the back is a small storage room turned studio. It's clear Eskel uses it for his own art. Geralt shouldn't, but he takes a closer look. In a large sketchbook he finds dozens of sketches of himself. As a kid, a man, a soldier, a dad, a groom. Sleeping, playing, laughing, crying. Him at his best, his happiest, his most broken.

[cosmos-coma]

Hello My Old Heart- Part 1

A/N: So... I had a hard heartbreak this past summer. and this was after closing myself off for quite a while from things like this, so this fic is a labor of love to myself. As the title alludes to, this is overall based on the song ‘Hello my old heart’ by the Oh Hellos (which I strongly recommend).

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Warnings: blood (nothing outside of canon level), fem!reader,

Word count: 1.3k

Summary: You’re a retired sorceress who has finally settled down outside of the blue mountains where you made your living as a local healer. Your heart has become tired over the many years of your life. The endless emotional blows have forced you to build large walls around your heart. But that day... that day someone came and cracked your walls

____________________________________________

You are a Sorceress, well- you used to be at least; you mainly operated as a local healer now. 

You had moved to the northern reaches of the realm when you retired your services and settled into a little cottage situated between several small towns and the Blue mountains not far in the distance. Though not continuously ravaged by war like many areas in the lower continent, these people were still in need of both medicine and coin.

That morning came to you quietly; your chickens clucked amongst themselves as you let them out and the sheep followed suit. The grass and clovers bowed softly at your footfalls as you traveled about your property, performing your morning chores.

The ever-growing sun slowly warmed your skin as you moved then to the edge of your garden bed gathering herbs, flowers, and roots for your upcoming orders that day. Out of nowhere, you felt a forceful tug on the hem of your dress and you couldn't help but laugh. “Sweetheart…” you coo’d with a smile, turning to the young lamb nibbling and tugging at your clothes. “You’re a handful, Ivy….” Shaking your head you pulled her up onto your lap so she wouldn't cause any more trouble as you worked. 

Once your morning chores were mostly taken care of Ivy followed you inside to sit on your comfiest chair while you prepared breakfast. Most of the morning was normal; your regulars came by, along with a few fresh faces, but it was almost noon when your day- and life- took a turn. For the better or the worst, you had yet to decide.

The heat of the day loomed overhead and a long lull drew out your workday when a broad and bloodied man came stumbling in your door. 

“Are you- are you a healer?” He grunted out, doubled over in pain as his hand clutched his stomach and blood dripped down past his fingers. 

Your shock stilled you for half a second before you rushed to his side. “Yes, Yes, Here. Lay down here...” Quickly, and with a hand on his shoulder, you guided him to the guest bed and laid him down quickly. 

“Ran out of potions…. What an Idiot” he muttered to himself as he laid back, a hint of pain flashing over his face as he tried to settle down. He grunted in mild protest as you moved him about to untie his armor. His golden yellow eyes watched your face with both clear need and clear caution as you began to get to work. 

“Happens to the best of us, Witcher…” You offered him a small smile as you placed the damaged armor aside and lifted his shirt to look over your work area. “Fuck…” you whispered and turned around to grab a few things. It looked as if something tried to gut him, not even counting the rest of the claw-like scratches covering his arms and legs. 

The short laugh that came in response from him surprised you- not for its deep warm rumble, but for the lightness it made you feel in such a tense situation. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, glancing down at you with a small smile that tugged at his scarred lips. 

“Well, I won’t lie… But let’s just say you're lucky to be a Witcher. Can’t imagine anyone else surviving something like this…” you trailed off in a concentrated mumble as you began to dive into your work. 

You could feel the Witcher’s eyes watching you with a certain curiosity and softness as you worked on him. Magic streamed down your arms to your fingertips as you pressed your hand to his bloodied skin, healing the most urgent injuries and trying to offer a little pain relief. You weren't really sure how much pain Witcher’s felt, but you figured it could only help. 

Eskel wasn’t sure if it was your magic, or simply your touch that sent a jolt through his body. It was a warm sensation that swam down each limb and digit, somehow both electrifying and relaxing his every nerve. 

You toiled away with an expression of such concentration and commitment that he couldn't help but watch. Your long fingers worked with expertise as you stitched up the open wounds and your brows drawn together in full focus. 

“Like what you’re looking at, Witcher?” You asked and finally turned to catch his eyes.

Your eyes held glowing compassion and softness that  Eskel had not seen in a long time. But he could only catch a mere glimpse before he was closed off by the cold stone walls you put before it.  Despite the walls, he still felt that jolt again and he knew this time that it was no magic; it was just you. 

“Well, I won't lie…” He started, laughing a bit at his own jest. “They call me Eskel.” He rumbled out and followed with a warm smile, something your own expression couldn't help but reflect. 

You snorted out a bit of a  laugh and nodded, putting down the final bandage before wiping your hands on your already dirtied dress. “They call me Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Alright, Eskel- it looks like you're all patched up now, but you’ll need to sleep off some of that blood loss, okay?” You stood to grab a blanket for your guest, but it seems he had other plans. 

“I’ll be fine. I should get back out there anyways…” He began to sit up, ignoring your advice and going to grab his things. 

