#eskel x reader fic

[queenxxxsupreme]

Hello! Could I please request a Netflix!Eskel imagine where he's protective/defensive? Him and the reader are in a relationship and maybe while stopped at an inn, another man gets a little too friendly with the reader if that makes sense. Thank you so much for your time, you are very appreciated :)

A/N: Two birds with one stone! I hope you guys enjoy this. I miss tree man :(

Warnings: nothing outside of canon, this is Netflix!Eskel so he isn’t our sweet baby, use of the c word derogatorily 

“Are you sure you don’t need a hand, doll?” 

“I can handle everything just fine.” You looked over to him as you fastened the holster belt around your waist.

“Then why are you taking your daggers?” Eskel raised his brows, eyeing the two blades as you picked them up from the end table by the bed. 

“I like to be prepared. Aren’t you the one always chastising me for not being ready for anything?” It was your turn to raise a brow. 

He grinned just a little. He leaned back on one elbow, relaxing a bit on the bed. 

“Still, I didn’t like the crowd that was out there earlier.”

“You never like the crowds unless they are full of topless women.” You rolled your eyes. He smirked. “I’ll be back with our drinks in a few minutes.”

“If you aren’t back within a reasonable amount of time, I will come for you.”

“Is that a threat, Master Witcher?” You stopped in the doorway to look back at him. 

“It’s a promise, Madam Huntress.” The sly smirk on his lips made your heart race. 

You closed the door behind yourself and began to make your way down to the tavern. 

The crowd was just as rowdy as it had been when the both of you arrived a few hours earlier. Ladies were dancing on tables. Men were drunkenly singing and laughing, cheering the ladies on. 

You made your way to the bar to order drinks. You leaned against the countertop and waited patiently for the barkeep to move down to you. It would take him a few minutes with how busy he was. 

Out of the corner of your eye, someone came up on your left. 

“Good evening, love.”

You pretended to not hear him and instead kept your eyes on the barkeep. 

“How much?” The man next to you rested his elbows on the bartop, bumping you with his elbow. You were almost positive he did it on purpose. 

“I’m not a working lady.” You sent him a brief glare out of the corner of your eye. 

“Well, that’s a damn shame. I’d sure fancy a night.”

Knowing this man wouldn’t take a hint if it hit him in the face– and it was about to –you turned to face him.

“If you fancy your life, you’d turn and leave.”

He laughed as if you had told a joke. He reached out to brush his hand over your hair, but you smacked his hand away. 

“Do not put your hands on me, whoreson.” You hissed. 

“Perhaps you should learn to take a compliment, bitch.” The man stepped towards you as a means of intimidation. His breath was fowl as he spoke down on you. 

“She told you to fuck off, dumb prick.” 

You looked behind the man to see Eskel approaching. His shoulders were squared and his eyes were tense. He was ready to fight. 

“Who the hell are you?” The man pushed himself away from the bartop, unafraid of Eskel. 

You moved to stop Eskel, putting your hand on his chest.

“Eskel–,”

“Y/N, go upstairs–,”

“Come with me.” You pushed against his chest, urging him to ignore the man. You would have started a fight with the jerk if Eskel wasn’t around, but being that Eskel was there, you didn’t want to start anything. It never ended well, and you didn’t want to be run out of town.

“Better control your whore, brother. Else someone might make her pretty face look like yours.” The man gestured to Eskel’s face. “Maybe that’ll teach her some manners.”

“Teach her some manners?” Eskel repeated, taking a few steps forward. 

You were useless in holding him back now. He was using his strength against you as he moved closer to the idiot who cluelessly egged on the witcher. 

“Why don’t you fucking pick on someone your own size, you gods damned cunt?”

A crowd had started to gather around you three by now in anticipation of a good fight. 

Your heart was beating faster and faster in your chest as you pulled at Eskel’s shirt, trying desperately to get him to stop. If he threw any punches tonight, he would definitely kill the man and the entire village would be after him. 

“Enough! Eskel!” You raised your voice, fingers curling into his bicep. 

He turned his head to look at you, nostrils flaring with anger.

“We are leaving.” You told him. 

He held your gaze for a few moments just to make sure you were serious. You were, in fact, dead serious. 

Without another glance to the man, Eskel turned and stormed away, pushing through the crowd. You followed behind him, making sure to keep your hand on the small of his back so that he knew you were with him. 

***

You closed the door to the room behind yourself and leaned against it for a moment. 

Eskel brushed his hands over his face, then back through his hair. He turned back to you, moving to stand boot to boot with you.

“Are you…. He didn’t put his hands on you, did he?” He asked quietly. 

“No.” You shook your head. He nodded once, then turned to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Silence filled the room. You gazed at your witcher for a while.

“Eskel, I-I couldn’t let you fight him because–,”

“I know.” He lifted his head to meet your gaze. The anger had dissipated and a more solemn look took its place. “Just…. I just feared something happened before I could get down there. Then when I got down there, he was calling you names and I…. just wanted to kick his ass.”

“I know. Me too.” You pushed yourself away from the door and moved to stand between his knees. “But we needed a place to rest tonight. An actual bed, not just a camp somewhere in the woods.”

“You don’t deserve that sort of treatment.” Eskel placed his hands on the backs of your thighs, pressing his head into your stomach. 

“No, but I deserve how you treat me.” You brushed your hand over the back of his neck and head. “You treat me like a queen, and I enjoy every second of it.”

“I don’t understand men like him.”

“Well, Master Witcher. Men like you are few and far between. Men like him, unfortunately, are much more frequent.”

He lifted his head and looked up at you, giving you a chance to kiss him. 

“To hell with men like him.” 

Taglist: @samuraigrl89 @burningcoffeetimetravel @open--till--midnight @beautifulsweetschaos @gm_abbo @thefirelordm @here4thespice @many-fandoms-lover @one-eyed-captain-kinky @sparrowsparadise @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @buckysxgal @lady-of-glass-and-bone @super-calithehamm @invelda @eddyofthetruth @hc-geralt-23 @persephonehemingway @adhdhufflepuff @Purple-Tsuki @emperorpalpattitay @hargrovehoe @redpool @ale @invelda @eddyofthetruth @hc-geralt-23 @adhdhufflepuff @juliya3dangel @sakali03  @bitquirkydoe

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

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

witchers x maleficent!/fae!reader

summary: how witcher characters would react to someone having maleficent type horns/wings and magic

notes: got this out just in time for the new season phew

warnings: gn!reader, lambert the middle schooler, jaskier's composing

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @lu-in-the-library @sunndust (msg me to be added!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

He’s mostly just praying that fate isn’t throwing another curveball at him

Sureeee he’ll spend time with you!! (his fingers are crossed and he’s praying let them be normal let them be normal

Will end up totally accepting you, but he doesn’t love the attention that comes from being a witcher in the company of a fae

He secretly adores your wings

Jaskier

Immediately in song-writing mood

Will make up things about your life to fabricate contents for his ballads

Won’t treat you very different from his other ~weird~ friends

Loves loves loves the attention that comes with it (read: basks in it like the sun)

Yennefer

Yen is fascinated

The academic in her wants to tell her colleagues

And the girl who was all alone and abandoned in her absolutely adores you

You’d do good to make sure that she’s on your side, or she might sell you out

Definitely wants a piece of your magic either way

Ciri

Poor ciri

Eugh she just wants some friends

That don’t die…

She loves your horns and wings

Definitely adores you for also being *different* and having your own magic thing going on

Eskel

He adores your wings

If there is a wing care routing, please let this man do it

Otherwise, he might invent a conditioner-potion for your wings

Don’t scare him in the beginning though, or you may get stabbed

Lambert

Has the reaction of a seventh-grader

Might literally go woahhhhhh

Big hater, but not against you

Will protect you, but will also ask you if you can carry stuff with your horns constantly

Yeah becoming a christmas tree-esque creature may be a con

Coen

Coen honestly just enjoys a helping hand

Your magic will in fact be contributing to his work

Tbf he also makes sure you don’t get killed by angry farmers

The whole thing starts off as a symbiotic relationship but will turn into a friendship (if not more hehe)

Vesemir

Bro does not trust you

Thots and prayers girldude

Oh you have horns and wings? LIKE A MONSTER??

Unless one of his witchers (read:children) introduces you to him, he may attempt murder

[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’.”

_________

Witcher Taglist: @writingmysanity @novigrad--dreaming @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut @beardedladyqueen

Did I forget to add you? Do you wanna be added to my Witcher Taglist? DM/Ask me to let me know!!

[cas-kingdom]

I think I’ll also add Geralt and “Poke me again and see what happens.”

