#eskel/demon

[starfirewildheart]

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to 

Words: 3,936

Chapter 1

Ciri was trying to hide her chuckle at Geralt’s low growl but couldn’t keep quiet. The red spot on his forehead was already fading to soft pink due to his witcher healing powers. She’d been frightened at the goat-like creature that had jumped from the bushes at first because it looked like the demons she’d read about in books. Geralt had told it to go away but it shot a metal ball at him from a slingshot, catching the witcher in the forehead with a loud thunk. After a low growled “fuck” Geralt was off of Roach and had the little menace pinned to the ground. The entire scene was more than funny to Ciri and even though Geralt cast her a very frustrated glare she couldn’t help but laugh. 

This lifestyle was a far cry from what she was accustomed to as the princess of Centra and coupled with the loss and trauma she’d suffered she was glad for the levity. It had only been four days since she’d managed to find her protector and while she felt safe with him she was still uncomfortable with what being someone’s ‘child surprise’ meant. What were the implications of being a child surprise? Was she to be the Witcher’s mate when she got older? Was he just to be her guardian? What was expected of her? Was he now her owner? Could he sell her if he wanted to? Did she have any say in what was going to become of her? There had been no time to ask any of these things because it seemed something was always trying to kidnap or kill her. She’d seen Geralt fight several times in just the short time they’d been together and as reluctant as she was to admit it, even to herself, the witcher intimidated her greatly.  

Geralt had led them to a small town to get a room for the night. Ciri had never been more grateful for a hot bath and a bed. At dinner, she was introduced to the bard, Jaskier, who had been performing at the inn. She was surprised Geralt and Jaskier were friends as they were so different. They were like night and day. She wasn’t happy when her protector left her with the bard with a simple rumbled, “Stay.” She protested but he told her he had to take a contract and earn some coin if they were going to continue to eat. She sat at the inn for nearly a full day before he returned. He was covered in blood and muck and what looked to be entrails as he swept into the bar. The silence was deafening as he approached the mayor of the town and dropped a cloth bag containing a severed Endrega head on the table in front of him. The next morning he used some of the coin to get a horse for Ciri and they headed off, that was two days ago. 

Ciri finally worked up the courage to speak. “Where are we going?”

“Dorian.”

The witcher was a man of very few words and sometimes having a conversation was like pulling teeth. “Why?”

“Information.” Geralt wasn’t trying to be difficult but something was off. He felt a hum throughout his body. It was similar to when a monster was near yet not quite the same and he didn’t know what it was. It had him on high alert and he was trying to focus on their surroundings. 

“Can you speak in full sentences?” she huffed softly thinking he wouldn’t hear her.

“Yes, I can,” he arched a brow in her direction. “I may be a mutant but I am an educated one.” Geralt hissed and cringed; his shoulder and back felt as if they had been licked by fire. He could feel blood trickling down his skin and pulled Roach to a stop

“I didn’t mean to…” she blushed. “Geralt?” she asked worriedly.

He was off his horse and removing his shirt with a hiss. “Fuck!” The air felt electric and the pull he felt was even stronger. He wanted to run into the woods and find whatever was doing this. He looked up when Ciri came to him. “Hand me the kit in my pack.”

“What happened?” she gasped as she saw the large slash that went from his right shoulder down to his waist in a slight inward arc.

“I don’t know.” He laid out the kit and found the healing potion he needed. He poured half of it down his back on the wound itself, the sting making him growl then he drank the rest. “What the fuck is happening?” he wondered aloud. 

Ciri took one of the bandages, wet it from one of the water skins and started gently dabbing at the bloodll. Geralt tensed, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t but you can’t get to all of this to clean it on your own. What happens if it gets infected?” She took her hand and turned the witcher back around. She knew it was only because he allowed it but still she wanted to be of use. His muscles were rigid and tense the entire time she was touching him. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” He tried to hide the unease in his voice. He wasn’t used to someone caring for his wounds unless he was at Kaer Morhen. It made him uncomfortable. 

“There, finished,” Ciri said as she got the last of the blood off his skin. The wound was no longer open and bleeding but it still looked very red and angry. 

Geralt pulled his other shirt from his bag and quickly put it on. “We need to keep moving.”

They rode in silence for a bit before Ciri spoke again. “Has anything like that ever happened to you before?”  

“Quiet” he whispered as he pulled Roach to a stop again. The feeling was much stronger now. It was pulling him toward the forest. Whatever it was that was guiding him didn’t seem dangerous but he couldn’t be sure. His first instinct was to ask Vesimer but of course, that would have to wait until he saw him at Kaer Morhen. For now, he had to trust his instincts. 

A loud wolf’s howl ripped through the air and made Ciri jump. “Geralt!” 

“Stay on your horse. You aren’t in any danger,” the witcher assured her. He slid off of Roach and handed her reins to Ciri. “Stay close.” He walked farther down the trail, sword at the ready. The scent of blood and sulfur hit him before he saw the remains of the first body. “Wait here.” 

Ciri was frightened but did as he told her. Somehow the witcher seemed to have a calming effect on her even though she was scared. 

Geralt walked farther away from the road into the woods and he saw a small camp. As he looked around the area he counted the bodies of about twenty Nilfgaard warriors littered on the ground. It looked as though they had been torn apart by animals and fed upon. They were in various stages of decomposition and dismemberment. Suddenly he saw movement. Someone was alive. He rushed over to the prone body and knelt down. 

Naurel saw someone approaching but did not have anything left in her to fight with. This was the end for her and she was grateful for it. The pain was finally over she thought to herself as she saw a giant cloaked figure approach. Just as hands reached for her the world faded to black.

Ciri gasped when she saw Geralt running back toward her with a woman in his arms. An unconscious, bloody woman. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. There seemed to be a fight of some sort. Maybe with a beast or animal, I’m not sure. She is the only survivor.” He knelt on the ground lowering her gently so he could examine her. “Get my bag and bring me the bandages and my kit,” he ordered as he moved to unbutton the top of the woman's dress. 

 Ciri knelt down beside him to help and she had to look away from all the gore. “What would do something like that?”

“No beast that I know of,” Geralt growled. “This was done by humans.” He wiped away all the dirt and blood he could in an attempt to help her. “This is beyond my skill,” he sighed. “We need to get her to Lakeside. They will have a healer and with any luck, Triss will be there.” He knew the sorceress frequented Lakeside and stayed there with the healer a lot. She enjoyed the quiet and the herbs that grew by the lake. Geralt lifted the woman onto Roach and climbed up behind her. “We must ride quickly. Keep up,” he ordered as he urged Roach on. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Triss smiled as she heard people start whispering about the approaching witcher. One thing about a small village was that news of visitors spread like wildfire. She was anxious to see Geralt. It had been too long. Her smile faded however when she opened the door and saw the near lifeless woman in his arms. “Get her on the table, quickly.”

Geralt laid the woman down and helped Triss start removing her dress. He noticed among the wounds was one just like the one he got on his back before finding her. “Found her in the woods. She was the only one left alive out of about twenty Nilfgaardian soldiers. No sign of what or who did this though.” They stopped short of bearing her completely. No one noticed Triss's friend the healer slip out the door.

“These wounds are not from a beast or animal Geralt. A human; likely a sorcerer or mage did this to her,” Triss worried. She turned to the young girl that was with them. “Fill the tub with hot water. Use the tea tree oil and add some of the liquid soap to the left.” She saw Geralt arch his brow in question. “There are so many wounds the best way to ensure we cleanse them all is to put her in a tub loaded with antiseptic. Normally I wouldn’t because it will be incredibly painful but she’s unconscious.”