“Hey-” you said shortly, holding a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “you're going to pop your stitches going back out there so fast. Lay down, okay?” 

“Y/n, It’ll be okay. I’m a Witcher-” He started, but didn't have the chance to finish his full thought before you placed your hand on his chest.

“I said rest, Eskel…” your hand grew warm with magic as you firmly but gently pushed him back, suggesting his body into sleep- not unlike using Axii. His body grew limp with little resistance and soon was fast asleep against the pillow.

“I hate doing that…” You sighed. You abhorred forcing patients to sleep, but knew sometimes it was for the best- and Witchers were almost always too rowdy to stay still of their own accord. 

With a soft sigh to blow the hair out of your eyes, you cleaned up your area and got the large man a blanket. Coming over once again, you took a moment to pause and really look over your patient.

His face was… well he was actually rather handsome. His cheek was pulled tight by scars that ran from his eye to his mouth, pulling his lips up in what some might think looked like a sneer, but to you, it looked almost like a permanent little smile. Your hand reached out unconsciously to run your thumb across the long scar on his chin, sending its own wave of warmth through your body now that you weren't clouded by the urgency of the situation.

You ripped your hand back as the wave of feeling reached your heart. From the outside, it might have looked as if you were being burned, but you knew it as a whole other type of pain. 

You had closed off your old heart long ago, built tall stone walls around it so that no one could see inside. You were tired- tired of being hurt every time you gave your heart away, every time you tried to let someone inside. 

‘It’s not your fault, it's me.’

‘ it just wasn't meant to be.’

‘I just can't give you what you deserve.’

You despised that last one and just thinking about it made your teeth grind. But you just… you couldn’t do it again- hell, you didn’t want to do it again. It always ended the same anyways. Eventually, Eskel would leave and he would forget about you and the small towns out here and life would move on like normal. 

Yes, Eskel’s touch had cracked the foundations surrounding your heart, but those walls can be fixed with time. 

All things can.

_______________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight

(wanna be added to the taglist? taken off? no worries! just DM me and let me know!)

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST]

Let's all wave and say "bye uncle eskel"! Milek is a sweetheart, he would have given Eskel roachie and then Jaskier many many sleepless nights because he would have cried because she isn't there.

[0dde11eth]

Lambert: Wait...you're saying you're never going to eat ANY animal again?What about Bacon?

Ciri: No

Lambert: Ham?

Ciri: No

Lambert: Porkchop?

Ciri: Uncle lambert! Those all come from the same animal!

Lambert: *holding back laughter* right ciri. Some 'wonderful magical animal' makes all of those foods.

Eskel: *interjecting* that's fine sweetheart we support you if this is what you want

Lambert: *still giggling*

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Hi! If I can ask for another I would love to get 29. pet names from the Soft™ fic prompt meme with Lambert/Aiden, thank you <3 I love your writing 💕

Aaaaw!! Thank you so much!!! And thank you for the prompt!

29 - Pet names. Lambert's pretty sure coming up with a pet name for your ex best friend/ current boyfriend shouldn't be this difficult.

Nobody told Lambert thinking up a suitable pet name was this God's damned difficult. Granted, he wasn’t sure that Aiden was into that sappy shit but Lambert had never had a romantic partner before and he wanted to have at least something to fall back on so he wouldn’t panic and call Aiden something either inappropriate or insulting (looking back, the slap that whore had dealt him that time had been completely justified). He wasn’t overthinking this, he was just trying to be prepared. Shut up.

His family were easy. Either call them what they were, or something that pissed them off. Geralt was “Pretty Boy’ when Lambert wanted to annoy him, same as he was “Lambchop” when Geralt or Eskel wanted to get a rise out of him. Ciri was “Girl” or “Kid”, sometimes “Brat” (affectionate) depending on what mischief she decided to pull that day.

Aiden had been easy too, when they were still just friends and the same rules applied or they'd just call each other increasingly random shit just to see who could make the other laugh first. Now, Lambert wanted something different. Something special just between the two of them – that’s what couples did, right?

He couldn’t exactly just call Aiden “Cat” as that’s what everyone on The Path and everyone else in the Keep used for him (and most of the time that had been intended as an insult until the other Wolves actually got to know him). He’d contemplated just sticking to the classics, but Jaskier had low-key ruined that for him by casually calling everyone some variation of “Love” or “Darling” or “Sweetheart” (or some sickening combination of all three if he was drunk and your name was Geralt), Aiden included.  He sighed as he looked over the sheet of paper in front of him absolutely covered with rejected possibilities (which he must remember to burn later). Alright, so maybe he was overthinking this.

Lambert didn’t bother trying to hide his grin as he continued cleaning the blade of his sword with a soft rag, half of his attention on Aiden. The Cat’s mending lay abandoned as he perched on the edge of his chair, eagerly following the small blob of light reflecting off the blade and onto the wall, his fingers and legs twitching as if he were resisting the urge to pounce, Lambert was pretty sure his pupils were also dilated. He couldn’t resist.

He sniggered to himself as he purposefully jiggled the blade, making the light bounce around erratically.