Find the OC version of this fic here.

“Poke me again and see what happens,” Geralt spoke monotonously as he glanced over his shoulder. It was only after you felt his eyes on you that you realised he was talking to you. Which was shocking only because you hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. Before you could ask, he returned to his meal.

Your confused stare lingered on him a little longer, your tired mind attempting to catch up to his words, but you gave up after a moment or so. You’d been trying to sleep, curled up behind Geralt with a blanket and a pillow in the hall of Kaer Morhen. Though the witchers had all returned for the winter and were busy drinking and exchanging stories, you welcomed the clamour more than you found it difficult to rest with. It was a reminder, after all, that your family had remained in one piece for another year.

“Stop it, Y/N.”

Now that you were sure Geralt was addressing you, you turned on your side and propped yourself up with an elbow. “I’m not doing anything,” you insisted truthfully. “I’m just trying to sleep.”

Geralt glanced over his shoulder again and hummed, most likely in disagreement. You rolled your eyes and turned your back on him once more. You were growing more restless by the minute, increasing each time Geralt told you to stop doing something you weren’t doing.

Staring ahead, your eyes caught Lambert’s, the redhead grinning from ear to ear in a very conspicuous way. He was supposedly having a conversation with Eskel and Coen, but Eskel and Coen seemed to be the only ones actually conversing. Knowing he was far too chipper to not be up to something, you narrowed your eyes at him, watching as he picked up a small stone from the ground, tossed it once in the air, took aim, and sent it sailing towards Geralt. It hit his shoulder and he tensed.

This time, you shot up in your makeshift bed, sending a look of utter hatred, eyes wide, brows furrowed, mouth open, to Lambert, who merely crossed his arms behind his head and settled back against his chair.

“You dick!” you hissed, just as Geralt turned to face you. You shook your head at him. “It was Lambert, Geralt.”

“Poke him again, Y/N! I wanna see what happens!” Lambert called. If looks could kill, the witcher need not worry about dying by a monster’s hand. You got to your feet, snatching up your pillow as you went, and stormed towards Lambert.

Lambert chuckled, clapping Eskel on the back. “Watch this,” he said. He remained still as you made quick work of rushing over to him, pillow raised high above your head. As soon as you neared him enough to attempt a solid hit, Lambert jolted upright, grabbed you, and pulled you onto his lap, tickling your sides so suddenly your arms jerked...

And hit Eskel instead.

Witcher Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

[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.

[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

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please send me a message or ask or something.

[hidden-misthios]

Something in the Orange (part 1)

Pairing: Lambert x female!sorceress!reader

Word count: 3 230

Summary: When Geralt of Rivia disappears, Jaskier has no choice but to ask his best friend for help. Although struggling with her own issues, Y/N agrees and they join Vesemir and the others in Kaer Morhen. The search might be difficult but not as difficult as the certain redheaded witcher who keeps challenging her. 

A/n: Just like my last Lambert fic, this one is going to be a mix of games, books and show. Excuse any grammar errors you find.

Find me.

Those were the only words Y/N heard in her dreams for last eight nights. She didn’t even see a person who kept repeating them and it was tiring.

A dark fortress surrounded by a veil of rain and brief flashes of thunder. Not a place she ever visited but Y/N had a feeling she knew the place like a palm of her own hand. As soon as she approached old wooden doors and opened them, the melody of the organ started playing in the distance, filling her ears. No matter how much she wandered around the castle, she could never find the person playing them nor the instrument itself. At some point, she would give up, but each time, the music would become louder and faster. Then, she would suddenly remember why she came here in the first place. She was looking for someone! But as soon as she tried to remember who it was, the world around her started to spin, making Y/N feel like she’s going to fall. She would close her eyes, trying to focus but nothing helped.

And then she would wake up.

In her bed at her own house, in middle of Novigrad.

She didn’t have time or energy to interpret her own dreams. As an oneiromancer, Y/N’s job was to read the future and past using the dreams of others. Her own had to wait for now.

                                                            ***

Corrine Tilly, Y/N’s mentor, was furious again. Y/N was late for fourth time this week and those dreams were the reason why. Y/N didn’t share them with Corrine yet but she owned her mentor explanation. That is, if Corrine doesn’t fire her.

“You know, if you don’t want to work for me anymore, you’re free to go. This is getting ridiculous.” Corrine said, crossing arms on her chests. Y/N closed the doors behind her and approached the brown-haired woman. Corrine was young sorceress who built quite a reputation for interpreting other people's dreams. Her customers were usually wealthy residents of Novigrad but every now and then someone from outside of city walls would show up and ask for her help.

Corrine lived off this money for seven years now and she could afford an apprentice. Y/N was quite lucky to learn from Corrine. She learned how to control the dreams better. Which, for some people proved harder, especially if they weren’t truthful at first.

“I’m sorry Corrine, I really am.” Y/N started. “But it’s not my fault.”

“No?” Corrine raised her eyebrows and starts slowly pacing around the customer room. This was the biggest room of the house and it was fully decorated to look and feel like a bedroom. There was a spacious bed full of pillows, big carpet, lots of candles and clary sage incense for customers to fall asleep easier.

“I-I…” Y/N tried to sort out her thoughts “I have dreams.” she said, fully aware that everyone else would find these words absurd but she knew her mentor. Corrine knew very well what those words meant.

“What kind?” woman asked in serious tone, sitting down on her chair and crossing her legs. That was her spot whenever she would interview the customer and Y/N couldn’t help but feel like one at the moment.

“Recurring.”

“For how long?”

“Eight nights.” Y/N answers.

“And you’re telling me this now?” Corrine asks. Y/N could swear she heard disappointment in her mentor’s voice.

“I didn’t want to bother you. I knew our schedule was full this week-”

“Y/N, you’re not just someone I’d squeeze into schedule. If you have any kind of problem, not just dream related…you can always count on me.” Corrine’s face softened.

Y/N was about to say something when the doorbell rang and they both turned to the doors. No one was supposed to arrive until noon. It was too early.

“I’m sorry, but we are not taking in any new customers right now-” Corrine stood up.

“Good thing I’m not new, then.” Jaskier’s head popped up through the door.

“Viscount. Come in.” Corrine smiles at the bard. Although Jaskier said he doesn’t care about his viscount title, Corrine was still addressing him as one.

Jaskier approaches her with a wide smile, theatrically leans down and kisses Corrine’s hand. Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes but still smiled a bit. She had to admit, her best friend knew his way around women.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear Corrine.” Jaskier speaks and then finally turns to Y/N.

“What brings you here?” Y/N asks. Usually, they would meet at Rosemary and Thyme, the cabaret that Jaskier himself owned. Before Y/N found Corrine, she worked there to help him out and in return Jaskier gave her a roof over her head.

“We need to talk.” Jaskier says completely serious this time. Corrine took that as her hint.

“I’m going out. If you need me, I’ll be at Triss’ place.” she says, throwing the dark blue cloak around her shoulders. They said their goodbyes and as soon as sorceress left, Jaskier moved closer to Y/N.

“Look at this.” he hands Y/N folded piece of paper. Y/N opens it. It was a letter, obviously written in distress or hurry.

Bard,

In light of recent events, I have no choice but to ask for your help. I cannot discuss the details in this letter but I assure you, if you still care about the White Wolf, you’re going to want to join us as soon as possible.

He’s missing.

P.S. Oh, and bring a sorceress along. I am aware you know quite a few.

V

Y/N looks back to Jaskier. This sounded odd. Jaskier took the letter back, looking at it like it might tell him more if he asked nicely.

“Who sent this?” Y/N asks. She figured that the White Wolf was Jaskier’s friend Geralt of Rivia, the witcher she had only seen once. But the V on the bottom of the page wasn’t giving any clues.

“It’s probably Vesemir, Geralt’s mentor.” Jaskier said, folding the letter.

“Why does the witcher need your help? What are you going to do? Sing them your latest hits until they figure out where Geralt is?” Y/N asks, raising her eyebrows. Jaskier give her an annoyed look.

“Very funny. Also no, because I happen to be very good at tracking-”

“Jaskier, you got lost on your way from Oxenfurt to Novigrad.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to complain, but Y/N wasn’t having it. “It’s a 15-minute-long horse ride.”

“It was early morning; I was still half asleep.”

“Forget I said anything.” Y/N realizes she should drop it. She turned around and started preparing incense for their first customer that day.

“Are you coming with me?” Jaskier asked.

Y/N turns around to face him again. “To Kaer Morhen? Jaskier, you can’t be serious.”

“Why not? You are a sorceress and Vesemir said I should bring one.” Jaskier shrugged. Y/N gave him a look.

