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#eskel is the Best Dad
toapoet · 10 months
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i know geralt is like token grumpy guy but what if he was also like…the “free dad hugs” guy at pride. ??
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jay-arts-t · 9 months
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Sometimes I just like to think about what it could've been if Geralt had gotten Ciri right after Pavetta and Duny died. If Calanthe was so weighed down by grief she realizes she can't take care of Ciri. So she orders Moussack to go find Geralt to collect Ciri. Imagining Geralt in a random tavern somewhere in Temeria, slowly making his way up to Kaer Morhen for the winter as autumn is approaching. Him having a gut feeling he should head up early, he thinks it's because something is wrong with Vesemir so he's anxious to make it through. But Roach needs to rest and well, it wouldn't hurt to get some extra supplies for the winter. Certainly wouldn't hurt to get some extra booze so he has relief from Lambert's grating voice on his ears. Besides, he and Eskel can stay up late and drink to their hearts content up in his room like they used to sneak around when they were teens.
Then out of the blue he sees Moussack, and dread fills his entire body. He doesn't keep up with news outside of what Dandelion tells him. So when Moussack is telling him Calanthe is summoning him he's thinking "oh fuck, she's changed her mind and is going to execute me."
But Moussack reassures him he's not going to be harmed. Calanthe is asking for him because of his child surprise. And now Geralt is really worried. What happened to them? Are they okay? Are they hurt? Did they die? They're only a few months old, there's so much that could've gone wrong. So he agrees to go with Moussack.
Calanthe looks a mess when Geralt sees her. Eist is by her side as always, trying to comfort her. Pavetta and Duny are nowhere in sight and it's making Geralt extremely antsy. Calanthe tells him the news, her voice is hoarse from all the crying she's been doing. Geralt sympathizes with them, gives them his condolences. And then that's when he realizes "oh. OH. OH NO". Sure enough Calanthe tells him she can't take care of herself, how could she care for a baby. Geralt refutes telling her "they're your grandchild, I don't want to rip them away-" and Calanthe tells him then it's a girl. And for a split second his brain gives the helpful thought of "oh I have a daughter" and Geralt is having an internal meltdown right there in the throne room. But he can't refuse. His entire basis for not coming back and claiming her is because she has a family who cares about her. But now that family is saying that they can't care for her, not because they don't love her, but because they do. So Geralt agrees to take her.
The first time he meets her he is entirely captivated by how small and precious she is. The moment he holds her he feels overwhelmed with such a fierce protectiveness and he can't help but absolutely adore her. He is trying so hard to stay stoic and unemotional but the moment he's alone with Ciri back in that old tavern he'd been at he just holds her and smiles. If he'd been a normal man, he probably would've burst into tears by how happy he was. (he did later once she got settled into Kaer Morhen, when he and Eskel did end up drinking up in his room. They're talking about the usual things, and then he looked over to her in her makeshift crib and just started bawling. Eskel freaks out and asks him what's wrong and he replies "I just love her so much."... Yes Eskel teared up.)
Then he has to go through the lovely moments of "how the fuck do you raise a baby" which Vesemir watches with so much amusement. Geralt raided most of Kaer Morhen's library and Nenneke's office for books about parenting. (Kaer Morhen has none, unsurprisingly.) He eventually asks Eskel to go to Oxenfurt and grab Dandelion and any books about parenting, childhood development, psychology and women's health he can find. (He is DREADING eventually having The Talk with Ciri but he won't be unprepared.) Dandelion is completely awestruck with Kaer Morhen of course however, nothing shocks him more than seeing Geralt looking bone tired with a 5 month old baby wailing in his arms, trying to soothe her.
"uh... What ya got there, Geralt?"
"H e l p."
Where's Yennefer? What about Yennefer?? Geralt is hesitant at first to even tell Yennefer he has a kid. But she sends him a letter one day, asking him where he is now that it's coming up on spring. (Ciri's first bday!!! Yay!!!! Also oh gods planning a birthday?!?!?!?? That's a thing??????) So he does tell her, and she understandably to her character demands to see this child surprise. So again, sends Eskel on out (pls Geralt, he's your childhood best friend, not your errand boy.) to go get Yennefer. Yennefer storms through the main hall, not even acknowledging Lambert and Vesemir, and right up to Geralt. How did she manage to find her way through the halls without ever being there before? Geralt doesn't know and he's scared by it. Yennefer spots Ciri, who's doing her tummy time. To which she's very fussy about and gives the nastiest glares an almost 1 year old can to her father. Yennefer is absolutely gobsmacked that Geralt was being genuine. She points to Ciri, then to Geralt, then back to Ciri, to Geralt.
"YOU?????? HOW????"
"I'm really bad at making jokes."
Yennefer adores Ciri, but Ciri is a little skeptical of her. Who is this strange woman????? Where is her dad?????? Where's her other dad (Dandelion)???? How dare she smell nice and be warm???? Ugh as if she'd let her feed her!!! No way! Yennefer is always completely drenched with baby food whenever she attempts to feed Ciri. Geralt tries so hard not to laugh at her. Ciri is absolutely seething by the end of it and is only contained when Geralt picks her up and holds her securely. Then it's like little devil Ciri never existed, she's all smiles and babbling happily to her dad. Yennefer gets really disheartened over it. Late at night she ends up crying over it, thinking it wouldn't matter if she was able to have kids or not; Ciri proves she'd be a horrible mother anyway. Geralt doesn't know what to say at first, but he knows it's not true. Yennefer is trying her best, it's just that Ciri is really fussy. She even fusses sometimes when Dandelion holds her. He tries to comfort Yen, and ends up deciding the best thing to do is hold her and tell her that she's doing amazing. He doesn't think she believes him because she's still got a very somber look on her face the next day. She becomes reluctant to take up care of Ciri because of the incident. Well about after the third day of this Ciri gets fussy again. Geralt is taking a well deserved nap day. He's back in his room snoozing away. Yennefer and Dandelion are with Ciri in the library, one of the warmest places in the keep. Dandelion wipes his hands of the ink that stains them and picks her up and checks if she's soiled. She isn't, so he asks if she's hungry. She thrashes around in his hold and turns in search of Yennefer and starts grabbing towards her. So Dandelion hands her over to Yen. The moment Ciri's resting against Yennefer she settles down.
"huh, guess she just wanted her mommy." Dandelion comments and Yennefer starts crying. (Dandelion's face morphed from aww to OH FUCK)
The bigger Ciri gets the more rambunctious and energetic. Geralt couldn't be prouder that they're all raising her to be genuine to herself and that they've broken the generational trauma. Vesemir pats Geralt on the shoulder one day and tells him "I'm proud of you, Wolf" and damn, if that doesn't make him want to cry. He doesn't of course, only meeting Ciri made him cry from joy. And oh how she gives Lambert a run for his money. It's hilarious to see a 60-something year old argue with a 4 year old. They get into the most stupid arguments too. "blue is better than red!" Or "I'm taller than you" which is the most absurd because it's always Ciri who starts it. Geralt thinks it's because Lambert is the shortest besides Vesemir. But Vesemir has only become short due to his old age, and Ciri already gives him a hard time for that. ("Why are you so fat and old? Aren't you a Witcher like Daddy?" She said once and Vesemir just paused and looked at her like "why would you say that to me". She burst into a giggle fit at his crushed expression.)
The argument will always, without fail, go:
C: I'm taller than you.
L: no you're not? I'm 5'11!
C: well I'm 8 feet tall!!!!
L: more like 2 feet tall!
C: NO! SEE
Then she'll stand on the chair so she towers over Lambert.
L: fine well I'm older.
C: no??? My birthday is first
L: NO ITS NOT?
C: YEAH IT IS
L: NO APRIL IS BEFORE MAY. AND IM 67, YOU'RE 4
C: uhhhhh I hate to break it to you, but no you're not. You've been lied to your whole life.
L: W H AT WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE????
C: uhmmmmm god.
Then when Coën finally meets one of the Wolves and comes up to Kaer Morhen he's shocked to see someone so young. At the time Ciri was around 7. She calls him ugly and walks away to the stables. Coën is just left flabbergasted while Lambert and Eskel are laughing their asses off. Geralt apologizes to him, while trying to hold in his laughter. Coën becomes like an older brother to Ciri, and he gets on her good side by helping her prank Lambert.
When Ciri hits 12 she does get her period, and Geralt is like "OH GOD OH FUCK HOW DO I TALK TO HER ABOUT THIS I DONT WANT TO MAKE IT-" and Yennefer walks into the room and goes "I told her, we're good."
Then comes the "boy talk" Where Ciri brought up that a character in a romance book was attractive and Geralt went into "No one is good enough for my baby girl" dad mode and brashly announced "you're not allowed to date boys until you're 21."
Yennefer slaps him on the arm and Ciri looks at him almost offended.