Geralt removed his armor and dropped it on the floor out of the way before tossing his shirt aside as well. As soon as the water was ready they rid her of the last of her clothing and he lifted her into his arms. Carefully carrying her the few steps over and lowering her into the water. The maiden’s eyes snapped open at the searing pain and she started to thrash about and struggle. Geralt grabbed her wrists in both his hands and held her still. “Shh, you’re going to cause yourself further injury. We are here to help you. My name is Geralt and this is Triss. She is a sorceress. She’s going to heal you.” 

The maiden’s mouth opened to scream at her to get away but the only sound that escaped her was a wheezing rasp. She wanted nothing to do with another sorcerer. Why couldn’t she just die? What had she done to anger the gods enough to make them let this happen to her? She could feel the restraints around her wrists and it took a moment to register that they weren’t metal cuffs but huge hands holding her still. For the first time, she forced herself to focus on the looming figure above her. Her emerald green eyes met gold and she slowly calmed down. She didn’t know why but all the fight drained from her as his low, growling voice soothed her and her eyes slipped shut again.

Ciri positioned another bucket of water under the woman’s hair as it draped over the back of the tub. She began scrubbing and picking muck and bone fragments out of her hair while Triss and Geralt cleaned her body. Ciri couldn’t help but stare at the witcher as he gently cleaned and cradled the maiden's arms and legs. She hadn’t seen the gentle side of him and it helped her relax to know he wasn’t always such a brute as he seemed. 

The snarl Geralt let out when he started washing her feet made them all jump. Triss quickly moved to see what he was so upset about. There were bruises and lash marks from a cane where the bottoms of her feet had been beaten raw. “It’s a war crime,” he growled in answer to Triss’s unspoken question. “They do it so the person can’t stand to run away. I haven’t seen anything like this since Falka’s Rebellion.”

Once she was cleaned Geralt moved her back to the table and Triss covered her breasts and pelvis with towels to preserve what she could of her modesty. “I can’t heal all of this,” she sighed. “I can heal the internal injuries, probably the broken bones and the worst of the burns but she is going to have a very long recovery.”

Geralt nodded, “do what you can.” 

“Girl,” Triss called to Ciri, who was now sitting in a chair by the fire. “I need to go out behind the cabin and collect all the wildflowers you can for me. I need the stems to be about this long,” she showed her with her fingers.  “Take those two baskets and that cloth bag by the door. As quick as you can.” Ciri nodded and ran out the door. 

Triss pushed up her sleeves and prepared for a long session of healing. “ Hold her so she doesn’t hurt herself more. Healing bones is extremely painful and the burns won’t be much better.” Several hours and most of the flowers in the village later Triss was passed out in her bed, exhausted and Ciri was asleep in the den.

Geralt sat beside the woman and kept the fire going in the kitchen. He put his shirt back on but was too tired to even bother buttoning it as he leaned back in one chair and put his feet up in another. He finally took the time to really look at her and study her features now that she was stable. Her hair was fire red, her skin as pale as his own, and her eyes almost crystal green. She was tall, with long legs, slender but muscular build. He could tell she was used to hard work be it on a farm or as a servant. She had several scars on her back and legs that looked like she’d been whipped and beaten throughout her life and he wondered where she’d come from. He took her small hand in his large one. “Who are you m’lady and what drew me to you?” he asked.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt z rivii

[roughentumble]

i feel like the witcher netflix is setting everyone who cares about ciri against her, and its kind of upsetting

yennefer, her loving mother? tries to sacrifice her to a demon

vesemir, her loving grandfather figure? steals her blood, uses it to make more witcher mutagens, tries to turn her into a witcher which had something like a 2 in 3 chance of killing her

eskel, her big brother and mentor, only ever kind and sweet to her? basically calls her a bitch the first time he sees her, says that if he got a princess surprise he would sleep with her(despite ciri being like 12-16)

lambert, her fast friend, her best buddy? sneeringly calls her a princess, tells her she's not good enough, blames her for things that arent her fault

jaskier, nee dandelion, her loving uncle, who actively lies to spymasters to protect geralt and ciri's location? selling her out to redania for his own safety, in the hopes that the man who tortured him dies

no one is truly on ciri's side anymore. who does she have left who hasnt betrayed her in some sense? this vulnerable young girl with the whole world against her? its heartbreaking. why does this series not want ciri to have /anyone/?

#witcher tag #twn meta

[random-apollo-child]

Jaskier being quiet

Eskel concerned: uhh hey bard are you ok

Jask being a demon: I'm questioning if yall can safely consume nightshade

Eskel: Uhh, huh yeah uh we- "mm we can it'll just make us a little sick, whyyy?

Jask: Lambert hit my arm earlier and it left a bruse so imma go find some nightshade to put in his food

Cöen: should we tell anyone?

Aiden: no I wanna watch this play out

#jaskier #the witcher #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #witcher dandelion #jaskier is a gremlin #the witcher aiden #eskel #cöen #lambert

[merlot-and-chardonnay]

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 8

Chapter 7

"Thank you," you say to Geralt, taking his hand in yours from the tub.

Geralt nods and stands up, fixing to remove his clothing so he could join you. Knowing what he was up to, you move up forward so he could get in behind you.

You lean into him, your back meeting his chest.

"I need to talk to Ciri," you say, "Let her know how sorry I am." "She's resting right now," Geralt says, "you can tell her in the morning. Besides, she probably already knows how sorry you are."

You sigh a bit, and turn to face the man, "if you don't mind, Geralt, I'd like to forget about all this at the moment."

Nodding, Geralt leans back against the tub, relaxing as he lets you get on his lap. You start feeling up and down his body, eventually one hand weaving through his hair and another reaching for his groin.

The witcher grunted as you started to work him. In return, Geralt took one hand and snuck it between your legs, rubbing circles where you would feel the most pleasure.

This continued until he eventually came, with you not following too far behind. You lean into Geralt's chest, relaxing from that little session.

He helps you out of the tub and to dry off, before he carries you to the bed.

Once Geralt was laying on his back, you rest your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around your, pressing a kiss to your head.

"You've been so good to me, Geralt," you mutter as you're about to fall asleep, "I love you."

Geralt's eyes widen a bit as this was the first time you ever told him that. It was this moment, he realized how much he's come to love you too; it was different from the kind of love he felt for Yennefer, it wasn't artificially constructed from a demonic magical monster, it was real and organic.

He was about to say it back, but noticed you were already deep in sleep. He sighed a bit, resting his head back on the pillow. He would have plenty of time to express his feelings in the morning.

----------meanwhile------------------

While you and Geralt were carrying on with your splish-splash sexy fun times, some people in the keep were off doing their own thing.

After putting Ciri to bed, Eskel, Coen, and Lambert went to the village down below to have their own fun at the taverns and/or brothels.

Vesemir had stayed to look into something.

After putting Aemma to bed, the elder witcher had retreated to the library for some extra studying.

There was something he needed to look into concerning the possible origins of your daughter's paternal side of the family, but unfortunately, no such books were available in Kaer Morhen. Even if the library was still intact from the sacking that took place decades ago, the School of the Wolf was never interested in educating its students in history, especially history outside the Continent.

Nevertheless, after that episode of yours earlier today, Vesemir had felt this was something that needed to be looked into.

Luckily Tris was able to help in that department by borrowing several promises texts from the library in Aretuza.

Vesemir currently had two texts before him, one that described the complete history of Westeros, and another on a history on the origins of dragons. The last one, Vesemir found to be an odd choice, but accepted it nonetheless.

He opened the fist book, quickly scanning through the first couple chapters until he got to the descriptions of the current ruling house of this particular realm. Pictures of people with silver blonde hair and violet eyes were scattered over the pages amongst the writing.

Silver hair and violet eyes...just like Aemma's, Vesemir thinks.