“He didn’t mention me specifically. I’m sure Felicia Cori would love to help you out.” Y/N said. Felicia was practically Geralt’s fan from the moment she heard about him in Aretuza, academy for young ladies who were practising magic. She lived couples of streets further and was a good friend of Corrine.

“But I’m not asking her, I’m asking you, Y/N.” Jaskier said, slowly losing his patience.

“How on earth is my skill of any use to you or them? We don’t even know what happen to your friend!” Y/N says, crossing arms on her chests.

“You could form a dream for Vesemir and see where Geralt is.” Jaskier suggested.

“You know that those don’t always work for missing persons.”

“I know but can you just once believe my judgment?” he asks. Y/N raised her eyebrows. She believed his judgment lots of times and it usually meant nothing but trouble. This sounded like one as well.

“Absolutely not. Jaskier, I’m not horse riding for a week for no reason. I have no clues, no ideas how to handle this. And also, how am I supposed to leave Corrine? She’s already pissed at me for being late-”

“Let me handle everything. And we are not horse riding.” Jaskier says proudly.

“No?” Y/N asks, tilting her head a little.

“I’ll show you.”

                                                           ***

And there they were, the next day, at Rosemary and Thyme’s attic. There was only one candle burning and the air was filled with dust, smell of old books and costumes. Y/N had to jump over a couple of old suitcases before they finally stopped walking.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, dusting herself off.

Jaskier didn’t answer but started looking through the old bags on the floor. Y/N crossed arms on her chests, waiting for the bard’s explanation.

“Ah, here it is!” he finally said. Y/N looked at his hands. He was holding a crystal. Not just any crystal. That was a power crystal and it was used specifically for portals.

Y/N gaped. “Jaskier, how did you get that?” she asked cautiously. Jaskier started moved further into the dark attic, Y/N following him.

“Turns out doing favours for sorceresses has its perks.” he answered merrily.

“Do you even know how it works?” Y/N raised eyebrows.

“Of course! I’ve been to Kaer Morhen on multiple occasions thanks to this portal right there.”

“Fine. Turn it on, then.” Y/N says, her voice suddenly soft. Ironically, she didn’t like portals. Traveling through them was quick but Y/N preferred other methods. Unfortunately for her, this was the only magical way to get into Kaer Morhen.

Jaskier cleaned the crystal with his sleeve and then moved closer to the wooden wall. There, Y/N saw a shelf with nothing but small steel stand in the middle of it. Jaskier slowly approached and placed the crystal on the stand. Nothing happened.

“What’s wrong with it?” he asks, suddenly worried.

“We need to revive it. It’s dead.” Y/N realized.

“How? I’m no medic nor-”

“Move.” Y/N tells him and Jaskier obeys. Y/N takes the crystal in her hands and clears her mind. Using a simple, yet powerful spell, Y/N starts off the crystal. Its core started glowing and she places it back on the stand. Loud sound of wind filled their ears. The wall in front of them vanished and dark twirling circle appeared instead.

The portal was open.

“Let’s go.”

 The welcoming party is not really welcoming, Y/N thought as soon as she saw the unfamiliar faces. Jaskier didn’t seem like he was bothered by it. They walked across the long hall and approached the table occupied by two armed men who didn’t exactly smile at their presence.

“Eskel, Coen. Nice to see you again.” he slightly lowered his head.

“Who’s this, bard?” the taller one, Eskel, Y/N presumed, asks as he crossed his arms on chests. He looked like he wasn’t happy to see newcomers. Or oldcomers. Or anyone at this point.

“Ah, yes, right, manners. This is Y/N. Very powerful sorceress. Vesemir told me to bring one. So, I did.” Jaskier explained.

“Pleasure.” Y/N said, trying to sound more delighted than she truly was.

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Eskel said.

“What is that supposed-”

“Enough.” a deep voice echoed through the hall. “Jaskier. Sorceress. Please join me.”

Y/N and Jaskier both turned around towards the exit. There, was an older man standing, his face scarred and old but still Y/N felt like his presence required utter respect.

That must be Vesemir, Y/N realized.

Jaskier and Y/N both joined him. Jaskier briefly introduced them and Y/N nodded at the old witcher. Vesemir then led them down the hall without word. They walked for a while in silence, passing by several closed doors, until they finally reached the right one.

Vesemir opened the door and let them into the big round room with high celling. There, in the middle of it, stood one large table. The walls were filled with books, bottles and various herbs. Old chandelier in the middle of room was the only source of light.

They approached the table and Vesemir unfolded three papers in front of them.

“This is all we got.” he said, suddenly sounding tired.

Jaskier took the first paper and stood next to Y/N. There, in the middle of the page, were three words written in black ink.

“That could be Elder speech. Really old one.” Y/N said. She learned basics at the academy, but these writings were definitely old. She wasn’t even sure if she saw them in their school books.

“Do you know what does it say?” Jaskier asks quietly.

“I’m not sure. Let me see.” Y/N says, taking the letter from Jaskier’s hands.

“It’s not in any of our books. I tried everything but couldn’t make a sense of it. The last letter that arrived is the only one that’s written in Common.” Vesemir said, handling the smallest piece of paper to Y/N. She frowned.

This one was indeed written in Common speech but this time ink was dark red. Y/N sincerely hoped it wasn't blood.

“Wolf got taken. “She read the first sentence and then noticed another one on bottom of the page. “Will pay for his sins.”

Their Common is not perfect. Who could this be? Elves?

Y/N noticed how Jaskier’s jaw clenched. She never saw him this quiet and serious.

Vesemir then hands her the last paper. This one had a drawing. It was a simple one, but Y/N immediately figured what it was - an open palm of hand, with drops of blood on each finger. In the middle of the palm was a much bigger drop of blood, shaped like a tear.

“When did you get these?” Y/N asks, looking at all those letters in her hands.

Vesemir opened his mouth to answer but the loud squealing of door hinges interrupted him. The door opened and stranger walked in. With wolf medallion hanging around his neck and long red curls framing his face, he walked towards them.

“Stop wasting time, Vesemir.” he looked at his mentor, completely ignoring Jaskier and Y/N.

Y/N raised her eyebrows slightly.

Would it kill them to show some politeness?

“Lambert, this is Y/N. She’s going to help us decode these letters. And you’re going-”

“We should be out there looking for him! Not wasting time with these stupid letters.” he raises his voice. Vesemir gave him look of complete disapproval.

“You don’t get to decide what is a waste of time or isn’t. Now, show Y/N the library and get her whatever will be needed.”

For a second, Y/N thought Lambert would just storm out but then he finally looked at Y/N.

“Follow me, witch.” he muttered quietly, the anger still present in his tone.

Y/N squinted her eyes. “Sorceress.” she corrected him. Lambert just stared at her, his eyes also squinting. Jaskier, still standing on Y/N’s right side, stepped forward and cleaned his throat.

“Term ‘witch’ is mostly used by those who call themselves witch hunters, you know, it’s usually a derogatory term-”

“I know. Now, follow me.” Lambert interrupted him, still not looking away from Y/N. Y/N didn’t want to give him the pleasure of seeing her in discomfort so she stepped forward and joined him.

“Find me if you need anything.” she told Jaskier before leaving, giving him a comforting look.

Jaskier nodded, but she could see concern in his eyes.

Finally, she turns to red headed witcher and joins him down the hall. They walked in silence, Lambert clearly keeping his distance. Unfortunately for Y/N, the library was located at the other end of the Kaer Morhen and their awkward, silent walk took a while.

“Does your library have any books of First elves?” she asks when they finally made it. Lambert sat on top of the table and shrugged.

“Do I look like librarian? I have idea. I haven’t been in this part of castle for 5 years. You’re on your own, witch.”

Y/N approached the table so quickly she even surprised herself. Lifting her hand, with a small orb of red light in it, she pushes it towards his face. Lambert face was stone cold, no fear.

“Call me witch one more time, I dare you.” she hissed. She lowered the orb a little. He didn’t seem fazed at all.

“Don’t challenge me if you can’t keep up, sweetheart.” he suddenly grins. Y/N was about to protest but then she feels a soft pressure just above the bellybutton. She lowers her eyes and sees short but sharp blade, resting on her corset.

Y/N frowns.

“Seems like you’re forgetting why I’m here, witcher.” she warns him, ignoring the blade. Lambert raises his eyebrows a little then finally drops the blade. Y/N still stepped aside just in case.

“To decode some stupid letters, which are-”

“Yes, yes, waste of time. Now let me work if you don’t plan on helping me.” she says and walks away towards the shelves.