"jokes on you I don't even know if I LIKE boys. Maybe I just like this character's personality." She replies sassily. Geralt cannot argue with that logic. (And yes 2 months later, she goes on a day trip with Yen and talks to a girl her age. She comes back and Geralt asks her how it went and she says "I definitely like girls." And walks up to her room to take a nap. Geralt celebrates as soon as she leaves "YES!!! I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT SOME BRUTE MESSING WITH MY DAUGHTER FUCK YEAH" Yennefer reminds him that some women are just as bad and he crumples to the floor in agony. Now he has to worry about brutish women hurting his daughter.)
Essentially, I just love that Geralt has a daughter, and that he's so proud of her and loves her so much. Their relationship is just so 🥹❤️ I adore them.
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winters-mistress · 1 month
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Cuddle pile
It's cold. It's so fucking cold that Ciri thinks she may honestly ask the gods to take her to the next world, because nothing can be as cold as this. She's got two pairs of leggings on, two pairs of socks, one of Geralt's tunics, her pair of gloves that Eskel had found for her, and she's buried underneath several blankets. Yet, she's so cold. She's so fucking cold.
The door opens, she can hear the squeak of the hinges. Footsteps come towards her, she can tell by the gait that it's Geralt, he's trying to be quiet, but he knows she's awake.
"Ciri?" she peaks out of her cocoon of blankets, one eye blinking up at him. His lip twitches, and he reaches towards her. "Cone here, it's too cold for you to be here alone. Especially with the fire refusing to catch."
She realises that the fireplace and the torches are dead. How many times has somebody came in and tried to warm her, only for the wind to blow it out?
Her thoughts distract her enough that Geralts breath upon her cheeks startle her, but she doesn't jump when his arks finally pick her up, blanket cocoon and all.
She makes a questioning noise, but never says no to Geralt giving her a hug. She's carried like a baby out of her room, out of the wing, down two flights of stairs, down another corridor, a third set of stairs, before they end up at the kitchens.
She makes a confused noise. It can't be breakfast time yet, the keep is pitch black to her puny human eyes.
"Why're we here?" she asks, rubbing her tired eyes.
"It's too cold, even for us. Gotta rest." Geralt says. Ciri blinks at him.
All in all, the witchers are good when it comes to her sleeping. When her nights are plagued with the horrors of her past and future, and she wakes up screaming with wet cheeks, the witchers let her sleep in whenever her rest finally turns peaceful and dark. They allow her afternoon naps after training and chores are done, and send her to bed when she stumbles into the dining hall with dark circles under her eyes. Early nights and late starts aren't punished, and as long as training and chores are completed at some point in the day, the witchers don't particularly care when it happens. Hell, shes been wrapped up like a baby by Lambert of all people when they had determined she needed a sleep.
Which is why it shouldn't be surprising when he turns the last corner and finds five Witchers laying a couple feet away from the cracking fireplace underneath the stew pot. They've got blankets and pillows and furs, and look rather comfortable. Laying all over each other, looking rather like a puppy pile. Even Aiden joins in with the snuggling.
"Pups." Vesemir rumbles when he sees them both. Geralt puts her on the floor, kneeling down next to her.
"Come here, girl, get comfortable. Gonna be making camp here for a couple'a days." Coën clarifies when he sees her confused face. Ciri blinks, but nods. These things make sense, and she's seen all the men here hug, but admittedly, this is the first cuddle pile she's been privy to.
She turns upon her side, feeling Geralt curl behind her, trapping her in with his arms, wrapping her in another blanket. She hums, wrapping her hand over his, before Eskel pulls them both close, and she smiles, closing her eyes, feeling the warmth seep into her.
And tonight, she will sleep sweetly indeed.
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penandinkprincess · 2 years
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a concept: witchers wearing out baby selkie!jask with tug of war
tiny baby seal growls and head thrashes, witchers holding on with LITERALLY zero effort. finally letting go and letting jaskier think he’s won. little seal bouncing around the room with his rope held up proudly, tripping over his flippers occasionally bc land movement is v hard already with baby limbs and made harder while trying to also hold a thing up and not trip on it, too. 
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Deserving Makes No Difference
I felt feelings and got really fucking annoyed with how people still hold vesemir up on a pedistal even tho hes big abusive but dont give the female characters the same respect. so i wrote something about it
big big thank you to @jaskierswolf for betaing, your comments bring me great joy
CW: past child abuse, realizing past child abuse, geralt sees too much of himself in ciri and has some realizations, some good trauma talks with the bestie past midnight, geralt is a cycle breaker and thats extremely sexy of him, jaskier is the friend we all need when we fall back on our trauma bonding.
also on ao3
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Training Ciri shouldn’t have been so hard. She was a fantastic student, pushed herself so hard that no one else needed to, and even enjoyed the work. No, she wasn’t what made training so hard on Geralt; it was the memories of his own training. 
He never thought about it after it was over, save muscle memory and the occasional story between the other wolves. But now that he had Ciri… the memories of belts and evenings without supper and wooden canes suddenly seemed horrific rather than a bonding memory with his cohort. He’d gone all these years thinking that was just the way it was, that he deserved it, that there was only one way to train an unruly and explosive little brat like himself. And every time he watched Ciri fumble and explode in nearly the same spot he had decades before, he flinched. No harm ever came to her, he made damn sure of it, but he was still prepared for a blow. 
After a few weeks of this realization, he told Ciri she would need to focus on controlling her chaos for the time being. 
“You said it yourself,I need to be able to protect myself. That making me better and faster and stronger is how you’ll protect me. How am I supposed to improve if I don’t train?”
The guilt trip almost worked, but Geralt needed a break, needed to think, “You can drill at the end of the day if Yennefer hasn’t completely drained you. But only if Cohen agrees to supervise.” 
Ciri scrutinized him before falling in step next to him toward their dinner, “Why not Lambert?” 
“He’s more childish than you,” Geralt snorted. 
“And Vesemir?”
Panic flooded Geralt as he did his best to keep his posture neutral, but every fiber of his being screamed not to let him near Ciri, “No.”
“Why not? He trained you. And Jaskier said he saw you cut through forty soldiers without breaking a sweat.”
Geralt took a deep breath and forced a smile, “Jaskier’s full of shit. Cohen only.”
Ciri rolled her eyes but muttered a begrudging, “Fine,” before splitting off to dig into dinner. 
When he mentioned the schedule shift to Yennefer, something sad and lonely crossed her features before she masked it with a surprisingly kind smile. He hadn’t expected her to take issue, but he was almost angry that she seemed… understanding? Empathetic?
“Must be harder for you,” Yennefer’s voice would sound condescending to someone who didn’t know her, but Geralt heard the melancholy edge, “I have no memories in this place and still it aches.”
All he could give her in response was a grimace and terse nod. 
It was slightly comforting knowing Yennefer was at least in a similar position, but she seemed just fine. The other wolves seemed just fine. Hell, he was the only one of them to take issue with anything they’d been through. From the trials to the disgusting way Vesemir mourned his lost ability to inflict the same soul-crushing pain on more innocent boys, Geralt seemed to be the only one concerned with the way anyone was handling, or better yet not handling anything. 
That night he sat on his bed, polishing his swords as he tried to wrap his mind around how he’d got there. 
Sometime after midnight, his door was shoved open by Jaskier holding a bottle of something far too strong for a human and managing to yell at him while still whispering, “Right. Put the perfectly sharp blade down before I use it on you. I swear to fuck if you scrape that whet stone more time, I’ll lose the one fucking marble I have left. And I need that one! It makes me money!” 
Stunned out of his meditation-like repetitive stupor, Geralt carefully set his things aside as Jaskier made himself at home on Geralt’s bed, “Didn’t know anyone could hear.” 
“Yes, well, these doors are shit, and I’m right across the hall,” Jaskier waved his hands as if Geralt should have caught on by now before uncorking the bottle and holding it toward Geralt, “What’s running round in that big boarish head of yours?” 
Geralt gave him a sad excuse for a smirk and took the bottle, staring at it as he whispered like he was giving some heinous confession, “I’m… I can’t imagine intentionally harming Ciri.”
Jaskier raised an eyebrow with an air of cautious optimism, “That’s good.”
He didn’t understand. Not that Geralt should expect him to, but they hadn’t spent as much time together recently. It used to be easier to talk like this with Jaskier, the bard was able to put together the broken fragments of a sentence Grealt couldn’t bear to say aloud much faster when they’d been attached at the hip. 
Frowning as he took a pull from the bottle, Geralt slowly dug the words out from where he’d buried them long ago, “But no one thought twice about beating or starving us… for the same mistakes she makes. She’s just scared…” Geralt took a deep breath and slowly forced it out, sneaking the words in on his exhale as if his pride and fear wouldn’t notice that way, “We were just scared…” 
For a long time, neither of them said a word; they both just stared at the bottle in Geralt’s hand. The air was thick and breathing too deeply felt dangerous somehow, like a sigh could break watever fragile balance they’d set up. Geralt’s mind raced, as it had been all night, reminding him of horror story after horror story that had been so normalized he and his fellow wolves had laughed as they exchanged them over meals. They almost made him sick as he imagined any of those words coming out of Ciri’s mouth. 