The old man didn't quite want to believe it, but if his suspicions were correct, there was a possibility your daughter may possess royal blood within her veins, and not just that, it was blood of a house whose origins could be traced to a place and time that was long gone. Remnants of a bygone era that was once ruled by dragons and dragon riders, as evident in the emblem of the three headed dragon. 

Vesemir then skipped to the last bit of the book to the present to learn more of the current ruling monarch of the Seven Kingdoms.

----------flashback: the Red Keep----------------

"(y/n)?" you hear Rhaenyra speak to you. You were educating her on the kingdoms across the Continent, and this was the moment you felt your stomach turn again.

You manage to shake it off once your heard the princess get your attention, "Oh, forgive me, princess," you tell her, "I uh, I was feeling nauseated, but I'm alright now. Where were we?"

"I believe we were discussing Redania," Rhaenyra answers.

"Oh right, Redania," you say, pointing to the map, "The eagle in a sea of red and gold. The current ruling monarch of that kingdom is Vizimir, but if a match was to be made, you would probably be betrothed to his son, Radovid." "Does he have a court mage?" the princess asks. "Ah, Phillipa Eilhart," you say, "from what I've heard, she specializes in polymorphism magic." Rhaenyra gave you a confused look, "she can shift her appearance," you explain, "like animals."

"Fascinating," the princess says, looking at the map again, "what about Cintra? Any prospects there?" "You really want to consider Cintra as a prospect?" you snort, "or would you see this as an opportunity to meet the Lioness herself?"

"...perhaps," Rhaenyra admits, averting her gaze, "She sounds like a woman to admire. She's fought in battles and wears armor like a man would. Much like the wives of my forebear Aegon the Conqueror."

"Well, Queen Calanthe I don't imagine would be looking for any matches right now," you admit, "it took years for her to marry off her own daughter and many more to say yes to her current husband from Skellige. Besides she doesn't have any sons. The Princess Pavetta died in a tragic accident years ago. The Queen is survived by her granddaughter, Princess Cirilla."

"Cirilla," Rhaenyra repeats, "A beautiful name."

"Yes, I suppose it-" you feel your stomach turn again. "Are you alright?" Rhaenyra asks with concern.

"Yeah," you say, standing, bending over a bit, "Excuse me, princess."

You rush over to the open window and hurl the contents of your stomach once more.

"Are you unwell, (y/n)?" Rhaenyra rushes over to pull your hair back as you hurl again, "If I recall, this is what got you in trouble yesterday."

You recall back to yesterday when you got sick. Then you think back to how long this sickness has been going on. It's been on and off for the last several weeks...now that you think about this had been going on for nearly two months, since the day Daemon left and Rhaenyra was named new heir to the Iron Throne.

"Perhaps I am not," you admit, wiping your mouth. Rhaenyra goes to pour some tea so as to help you rinse your mouth, "I don't feel well, now that I think about it." "You should go back to your quarters then to get some rest," the princess suggests. "I'll be fine," you assure. "No," Rhaenyra insists, "I won't have my personal bard fall over on me when she clearly needs rest. I'm ordering you to return to your quarters and do so. You're dismissed, (y/n)."

You see the serious look on Rhaenyra's face, "As you wish princess," you nod.

You go back to your room and put your lute on the table and lay on the bed. You look to the side and see the cloth you had placed out in case your monthly moon's blood was to start. You had been expecting it to start any day now, but you were still waiting.

Now that you think about it even more, it was like this last month; you had been waiting, but your moon's blood never came.

You haven't bled for nearly two months and you've been getting sick on and off for nearly that same length of time.

You sit up, your eyes widen as you consider the possibility. You instinctively place a hand to your stomach, it suddenly feeling fuller then it had been before. It was the same area Caraxes had placed his snout the day Daemon left, the day you broke away from him.

No, you shake your head in denial, this wasn't possible. You'd been drinking the moon tea the servants brought every other night or so during your little dalliance.

Well, maybe you weren't always diligent as you may have had a few cups of wine before those times and may have forgotten as a result....

Either that, or Daemon's seed is just as stubborn as he is.

You go to your wardrobe, where you find the sack of gold coins you keep hidden, and pull out a few. You were going to need to find a maester or a physician to confirm what you were suspecting...and you were going to need them to be discrete. Hence the reason why you take out a few more extra gold coins. 

-----------end of flashback-------------------------------------

The following morning, you stir a bit and stretch, keeping your eyes closed.

You feel Geralt wrap an arm around you, pulling you into him. You could also feel something else going on between his legs. You grind against him, teasing him further when you reach back to grab him and work his already hardening length.

Geralt grunted in response, you unable to suppress a giggle. He then coaxes you to lay on your belly. He kisses your shoulder as he slowly teases your entrance. You groan out impatiently, pressing your ass against him, hoping he'll get the picture and take you.

He sneaks a hand between your legs, rubbing circles like he did last night. You were a moaning mess by the time he pulled his fingers away and slowly slid into you, ravaging you from behind.

It was slow and lazy, just the perfect way to start the day, you think to yourself.

You were about to finish, when Geralt suddenly stops. "Geralt!" you whine, but he shushes you.

A few moments later, a knock was heard at the door.

"Oi, Geralt," you hear Lambert's voice, "some fucking nonce with a lute just arrived at the keep, he says he knows you. (y/n) too."

You groan a little, knowing who it was, "of course," you mutter, "leave it to my brother to spoil some morning fun."

Geralt kissed your shoulder again, "can you keep him occupied for a little while longer?" the man asks.

"We've been keeping him busy for the last hour or so," Lambert exasperates, "he's starting to get even on Eskel's nerves right now. Don't expect any of us to keep at it just the two of you can spend the morning getting your fucking leg over!"

You feel your face blush from that statement. You groan, hiding your face in the pillow. "Well be there shortly," Geralt says, getting up from the bed.

You weren't done yet, though. You sit up, sticking your hand between your legs. "What are you doing?" Geralt asks, chuckling a bit as he gets his trousers on. "I'm not about to let my idiot of a brother with poor timing stop me from getting what I want," you say with determination, working yourself, "I had every intention to get off, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

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

While you and Geralt were getting ready, Jaskier had been busy figuratively chewing off the witchers' ears off with random things.

There had never been a more collective sigh of relief from the wolves when you walked in fully clothed.

You were still a little miffed that your brother had ruined your morning fun, but were still happy nonetheless to see him.

"Hey," you rush over to give Jaskier a big hug. "(y/n), it's so good to see you again," Jaskier says, looking down, "and no baby in the belly this time. I assume my niece or nephew managed to come out alright."

"Your niece is doing just fine, sweet brother." "You have a daughter, congratulations," Jaskier smiles in joy, "where is the little tyke? I'm sure she's dying to meet her Uncle Jaskier." "Well she's only a few months old, so maybe not," you admit, "But I'll go get her."

You run past Geralt, whom you noticed was hiding a little around the corner. You had some idea as to why. He and the Bard hadn't exactly spoken since that time on the mountain, when Geralt basically told your brother to fuck off.

"You know you won't be able to hide from you forever," you point out. "I'm not hiding," Geralt scoffs. "Really? Looks like hiding to me," you smirk, "come on, Geralt, I've never taken you for the cowardly type, you've been more one to face your problems head on."

"Hmm," Geralt groans a little. "Just talk to him," you insist, "I'm sure he'll be forgiving. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get Aemma up so she can meet her uncle."

You walk down to where Aemma's crib was located.

To your surprise, you see Ciri by the crib with a strange look on her face. She seemed to be staring at your daughter, but her eyes looked blank, like she was really staring off into space.

"Ciri?" You get her attention back to reality.

"Oh, uh, good morning," she says, shaking her head and getting back on her feet. "Is everything, alright, sweetie?" you ask her as you go to get Aemma from her crib. "Yeah, I'm fine," she assures, "I uh, I just...never mind. I had some trouble sleeping last night."