She heard Lambert mummering something but this time she decides to ignore him, switching focus on those old books in front of her. It was clear that someone organized them alphabetically long time ago but every now and then she would find some who obviously wouldn’t fit into that order. There was lots of books about herbs, survival skills and potion making but those weren’t helping at all. So, she moved to another bookshelf. There, Y/N found some historical books about Continent.

Beatrix of Kovir.

The Elder Blood.

The Conjunction of the Spheres.

And then, Y/N saw it. The old, yellow copy of Elder Speech Dictionary. She grabbed the book and started flipping pages. Few minutes passed by and…

Nothing.

All the symbols, words and phrases were something she was already familiar with. She sighed and put the book back in its place. She knew this wouldn’t be easy. Y/N took another look at those letters. That hand symbol bothered her. She felt like she saw it somewhere.

*Few hours later*

It was dark outside when Y/N finally looked through the library window. Some time ago, Jaskier showed up with a glass of wine and dinner which Y/N barely tasted. She couldn’t eat until she figured out the hand symbol. Lambert was long gone, with no explanation or excuse, but Y/N certainly didn’t mind.

Just some time after midnight, the doors of the library opened again.

“You’re still here?” Vesemir asked, entering the room and then closing the doors behind him.

“I can’t sleep until I figure this out.” Y/N answered, flipping through the Book of Urban Myths. Truth is, she was not looking forward to her dreams. She knew she would have to relive that dream all over again.

Vesemir chuckled, but it sounded miserable. “I appreciate the optimism but I’m afraid the books won’t do much of help.”

Y/N stopped flipping through the book and looked at Vesemir.

“You’re right. We should try my method.”

“Which is?” he raises eyebrows.

“Jaskier didn’t tell you? I’m oneiromancer.” Y/N said, closing the book in her hands.

Vesemir thought about it for a second and then slowly nodded. “We should give your method a chance then.” he said, crossing arms on his chests.” But not with me since I haven’t seen Geralt for a while now and therefor won’t be much of use to you. You should do it with the one who last saw him.”

“And who was that?” Y/N asks, glad he agreed with her.

“Lambert.”

[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.” 

[honeywitchers]

Witchers and Crafts Don’t Mix

A/N:  This is from another one of my blogs that I decided to seperate my Witcher content from.  I plan on deleting the original from that blog so if you have seen this before under a different name I promise I didn’t steal the story!

Pairing:  Lambert x Fem!Reader feat. Eskel & Geralt

Content and Warnings: Strong Language per usual, banter, established relationship, use of Y/N and she/her.

Word Count:  684 just a lil’ guy

Summary:  Y/N and the boys take a moment to rest and somehow end up trying out wood carving.  It turns out that she and her significant other, Lambert, are the harshest critics.

It wasn’t often that Y/N and the group of witchers, who she lovingly referred to as ‘her boys’, got a little down time.  Because of this, sometimes they found themselves doing the most unusual, uncharacteristic activities when the opportunity presented itself.  Why not indulge in things other than monster slaying?  I mean, why shouldn’t a group of burley, manly, intimidating witchers be allowed to sit upon scattered tree stumps in the middle of a field of long grass and wildflowers while whittling miniature animals out of wood?

“How do you like my creation, darling?”  Y/N smiled widely, turning to her romantic companion, Lambert, who was sitting on a tree stump to her left.

“It’s….”  Lambert paused for a moment to glare at Eskel, sitting across from him, who was not so sneakily trying to hide a snicker.  “Esk, what do you think?”  

Eskel’s face straightened up immediately when he noticed Y/N staring at him intently, waiting for an answer.  

“Oh!  It’s, um, it’s a lovely looking…uh…”  Eskel’s eyes narrowed at the object  that vaguely resembled an animal in her outstretched hand.  “It’s a lovely looking goat, Y/N.”  A grin slowly appeared on his face as Lambert rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Eskel!”  She said, her face gleamed with delight.

The three friends turned their attention to Geralt, who was seated quietly on the ground against the only tree left in the field.  His position was nearby, but far enough for the group to not hear what words he was mumbling to himself.  As if he felt the sets of eyes focused on him, he lifted his head from his carving-in-progress.  

“What?”  Geralt grunted.

“What in fresh hell is that, wolf?”  Lambert blurted, earning a smack to his shoulder from his love.  “What?!?”

“Oh, don’t look offended, Lamb, you were being rude!”  She scolded him.

“Yeah, Lamb.”  Eskel repeated, emphasizing the nickname she gave him.  

Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes, gently placing her finished wooden goat carving on the soft ground next to the stump she had been seated on.  Placing her small dagger along with it, she then stood up and began to walk slowly over to Geralt.

“So….”  She kneeled down in front of him.  “What is it that you’re making, Geralt?”  Her eyes narrowed, yet her smile never faltered.

“It’s….it’s supposed to be a donkey.”  Geralt’s eyes didn’t meet Y/N’s as he set his whittling knife back into his leather pouch.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the misshapen object in his hands.  It looked like it somehow had two heads, a rabbit’s tail, and seemed to be missing a leg.  

“HA!”  Lambert erupted with laughter.  “Are you serious?”  He stood up and walked over to join Y/N and his fellow witcher.  “Geralt, tell me, since when do donkeys have two heads and three legs?”

“Hm.”  Geralt grunted, tossing the donkey-like creature aside.  “Better than her deformed goat.”  He pointed at Lambert’s mate, unaffected by the frown on her face.  

“Geralt!”  She crossed her arms across her chest after she stood back up.  “You know what?  Yeah, Lamb, that looks nothing like a donkey.”  Y/N smirked.

Geralt furrowed his eyebrows and looked back and forth between her and Lambert, but said nothing.

“It kinda looks like roadkill.”  She continued.

“HA!  That’s my girl!”  Lambert’s arm found its place around her shoulder.

“It’s got a face only a mother could love.  Like it got pulled off a ship and mauled by an aeschna.”  Y/N giggled as she went on.  “Actually, is that a tail, or its intestines coming out of its ass?”

“She’s got a point, you know.  Should listen to the lady.  She knows her monster mauls…..and asses.”

“There is something deeply wrong with both of you.”  Eskel chimed in, not daring to move from his seat, still whittling away at a clump of wood.

“What can I say, Eskel, I prefer my women disturbed.”  Lambert smirked before placing a quick peck on Y/N’s lips.

“Yeah.”  She looked at Lambert dreamily, hugging into his waist.  “A match made in hell.”

[weirdfishy]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

🥺 thank ye for thinking of me <3

these are my favorite fics and I think you should read them :))

they're all ao3 links

A Million Pieces - set in a modern AU of The Witcher with a focus on Eskel (my beloved) and the premise is that he recently got his scar (somehow, hush) and he's grappling with the depression that's a part of the aftermath. hella angst, deals with suicidal ideation.

it's one of my very first fics - my third from feb of '21 - and it's very solidly one of the ones i'm most proud of. v emotional

crack, hob flirts back, heart attack - crack fic for The Sandman where Hob & The Corinthian slept together BUT they didn't know each other's connection to Morpheus/etc. UNTIL they met in the dreaming. 10/10 my humor may have peaked here these two are attractive and Know It, the corintian pov adds nicknames for dream into the mix and Dream will forever be known as Neverending Story to me, you can't change my mind :)

by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache - dreamling fic!! getting together, they're soft and in love with each other, another Hob Is Dreaming Of Morpheus & Shows How Much He's In Love With Him. also the last chapter was released in celebration and the second part of the last chapter is quite possibly The Best & Softest IMO

C'est la vie - Criminal Minds, Emily Prentiss x reader where the reader murders the person that killed their parents :) ambiguous ending <3 and descriptions of gore and death

this is my child that i'm still nursing bc it's still getting rewritten as multi-chaptered fic BUT the og does me proud for a one-shot; sorry for those who are waiting (few you may be, i appreciate you all the same) but i'm tryna get this one right bc it's so close to my heart

At First Sight - Criminal Minds, Emily Prentiss x reader, same set up as C'est la vie but it tangents from it. fanfic of fanfic basically, but it's a blurb about how Emily might have reacted to seeing what you had done in revenge. descriptions of gore and death

~

hope you enjoy them if you read them! mahalo nui

lol the three not of The Sandman universe were posted in the early months of 2021, i can't believe they're almost two years old!! weird how my favorites are from the very beginning of my fic writing and so recently (literally less than a month ago)

oh here’s my entire fic list :)

[queenxxxsupreme]

The Witcher Masterlist II

(* indicates NSFW/smut)

Updated 9.21.2022 Add yourself to my taglist here! My The Witcher I masterlist is here! My Henry Cavill Masterlist is here! My Red Dead Redemption 2 Masterlist is here! My The Boys Masterlist is here!