“Kitten.” Lambert huffed to himself affectionately as he watched Aiden’s whole body weave from side to side trying to track it.

“Hmm? Yeah, Puppy?”

Shit. Of course Lambert would forget now that he wasn’t the only one in the room with enhanced hearing. But then his brain caught up to Aiden’s reply.

“Puppy?”

“Well, it’s only fair if you’re calling me Kitten.” Aiden said with a fond smile. He vacated his own seat and took Lambert’s sword, resting it against the wall before plopping down into the others lap and purring when the Wolf wrapped an arm around his waist, “I won’t if it bothers you though.”

Lambert mulled it over. Everything was screaming at him that he should find it patronising. He just knew that if any of his brothers tried it, they’d be finding themselves nursing at least one bruise. when Aiden said it though...

He shrugged, “I don’t hate it.”

 Aiden’s smile turned slightly predatory, “Want to see how long it takes me to make you whimper like one?”

Lambert didn’t get a chance to answer before Aiden’s mouth was on his, the Cats purrs increasing in volume as Lambert kissed back with a groan.

His Kitten was going to kill him, but what a way to go.

[inexplicifics]

oh, those domestic prompts are so sweet! if you like, 12 for awau geralt/eskel/jaskier, or 27 for lambert/milena? love your work!!

Lambert takes a deep breath. He can do this. He’s quite literally faced down an angry bear, he can manage dinner with his girlfriend’s family.

Even if they are a bunch of stuck-up assholes who wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.

One dinner. Milena promised. One dinner and then never again. She just needs to make it clear to them that she’s made her choice and they can’t change her mind.

Normally, Lambert couldn’t give two shits what he looks like, really. He wears shitkicker boots and his battered old leather jacket that he stole from Eskel and clothes that can stand up to dirt and motor oil and nastier things. He cleans up when he takes Milena out, yeah, he’ll wear a nicer shirt and some jeans without holes in them, but he doesn’t usually bother with any vanity besides making sure the lines of his beard could be used as straight-edges, and that’s mostly because he kind of likes looking enough like a devil to make people do double-takes and make signs against evil when he glares at them.

But tonight’s important to Milena, so it’s important to him, and so he has put on the nicest shirt he has - one Milena got him, naturally - and an actual pair of slacks, and borrowed a pair of nice loafers from Jaskier, who said he could keep them on account of them not being flashy enough for the singer’s taste, and now he’s jittering in the front hallway, feeling far more nervous than a dinner ought to warrant.

Even a dinner with a bunch of stuck-up rich assholes who think he’s the sort of shit they’d scrape off their shoes. How a sweetheart like Milena came out of her cesspit of a family, Lambert does not fucking know.

Milena comes down the stairs, and Lambert loses his breath, the same way he does every time he sees her. She’s wearing a blue dress that he bought her, with a skirt that swishes around her ankles, and a sapphire necklace and earrings to match, and she’s put her hair up in an elaborate crown braid studded with silver-and-sapphire hairpins. Her cheeks are painted with a delicate blush, and there’s eyeliner making her dark eyes look even larger and a bright red stain to her lips. Her fingernails are painted as blue as her dress, with silver tips. Her shoes are delicate, spindly things, with heels tall enough that Lambert’s always worried she’ll fall right off of them.

She looks much too good for him.

But she smiles when she sees him, and comes right over to go up on her toes and kiss him softly, bracing herself with one delicate hand on his chest. “You look very fancy, my love,” she says, settling back on her heels and looking him up and down.

“It’s alright?” Lambert asks nervously.

“It’s perfect,” Milena assures him, even as she reaches up to adjust his collar a little and pluck a bit of fluff from his sleeve. “Do a little turn for me?”

Lambert turns in a slow circle, letting her smooth his shirt down in the back and pick another bit of fluff from his trousers.

“There,” she says warmly as he finishes his twirl. “You look entirely ready to face down my horrid parents.” She gives him a rueful look. “I must admit I vastly prefer your usual aesthetic, but my father would be dreadful about it, and I’d prefer you not to punch him before the first course.”

Lambert grins down at her. “That mean I’m allowed to punch him after the first course, darlin’?”

Milena’s lips twist in a little moue of half-amused dismay. “Don’t tempt me, my love.”

“I think tempting you is in fact my duty as your boyfriend,” Lambert teases, and catches one of her hands, lifting it to his lips and kissing the knuckles softly. “Could tempt you to stay right here and let me mess up your pretty dress if you like.”

“Dreadful,” Milena laughs, and bats at him with her free hand, whacking his shoulder gently enough that he can barely feel it. “If we get through this dinner without any punching, my love, then you may make an absolute ruin of my pretty dress if that’s what you want. I will appreciate the distraction!”

Lambert snickers. “I’ll take you up on that,” he agrees.

“Do I look well?” Milena asks, taking her hand back and doing her own slow spin.

“Absolutely perfect,” Lambert says, with a sort of raw honesty only Milena ever draws from him. Milena blushes, the pink of it visible even beneath her makeup.

“Thank you,” she says, and tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let us go and discombobulate my family.”

“They’re not gonna know what hit ‘em,” Lambert says, and ushers her out the door.