Finally, Jaskier spoke up, his voice soft and careful, “Is that why she’s training with Yen more?”
Geralt found himself nodding before he realized, an odd tightness behind his eyes and in the back of his throat, “It made sense before. We were nightmares, but Ciri can be worse, and I couldn’t dream…”
“You didn’t deserve it either,” Jaskier reminded him, taking the bottle from his hand and taking a conservative swig before cris-crossing his legs.
“Deserving and not deserving makes no difference. Shit still happens.” Geralt grumbled, reciting a line he’d rehearsed plenty of times before, only now it felt hollow. He didn’t believe it anymore, and he didn’t know what to do about it. 
The soft, almost proud smile Jaskier wore when Geralt risked a glance toward him was confusing, but the bard’s words were far worse, “We finally tricked you into giving a fuck about yourself,” When Geralt frowned harder at him, Jaskier continued, “Hell, Geralt, you called yourself a tool- no! Weapon when I first met you. It has taken decades to humanize you to yourself. Decades and a daughter apparently…” he trailed off with a shrug and another sip from the bottle. 
“I thought I was a selfish twit,” Geralt huffed, reaching for the bottle before bringing one foot onto the bed to rest his elbow on his knee. He didn’t think Jaskier was wrong, but he didn’t want to accept it either. Too much about how he moved through the world would change. 
“You are,” Jaskier smiled, giving a fervent nod, “You’ve great range.”
Rolling his eyes, Geralt couldn’t stop the tired smile spreading on his face, “Don’t sign me up to give a monologue.”
“Now that I have the idea…” Jaskier gave him a mischievous wiggle of his eyebrows and dodged a light backhand to his shoulder.
The liquor was starting to do its job, Geralt's limbs feeling heavier and his mind foggier. He took another long bubbling pull from the bottle before setting it on the floor, Jaskier giving a sigh of relief. It was a satisfying enough explanation for why the training grounds bothered him all of the sudden, but as he stared at a hole in the hem of Jaskier’s trousers, something kept eating at him. 
“I can't trust the people I called family,” the whispered words were out before he realized he’d spoken. Something in him calcified and died as he said it. He’d been thinking it for weeks, especially since Vesemir’s latest stunt, but it felt final, speaking the fact into existence. 
Geralt could just barely see Jaskier nodding his head as he spoke, “Me neither. Rotten, isn’t it?” 
“Fucking brutal.”
“Yup,” Jaskier popped the ‘p’ and rested his chin in his hand, staring at the same hole Geralt had been staring at, “What are you going to do about it?”
The question pulled Geralt up short, “The fuck can I do?”
It had been a long time since Jaskier looked at him like he was a fucking idiot, but it still had the same effect, “Tell them? Ruin their week? Lay down rules?” As he made his list, Jaskier shuffled till he was laying diagonally across the bed with his head on the pillows and somehow he still had the effect of making Geralt feel like a dimwit, “For fuck’s sake, Geralt, that's your daughter. You focus so hard on protecting her from armies and monsters, don’t forget about your own family just because no one else has given a fuck all these years.” 
“They wouldn’t starve-”
“You just said you can’t trust them. Why defend them?” Jaskier was staring him down with a challenge in his eyes and Geralt couldn’t argue with the logic. 
 Sliding his hand down his shin and resting his chin on his knee like he did when he was a boy, Geralt closed his eyes and whispered, “We were raised to need him. It’s a shitty habit.”
“I know,” Jaskier let out a long sorrowful sigh that reminded Geralt he really did know, “Maybe talk to Lambert first?”
Geralt shook his head and felt a little dizzy for it, letting himself plop over onto his side so he was curled into the little triangle of space Jaskier had left him, “He’s too angry. Probably accuse me of mutiny… Eskel would have understood.”
Jaskier’s hand flopped to his side and clumsily found its way to comb through Geralt’s hair, “Yeah?”
“You would have liked him,” Geralt mused, again feeling that enraging sting behind his eyes, “He’d have already torn into Vesemir. Was always ready for a fight…” 
Voice softer, almost like he was singing a lullaby, Jaskier hummed, “I probably would have.”
For a moment Geralt thought he’d be okay, he thought he could tell Jaskier just how betrayed he felt by the people he thought he could trust the most. How Vesemir was supposed to protect him and how he’d broken the promises he made when Geralt was too little to understand he couldn’t keep them. But all that came out were soft stuttering breaths and tears rolling down his face. 
Continuing to run his fingers through Geralt’s hair, Jaskier whispered, “Let’s sleep. You’ve done enough thinking for one night.”
Geralt sniffed and raised his head with an embarrassed grimace and nodded. Instead of a pillow, Geralt laid his head on Jaskier’s stomach, letting the bard’s slow and rhythmic breathing in tandem with the steady thrum of liquor in his veins lull him to sleep even if he dreaded the morning. 
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shy-urban-hobbit · 4 months
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Modern au - Vesemir royally screws up by driving Aiden away.
“Aiden.”
“I’m sorry Lambert. Please believe me I am so fucking sorry, but I can’t keep on like this and I’m not going to be the boyfriend who makes you choose between me or your family.”
“So your making the choice for me. Real fucking nice.”
Aiden gave him a sad, teary smile as he threw his duffel bag into the trunk of his beat up, third hand car, “Your family’s everything to you, Pup. Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t regret cutting ties with any of them.”
“You’re family too!”
“It’s been made pretty clear time and again that I’m not and never will be as far as certain people are concerned. I love you Lambert, but there’s only so many times I can take being made to feel like some lowlife criminal every time I interact with your dad.”
Lambert felt his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth when he realised that he couldn’t even argue that. As he had when he and Lambert had first started dating, Aiden had been upfront about the shit he’d been involved with when he was younger and new to trying to fend for himself after ageing out of the system when the conversation at their first meeting had turned towards questions about his family and childhood. Ever since, Vesemir had taken every opportunity to weaponise it against the younger man - despite the fact that Aiden’s life could very well have been that of any of his own sons had fate played out differently. Lambert, Geralt and Eskel had been some of the lucky ones in the Care Kid Lottery. Aiden, not so much.
Every time, Lambert had asked him to give Vesemir another chance, promising it would be different this time (it had taken him awhile to warm up to Jaskier too, and he was a god damn ray of sunshine) and every time, Vesemir had made him a liar.
Aiden moved his arms awkwardly, looking like he was trying to decide if going in for a hug would be a wise idea until a couple of tears finally fell. He wiped them away hastily as he stepped back, opening the driver’s side door, “Goodbye, Lambert. I wish you every happiness.”
Lambert could only stand and stare as his every happiness drove away down the dirt track.
He heard the front door creak open followed by multiple pairs of footsteps, because of course they couldn’t even let him get his heart stomped on in private – they’d probably all had their noses pressed to the kitchen window. Jaskier was stood shoulder to shoulder with Geralt, looking like he was making a huge effort not to start crying himself while his brother was grim faced. Eskel strode towards him, giving him the same heartbroken look as he had when Lambert was newly seven and had casually informed them he’d never gotten birthday presents before.
“Shit, Lambert.”
He went to pull him into a hug which Lambert immediately ducked away from, “Don’t Esk. Just...fucking don’t .” He pleaded, voice breaking as he stomped back towards the house, jabbing a finger at Vesemir with a snarl as he did so. The old man had yet to react to anything that had just transpired, despite being the cause.
“I am never going to forgive you for this.”
Vesemir sat hunched over in his customary chair by the fireside, elbows resting on his knees as he stared into the tumbler of vodka he’d been nursing as his little granddaughter, Ciri, busied herself making popcorn garlands at the table. It had been over a month and he’d yet to hear anything directly from Lambert no matter how many times he tried to call or how many texts he sent, with any necessary replies being sent to him through either one of his brothers or Jaskier.
He turned when he heard someone clearing their throat pointedly.
Speak of the devil.
Jaskier stood slightly awkwardly, eyes darting between the man and the girl, “Ciri, why don’t you go see how your uncle and dad are doing untangling those lights?” It was flimsy at best but Ciri didn’t seem to notice as she darted off, too caught up in the excitement of Christmas preparations.
Vesemir held the bottle out to Jaskier in a silent offering as he took the chair opposite, “He said he’ll come, but only for Ciri.”
Vesemir sighed through his nose. That was about what he’d expected, “How is he?”
Jaskier bit his lip, “No change really. He still misses him and I...”
Vesemir raised a bushy eyebrow expectantly as he waited for Jaskier to carry on.
“I don’t think that’s going to stop any time soon.”