BOLD IS NEW CONTENT

Netflix!Eskel

Series

Broken Paths and Fallen Cities (witcher x witch series) -To Any Semblance of Touch -Down A Chilling Hall, A Fire Grows* -To Survive is to Suffer -To Follow the Heat of the Flame -Sober Thoughts Spoken By Intoxicated Lips -What’s Lost Cannot Be Found, But Can Be Forged -Of Mornings Soft and Delightful -Mischievous Encounters in Unfortunate Places* -Beneath the Willow I Fall -With Love Will Come Worry -Before A Collapse -A Convergence of Cataclysmic Sorts (prelude to series)

Headcanons/Drabbles

-NSFW Alphabet*

Asks/Requests

1 | 2 |

Netflix!Coen

Series

Coen x single mom!reader part 1 | part 2

Dettlaff

Headcanons

-SFW Alphabet

Asks/Requests

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

Regis

Asks/Requests

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Vernon Roche

Asks/Requests

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Witchers (Lambert, Geralt, Eskel)

-kinks (*NSFW)

dad!Witchers (Lambert, Geralt, Eskel)

in chronological order -dad!witchers find out they are expecting -dad!witchers x pregnant!reader -dad!witchers deal with pregnancy cravings -dad!witchers deal with labor -dad!witchers with their newborns part 1 -dad!witchers with their newborns part 2 -dad!witchers with their newborns part 3 -dad!witchers being called “dada” for the first time -dad!witchers kiss a booboo -dad!witchers and tantrums -dad!witchers and the Cuddle Your Toddler Challenge -dad!witchers and nighttime -dad!witchers and dad reflexes -dad!witchers try to get them to eat veggies -dad!witchers and the first pet -dad!witchers and breakfast in bed -dad!witchers and getting interrupted -dad!witchers braid their daughters’ hair -dad!witchers and the first date

Others

-Vesemir gives the pups bowl cuts -Vesemir Meets Nadia (Eskel’s daughter) -Triss Marigold Ask (kiss prompt) -1200 Followers Celebration Masterlist -Unlikely Allies (The Wither + Red Dead Redemption 2 crossover)

[cosmos-coma]

was thinking all night of an eskel request, and i think i finally got one! eskel pining for the reader while at kaer morhen for the winter, maybe some teasing from the other witchers? super in the mood for fluff, so if you get around to this, extra cuteness plsss and thank you!

Before the Snow is Gone

A/N: My friend I will ALWAYS be happy to write up your requests. I'll admit that I really struggled with this one for some reason, but I hope I made it comedic and fluffy for you!

Pairing: Eskel X Reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: bit of angst and depression (from Eskel)

_______________________

Geralt and Lambert poked their head around the frame of the kitchen door as another sigh came from the room. There they watched Eskel look forlornly into the stew pot as he stirred, his eyes and thoughts somewhere far from here. 

“Is he still sighing about missing his lover?” Lambert whispered to his white-haired brother, watching as Eskel began rummaging through the spice jars, looking depressed at each and every option.

“He’s been like this for 2 weeks and we’re only a month into winter... Even Lil Bleater can’t cheer him up like she used to.” Geralt said, shaking his head as he watched his brother finally settle on a spice and add it to the pot. 

“What are we looking at?” Asked Yennefer's voice as her head appeared between the two men. 

“Is Eskel moping again?” Jaskier asked now, his head poking out above everyone else’s. 

Geralt blinked as he looked up at his bard. “Jask, you’re shorter than I am. How are you-?” 

“I’m standing on a chair…” he admitted as everyone pulled away from the doorway to talk face to face. 

“There has to be something we can do. I don't want to eat sad stew again.” Lambert complained with arms crossed. 

Yennefer was the first to pipe up this time, “I... think I may have an idea..”

----

Lil Bleater propped herself up on his legs, baaing and begging for attention as Eskel took care of the other stable animals. She huffed when she didn’t immediately get the petting she craved and stamped her feet against him. 

“I’m sorry, Kiddo… I guess I’m just not really here right now.” He said as he finally took the time to pause and look down at her frustrated grunts. Another sigh left his lips as he kneeled down to pet her and jostle her horns in a weak effort to play. He knew he wasn’t being any fun lately and he knew everyone else could see it. Hell, Vesemir even tried to have a talk with him the other week, but it had little effect. 

He couldn’t help it if he missed you so greatly. He had spent his warmer months being by your side as much as he could. Memorizing your voice, your eyes, and the feel of your hand in his as much as he could so it would all be perfect in his memory when winter came. 

But now… now it was only making it more glaringly obvious that you really weren't by his side. That you weren’t truly there to whisper to him in the dead of night when he can't sleep, nor to smile at him as you simply passed by. 

“I don't know what I'm gonna do for the rest of the winter, Bleater… it’s getting hard just to get out of bed each morning, let alone go through my chores.” He mumbled softly to the bright-eyed kid. “I’m a witcher, you know? I should be better than this… I’ve faced vampires, and dragons, so-” he paused for a moment as he idly scratched Lil Bleater’s chin.  “So why is it so hard to leave...? Even when I know I’ll be back…”

Lil Bleater only quietly baaed in response, trying to soothe her dedicated caretaker, but not sure how. So she does what all goats do best- she chews on his fingers. 

Another sigh from the soft-hearted witcher, this time with a small smile, “I Love them so much…” he mumbled out, getting lost in his own thoughts again, until an unexpected voice pulled him back with a snap. 

“I Love you too, Eskel.” 

He blinked as he heard it. That was… your voice…? That was your voice! It was you! Eskel spun around to face where the sound came from and nearly dropped Lil Bleater back to the ground when he saw you.

There you stood in the open stable doors, wrapped in your warm winter clothes, cheeks ruddy from the cold, and a big bundle of clothes in your hands. Your breath puffed up in front of your face as you dropped your bag and ran straight into his arms. 

Eskel could hardly contain his excitement as your beaming face came running into his embrace. “You’re here..! but, how…?” Eskel asked, hugging you tight against his chest and drinking in your scent. Soft kisses pressed against your forehead and your temple as you tried to answer, but you couldn't get your words out past the laughter bubbling from you.

“We thought you could use a visit...” came Yennefers voice as she also drifted into view of the stable doors, followed by Geralt, Lambert, and Jaskier. “You’ve been moping about for weeks now and I figured it's easy enough to conjure a portal,” she shrugged, “I open up another portal Home in a few days, so enjoy it.” 

“Geralt, Lambert, and I are also gonna take care of your chores, so you can enjoy your time together.” Jaskier chimed in with a thumbs up and that characteristic charming smile,“and that time starts now, so go on and get out of here! Shoo! Go be gross and in love,” he said, quickly ushering you two out and tossing your bundle of clothes at Eskel. 

Laughter trailed behind you two as Eskel led you inside so you could settle down. However, Eskel rumbled with quiet excitement, and as quick as you settled he was taking your hand to show you everything about the keep. From the kitchen to the armory and everything in between, your beloved witcher just wanted to share every part of his childhood home that he held dear on your first visit. 

“I missed you so much” You mumbled as you took a pause from reading. 

Eskel had finally snuck you away to the Keep’s library at the end of the tour so you two could spend the perfect first evening together. Hot chocolate filled your mugs and your sweet whispers filled the air as you read to him. His head lay tenderly on your chest as he soaked in the warmth of your presence. The fire crackled softly before you and everything was just as it should be. 

“I missed you too… I’m glad you finally get to visit after hearing about it so much” he lifted his head to smile up at you, that notch in his lip tugging it into a larger grin. “And we’ll make the most of our time here. I promise. We can do anything you want- build snowmen, ice skate-” 

“Even just cuddle up under a blanket to fight off the cold…?” you offered with a shake of your head and a chuckle, “I don't care what we do, Eskel, as long as I can be next to you. We could spend the entire visit cleaning up horse shit and- as long as I don’t get any on my face- then I would still consider it an amazing time.”

Eskel’s chest rumbled with laughter that easily passed through your whole body, “I mean- that can be arranged…” 

An even stronger laugh emanated from him as you poked him in the ribs and frowned, “I think I’d rather fall in the lake, Esk. Let’s just take this day by day, okay?” you asked, running your fingers through that lovely dark hair of his. “I love you so much, Eskel. No matter what we do or how far away you are or how hard it is that I can’t see you.” 

You smiled as you pressed a soft kiss to his slightly chapped lips,“and I love knowing that I’ll be able to see you again as soon as the first flowers bloom.”