"Was it a bad dream?" you ask her. "I...don't know," she admits.

Ciri didn't say anything to you, but she was still thinking back to last night when she had that vision. She saw a giant, slender red dragon flying in the sky, and she was pretty sure she saw a man in armor with a dragonesque helmet astride the dragon.

The young girl didn't know what this meant, but looking at Aemma in your arms, she had a feeling the two of you were somehow involved.

Ciri placed her hand on Aemma's back, which took you by surprise, "I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she whispers to your daughter.

You frowned in confusion by this girl's small declaration but shrug it off as you and her take Aemma to the main hall of the keep.

Chapter 9

Masterlist

#geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt #witcher geralt #vesemir #ciri #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd #the witcher

[hrefna-the-raven]

Misc.

Masterlist

Enjoy and feel free to reblog :)

►-------------------------------------------------------------------------◄

Disney's Hercules

Hades x reader

Hot as Hades (mini series)

Chapter 1 - Call me with a prayer

Chapter 2 - Prophecy

Chapter 3 - Third base (18+)

Chapter 4 - Invitation

Chapter 5 - The party

The Witcher

Eskel x reader

Another friendly one?

Supernatural

Loki x Sigyn

ᛁᛁᚾ-ᛘᛅᚾᛁ - Einmana (lonely)

ᛘᚢᚾᚢᚦ - Munuð (lust) (18+)

Good Omens

A drunken kiss (Aziraphale x female reader)

Speak French to me (Aziraphale x demon!female reader)

Dracula (1931)

Bela Lugosi!Dracula x female reader

A forbidden kiss

A forbidden kiss - part 2 (18+)

Harry Potter

I don't need your help! (Young Snape x reader)

The Mummy

Resut (Rick O'Connell x Evelyn Carnahan)

How is my wife more badass than me? (Rick O'Connell x female reader)

You've got to crack a few eggs to make a fire (Rick O'Connell x Evelyn Carnahan)

Borderlands 3

Timothy Lawrence x female reader

The handsome "Not-Jack" pot

Cheering up Timothy (18+)

Stranger Things 4

The Samwise to my Frodo (Eddie Munson x female reader)

Star Wars: Jedi: Survivor

Connected through the Force (18+) (Cal Kestis x female reader)

►-------------------------------------------------------------------------◄

The Expanse

Rough day (Joe Miller x reader)

►-------------------------------------------------------------------------◄

#disney #disney villains #hades #hades x reader #the witcher #eskel #supernatural #loki supernatural #spn #good omens #aziraphale good omens #aziraphale #dracula #bela lugosi #bela lugosi x reader #harry potter #severus snape #snape #borderlands #timothy lawrence #the mummy #rick o'connell #evelyn carnahan #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #star wars #cal kestis #jedi survivor #the expanse

[churchofpossum]

Put Eskel in a silly halloween costume that went around on twitter only for it to turn into some weird and kind of sexy demon Eskel.

#eskel #the witcher fanart #the witcher #game!eskel

[blackgatesys]

NEW PINNED POST YEEHAW

we’re redoing our introductory post cause there’s a LOT more of us now and uh yeah

hi! we’re the Black Gate System or the Kaer Morhen Collective. we have a metric fuckton of labels to describe our system but the main ones are: traumaendo, davegenic, avpdgenic, mediple/diversian, hydraconscious and fictive heavy.

bodily we’re 21 + poc

they/them collectively. also both you and you& are cool!

host goes by Mel/Tyelpe

THIS SYSTEM SUPPORTS PALESTINE 🇵🇸

headmate info under the cut!

Talion | he/they + neos | takes on nazgûl form sometimes | recovering persecutor; protector; cassmate; mortemate; tank; bitch/slayer; parental figure; co-host; unfilterer

Lif | he/him | mood booster; assistant and lieutenant of Talion |

Feyvor | he/him | somewhat a wizard | role-less

Geralt | he/him | witcher | parental figure; tank; cassmate; tracker; overrider |

Eskel | he/they | witcher | role-less

Lambert | he/him | witcher | bitch/slayer; bully

Ciri | she/her | universe traveler

Yennefer | she/her | magician/sorceress

Dandelion/Julian | any but she/her | music holder

Agarwaen/Black Hand of Sauron | demon | she/her + neos | devilmate; poltergeist; bitch/slayer

Zog | he/it + neos | uruk-hai | necromancer; mortemate

Boromir | he/him | brother figure; emotional protector; steward

Lucius | he/him | wizard | parental figure

Angmar/Murazor | they/xe/he | nazgûl | magician (art by Valentaine on VK)

Ratbag | he/it + neos | uruk-hai | poltergeist

Amrod | she/fae/they/he | elf | role-less + Amras | vy/vym & they/them | also role-less (art by sithinfection wethinks)

Rog | he/ver + neos | elf | caretaker; soother; parental figure

Maeglin | they/them + neos | elf | emo xenorole | (can’t find artist pls help)

Vilya/Hammer of Sauron | he/him | role-less

Erenion Gil-galad | he/aer | elf | soother; peacemaker; therapist; parental figure; caretaker | (can’t find artist again :/) | skin is darker than pictured here

Fingolfin | he/it/she | elf | parental figure (art by Jenny Dolfen)

Baranor | he/him | role-less

Idril | she/her | soother; xenorole

Morvran | he/they | councilman

Vesemir | he/him | parental figure/uncle with uncontrollable nephews

alright that’s everyone woohoo that took way too long

we won’t be using emoji sing-offs but instead the name of whoever posted/reblogged in either the tags or desc. unsigned posts are all of us. (be warned we are still shit at tagging </3)

and uhh not adding a dni this time. if we ain’t like you we block. same if you don’t like us.

ALMOSR FORGOR: we will reblog some stuff that has to do with heavier/icky topics (we love antirq and pro endo posts) but we’ll tag to the best of our ability

#endo system #pro endo #pluralgang #system #endo safe #Black Gate System #Kaer Morhen Collective #intro post #median system #queer #mediple system #traumaendo #hydraconcious #avpdgenic #endogenic systems #actually endogenic

[geraskierficrecs]

End of the Year Updates (2022)

Thank you all for hanging around and continuing to be amazing friends, writers, artists, and readers for the Witcher fandom!  You have all been incredibly supportive and make me so glad that I am a part of this too.  To that end, I’ve collected all the fics I’ve completed or are in progress this year.

Links and descriptions under the cut.

In-Progress:

The Sin Eater

“He doesn’t have much time now,” the demon observed, “Even Witchers need oxygen. This is your only hope of saving him.”

Jaskier’s face went firm and determined, turning back to the creature with no sign of his earlier hesitation.

The demon looked amused. “Are you sure he’d worth giving up so much?”

“All that and more,” Jaskier whispered.

Then he stepped into the circle. ————————— To save Geralt, Jaskier lets himself be possessed by the demon he was hunting. Will there be anything left of the bard for Geralt to save?

The Fixer

In the world of the wealthiest members of society, there is only one man who you call when there is a problem that needs to disappear. Whether it's killing off your competition or ensuring you have the blackmail you need to keep your enemies at bay, Jaskier--better known as Dandelion--has made a living getting his hands dirty.

So, when the offer comes to track down the missing child of a billionaire CEO, Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier is more than happy to go undercover and get the information they need to ensure Geralt doesn't become a problem.

But what happens when he starts to have feelings for the kind, smartass barista and his strange family?

Completed Multi-Chapter Works:

Lark of My Heart

“What do I smell like to you?”

Geralt looked up from where he was sharpening a blade to frown at the bard. “What?”

“You’re always sniffing around me,” Jaskier explained with a smile that covered the sheepish blush on his cheeks, “And I've read that Witchers have a keen sense of smell so tell me, what do I smell like to you?”