Vesemir shook his head, “Why does that boy have to be so stubborn? I tried my damn hardest to stop them all from heading down that path and then he goes and throws himself head first.”
“Sir?”
Vesemir downed the rest of his drink, “Do you know how many people see those in the system as easy targets for criminal activity? They purposefully prey on kids who are lonely, desperate for acceptance.”
“Kids like Aiden?”
Vesemir looked up sharply, Jaskier looked for all the world like he hadn’t intended for that to slip out. He took a deep breath before continuing, “With respect, while I think it’s incredibly sweet you’re still looking out for them, Lambert’s a grown man now and Aiden’s had no issues with the law for the last decade or so.”
“That still doesn’t mean he’s good enough for my son!”
Jaskier held up a finger as he started tapping away on his phone, “I remember you thinking the same about me at one point.”
“And what made me change my mind about you?”
“I think the fact that I wasn’t Yennefer turned things in my favour in the end. I don’t know if it’ll change anything but, perhaps you should look at this. Please.”
Lambert took the proffered phone. It was a candid picture of Aiden and Lambert, sometime late in the summer from the looks of it. They were stood in each others arms, smiling softly and looking absolutely besotted, their heads so close together their foreheads were touching and seemingly oblivious to everything else happening around them. Was this how they’d been when he wasn’t around?Vesemir felt his chest clench as he recognised the look in the picture, it was one that had passed between himself and Luka too many times to count before...
Good God, what had he done?
Vesemir knocked smartly on the black painted door for the third time. The apartment building was nicer than he’d expected and he instantly felt shame at his assumption that Aiden would be living in some rat infested hovel. He heard the click of a lock and inwardly winced at the sight that greeted him. Aiden eyes were sunken and puffy, as if he’d been crying himself to sleep before falling victim to insomnia, his clothes were dishevelled and Vesemir found himself wondering when the last time was he’d eaten a proper meal. Nevertheless, he drew his shoulders back and met Vesemir’s eye, even if he did have a death grip on the door knob.
“Jaskier gave me your address. Can we please talk?”
Christmas Eve came around far too quickly as far as Lambert was concerned. He couldn’t deny he was looking forward to seeing his niece and brothers but the thought of long periods of time with Vesemir right now was already mentally exhausting him. He grit his teeth as he threw the last of his things into his overnight bag, it would be fine. It was just two days, and if he needed a distraction God knew Geralt wouldn’t be able to assemble and find correct batteries for all of Ciri’s new toys single handed. It was just two days. He could do this.
Lambert sent up a prayer of thanks that Vesemir wasn’t there when he arrived in the late afternoon, Geralt informing him that he’d just gone out to grab some last minute things and had instructed them to make a start on preparing dinner.
Dark had well and truly fallen, the food was almost ready and Geralt was half threatening Ciri, Jaskier and Eskel with coal in their stockings if they sang ‘grandma got run over by a reindeer ‘ one more time (Lambert might have been partly responsible for that and had zero regrets) when the tell tale beams of car headlights flashed through the kitchen window followed by Vesemir elbowing his way through the door, a neatly wrapped present under each arm.
“Seriously dad?” Geralt sighed, “Ciri’s going to be getting enough from Santa tomorrow without you adding to it.”
“Why should Santa get to spoil my granddaughter? Lambert, there’s one more back in the car. Run and grab it please.”
Lambert rolled his eyes but conceded at Geralt’s ‘Don’t start’ look.
“Happy Christmas, Pup.”
The smallest breath of wind could’ve knocked him over at that moment. Aiden was leaning against the side of the car, arms crossed as he smiled shakily at Lambert, “Vesemir came to see me and we talked. Really talked. He apologised and promised I’m welcome here from now on. If you want me here, that is.”
Lambert all but ran to him before sweeping him up in his arms and into a desperate kiss which Aiden eagerly returned, clinging to him.
“I missed you so fucking much.”
“I missed you too, you have no idea how happy I am right now. Mainly because Vesemir was my ride so, kinda would have made for a very awkward Christmas if you’d said no.”
Lambert yanked Aiden’s hood down over his eyes with a laugh, “Dork.”
Jaskier had let out a whoop of delight when Lambert led Aiden into the house, followed by Lambert and Vesemir sharing a brief bear hug in silent apology and the start of forgiveness and when they weren’t eating, Aiden’s hand was firmly wrapped in his.It was perfect.
“Aiden?” Ciri piped up from opposite him, all wide eyed innocence, “Do you know grandma got run over by a reindeer?”
Aiden quickly took in the smothered laugh from Eskel, Geralt’s eyes turned heavenward, and flashed Lambert that impish grin he loved so much, “You know Ciri, I’m not sure I do. Remind me, how does it go?”
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solcorvidae · 3 months
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Modern Witcher AU: My Headcanons (part 4)
Jaskier’s full legal name is Julian Alfred Pankratz. His parents have called him Jaskier since he was a baby and it stuck. He is their little buttercup to this day. Jaskier will not respond to ‘Julian’ unless it is painfully obvious it’s him who’s being spoken to. Jaskier has never truly been ‘Julian’ but for whatever reason his parents never got his name legally changed. He has lived his whole life as Jaskier despite his paperwork, ID, passport, and medications all having PANKRATZ, Julian Alfred written on them. He will probably never do it himself either, leaving him stuck with a legal name he has never gone by.
Jaskier sizes down his base layer clothes to be slim-fitting and Geralt sizes up. They very easy could share most clothes (both ways) with no issue if they both wore clothes that actually fit how they are supposed to. However, since they don't, they run the risk of having Jaskier's T-shirts becoming stretched out.
Jaskier sticks to stealing Geralt's clothes. Geralt lets him.
Cats loathe Aiden. (Yes, he will be appearing at some point.)
Eskel’s voice carries through walls even when he is speaking quietly. It can be felt more than heard because it emanates so strongly from his chest.
Jaskier can do a scarily accurate impression of Geralt and can easily fool people over the CB radio.
Jaskier was a loud kid. Like the type of kid that will go up to a stranger, basically yell “DO YOU LIKE MY SHOES?” and then start aggressively stomping around in his light-up sketchers.
Jaskier’s family was initially unsure of Geralt when they first met. It only took twenty minutes for his mom and dad to decide they adored him. They think that he is the most polite young man and a pleasure to be around. They spend hours talking (having a friendly and enthusiastic interrogation) with him, asking Geralt a billion questions about himself and his relationship with their son… how they met, what they’ve been up to, where Geralt is from, etc. Geralt is overwhelmed but feels welcomed by the end of the night, no longer feeling the judgement boring into the back of his skull like he did when he’d first arrived.
Jaskier’s mom has plenty of embarrassing scrapbook photos of him throughout his life. Geralt half-jokingly asks to see them and she shows him every single one. Jaskier groans and hides behind his hands the whole time but finds the scene in front of him endearing… so he tolerates it.
Eskel makes tea for people. People he loves, people he’s comforting, his friends, his family, his lover, strangers, people who he’s just meeting for the first time… there’s tea for every occasion.
While Geralt’s creative outlet is painting, Eskel crochets. He makes his friends and family warm clothes to bundle up in during the winter months. He sews a custom made tag into each of his pieces. The tag reads: ‘Handmade with Love by Eskel Bellegarde’
Vesemir has three giant boxes of all the boys’ school work, projects, and art work. He vows to never get rid of any of it.
Vesemir drinks his morning coffee from a mug that is practically illegible at this point but had once upon a time said “World’s Best Dad!” across the front.
Geralt knows how to ride a motorcycle... he just doesn’t have one anymore. He bought a used one for a wicked deal in highschool but sold it for his old pickup when he realized how impractical it was only a few years later. He will probably let his license expire because he can’t be arsed to retake the test.
Geralt walks on his toes. His heels hardly ever touch the ground unless he is wearing supportive shoes. He walks near-silently when donning bare-feet or socks. However, he walks heel-to-toe when he wears his boots. He has custom insoles to prevent knee pain and the shoes really do help his aches and pains... but he can be heard for miles--especially when wearing his favourite cowboy boots. Think: a set of heels on an office building floor.
Lambert gets sympathy pains and feels ill when his loved ones are in pain or sick. This, along with the guilt he feels causes him to isolate and distance himself from them when he is not needed/wanted in the room. He is still very present and loving when he is around (even more than he usually is) but he feels tremendous guilt that leads him to spend far more time in his room/at a friends house than usual.
[Modern AU Headcanon Masterpost]
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lassieposting · 1 year
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God though, reluctant single dad Vesemir. Vesemir who openly dislikes children, Vesemir who leaves a kid in the woods with the remains of his dead family even though he knows there's something else out there, Vesemir who refers to baby witchers as "abandoned little tragedies", Vesemir whose response to being told he's to teach them to fence is "Am I being punished?"