“Oh, Darling,” Eskel smiled, his expression easy and light as his honey-like eyes melted your heart into a sweet puddle, “I’ll be at your door long before the snow is even gone.” 

___________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight (<3) @dark-academia-slut @madamemelancholysstuff

[cas-kingdom]

Luna Wolf

A/N: This has been long in the making, as in written sparingly over a few months, so it is a little choppy, but I missed posting stories about this duo. Please enjoy! (For the purpose of this fic—and our poor emotions—Eskel’s death comes a little differently than how it’s shown in the episode).

The italics indicate flashbacks to separate scenes in the second episode of season 2 (and one not in the show at all). Hopefully they’re easily identifiable!

Find the OC version of this fic here.

Title: Luna Wolf

Summary: Geralt finds you on the bleak path of revenge as you hunt the leshy that killed Eskel.

Words: 3518

“That wasn't our brother. Not by the end of it…

You saw nothing but the path ahead as you wove through the thick woods.

…And bitterness won't help us find what killed him.”

You whacked at a low-hanging branch with the sword gripped in your fist. Your jaw clenched so tight you could feel the bones grating against each other, hear the jarring noise reverberating in your ears along with the quickening thrum of your heart, but you didn’t care.

“Oh, I know what killed him.”

All you cared about was the monster you were following, and the feeling of metal sinking into its rotten flesh.

You rubbed the knuckles of your free hand furiously across your cheeks before the icy wind could freeze your tears. The moon was high in the sky, and you had been pacing after the monster’s invisible tracks for what must have been half an hour, unsure as to where you were going but certain you needed to be anywhere but Kaer Morhen. Your feet had taken you on this path, your mind fixed solely on the leshy that had killed Eskel.

“Come on, then.” Eskel stood back, his eyes lingering on Princess Cirilla of Cintra, as she had so eloquently just introduced herself, for the briefest of moments. He rubbed his hands together and looked expectantly between his brothers. “Where is she? Where is the pup?”

Lambert stuffed a roll in his mouth and spoke around it. “Last I heard, she was taking a shi—” You suddenly appeared with a painful kick to his leg, and he aimed the rest of his roll at your head.

“I was putting my stuff in my room, dickbert.” You picked up the bread, tossed it back at him, then turned to Eskel with the biggest grin you could muster. An understanding passed between you, one that had the witcher mirroring your grin before opening his arms wide. You felt a surge of excitement as you jumped forward and wrapped yourself around him. Your heart jumped at his noticeable hiss of pain, but he expertly covered it with a laugh and your joy caused you to momentarily push any apprehension away.

Eskel pressed kiss after kiss to the side of your head, resolving you to childish laughter he’d missed. “Time away from you has aged me, my Luna Wolf,” he said.

You grasped his hair, caked with mud and blood, and placed your own kiss on his cheek. “Well, you don’t look a day older than the last time I saw you.”

“Now, that’s a lie! Come here, you.”

There had been a moment at Kaer Morhen where you had felt whole. You had been home with Geralt and your family, safe and in a place where you could loosen your muscles without worrying about becoming the next monster’s food. Vesemir had been without serious concern, Lambert had been his usual sarcastic self, and Eskel had calmed every nerve you might have been harbouring with that single hug. The situation Geralt, and inadvertently you, had found himself in with his overdue Child of Surprise had simply not bothered you for a mere few hours as you made yourselves warm for the winter in the Keep.

You stumbled as your boot caught on an uprooted tree stump, and you stuck your arms out to steady yourself. For the first time in twenty absent-minded minutes of following tracks you couldn’t even see, your surroundings and your situation caught up to you. You stopped and the wind roared in your ears, the distant howl of a wolf mingled within it. Your loose hair flew viciously around you, slamming into your face, numb with cold, and scraping against your neck.

Once again, you reached up to wipe at your cheeks, finding that your hands were trembling. With cold or nerves, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you wished to defeat it. That feeling of weakness. That—that horrid notion that you weren’t strong enough to protect those who had protected you for the entirety of your life.

With an angry snarl, you stepped over the tree and twisted your sword in your grasp, ignoring the wind and the numbness and renewing your desire to put your feet forward, one after the other, and kill something in need of killing.

“Who’s the princess?” Eskel broached the question as soon as he and you made it to the hallway and out of earshot of the others. “I mean, who is she really?”

You took his sword from his faltering hold, and he withheld any protest, rolling his shoulder back once the added weight was gone. You shrugged lightly. “A girl who’s lost a lot, I’ve come to realise,” you said. You and Ciri were no longer at odds with each other, and with your new truce came solidarity. You had accepted Ciri’s position in your relationship with Geralt. “She’s alright,” you added, “not at first. We didn’t get on, if you can believe it.” Eskel rose an eyebrow and his lips drew upwards in a knowing smirk. “Anyway.” At his obvious amusement you moved to walk backwards and in front of him. You eyed his shoulder. “Your arm. I know you’ve hurt it.”

Eskel frowned and slowed a bit. “Hm?” He glanced at the limb in question. “Oh, no, no. I’m fine. This isn’t my blood.”

You stopped suddenly and Eskel almost walked straight into you. Before he could voice his surprise, you reached for his sleeve. “Now, that’s a lie,” you cheekily echoed. Then, serious, “No monster bleeds red like that.”

“Have you become a nagger in the last couple years or is it just Vesemir’s influence—alright. Hey. Let me have a look at you instead.” He didn’t let you touch his skin, pushing your hands away before they could get beneath his shirt. Instead, he grasped your shoulders and plastered a grin on his face, pushing you far enough away so he could look at you properly. “Gods,” he gasped out dramatically, “you’re a woman now, aren’t you? We’ve finally reached the dreaded day, haven’t we?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his fingers as they went to jab at your stomach, though a smile pulled at your lips all the same. “Master of deflection,” you accused.

Eskel quirked a brow and draped an arm over your shoulders. He turned you so you could continue walking down the hall and leaned his cheek against you head. “I think I’ll have a party tonight, Luna. What do you think?”

The wind continued to batter your face and the sky had since opened to let the first drops of rain spill. You could feel your boots sinking into the damp ground and your heart was beating a mile a minute.

You fell so suddenly you had no time to reach out and break your landing. A winded breath left your lungs and you lay in the mud for a moment before readjusting your grip on your sword and using it to push yourself up. Once you got to your feet, your boot slipped, and you went down once more. Frustrated, dirty and completely overwhelmed, you grit your teeth and let out a scream before falling into exhausted sobs.

“What is that?” You stared at what could only be a leshy. You had never seen one before, had only heard about them during late night stories around the woodfire, but you stored images of all the monsters Geralt had conjured for you in your mind, and the monster in front of you now matched the leshy’s description.

But this leshy, or whatever it was, was oddly, frighteningly human-like. It moved in a familiar way, a weird thing to say for a monster, but this monster didn’t seem entirely that. All instincts in you were muffled for a moment as you watched it shift quickly around the laboratory.

Your grip tightened on your sword. You’d grabbed it before running to where you could hear the throes of a fight.

Geralt stopped attacking the monster in order to whip his head around at your sudden voice. An abrupt panic overcame his face at the sight of you there—you were a good fighter, of course you were, but no matter your age and experience, his panic would always be justified—but he was forced back into battle before he could order you away.

“The door!” Vesemir called. you darted out of the way of the doorway before Geralt could shove you out. He noted your cleverness with a very audible growl but aimed his magic at the opening nevertheless, sending a bolt of magic through to block it from the leshy’s escape. The leshy sent him flying straight after.

You sprung into action, crying out as you sped forward and attacked the scattered wooden limbs with vigour. The monster fought back as Geralt recovered, then focused its attention on all three of its opponents.

You had never fought with Vesemir before, and perhaps in another situation you might have taken notice of such a big thing, such a big accomplishment, but something was strange about this leshy. You weren’t even sure it was a leshy at all.

In a short time, you had the monster pinned.

“Eskel,” Vesemir said, peering up at it. “We need time. We can save you.”

It was then your mouth went dry.

You turned and closed your hand around a clump of soaked mud, pushing yourself up until you could get to your feet. You barely took one step forward before a hand grasped your wrist and you whirled around, the witcher instincts within you causing you to lash out with your sword at whoever had caught you. The clang of metal against metal resounded throughout the forest as your blade met Geralt’s. He had lifted it just in time, his other hand still wrapped around your own.

His face was a mixture of emotions you were too tired to decipher. Concern? Shock? Did the clenching of his jaw mean he was angry? It usually did, but the look in his eyes told you otherwise.

Slowly, Geralt lowered his sword, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

“Y/N…” he said, his words slow and his voice quiet. Deep. Something you could hardly hear above the noise of the growing storm.