Home. ___________________________

After the mountain, Geralt faces the reality of what his temper has destroyed and tries to pretend like he's fine with that. (He isn't.)

Call Me Sunshine (Jaskier/Eskel)

It becomes a habit to keep an eye on the front door every Wednesday. Jaskier told him after the second week that he tries to grab the flowers on his lunch break. It’s how he found the shop in the first place.

“I tutor a kid near here,” he tells Eskel as he watches the florist trim the thorns off some David Austen roses. “He’s a menace, but his mom wants him to learn piano and is willing to pay for all the grey hairs I’m getting.”

“You play piano?”

“And a few other instruments. My favorite is the lute.”

Eskel grins a little. “A lute? Do you moonlight as a bard too?” ___________________________

Or, a florist AU with enough misunderstandings and pining to fill an entire season of a CW show.

Dying for You (Again and Again)

By his understandably shoddy memory, Jaskier had died over 1300 times since he first drew breath several hundred years ago.

Somehow, none of those deaths ever seemed to hurt as much as the dreams of Geralt. ___________________________________

Or, the Old Guard AU no one asked for, but I wrote.

With My Last Breath

Jaskier is tortured by Nilfgaard--angst, whump, and fluff follow.  In that order.

Wolves and Men

There was a challenge in his expression. A dare for Geralt to cast him aside once more.

Like he had on the mountain.

If life could give me one blessing—Geralt shook his head to banish the memory of those vicious words. Words he’d had plenty of time to regret in the years since Jaskier had walked away. Since Gerat had sent him away.

“Jaskier,” he whispered, voice thick. ________________________ Jaskier thought he'd found the perfect alpha to follow for the rest of his life only to be cast aside. He should have known better--the White Wolf always hunts alone.

If Wishing Made It So

Geralt stared down into the ravine and the glittering rocks below and wished the rumors of the Witcher’s missing emotions were true. He wished for a lot of things, then, staring down at the smear of blue silk stained red.

None of them came true. ———-

On a hunt that goes bad, Geralt is forced to imagine a world where his bard will no longer walk at his side.

Series:

Villainous Universe

Series featuring a supervillain Jaskier falling for the superhero Witcher, Geralt of Rivia.  Contains explicit content as well as all my favorite angsty tropes.

The Sentinel/Guide Verse

Jaskier was half way through a lackluster rendition of one of his least popular songs when his world went static.

In his ears, a foreign heartbeat thundered, ragged and wounded. It felt as though his lungs had gone sideways with the sensation. Even the air itself tasted like it was charged with lightning, bright and bitter as ozone. Deep in his gut, he felt something urging himself forward, pulling him like some invisible string towards an unknown destination.

Something brushed across his senses, rough as tree bark, and sinking into his skin to crawl like ants beneath. He froze, eyes darting around the room like he could spot whoever it was that had sent his senses scrambling against the hard earned shields he was always careful to maintain. In his hands, his fingers faltered, melody disappearing beneath the wave of wrong that felt like it was choking him.

The answer was simple--and impossible.

There was a Sentinel here.

The Full Cops and Robbers Verse

An enemies to lovers story revolving around a charming, mysterious thief and the cop that is absolutely done with his shit.

The Witcher Soldier Verse

Geralt barely managed to slam the pommel of his sword up in a glancing blow that shattered the metal latch holding the Soldier’s mask in place. The Soldier rolled into the movement with a dancer’s grace and came to his full height just as easily. For a moment, his hands reached up to run over the exposed skin, before he slowly turned to face Geralt once more.

The Witcher froze in a mixture of horror and near-frantic hope.

He stared into the eyes of a dead man and whispered, “Jaskier?”

The Soldi--the bard frowned at him in confusion and spoke with a voice rough with disuse,

“Who the hell is Jaskier?” ___________________________

Or, the Winter Soldier AU.

A Light in the Dark Series

One will rise And one will fail, But none can escape destiny’s call. ____________

Jaskier is a bard with a secret. For all the world knows, he strolled onto a stage ten years ago and made a name for himself as the sidekick of the White Wolf. But what came before? And will he be able to escape destiny's call?

A Three Part Series Exploring My Take on a Feral Version of Jaskier

One Shots:

Star Crossed

“It’s not true.”  The man’s voice is rough as a knife over gravel and is short enough to make the bard falter at his tone.  It takes him a moment to realize he’s referring to the story he’d told as part of the festival.

“You don’t believe in the lost lovers?” he asks, offended to the very core of his romantic heart.  He stands a little straighter to glare up at the larger man.  “I’ll have you know that my story comes from the works of Master Essi herself--she knew the lovers herself.  It's the foundation story of our whole town and this festival!  How can you say the story isn’t true?”

A shadow crosses over the stranger’s face and eyes that flash gold flick away from the bard to stare at the trees and the lonely hill.  Despite himself, the bard feels his heart ache at the grief in his expression.

“He didn’t come back.”

Burn For You

Jaskier twitched helplessly as the women filed out of the mill and left him where he was bound on the floor.  He arched his back slightly, trying to see to where the fire was slowly creeping from the bed to drip onto the floor.  It hit the edge of the floor and he closed his eyes, going limp with exhausted pain.

His body ached as he lay on the ground, bleeding.  The floor was cold at his back and noise came through staticky and broken like a voice through a waterfall.  He could just vaguely hear footsteps thudding toward him accompanied by shouting.  Still, his vision refused to focus, and the only thing he could identify around him was the flickering red of the flames reflected in the cloud heavy with rain that would never be enough to stop the fire spreading through the mill.

All he could hope was that the smoke killed him before he began to burn.

Gilded With Blood (Aiden/Lambert)

Aiden watched the slowly growing pool of his life’s blood dripping onto the red rock below him. His chest rose and fell in ragged little gasps made awkward by the sword still pinning him to the earth. Pain was far away now and he knew only the cold chill of death would replace it.

As his eyes closed, he couldn’t help but think:

This was going to destroy Lambert.

A Gentleman’s Guide to Seducing Your Fiancé

It is a truth universally known that Geralt fucking hated Viscount Julien de Lettenhove.

Their rivalry was the stuff of legends, the sort that drew the eye and the idle gossip of members of court. It ensured that each time they came within five feet of the other, the entire room would go still, watchful. Eager. For what could be more delicious, more exciting than a fight between the Crown Prince and his new betrothed?

I’ll Sleep Forever Next to You

“Geralt?” Eskel’s voice distracts him from his spiraling thoughts. “What’s wrong? Where’s the lark?”

Geralt seizes on his brother in arms, near desperate for someone who might know what to do. “He’s sick. He’s, he’s coughing, feverish--”

“How long?” The older Witcher looks like he does before battle, steady and fierce.

“I, I’m not sure.” Abruptly, Jaskier’s early night has all manner of new meanings. Had he been feeling poorly that long? His brow furrows. “He sounded like he was having trouble breathing last night.” _____________________________________

Or, three Witchers freak out over a bard with a cold.

Don’t Leave Me

Jaskier’s hands tighten around Geralt before slowly losing their grip, spasming where they fall limp. “Ger--geralt--”

“Don’t you dare,” he snarls back, “Don’t you dare try to give me your fucking goodbyes. You are not dying.”

“S--silly man.” Jaskier’s smile is full of painful fondness. “Would you fight death for me?”

Geralt swings him up into his arms and nearly weeps at the sound of familiar hooves running in his direction. “Every. Fucking. Time.”

Between One Heartbeat and the Next

Please. Please, not this.

Don’t make him listen to Jaskier’s voice beginning to strain in a way it never did on stage even as he continued to reassure Geralt.

“It’s okay… Geralt, you’ll be okay.”

Not without you.

“You’re...gonna be fine in...just a little while.”

You won’t.