And suddenly he's the last wolf left. His whole pack is dead and he's got a litter of already-mutated pups to look after that won't get taken in anywhere else. He's completely responsible for the next generation, and children need so many things. He has to learn on the fly that it's not just feeding them and clothing them and teaching them to fight. It's getting up every night for Geralt's night terrors about the Trial and the Sacking, because he's five and he doesn't know how to self-soothe and nobody else is going to do it. It's watching Lambert hurt himself and the other boys in his rages, because he's so mad at the hand life dealt him and he doesn't know how to handle it, and having to figure out how to teach him to channel his anger some other way because that kind of blind fury will get him killed. It's answering a thousand and one "But why?" questions without putting a sword through Eskel because he wants to be good and that is a quality that needs nurturing even if it's annoying as fuck.
None of this is natural to him. He's not a kid person. He's grieving, too, for everyone he ever cared for and the trust he gave his father figure who betrayed him. He's sarcastic and impatient and he fucks up badly, so many times, with these lonely, traumatised little boys. He has to learn to apologise, and forgive, and love them even though he never wanted them to be his responsibility, even though they've basically taken his life from him - the adventuring, the monster-slaying, the coin and the women and the fame - because raising brats is a 24/7/365 job that keeps him tied to Kaer Morhen. He has to learn not to resent them for a life they didn't choose. He has to learn to make them feel like part of a family, because he can't afford to have them abandon Witchering at the first opportunity.
And somehow, it works. His pups grow up, and become Witchers themselves, and he sends them out into the world and breathes a sigh of relief every time one comes back safe. Grieves as best he can whenever one doesn't. Geralt makes him a grandfather, which is not something he ever thought he'd want even with a Witcher's long lifespan, but he loves the bones of that girl. He sees Geralt trying so hard to do better by Ciri than was ever done by him - he's not sure where the hell Geralt got that from, that soft streak that training never quite beat out of him - and the other boys rally round to help him raise his lion cub as a wolf so much faster than he thought they would, and he knows he did something right. And more than that, he's somehow managed to do away with some of the stigma the generations of Witchers before him passed down. Geralt isn't afraid to be gentle with Ciri. He's kind and understanding and supportive towards her, he has to be reminded not to prioritise her wellbeing over finding Leshen!Eskel, he's calm and patient and comforting when her trauma is playing up. It's such a far cry from the completely detached, "numbers game" attitude of the generations before Vesemir, and even from Vesemir's own attitude towards recruits as a young man. He's done exactly what his mentor asked him to do. He raised better, more scrupulous Witchers. He raised better men.
idk man I just have a lot of feelings about Vesemir after NOTW okay
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the-butch-of-blaviken · 4 months
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ok, so. Long overdue Lambert post
I've been thinking about Lambert as a dad, or rather not exactly as a dad but responsible for a small child that primarily depends on him (as opposed to Ciri for whom he could be the fun uncle since Geralt was responsible for all the dad stuff)
I realize this may not be anyone's cup of tea, but what's fun about blorbos is you get to put them in situations they would never logically find themselves in and think hard about how that would work, right? So, why is it compelling to me personally:
as with most things, he can't avoid comparing himself to his brothers' respective experiences with fatherhood: Geralt as the ultimate dad of a princess/literal hero of a prophecy who literally travels across the world and an active war zone to rescue her, and Eskel as the brother who ignored his destiny for as long as he could until it came back to almost literally bite him in the ass
like i said before, he doesn't want anything to do with fatherhood; in fact, i believe he carefully avoids using the law of surprise to avoid finding himself in this very situation among other things. He doesn't believe in destiny (or at least, he doesn't believe in destiny having anything good in store for him) but after what happened to Geralt, who claimed he didn't believe in it either, you can't blame him for being paranoid
plus all of his available father figures range from shitty to extremely shitty, to the point where he's terrified that his very blood might be tainted and that he might be physically incapable of not reproducing what has been done to him
if he ends up caring for a child, it'd be in spite of himself; it would have to be an accident he would have no choice but to go along with, not primarily for the child's sake (that’ll come later) but mainly because he has no way out of it. So he has to be tricked into caring for the child (rubbing my little writer's hands together)
imagine the influence on his character development?? The healing process. The growth. This child embodies a sort of second chance by proxy: back when he was a kid, all of his choices were made for him, so he's going to make it so that this child can choose for themselves what they want (and, as a consequence, i believe he wouldn't tell anyone about them, especially not his brothers. He doesn't trust them not to get any ideas about feeding the child homegrown mushrooms like they did to Ciri)
also, i don't think he would consider himself to be the child's father, more like their caretaker or something equivalent. In fact, i believe being called "dad" is the best way of making him run away as fast as possible, being father is fundamentally associated to something negative in his mind. So he'd be there – he'd watch over the child and worry for them and teach them how to defend themselves, but he'd categorically object to being called anything close to "dad." (maybe it would also be an opportunity to establish a more horizontal relationship between him and his ward, as oppposed to the traditionally more vertical relationship between a parent and their child? Because he's so averse to authority, he'd probably hate representing that very notion in anyone's eyes, especially someone so vulnerable)
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valdomarx · 1 year
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How do you feel about Regis and Geralt. In other news, I have finished the Blood & Wine DLC and have a new favorite character
oh boy do i ever love those old men. they have the exact energy of two tired dads at the playground lovingly giving their kids thumbs ups as said kids run full pelt into concrete walls. (the kids in this case are ciri, dandelion, and zoltan.)
perhaps my favourite thing about geralt and regis is how inexplicably tender they are with each other??? you might think they'd be jaded or angry or suspicious of the other - they are, after all, on the surface a monster and a monster hunter - but no!! from the moment they meet they're so kind and careful with each other. gives me an aneurysm.
also something about regis (again, an actual monster as per witcher lore) being the one who geralt truly trusts? the one who geralt lets his guard down around? lays bare his soul and talks about how he really feels about himself, and his life as a witcher, and the choices that were made for him? topics he doesn't even dare broach with eskel or lambert or vesemir? but he'll share with regis??? knowing that he won't be judged??? but will be understood and treated with compassion????
and regis does the same talking about his blood addiction, with apparently zero concern that geralt might misunderstand him or find him a threat? they just really look out for each other and want the best for each other? unconditional support and kindness????
CDPR give the people what they want challenge. it's still not too late to make regis romanceable.
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thethumpergod · 5 months
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Camp trip! (Lambert X Aiden modern AU)
Gathering all the supplies, they headed off to a clearing in the woods. Their boots shuffled through the grass, and as they went, more sounds of nature could be heard. Aiden could make out squirrels chattering, leaves crunching, birds singing, insects churring, and the rustling of bushes. Ferns fanned out beautifully, accompanying the dense trees along the unpaved path. Aiden does his best not to get distracted while carrying the sizable cooler with Lambert. Lil' Bleater kept getting too close to Aiden, trying to nibble on his shirt while he wasn't looking. Eskel had to move her away often, but his shirt had little goat-teeth marks anyway.
"It's a tradition at this point," Lambert says with a sly expression.
"It was yours anyway," Aiden retorted. It was a lie, but Lambert still scrunched his face.
Once they reach the halfway point, the sun begins going down. Jaskier endeavored to find words that rhyme with silver with Ciri, but he accidentally put his rhyme scheme in a corner. Their freestyle song turned into an awkward pause, and Geralt did his best to repress his grin. All the white-haired brother could do was readjust the strap of Ciri's backpack to fit around his buff shoulder.
"Maybe liver? No, that doesn't sound right," Jaskier mused.
"Chilver!" Ciri beams.
"Oh, yes! Chilver," the musician continues with his song.
Eskel had to roll a fallen tree with Geralt out of the way of the merry crew. The blizzard that came this year killed the weaker trees in the forest.
They reached another stopping point to trade off duties. It was Lambert's turn to be on Ciri duty; Jaskier and Eskel carried over the cooler. Aiden lost track of what Jaskier was talking about at this point; it was like white noise now. Ciri watched birds hop around in a bush. Aiden had joined her in staring.
"Wanna freak out Uncle Lambert?" She spoke in a hushed tone.
"Yes." A wicked smile develops on Aiden's face.
Ciri reached out to the bushes, scaring away the birds. A Grand-Daddy Long-Legs was sheltered in the underbrush, using the leaves as a hiding spot. "You won't hurt them, right?" she says as she freezes.
"No, I swear," Aiden says, nodding.
"Here, they don't bite." She puts the spider in Aiden's hand. He let it travel the length of his lower arm, coaching it to the other hand when it tried to move too far up.
"What are you doing?" Lambert walked over to get a look. "Eck! Put that down, you fucker." Lambert shrinks away
Aiden watches the spider dance on his fingers. "I think it's neat."
"Ewww," groans the shorter man.
Aiden decides to put him in a bush free of birds, and it disappears into the woodland. Lambert leers at him from afar, barely concealed behind Geralt. "Wait till he learns Cat likes eating spiders."