You tugged on your hand, but his strength didn’t waver. Your nostrils flared and your vision bleared with tears as your emotions heightened tenfold. In a sudden flutter of frustration that you couldn’t quite place, you lashed out once more, giving Geralt barely enough time to shoot his sword up to block your hit.

“Y/N!” Geralt’s voice was strained as he struggled against the wooden arm pinning him to the wall. “You need to move!”

You panicked. You had been helping in the fight all you could, hitting at a branch when it got too close and stabbing at parts of Esk—the monster where you couldn’t quite hurt it. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to do more. You could do more, you’d been taught to do more by the very people you should be helping in this room, but there was a bigger part of your mind that could only see Eskel. Because beneath the monster, there he was. He really, achingly, truly was.

“Y/N!” That was Vesemir. Your head snapped to look at him. A branch was holding him by the neck, squeezing the very life out of him. You wanted nothing more than to cut the branch in half, but that was Eskel. It was Eskel. Your Eskel.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!” Geralt had let go of your arm. He was taking quick steps back, forced to with the power in his child’s flustered hits. There was no fight in his own strikes. He was defending himself and nothing more.

“Hey,” he tried, “it’s me! It’s Geralt!”

“I won’t go back!” you shouted, gasping with the force of your own blows. “I’m finding the leshy and I’m going to kill it!”

Geralt’s brows furrowed and he stopped moving. He took your hits, blocking them from where his feet remained planted to the floor. “Everyone is worried for you,” he said.

“No! They all think I killed Eskel!” Your voice broke as you slammed your sword against his. “And I did!” Another. “I drove my sword through him! I killed him!” And another. “I killed Eskel!” Tears poured down your face and sobs spilled from your lips as Geralt took it all. “He’s dead, and it’s my fucking fault!”

At that, Geralt pushed against your sword with his own, twisting it harshly and so suddenly, in a way that had it falling from your grasp. You paused, exhausted, as it fell to the ground, clattering against the rock. Before you could pick it up, Geralt had grabbed you. He spun you around and held your back to his chest, his arms crossed in front of you, your wrists in his hands. You seemed to accept it quickly, succumbing to your emotion as you bent over his arms and fell into uncontrollable sobs.

Geralt dropped his head to speak into your ear. “We killed the leshy. Together,” he stated simply, loud enough for you to hear. The rain was heavier, tumbling through the leaves of the trees. “There is no blame, Y/N. We did what we had to, to save Vesemir. To save our home and the other witchers. And—” He gently lowered you both to the ground—“to save Eskel.”

“Give me your sword, Y/N!” Geralt had one hand on the leshy as it pinned him to the wall and the other trapped beneath him. He did not have the means nor strength to kill the monster alone, and you knew that. Still, as you went to do as you were told, wrapping your hands tightly around the hilt of your sword, you kne you didn’t have the strength either.

It was when you heard him choke that the strength finally found you. The sound of Geralt’s pain had you fleetingly forgetting Eskel. Instinctively, you lifted your sword so he could glide his free hand across the blade until it glowed. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“We’ll do it together,” Geralt said. He grasped the hilt and waited for you to grab his hand before you both pushed together. The blade pierced the leshy’s wooden hide with a spray of sunset sparks and the leshy screeched, dropping Vesemir.

You met the leshy’s eyes as it writhed and fell to the floor, and realised they were still his.

The rain soaked the two kneeling in the mud. As you fell limply against Geralt, he loosened his hold and turned you in his arms, pulling your head to rest against his shoulder. His other hand went to your back, keeping you against him. Impulsively, you curled your hands in Geralt’s tunic, holding onto the fabric for dear life as you buried your face into his shoulder.

Geralt tipped his face and rested his lips against the top of your head. He shut his eyes and ignored the feeling of water streaking down the back of his shirt. He had been searching for you for an agonising while, calling after you in the forest, following any footprints he could make out. Lambert had regretted his words the moment he’d said them but was too proud to have stopped you before you left the room. He couldn’t have known your first impulse would be to take up your sword and leave the Keep in search for the leshy, anyway. Geralt had, of course, but he knew you best. Knew where your anger could take you. He’d run after you the moment Ciri had told him she’d looked all around but couldn’t find you.

“Lambert didn’t mean what he said,” Geralt promised. “He was angry. We all are.”

You shook your head. “He was right.”

“No.”

“I should have pressed him. He was hurt. I could tell. I should have made him tell me.” Your words were muffled but loud enough for him to hear.

Geralt sighed as he stroked the lengths of your hair down your back. “No, Y/N.”

You seemed as though you might have said something more, but at the last second a pitiful noise escaped your lips instead, and you dropped your head against his chest. You grasped his shoulders and clenched the wet fabric of his shirt even more.

Noiselessly, Geralt reached into the pocket of his trousers and withdrew a medallion. The rain immediately washed the rest of the red off. He ran his thumb across the wolf emblem before he took one of your hands and pressed it into your palm.

“This is yours,” he said quietly. “It was in his pocket. He made another. Vesemir and I found it before we buried him.”

You wore your original medallion, the first Eskel had made for you, around your neck. You hadn’t removed it since he’d put it there on your eleventh birthday. It wasn’t like the witchers’ medallions, of course, but the meaning was there all the same, every nook and carved line of the young wolf pup calming you each time your fingers ran across them.

Blinking to clear the haze, you brought the new medallion, its metal cold against your skin, up to your face. You stared at it for a long time. The wolf had grown. This was a full-fledged adult, its mouth roaring in the centre of the medallion, teeth on full display. A full moon shone behind it.

“He called you Luna Wolf because she is the leader of the pack,” Geralt said, knowing you knew but needing to remind you all the same. “As you have always been ours. He does not blame you.”

You could say nothing more as you closed your hand around the medallion and drew it closer to your chest. You turned your face further into him and hid yourself from the world.

Geralt, meanwhile, stared grim-faced at the path ahead. He had one hand on the back of your head, the other wrapped around you, holding you close to him. The rain was lashing down and he could feel you trembling beneath him, but he knew neither of you would be moving for a while.

He would find the leshy. He had decided on that probably around the time you had. You were connected in that way, a need for vengeance brought upon solely by a broken heart. He feared he’d taught you that. But he’d find it when you were sleeping, with a number of eyes on you to ensure you wouldn’t leave to follow him. He refused to let you. It wouldn’t achieve what you thought it would.

You finally crumpled in Geralt’s hold, your body slacking. You were a wolf pup all over again between the legs of your father, his arms around you, his head over yours, protecting you from more than just the rain.

“He does not blame you,” Geralt whispered again. “I swear to you, little one. He loved you more than life.”

You knew.

“What is it?”

“Shh.” Eskel put a finger to his lips and stretched his leg out to kick the door closed. The witchers were often up hunting at all hours of the night; they couldn’t afford to lose any lie-ins.

You put your own little finger to your lips in acknowledgement and shifted yourself under your covers, sitting cross-legged. Usually, it was you who woke the witchers on the morning of anyone’s birthday, your childish heart desperate to get the day of—typically lacklustre—celebrations started, but this morning, before the sun had even risen above the mountains across the Keep, Eskel had been the one to sneak into your room and wake you with the promise of presents.

“Open it and see.” Eskel brought his legs up and tucked them beneath him. He sat at the corner of the bed, a small grin on his face as he watched you unwrap his gift from the leaf he’d tied around it. He felt like an excited child himself, and he let himself sink in it. He had been waiting some time for you to spend your next birthday at Kaer Morhen, and the day had finally come.

You let loose a small gasp. You picked up the metal circle and even with the lack of light, the witcher could see the pure sparkle in your eyes. Your silence told him all. You ran your little thumb across the surface in awe before launching yourself at him.

Eskel let you push him back on the bed, laughing softly. He squeezed you then, relishing in your little arms around his neck. “Am I to take this as a sign that you like it?”

“My very own medallion!” you said in his ear. “I love it! I love it so much! I’m finally one of you!”

“Oh, little Luna. You’ve always been one of us. You don’t need a medallion to prove it.”

Yes. You knew.

Witcher Masterpost

[bethdutten]

something sweet

Eskel x princess!reader

Part 1

An arranged marriage between the Witchers and a princess seemed cruel to Eskel-- especially if he was the one she had to marry.

notes: ok I got off track with my other stuff but anyways here have insecure eskel being adorable and perfect. part 2 will be smut!

I’m so sorry.

Those words echoed in Eskel’s mind all night as he stole glances of you out of the corner of his eye. The music was jovial and loud, family and friends and nobles laughing the night away and dancing filling every corner of the castle. It should have been a joyous night—a wedding that permanently forged an alliance between two of the strongest families.