“ ‘s...not...so bad...like going to sleep.”

Nononononopleaseno

Waiting for the Sun

Jaskier was dying.

The confirmation came with each cramping, shallow breath and spots of grey drowning out the mottled stone walls that would become his tomb. After all the years he’d spent terrified of this moment, it was almost anticlimactic to realize he was too tired now to fight back any longer. He was dying. The world would continue without him.

Blood dripped from his fingertips and formed erratic patterns against his own skin. Over the sound of his racing heart he could hear footsteps and murmured voices that made him want to vomit or rage in fury.

They were watching him. He didn’t need to look up into the window to see the strange faces twisted into cruel smiles, pleased at his suffering. He hated them.

Not a Damsel, Not in Distress

The one closest to him raised his trembling sword with a panicked expression at the unexpected violence. “Wh--what the fuck? You’re just a bard.”

Jaskier’s smile was more a baring of his teeth, made more alarming with the blood sprayed across his skin and clothing. “Your first mistake was believing that.” _____________________________

Geralt and Jaskier are ambushed by a pack of mercenaries. It was really their fault for believing the yellow eyed Witcher was the only threat.

Frantic

Geralt was hanging limply against the rough bark. Two daggers kept him pinioned like a bug in place and left dark streaks of drying blood down his arms and exposed chest. Silver hair was matted close to his forehead from a sluggishly bleeding would that left golden eyes hazy and unfocused. Worst still were the bruises littering every inch of exposed skin like a collage of torment.

His Witcher had been tortured.

———

There was a name for the emotion burning like fire in his blood, eating away at the dandelion bard that had made his living seeking the pleasure of others. A simple phrase that barely encompasses the new tension in his bones and made his mind focus with singular, violent intent.

Wrath.

A Blade in the Back

There was a flicker of movement at his side and he felt something slam into his unprotected flank.  Magic blew past him, ruffling his hair but leaving him unharmed. Surprised by the sudden attack, Geralt stumbled and whirled to face whoever had hit him.  

Only instead of a beast, he saw a bard.

Jaskier clutched at his chest where a dark stain seemed to spread over his heart.  His bright eyes stared at Geralt helplessly, mouth opening and closing without sound.  Geralt stared back at him in shock until Jaskier dropped heavily to his knees, collapsing like a puppet with his strings cut. ___________

In the midst of a battle, Jaskier is hit with an unknown curse. All at once Geralt finds himself locked in battle with the only man he wants to protect.

The Sweetest Poison

“And what do you want in return?  Your freedom? Your safety?”

Jaskier didn’t flinch from her scorn and Geralt could see his knuckles go white with the force of his grip around the small vial.  “Save him.”

The mage stared at him for a beat before letting out a burst of laughter that echoed off the wall like the flutter of vultures wings.  “All this trouble for the Witcher?” she asked incredulously, “Tell me, boy, do you really think he would do the same for you? That he cares at all what happens to the bard who follows after him like a lost puppy?”  She stepped forward, confident as a soldier preparing his death blow. “Oh, I know who you are, bard. I watched you trailing after the Witcher, eager for every scrap of affection or interest he’ll toss your way. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Jaskier was breathing heavily now, jaw clenched tight enough that Geralt could see the muscles fluttering with effort.

“Were you hoping this ill-conceived rescue mission would be enough to make him finally notice you?” she murmured with a mocking smile, “Poor little bard--always singing of love but never truly experiencing it.”

Into the Jaskierverse Additions:

Interlude: The Thief

Jaskier opened his mouth to cry out, to scream, anything, but it was ripped away by the jagged shards of reality tearing through him.  It was the djinn all over again.  The agony of watching Geralt disappearing beneath the rubble of the house.  The first chill that always signaled Geralt returning to Kaer Morhen.  The pull of power and magic that he now recognized as the moment before a spell hit and he was left with no option but to wait for the pain to hit--helpless in the whims of an unnatural force.  

Only this time there was nothing to stop the raw power that seemed determined to unravel him down to his very soul.  

He

     was

                remade.

Not Without You

“Geralt?” he finally whispered, a fragile hope in the familiar word.

“I’m here,” Geralt said as he crossed the room to stand next to the table.  “I’ve got you.”

Kicking aside the corpse of the mage, he fumbled with the restraints until he was able to release Jaskier’s arms and legs.  They twitched weakly against him and Geralt ran his hands over the rough shirt and pants Jaskier had been dressed in, searching for any other injuries.

“Geralt?”

“It’s me,” Geralt soothed. “They won’t hurt you again, I promise.”

Jaskier’s hands found an anchor against the front of Geralt’s shirt and he shuddered violently.  “I thought...I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

#geraskier #my stuff #geralt/jaskier #geraltxjaskier #jaskier/geralt #whump #angst #Angst with a happy ending #modern au #completed story #ao3feed #masterlist #feral jaskier #badass geralt #badass jaskier #lambert/aiden

[stromuprisahat]

Slightly incoherent The Witcher S02 rant

(Finished and posted two years later with no Starbucks involved...)

They’re trying so hard to be The Next Game of Thrones, they’re erasing everything that makes The Witcher special. Things are changed unnecessarily, *new* *original* storylines added- much simpler and inferior to source material.

There’s a lack of ~variety~ of dangers. Different kinds, different degrees... It’s all life-threatening, fatal. The writers forgot some things can be dangerous only thanks to specific circumstances. Leshy in the woods can be just that- monster living in witchers’ keep’s backyard, not some weird parasite trying to murder or transform all the witchers.

Another trend I've noticed is "No rest for the heroes.". Characters aren't allowed to have a place and/or time to develop without preasure. The most peaceful part of Ciri's story got turned into parade of incompetent, inconsiderate idiots. It’s the same issue I had with first season of Shadow and Bone, where MC's studies and integration into new enviroment got struck out. Both were lacking "action". Both got cut short and re-written to be more "eventful". In both cases the story AND characters suffered. Characters aren’t developed, they become changed. Netflix seems to have a pattern, and- considering second season of S&B- doesn’t learn from its previous terrible results.

Another huge issue is pacing. The whole season feels like it happened in a week, when Blood of Elves took more than a season of the year.

“I know someone...” As it turned out, we all do.

When we’re at things I hate, there’s the trend of connecting EVERYTHING. You have a minor part to fill? Give it to one of already existing characters to make their path more eventful and memorable. What happened to random soldier, corpse no. 54 or anonymous inkeeper in shithole MC’s just passing through? You don't constantly cross ways with the same three people! Make the world real by houndreds of faces you'll never see again! It’s like the creators didn’t notice this is a TV show, not a video game, where you have to animate every different feature, so more NPC with the same faces are to be expected.

I also dislike the trend of giving some storylines to one-off side characters or making new things up just to make them important enough to keep them around (Istredd, Dara, Stregobor). Why can't you accept some people appear, fuck up your life and you never see them again? Are they pushed to keep some actors around?

The books are mostly following Geralt’s and Ciri’s story, but not exclusively. Show offers a chance to add more background politics, wider picture. Instead they bait us with well-known, already beloved characters that get reduced to something they’re not. I’ve made a separate post about Francesca Findababair, but they didn’t treat Philippa any better. Instead of a badass, crucial for the plot, the intelligence behind Redanian Intelligence, she’s just an owl. Dijkstra’s messanger to keep in touch with some sad little elf kid.

Voleth Mier disaster

There isn’t more genric evil creature in fantasy than “demon”. Then they call it “Mother of Evil”? She’s feeding on fear? I’m starting to suspect someone in the writing room has some serious mommy issues. ... and no imagination.

Apparently Blood of Elves without a final boss fight is too boring to adapt faithfully. There’s no time to increase the stakes gradually. Every season needs to end with a BANG!