"He fucking what?" Lambert makes a disgusted face.
They stop in their tracks as they leave the tree line. Finally, they reached the lake when the sun was almost gone. Geralt's hands felt along the rough tree bark, his fingers memorizing the texture.
The sun had gone down by now, causing a lovely warm gradient. The lake glimmered beautifully in the remaining light, its mass spanning from the muddy shore to a small island. Gentle sounds of nature keep them company; no wonder why Geralt liked this. The sun-kissed Aiden's skin felt fine in the heat, despite the uncomfortable sweat forming.
"I'll bring the packs over, then get you," Eskel said.
Eskel and Jaskier placed the cooler in the boat and rested on the shore. Lil' Bleater hopped in the boat without hesitation, a real ride-or-die goat. From what Lambert stated about how well Lil' Bleater is taken care of, it made sense.
Ciri was preoccupied with identifying the ducks on the lake's surface. Her dad waited patiently for her answer.
Ciri looked over to Geralt and then said, "Mallard?"
Geralt nods and says, "Good job, cub."
It's nice to see such a good father. Aiden leaned against a tree, observing the wholesome scene.
"Checking out my brother?" Lambert rolls his eyes.
"Jealous, hm?" Aiden pokes the tip of his nose. "Don't worry, you'll get my attention."
Lambert scrunches his nose, shooing his finger away.
"This place is beautiful, habibi," Aiden laughs, allowing Lambert to take up the free space beside him.
Lambert hums, tilting slightly toward him. "Yeah, hopefully, a boat doesn't tip over this year."
Geralt turned to look over at Lambert, giving him the driest look possible.
"It was an accident," Lambert huffed. Aiden wasn't sure what that meant, but there was definitely a story there.
Aiden bites his lip before saying, "Lamb, there's something I should tell you."
"What?"
"I can't swim."
"You can't swim."
"Nope." Aiden had an uneasy smile.
"No one taught you?"
"Nope."
"Well, you're in luck. Lambert was actually on the swim team in high school. He is damn good at it too," Geralt said, walking with Ciri from the shore.
Sweet gods, apparently he was dating a man with a million talents. "Oh~, I have a handsome lifeguard as my boyfriend," Aiden coos.
Jaskier snorts at that, breaking Geralt's composure.
Once Eskel returned with the other boat in tow, the others got a move on. Ciri was helped into the boat by Eskel. Aiden nervously looked at the boat he was expected to get in, he was sure Lambert wouldn't drown him on purpose.
"Relax, Kitten. You'll be fine," Lambert said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Geralt and Jaskier were boarding the other boat; Jaskier made a surprised expression at the nickname, then quickly went back to the task at hand.
"Don't be worried. I'm sure Lambert doesn't wanna lose you. Where would he find another free chef?" Eskel kids.
With impressive aim, Lambert hit Eskel square on the forehead with his reusable plastic water bottle. Eskel chuckles, taking it like a champ.
He'll have to challenge Lambert to knife throwing sometime, and possibly have competition aside from Gaetan.
"Maybe Lambert can teach you to swim?" Ciri added. She peeks over at the man in question.
Aiden sensed his embarrassment returning.
Lambert snorts, "That sounds like a wonderful idea."
The tanner man stopped him from shrinking into himself. Hopefully, Lambert won't try to get him back for the spider thing. The men were left on the dock to wait for Eskel. Lambert looked over at him before reaching out to hold Aiden's hand. Even at that dinner, Lambert was anxious about showing him love in front of his family. He knows by now that it's not because he's ashamed of being with a man. This was something he was trained to hide, much like Aiden himself.
The taller man locked his hand firmly around Lambert's, both staring into the lake.
"Thanks for coming here, Aiden."
Aiden brings him closer, kissing him. "Sorry about being late, work got in the way... And I was worried."
"Worried?"
"I want your family to like me, I know how much this means to you."
Lambert sets a hand on the back of his neck, dragging him down to kiss again. "Trust me, if they didn't like you, you would know already."
They lost track of time sitting on the dock edge, snuggling up to each other.
"Love birds, I'm back," Eskel called, rowing towards them.
Aiden practically fell on his side as Lambert moved off him.
"Fucking finally," Lambert huffed, still flushed.
"Yeah, yeah. Get on the boat!" Eskel rolled his eyes.
Aiden, with a large sigh, stepped onto the boat. Lambert sat where the oars were placed.
Aiden was sure he looked skittish as all hell right now.
As the boats started moving, he used all his willpower not to death-grip the side. All his suaveness left his body once he stepped aboard.
Lambert removed his sweaty shirt and tossed it into the space between them before beginning to row.
"Trying to distract me?" Aiden shakily jokes.
"Is it working?" Lambert grins.
Eskel ignores the sappiness, more interested in observing the current move. Lambert rows in a steady rhythm, trying to make the trip quick without terrorizing Aiden.
"Definitely makes it better," Aiden said, eyeing his biceps moving in rotations.
He wouldn't stop messing with his hair, and truth be told, he'd been nervous about this trip for two days now. Lambert keeps his focus on paddling. Why did Eskel have to say something about drowning?
"You like birds, do you?" Lambert broke the silence.
It was more of a weird fascination about them for Aiden. "Uh, yes?"
"Look beside you," Lambert says, pointing to the left side of the boat.
There was a flock of ducks on the lake, most of which weren't swimming. Aiden eyed them for a long time and asked, "Why aren't they moving?"
"They're asleep."
"They sleep on the water?"
"You have a whole book in your apartment about ornithology. How do you not know?"
Aiden huffed defensively, "I don't read half the books Coen gives me!"
"Then why do you keep accepting them?"
"I want to be polite!"
They continued their meaningless argument until Aiden let out a dramatic sigh. He went back to watching the ducks, a cheeky smile on his face. Lambert swallowed whatever he was going to say since he didn't have his boyfriend's full attention. Eskel silently chuckled at the ridiculousness of the two. Aiden's anxiety was still there, but it had eased a great deal. He didn't think babbling would be such a useful distraction.
They reached the dock soon, to Aiden's relief. He gripped onto Eskel a bit too hard when being helped out of the boat.
"See, you're alive, and you didn't piss yourself," Lambert snorts from the boat.
"You don't have your phone, do you?" Aiden says, twitching his lips.
"Nah, I gave it to Eskel." The paler man raised an eyebrow before realization crashed on him.
Aiden beams over at Eskel, who seems to be on board with him. The two grabbed the side of the boat facing them, lifting it as Lambert cursed.
Lambert wobbled off the boat into the lake. It takes a second for his head to pop out of the water with a scowl.
Aiden didn't account for how fast Lambert could swim or that they were a few feet from the shore.
Now a soaking wet Lambert was rushing toward land. Aiden turns on his feet, running in the direction of the cabin's backyard. His boyfriend may be one hell of a swimmer, but Aiden knows how to run like his life depends on it. Lambert ignored Eskel in favor of chasing him around the house. The others were staring at them as Aiden made his fourth lap around the house. He was so caught up in running forward that he didn't realize Lambert had turned to run the opposite way. He soon found himself staring right at Lambert as he hooked another corner.
"Got ya!" Lambert shouted. Aiden didn't have enough time to dodge being picked up by his waist. "Now, what to do with you?"
Aiden was amazed that he could lift him so easily, given how tall he was. "I have ideas," he hums, wrapping his legs around Lambert.
"You don't while Ciri is here," Geralt says from across the yard.
"Later, I guess." Aiden chooses before Lambert releases him.
After overseeing the two act like idiots, everyone went back to setting up camp for the night.
The night breeze hit Lambert's wet form, making him shiver. He marched to his suitcase, retrieving some clothes. "I'm going to shower and change," he says to the group, then captures Aiden's hand.
"No ideas," Geralt reminds him as he fishes his keys out of his pocket. Tossing the keys to Lambert, he drags the leaner man behind him.
They stepped through the front door, leading into the living room. Lambert hits the lights before marching any further. The place was simple, with neutral walls and no accent colors. Even with its lack of pigment, it was carefully made to be comfortable.
There was a rather cozy couch, and by looking at the blanket, you could tell it was soft.
Lambert pulled Aiden away from eyeing Geralt's home decorating skills to take him to the hall bathroom.
"Why didn't you ask your brothers to decorate your place?" Aiden wonders.
"I didn't care what it looked like until you showed up," Lambert retorts while using a towel to collect the water dripping on the floor.
Aiden made a contemplative sound before obtaining a rag to wipe the grime off himself.
He knew this could be nothing, but he couldn't help but think those words meant more. He didn't magically solve Lambert's problems; that was never his goal. He wanted to be there for him in the same way his family was there for him.
(author's note: Habibi means my love or my dear)
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clown-of-rivia · 1 year
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Witcher Modern AU concept
Childhood sweethearts Eskel and Geralt broke up when they left the marines. Geralt wanted to leave behind all the horrors they've seen, even if that meant leaving Eskel behind.