Except Eskel was the one you had to marry, and he was only too well aware of how this was only the beginning of your nightmare.

Tomorrow, you’d go with him and his brothers back to Kaer Morhen, locked away for the rest of your life, a princess trapped by her dragon.

I’m so sorry.

You took a sip of your wine, letting out a sigh quiet enough that only he could hear above all the noise. You were radiant today— an angel, glowing and so far above him it almost seemed a crime that he was the one who got to have you. Even if it wasn’t real.

At the ceremony, your hands were so small in his, soft and gentle in a way his could never be, try as he might. He couldn’t look at you as he repeated the words of the priest, not wanting to see the fear or, gods forbid, the disgust, in your eyes. He was adamant he stood in the right side of the altar, despite breaking tradition, so he could face the priest the entire time and spare you a glance as his scarred face.

When it came time to exchange the rings and seal the partnership with a kiss, he was surprised to find his hands were the only ones shaking. You must have been resigned to your fate—no longer fighting, but accepting of the losing hand you had been dealt.

“You may kiss your bride.”

Eskel hesitated to turn to you, not ready to give you a full and terrifying look at what you had just been chained to for life—

You reached up with your left hand, new wedding ring glinting off the candle light, cupping his face with the softest touch he has ever, in his entire life, felt. You guided him to look at you, palm resting over the scars that made most humans ill, and leaned up to kiss him. Your lips were warm and gentle, only pressed against his for a moment, but your thumb brushed against the notch at the corner and he had to suppress a shudder before you dropped your hand and gave him what could almost be described as a coy smile before you turned back to the priest.

You were too good for him. Too good for anyone. And as he glared over at Geralt and Lambert, who were luckily spared from most of the human interaction and huddled in a dark corner, he once again wondered what he could do to make it up to you. To make your life a little less miserable than it would inevitably be, being married to a monsterous witcher.

“Are you alright?”

Eskel startled, turning to you. You had a look of concern on your face, and he had to stop himself from making a very undignified noise when your hand came out to rest on his thigh.

“Uh— yes, I j-just, uh— no. No, no I’m fine.” Gods, he couldn’t even speak around you. Thank Melitele for little mercies, that today was the first time you met and you didn’t know how much of an ugly, intimidating, stupid mess he was before, or you would have definitely refused this coupling.

You still looked worried, no doubt by the fact he couldn’t get a complete sentence out. But you finally nodded, retracting your hand and Eskel had to hold back a whimper at losing a caring touch once again. It was the first time he was getting consistent and gentle attention, and he was already drunk on it after a few hours.

“Well, let me know if you need to get out of here. I wouldn’t mind escaping, either.”

Eskel’s heart dropped, although he really shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone wants to escape him. Why would his own wife be any different? He nodded, throwing one more glance at his brothers. “I could leave, yes.”

“Oh, good,” you breathed a sigh of relief, finishing the last gulp of your wine then standing. Eskel tried not to let his hurt show, but it must have been clear. Your face was etched in worry, and you only had to lean down slightly to press the back of your hand against his forehead. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Maybe you just need some rest… shall we retire to our quarters for the night?”

Eskel felt his mouth drop open in disbelief, but he quickly shook out of it, clearing his throat. Our quarters? Surely, you didn’t—

“That—that sounds lovely, princess.”

You gave him a look, looping your arm around his as he stood and tugging him along away from the crowd. “You don’t need to call me that, we’re married, I hope that puts us on equal status now.”

Swallowing, Eskel nodded, the warmth from your hand on his bicep even through his jacket making him shiver. “What should I call you then?”

You snorted, leaning against his side more heavily. “Hmm. My name, maybe? Or something sweet, whatever you’d like.”

“Sweet…heart?” Eskel felt dumb just saying it out loud, but all the blood that should be going to his brain was being dispersed other places and he couldn’t say he was at full mental capacity right now.

You laughed, and the sound made his heart clench. “Yes, I would like that very much, my love.”

Oh no, Eskel though. I’m fucked.

—-

The quarters held a large bed, with enough room to fit three witchers, and little else. It was clearly a honeymoon suite of a sort, but if Eskel could blush, he would.

You began pulling out pins from your hair the moment you closed the door, groaning as the elegant hairstyle you’d had done for the ceremony unraveled. You glanced shyly over your shoulder at where Eskel was left standing awkwardly by the doors. “Do you think you could…?”

Eskel moved forward, nodding, willing to do anything you asked of him. You reached behind and tugged at the ties for your dress. He got the hint— carefully pulling the string from its loops, slowly loosening your dress until you let out a breath.

“Finally,” you said, then proceeded to let your wedding dress drop unceremoniously to the floor and Eskel thinks he may have actually died during that last griffin fight, and by some miracle he was in heaven instead of hell.

“The hooks are harder,” you murmured, backing up a little more towards him until he got the hint. With shaky hands, Eskel undid your bodice, the silky chemise underneath being revealed more and more as he went.

When he was finished, he had just enough blood supply to his brain to quickly turn as you dropped that too to the the floor, giving you some privacy as you changed from your wedding dress undergarments to your sleep clothes. He heard the rustle of bedding, thinking it was finally safe to turn, and was met with a sight that would have taken any man out at the knees.

You were draped on the bed artfully, a see-through robe hanging off your shoulders with the blankets pulled back and only a small section of the sheets covering your legs. Your lingerie was red, almost the exact same shade as the jacket Eskel wore on the Path, and left little to the imagination.

Mouth dry and cock suddenly harder than the steel of his swords, Eskel asked, “What… what are you doing?”

The seductive and almost—hopeful?— expression on your face faltered, but you just shifted slightly on the bed, the robe slipping down further. “I’m waiting for my husband to come to bed on our wedding night.”

You… what? Eskel was not prepared for this. He in no way expected to even be ever sharing a room with his wife, let alone sleep in the same bed with her, sleep with her—

“You know I can’t— I can’t… can’t give you children, right?” Eskel gritted out, loath to explain that if you were doing this because you thought this marriage was to combine bloodlines and solidify the alliance with children, that would never be a possibility.

You frowned, self-consciously tugging the sheet further up your body now. You’d expected Eskel to already be on you, not arguing his way out of this. “I know. That was explained to me. I just— I thought you’d want to…”

He saw the moment you recognized your mistake, dawning in your eyes. You hurriedly tugged the robe tightly around your body, although it did little to hide much. “I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassed, I—“

“No!” Eskel didn’t want to see you in distress, at least not like this. Not when he could avoid it. Having you scared and repulsed to be with a witcher, that is what he was prepared for. Not his beautiful, perfect, gentle wife throwing herself at him and thinking she was being rejected. “No, that’s not—“ He nervously scratched at his scars, trying to think with his head and not his cock here. Did you think you had to do this? Did you really look at him, and feel attracted to that? He couldn’t be so lucky.

He glanced at you, making yourself smaller on the bed as you tugged a pillow to your chest, covering more of your body. He swallowed, his own lust clouding his thoughts, but he wasn’t a monster. He wouldn’t force himself on to you, ever. Just because you were his wife, didn’t mean he was entitled to anything.

Slowly approaching the bed, he gave you time to refuse him before he sat down on the edge by your side, anxiously plucking at a stray thread in the blanket before he glanced up to meet your eyes. He wanted you to see him up close— inhuman eyes, scarred face, size even other witchers hesitate to get near. He didn’t want to frighten you, body language vulnerable and open.

“Sweetheart.” It sounded strange coming out of his mouth, but not unwelcome. You peeked up at his, cheeks colouring slightly, and he thinks he could get used to that. “I need you to… tell me. What you want. Tonight, or any night. I need to… hear you say it. Because I don’t want to read something wrong, and make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

You frowned, your grip on the sheet loosening slightly. “Oh. You just— you just prefer me to tell you want I want?”

Eskel nodded, licking his lips. “Witchers may not be human, but we’re not mages, either. I can’t read minds.”

There was a pause, and then you snorted, tossing your pillow at him. “You idiot, I want you. I’ll tell you however often you need. Gods, Eskel, I thought I made that very clear.” You gestured to your lack of clothing, and Eskel cracked a smile despite himself, the words repeating in his head.

I want you. I want you. I want you. I want you.

“Really?” he asked.

You nodded, giving him a look he’d never seen before, then you leaned back against the headboard and slowly parted your legs wide. Your panties were lace, and when you reached down and tucked a finger in the gusset between your thighs to pull the fabric to the side, evidence of your arousal clung to the small amount of fabric, clear and sticky,

“Maybe you need to see, too.”

Maybe Eskel isn’t so sorry after all.

[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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