Shared dreams? Why is there the need to connect everything even more to make it MORE important and SPECIAL and INTERESTING?

Vesemir and the rest of Kaer Morons

Why the fuck is Coën Wolf, not Griffin? Remember how I talked about unnecessary changes? Why bother keeping names, when everything else is different?

Eskel didn’t deserve this shit. The writers are counting on our pre-existing knowledge of his relationship with Geralt, so his death has at least some impact. Zero effort on their part, merely one (1) flashback. The Wolf funeral is plain stupid, while supposed to look "cool". a.) There isn't many witchers, they tend to die on the Path. b.) I'm sure the mutations just make the witchers tastier. No side effects. c.) Eskel was a fucking tree. Did the wolves just use him as a fancy chewing toy?

Lambs is a dick, but a dick, who loves his family. Not a bully picking on young traumatized girls.

Vesemir’s probably the second worst, considering the whole mischaracterization mess. They’ve changed friendly grandpa into "Let us use Ciri to make more witchers". Not OOC at all.

The writers also kinda missed the whole point of only four witchers living in the gigantic keep, but never mind that...

Why do they bother looking for new stories, when they just grind it into homogenic crap corresponding with The Pattern™?

Since when are witchers training in temples? (So much for neutrality...) And where's the chubby Slavic panímáma? Melitele's tample was about healing and herbs, not magic, that's Yennefer's storyline. Yes, it matters. It completely changes the perspective.

Since there’s no emotional build-up for anything, creators went for low-haging fruit. But Roach had to die for more reasons. Aside from the obvious (Horses aren’t immortal and we can’t kill the bard.), it’s the perfect way to get Geralt on gorgeous black Friesian. Y'no, because other horses are never so cool. And the Hero™ can't ride just some chestnut these days... Don't get me wrong, I love Friesians since I was a child, but this trend is beyond annoying.

Why change 14th of the hill? That’s Triss’ storyline and passing it on Yennefer served absolutely nothing.

Then we have Rience, who is for some reason super powerful- not only he doesn't have a problem drawing from fire, he can teleport to witcher's keep? Place full of magic, the very same one that's hard to find and he's never been to? Compare with game!plot, where Lambert’s dimetrium bombs messed with Yennefer’s magic enough for her not to be able to call someone.

There should be a list of banned words, or words and phrases that are often overused: power, protect, save, curse(d), fault, ~ needs you. ~I~ need you., Together. *meaningful pause*, You can fight this., glowy eyes = evil, suicidal self-sacrifice, not perfect but real, family, I beliiiiieve in you., force, darkness...

Sorry, but using a quote from one of the strongest moments of Blood of Elves in completely different situation will NOT give you extra points. Quite contrary. This is how you ruin one of he best parts of the books- by holding a sword to your SO's (who's been through some serious shit) neck.

Honorable mention of Emhyr var AnotherDumbVillain, for publicly proclaiming Ciri’s his daughter ...now the whole Nilfgaard knows what he wants. Stupid and the easiest way to let his enemies’ spies know just HOW much is she valuable.

Things I liked about this season: Tris and Ciri's meeting, Vereena, Yenneskíer chemistry

If there’s one thing second season of The Witcher taught me, it’s “Keep your expectations low, you’re gonna be let down anyway.”.

#The Witcher (TV series) #season 2 #Blood of Elves #Philippa Eilhart #Voleth Meir #Kaer Morons #Ciri of Cintra #Roach #Triss Merigold #Yennefer of Vengerberg #Rience #Emhyr var Emreis #q: Disturbance #V #parallels&references #Shadow and Bone #bad writing #TWN critical

[pikapeppa]

Hi! This isn't a request or anything like that, but I just finished the entirety of Chamomile and Gwent and I am filled with warm, happy thoughts about Geralt and his wifey! And I was thinking, since Geralt can't have kids anyway and Reader is also hinted to be unable to have kids, what if a few years later during their travels (maybe they're traveling for the holidays) they pass by a village that has been terrorized by monster attacks (in my head it's a werewolf that's exhibiting bizarre behaviour but that's just me) and as they investigate, they happen upon a baby (in my head it's a little boy) that's barely a year old, face scratched up but otherwise unharmed. Reader insists on caring for it alongside the village's very old midwife-slash-healer while they try to figure out what's happening and why it's happening. The child has been left an orphan because of the most recent attack and the people of the village are either superstitious and think they baby's a demon or they think its cries attracted the monster in the first place so for everyone's safety it needs to go somewhere else where it's safer and ta da! Geralt and Wife™ end up with a baby😂 I don't think I could ever write (and publicly post) this idea so I thought I'd share it with you instead if that's okay with you. At this point I think I'm more in love with the Reader in your story than Geralt LOL and every time she just gives her bleeding heart to anyone who's suffering I give my computer screen heart-eyes haha but I also love the idea of Geralt with a little boy! His relationship with Ciri is so beautiful and heartwarming to me but I can't help imagining him with a boy too! A little Vesemir Jr maybe lol. What do you think about this idea? I hope it's okay that I'm picturing the characters in the way you've written them in my head for this! I hope this made sense since English is not my first language and sometimes I'm not sure how to translate it from my mother language to English.. I've been reading your works on Ao3 much more regularly than looking at your Tumblr account since I don't use this website so I'm not sure I understand how to navigate it in case you have rules or guidelines for this blog. Apologies if I've overstepped!

OKAY THIS IS SO SWEET.

First of all, I'm so thrilled that you enjoyed Chamomile and Gwent, and I genuinely love the idea of people fantasizing about Geralt and Reader's future together and what you think it might look like! The fact that you basically came up with a whole story for how they might pick up a kiddo during their travels? HELLO I'M SO FLATTERED 😭❤🙏

I'll be perfectly honest, I'm not much a kid-fic writer, but this scenario is so sweet that I had to write you a little drabble -- see below the cut!

It’s a peaceful winter morning at Corvo Bianco. You’re warm and cozy in your bed, drifting in and out of a dreamy doze with Geralt’s warm naked chest pressed to your back, when you hear the distinct sound of the front door creaking open.

The sound of the door doesn’t disturb you, though. What disturbs you is the loud and slightly-sarcastic voice that follows. “Yoo-hoo. Honey, we’re home.”

A second, deeper voice follows. “Shut the fuck up, Lambert. They might be sleeping.” 

“Not anymore,” Geralt groans, and you know why he’s disgruntled: the voices in the hall have roused the child who was, until moments ago, sleeping soundly in the cot beside the bed. 

He’s awake now, though — awake and starting to fuss. You throw back the blankets and sit up, but Geralt is quicker than you: the child is already in Geralt’s arms, his whimpering quieted to a happy coo as Geralt bounces him gently and pats his diapered bum. 

“See, there you go,” Geralt murmurs soothingly. “Nothing to fuss about. Not until you see Lambert and Eskel’s ugly mugs, at least.”

You tut playfully at him as you put on your dressing gown. “Don’t tell him that they’re ugly. All three of you are perfectly handsome, scars and all. All four of you, I should say,” you add, and you drop a kiss on the baby’s dark-haired head. 

You reach for the door, but before you can open it, Geralt touches your waist. “Hey,” he says. “Where’s mine?”

“Your what?” you say in surprise. 

“My kiss.”

You shoot him a grin, then pop up on your toes and plant a kiss on his bearded cheek. “Apologies, master witcher. How could I have forgotten?”

He smirks and gives your butt a tiny spank, and you grin cheekily at him before opening the bedroom door. “Welcome home, boys!” you say, and you hurry over to kiss Lambert on the cheek. 

“Hey,” he says, with a pat to your back. “So this is the brat, huh?”

Eskel scoffs. “Real nice, asshole.”

“Eskel, language,” you scold.

He grimaces. “Sorry, sorry. Gonna take some getting used to.”  