Geralt was set on living a 'normal' life. He worked as a mechanics and 1 year later met Yen and got married. Eskel didnt attend the wedding. Lambert barely looked at him.
Years later Ciri is gushing to her now single dad about how she is going to one day marry her art teacher.
After months of Ciri's dramatics Geralt agrees to meet the teacher only to stand in front of Eskel. Eskel who politely pretended they didnt know each other.
That night
Ciri: I love mister Eskel. I'm gonna marry him one day
Geralt: I used to say the same when I was your age
Geralt cant stop thinking of Eskel, of what couldve been if he hadn't been so stupid and left the love of his life. He keeps picking Ciri up early to see Eskel, who politely avoids him.
One day Geralt goes to Eskel's class but its empty. So he looks around while waiting.
In the back is a small storage room turned studio. It's clear Eskel uses it for his own art. Geralt shouldn't, but he takes a closer look. In a large sketchbook he finds dozens of sketches of himself. As a kid, a man, a soldier, a dad, a groom. Sleeping, playing, laughing, crying. Him at his best, his happiest, his most broken.
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kueble · 1 year
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The Sweetest Thing
This was written for the @witchertrickortreat prompt: Fall.  It’s part of my Spider Plant AU.
Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 words.
Jaskier/Eskel
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The sun is shining brightly, but there’s a cool edge to the breeze, and Jaskier lets the cuffs of his oversized sweater slip over his hands.  Eskel must notice, because he reaches over and laces their fingers together, warming him up nicely.  Jaskier smiles at him, but manages to keep quiet and pretend to be listening to the lovely farm worker explaining the rules to the small group at the welcome stand.  He should probably pay attention, but that’s what he has Eskel for.
Once the speech ends, Eskel grabs one of the farm’s cloth tote bags and steers him towards the orchard.  The apple trees are lined up in neat little rows, each one marked with a sign declaring what type of apple they hold.  It looks so picturesque that Jaskier feels his chest tighten.  Who would have thought he’d be in the kind of relationship where he goes apple picking on a date?  Certainly not him.
“You’re here, but your mind is miles away.  Where’d I lose you?” Eskel interrupts him, and Jaskier offers a sheepish smile at him.
“Sorry, dear,” he says with a snort, “I’m actually thinking about how wonderful you are, but perhaps I should enjoy the time I’m spending with you instead?”
“Why not do both?  Feel free to compliment me while we pick,” Eskel tells him with a fond look.
“I just might,” Jaskier says before asking, “Why don’t you grow apples at the greenhouse?  It looks like this place does pretty decent business.”
“It sure does, but look at how massive it is!  We definitely don’t have the space to dedicate to an orchard.  Hell, we barely have space for everything Lambert wants to experiment with.  He’s always grafting something new in his free time.  We definitely wouldn’t even have room for Christmas trees come winter if we didn’t have so much land in the family.  Thankfully our dad lets us plant what we need,” Eskel explains.
“Ah, yes.  You’ll have to show off the family homestead someday.  Geralt makes it sound like it’s heaven on earth,” Jaskier says before realizing he probably shouldn’t invite himself to Eskel’s family home. Hanging out with his brothers occasionally is different than meeting his dad.
“It’s a rustic farmhouse in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with acres and acres of pine trees surrounding it.  Geralt just likes it so much because Vesemir lets him keep horses there,” Eskel points out.  “Trust me, it’s beautiful piece of property, but I’m way too accustomed to the comforts of civilization to pack up and move back home.  And uh, we’re actually invited for dinner this Saturday if you’d like?  I was going to try and find a way to sneak it into the conversation, but you’ve done me a huge favor here.”
“Oh, I’d love to!” Jaskier chirps, his excitement making Eskel’s cheeks darken.  He looks so handsome that Jaskier can’t help leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.  It’s over way too fast, and then they’re off picking.
They start off in a row of Empire apples, which Eskel mentions are great for baking.   Jaskier accuses him of keeping his hidden baking skills secret, but Eskel just shoots him a sly smile and offers to teach him how to bake a pie.  It’s easy banter, just light conversation as they work on picking the best looking apples.  Still, Jaskier feels pleasantly warm all over, and it’s definitely not the autumn sun heating him up.
They pick in silence for a bit, their tote bag half full in no time at all. That’s when Jaskier spots what has to be the prettiest apple he has ever seen.  It’s bright red with a couple patches of green, and it’s roughly the size of his fist.  He simply has to have it.  Sadly, he can’t reach it, even on his tip-toes.  He looks forlornly back at the ladders stacked next to the welcome stand, but they’ve wandered off quite a lot and they seem ridiculously far away.
“What’s wrong?” Eskel asks, tilting his head like a confused puppy while Jaskier pouts at him.
“I want that one,” he explains with a sigh, and Eskel reaches up, only for his fingers to barely touch the bottom of the apple.
“Let me help,” Eskel says, leaning over and motioning for Jaskier to climb on his shoulders.
“Eskel, dear, I’m six two.  If I can’t reach it, perhaps it’s not meant to be picked,” Jaskier says with a laugh.
“Well what if it’s the most delicious apple you’ve ever tasted?  What then?” Eskel argues, and Jaskier just rolls his eyes before stepping behind him.  It takes a bit of work and is ridiculously awkward, but somehow he manages to get himself on Eskel’s shoulders.
“Fuck, you’re strong,” Jaskier mumbles, slightly in awe of the behemoth of a man beneath him.  He looks down with wide eyes to find Eskel beaming up at him, his scarred lip pulling to show even more teeth than normal.
He’s absolutely gorgeous, and Jaskier still can’t believe he gets to call him his.
Jaskier nearly falls while getting down, and the two of them end up clinging to each other, laughing, with the prized apple clutched between them.   Making a show of wiping it on Eskel’s sweater, he offers his boyfriend a smirk before biting into the large apple.  The flavor is a perfect blend of sweet and tart, and Jaskier moans softly as the juices burst across his tongue.
He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, Eskel is grinning at him with heat in his gaze.  Instead of saying anything, he holds the apple up to his mouth, watching as Eskel takes a loud bite.  His eyelids flutter closed as he offers his own soft moan, and Jaskier has never felt so justified.
“That'll teach you not to mock me before you try it,” he says, but Eskel isn’t paying any attention to him, already grabbing for the apple again.  “Oh no you don’t! I worked hard for this!” he cries out, but Eskel just laughs before chasing him around the trunk of the tree.  He pins him up against it, bracketing Jaskier’s body with his own.
“Then you best stop teasing before we get thrown out of here for being indecent,” Eskel mutters, but he looks so pleased that Jaskier knows he isn’t upset.
“I’d say it would be worth it, but they’ll have to pry this apple from my cold dead hands, so let’s leave some space for Jesus between us and finish picking, yeah?" Jaskier asks.  Eskel snorts in response, but backs up and looks around for their abandoned tote bag.   Once he finds it, he holds out a hand for Jaskier, who happily slides his own into it, squeezing lightly as they move on.
If anyone sees their little display, no one calls them on it.
It takes them the better part of an hour - Jaskier will only let the very best apples into their tote - but eventually their bag is full.  Jaskier spends a ridiculous amount of time trying not to focus on how holding the overflowing bag makes the muscles on Eskel’s forearms strain.  His green and purple succulent tattoo is already enough to draw Jaskier’s eyes, and this is almost too much.
“You’re spacing out again,” Eskel says, snorting when Jaskier trips over his own feet in his effort to look normal.
“Sorry, I can’t help being easily flustered when my boyfriend is so hot,” he says with a giggle.  Eskel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth definitely twitch.
“Well good thing we’re done,” Eskel comments, his voice darkening, “all we have to do is weigh and pay for these, and then I can take you home and fluster you up some more.”
“I like the way you think.”
They make their way up the small hill and away from the orchard.  There aren’t many people in line, but they have to wait long enough for Jaskier to get distracted by all the extra little goodies the farm sells.  He debates whether or not he needs some local honey, but what really draws his eye is the hypnotic spin of the cider slushie machine.
“Go grab me a couple bottles of hard cider, and I’ll order you a slushie,” Eskel tells him softly, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“That obvious, huh?” he asks a bit sheepishly.
“You’re practically drooling, babe,” Eskel tells him, and Jaskier feels himself go warm at the nickname.  He never thought he’d be into sweet little endearments like that, but apparently he really really is.  He can tell Eskel notices his blush by the twinkle in his eyes.  Ignoring it, Jaskier wanders into the little shop and over towards the cooler full of hard cider.  There are way too many flavors to choose from, but he settles on an original and a tart cherry that he thinks Eskel will appreciate.
Once he returns to the line, Eskel nods approvingly at his choices and hands him an iced cold cider slushie.  The first sip is nearly sweet enough to knock him over, and he must make a face, because Eskel chuckles at him.
“It’s sweet, try it,” Jaskier says, holding out the red and white striped paper straw.
“Nah, the only sweet thing I need is you,” Eskel mutters, and Jaskier feels like his face is burning up.  Somehow he manages to keep it together long enough for them to finish paying, and they head back to Eskel’s truck, chilly hands tightly clasped together.  They load up the truck and Jaskier leans over to kiss Eskel once they climb inside.  It’s short, just a soft press of lips, but it still makes his toes curl.   They hold hands the whole way home, their hands resting on the beat up bench seat of the truck.
It’s pretty much the perfect fall day.
---
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winters-mistress · 26 days
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The wolf pups
Of all the things Cirilla expected to find when Geralt had taken her to his mysterious Keep, the dogs were the things she hadn't expected. The horses were obvious, pigs and sheep and cows, all livestock equally as expected. Housemice and cats, less so until she saw how dusty and dirty the Keep had become. But dogs? That had been the unexpected one.
They're somewhere between wolves and shepherds. Too big and fluffy to be just shepherds, but too obedient and faithful to be pureblood wolves. But they're beautiful and such a pro to the cold, windy keep that Cirilla couldn't help but squeak in excitement as she looked upon them all for the first time.
They're beautiful creatures, white, black, red and grey. Some are pure colour, some a mix of two, three or all four colours. Beautiful and fluffy and large, a mix of brood studs and breeding bitches, old dogs and young pups all together in the largest room behind the kitchens, warm even in the coldest winter weeks.
Geralt had told her that they're for hunting. Vesemir says they make good company in the months he doesn't stray far from the keep. Eskel says they make good friends with the sheep, give them good exercise so they don't get too fat to breed. Lambert says they're annoying, slobbery mutts who get in the way. Coën finds them charming beasts, often grinning whenever one of the dogs come close. Aiden took a bit longer to get used to them, and rather stays with the cats who find unusual places to sleep, but even he has been caught rubbing their fur and squishing their faces.
Ciri loves them, spending a lot of time with the bigger beasts who are permitted to roam the large keep, and the smaller pups who are confined to the room. They're so soft and fluffy and make perfect makeshift blankets when she lay at the fireplace and two large bodies splay over her, keeping her warm and weighing her down, keeping her in reality when the nightmares disturb her slumber.
Geralt finds her one day, giggling with the pups as they wrestle and climb all over her, running her fingers over the soft fur and kissing their gentle snouts. He grins as she laughs, a little tounge licking at her face. She deserves something nice after so many hardships.
He puts the shovel down. The stables can wait.
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eskelwolf · 3 months
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Brandon had finally bitten the bullet and set up a profile on a dating website. He was looking for someone to date and perhaps even spoil a bit. He didn't really see very many that caught his eye, most he clicked on seemed to only want to hook up. He kept looking and found a familiar face. Him being on the site didn't bother him, he laughed softly as he sent a message. 'hey eskel. Dad know about this account?' he messaged, teasing 'be careful hooking up on here ' he added. @wildwolfxstrangledwolf
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As Eskel received the message and his blood ran cold. That was Brandon, his fathers best friend... and his secret crush since he was 13 years old. He was 19 years old now and there wouldn't be any... ther was no problem... and Eskel thought about Brandon all the damn time... but being caught on a dating app was a whole other can of worms.
At first he wanted to just block Brandon... then delete the app and never come back again. But Brandon could take screenshots! Vesemir was so focused on Eskel's safety after what happened to Alys that he wouldn't like it that Eskel even had a secret smartphone with dating apps on it. He's been so sure no one would really look for him. Vesemir had no social circle besides work and Eskel also wasn't social... he thought the photo was grainy enough wihtout showing the upper half of his face with his giant nose, but maybe it was some other things that gave away who he was...
What could he do? What did he want to do? Not let Vesemir find out.... and.... make Brandon forgot that he read through Eskel's profile. Eskel, the virgin, who had laid out in flowery prose of how he wanted to have sex and be dominated, guided...
Oh GOD, he would never not feel ashamed ever again.
"Please don't tell dad," he replied, "You know he wants me to stay home and safe like Alys."
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thyra-athenor · 10 months
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Thyra's Character Sheet
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Basics:
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Name: Thyra Athenor
Aen Elle Name: Inra Breac Glas
Nicknames: -
Birth Place: Tir-Na-Lia
Birth Year: -
Birth Order: Second Child
Family Situation: Adopted by Humans
Visual Age: 25
Age: 150
Social Class: Lower Class
Appearance:
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Height: 5’7
Build: Lean, Lithe
Race: Elf
Ethnicity: Aen Elle
Hair Color: Copper Red
Hair Style: Curly and left long
Eye Color: Gray
Eye Shape: Hooded, Almond
Distinguishing Marks: Freckles
Skin: Fair, normal
Hands: Thin fingers, round nails, calloused fingers
Scars: A few on her hands from her work as an herbalist
Types of Clothes: A green dress that is relatively modest
Clothes Appearance: Neat and orderly
Feet Appearance: Always in shoes- flats or boots
Mannerisms: Twirling curls on fingers, humming to fill silence
Usual Accessories: A silver medallion with an emerald in the center, a dagger on her hip.
About:
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Alignment: Lawful Good
Occupation: Herbalist
Canon Love Interest: Eskel
RP Love Interest:
Multiship: Yes
Sexuality: Pansexual
Likes: Herbs, Dandelions, Reading, Gardening, Outdoors, Pine Smell, Swans, Drying Herbs, Sweet Berries, Pierogies, Mead, 
Dislikes: Lavender, Loud Noises, Boring Books, Borscht
Fears: Monsters, Witch Hunters, Radovid
Favorite Color: Green, Forest Green, Chartreuse, Any Shade of Green
Literature: Books on Herbalism and Gardening
Favored Expletives: Shit, Fuck, Gods be Damned
Manner of Transportation: Mostly by foot, occasionally on horseback
Hobbies: Gardening, Herbalism, Reading, Writing Poetry
Favorite Childhood Memory: Spending time traveling with her adoptive merchant parents through Temeria.
Least Favorite Childhood Memory: Almost being “kidnapped” by Novigrad guards who didn’t believe that Thyra was her adoptive parents' child. 
Personality:
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Personal Triggers: -
Overused Phrase: Gods be damned, Fuck
Optimist or Pessimist: Optimistic
What makes them laugh out loud: Pun-y jokes, and dad jokes
Love Language: Physical Touch, Quality Time
Strongest Character Trait: Empathetic
Weakest Character Trait: People Pleaser
Greatest Fear: Being attacked by monsters or humans
Overrated Virtue: Righteous Indignation
Song: Aqua Regia - Sleep Token
Smell: Pine and herbs
Other:
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Thyra is the sister to Eredin Breac Glas, though she doesn’t know it. 
She was abandoned in Temeria by her parents hiding her from her brother, when she was a baby. 
Thyra was found by a human couple who adopted Thyra, after waiting for days to see if anyone would return to claim the little elfling.
The Human couple found her to be a blessing of the Gods as they had been trying to have their own children to no avail. 
They gave her the name Thyra
Her adoptive parents are merchants, and she spent her childhood traveling around Temeria and different parts of the continents while her parents traded and bought things. 
Thyra and her family settle in a decent sized village, where she grows up to set up a successful herb shop. 
Her parents continue traveling and trading and visiting often. 
Thyra is a skilled Healer and Herbalist, and spends her time gardening or picking herbs or reading more about different healing techniques or gardening techniques. 
She is mostly accepted in her village, though there is a wariness most of the humans have of her. 
But that doesn’t deter Thyra and she does her best to make nice with the villagers and tends to them as necessary. 
Thyra isn’t just good at healing people, but she does try to expand her knowledge on how to care for animals as well to make sure the village stays running smoothly. 
Thyra doesn’t make much but it is enough to keep her little herb shop open and running and a roof over her head. 
Thyra can do a little bit of magic, but she keeps that underwraps as she doesn’t know how the villagers will take to it. 
But it is really basic things like bringing herbs back to life. 
Family and Relationships:
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Varrel Athenor - Adoptive Father - Thyra has a very strong relationship with her adoptive father, and doesn't care much for the difference in their races. He loves her all the same and poured all his love into Thyra like she was his own. He taught her many things about trading, haggling, bargaining and so on so one day she could avoid getting swindled out of purse breaking prices. He also taught her a hard and strong work ethic.
Sophia Athenor - Adoptive Mother - Thyra is very close to her adoptive mother, and they also have a very strong relationship. Sophia never treated Thyra like she was any different. She taught her all the things she knew about herbalism when Thyra started to show an interest in it. She also taught her how to garden. Sophia was literate and made sure that Thyra was taught to read and write. To spend time together the two on their travels would gather herbs to make salves, tinctures, etc. to sell on their travels.
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