You smile and kiss him on the cheek before turning to Geralt. “May I?”

“Sure thing,” Geralt says. “All right, Ves, your mom’s got you now.”

Ves burbles happily and reaches for you, and Eskel raises his eyebrows. “Ves? That’s his name?”

“Yeah,” Geralt says. “Short for Vesemir.”

Lambert scoffs and folds his arms. “You guys are soft.” 

“I think it’s a great name,” Eskel says.

You smile at him, then rub Ves’s back. “These are your uncles, little wolf,” you say softly. “Uncle Esky and Uncle Lamby.”

Geralt chuckles and Eskel grins, but Lambert’s expression is surprisingly serious, and his golden witcher’s eyes are on the baby’s face. He studies Ves’s face for a moment, then sighs and shakes his head. “Damn. He got fucked up good, huh?”

He’s referring to the wicked-looking scars on the right side of Ves’s face — long and ragged scratch marks spanning from his forehead down to his jaw: the souvenirs of a terrible wound took Ves’s right eye, but spared his life. 

Eskel grunts. “Yeah, he’s gonna fit right in with us someday.”

“Yes, he will,” you say firmly. “He’s going to be brave and strong like you boys, and just as handsome as all of you. But hopefully with better manners than some,” you say sweetly to Lambert. 

He smirks. “Ah, fuck off.”

“Language,” Eskel and Geralt say.

You laugh, and Lambert’s smirk widens. He rubs the back of his neck, then gestures to you. “Ah, what the hell. I’ll hold the kid.”

You carefully hand him over to Lambert, who holds him rather awkwardly. Ves giggles and pats his face with enthusiasm, and Lambert wrinkles his nose. “Hey, buddy, watch who you’re throwing hands at.”

“He’s got the right idea, throwing hands at you,” Eskel says with a grin. “Here, hand him over.”

“I just got him,” Lambert complains. “Wait your turn.”

Ves burbles happily and tugs on Lambert’s witcher medal. Eskel edges closer and tickles his chubby neck, making him squeal with laughter, and Geralt sidles closer to you and drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Never thought I’d see these two making a fuss over a baby,” he murmurs. 

You smile and wrap your arms around his waist in a loose embrace. In truth, having a baby wasn’t something you had ever expected, either. But if your life with Geralt has proven anything, it’s that the best things can have a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect them. 

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt/reader #geralt x you #geralt/you #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher 3 #tw3 #pikapeppa writes

[on-a-lucky-tide]

alright, so "just one bed"! for the fanfic tropes

Now, Akhuna, my dear. You have unleashed a small, caffeine-addled demon with this ask. Because the way it is often approached in our beloved shared fandom? Graded U. It doesn't do it for me. Here's why.

In the Witcher, specifically, with its medieval/early modern aesthetic with occasional smatterings of anachronistic scientific theory/technology, the "just one bed" trope causes me a bit of cognitive dissonance. I know the Witcher isn't intended to be set in medieval/early modern Europe, but the costuming, the setting, the dynamics of their society, etc. It feels like that time period, so that brings me to a point.

In the medieval and early modern period, sharing a bed was not a big thing.

In fact, it was expected.

Whole families would sleep in one bed, because the bed was often the most expensive thing in the house and all but the very richest could only afford one. People were expected to share communal beds with strangers in inns, and my favourite example comes from as late as 1776 when Thomas Jefferson and John Adams famously shared a bed and spent the whole time bickering about the open window and blankets.

Communal sleeping wouldn't be unusual for Geralt, Lambert, Eskel, Jaskier, etc. But you could add a Witcher flair to the trope?

Perhaps Witchers aren't allowed to share communal sleeping areas because they're diseased/ostracised, etc. So, the first few years on the Path are extra hard, because they're used to the communal sleeping arrangements of Kaer Morhen. They're cold. Uncomfortable. But then, the first time Dandelion drags Geralt into the communal bed with a "don't be silly, Geralt, it's too bloody cold for this idiocy", and Geralt gets to curl up in the warm and have a good night's sleep? Because Dandelion is at his back and keeping him safe?

Or, or, maybe Geralt wants to communally sleep but the smell and sounds are too disruptive. Humanity smells different to a Witcher. He can't handle it, and Dandelion worries about Geralt out in the cold. One of Dandelion's fondest memories of his first visit to Kaer Morhen was watching Geralt get to bundle in with his family and properly sleep rather than the half-arsed meditation he did on the Path.

I just think "there was only one bed" could pull a lot more weight than we let it, when it's properly woven into the context of the story and characters we're applying it to, you know?

Anyway, much love. Thank you for the ask.

#asks #trope game #only one bed

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

28 from the prompt list for jaskier/eskel please?

28. pressing their foreheads together

Here's some Jaskel set during season 2 in that ambiguous time between when Jaskier and Ciri got to Kaer Morhen and when Geralt and Yennefer arrived, featuring alive!Eskel. (I picture game!Eskel, but feel free to imagine the Eskel of your choice.) Warning for allusion to permanent injuries.

The first thing Jaskier does when he arrives at Kaer Morhen with Ciri and the dwarves—after he introduces himself to the witchers he’s heard so much about over the past two decades and gives them a quick explanation of the situation—is seek out Eskel. Geralt told him a bit about what happened with the leshen during their journey from Oxenfurt to Cintra, but in their hurry to get to Yennefer and Ciri, there was little time to go into the details. And while Geralt assured Jaskier that Eskel is fine, Jaskier still needs to see for himself.

He knocks on the door of the room Lambert directed him to. After a moment, there comes a call of, “Come in.” At first, Jaskier doesn’t recognize the low, scratchy voice, because it sounds nothing like Eskel’s familiar deep rumble. Then the voice speaks again. “Come in, songbird.”

Jaskier pushes open the door to find Eskel sitting up in bed, peering at Jaskier with the drowsy expression of someone who just woke up. He’s thinner than he was when Jaskier last saw him, his hair longer and disheveled. When he smiles, it only emphasizes the way his beautiful golden eyes are hollow with tiredness. Jaskier was about to launch himself into Eskel’s arms, but he pauses in the doorway, suddenly uncertain.

He first met Eskel about five years ago, when he and Geralt ran into the other witcher while traveling through Kovir. Jaskier was instantly smitten and liked to think that the feeling was reciprocated. He and Eskel met up a handful of times in the intervening years, spending a night or two at a time holed up in the room of an inn together. Eskel stopped by Oxenfurt a couple of times to visit Jaskier and they even spent two marvelous weeks traveling through Temeria together, with Eskel accompanying Jaskier to a handful of music festivals.

But they haven’t seen each other since before that disastrous dragon hunt. Eskel was supposed to come to Oxenfurt that previous autumn, but Jaskier wrote to him with an excuse about being too busy with classes. He found that he couldn’t bear to be rejected by another witcher, to learn that Eskel thought as little of him as he was sure Geralt did. With the benefit of hindsight, Jaskier can see how unfair he was to a man who had been nothing but kind to him. He wouldn’t blame Eskel for not wanting to see him.

“What are you doing here?” Eskel asks, but there’s no anger in the words, just a certain guardedness that breaks Jaskier’s heart a little.

“Geralt sent me with Ciri.” Jaskier doesn’t move from his spot in the doorway. Eskel looks fragile, like he might break if Jaskier tries to touch him. “He and Yennefer are off hunting a demon. Or maybe a goddess? I’m not sure, a lot happened and I couldn’t quite keep it all straight.”

Eskel nods, seemingly unfazed. "You okay?"

“Besides smelling like I’ve been on the road for a week and spent a week in prison before that, I’m fine.” Jaskier smiles shakily.

“In prison?” Eskel’s eyebrows draw together in concern.

“It’s a long story.” Tentatively, Jaskier steps inside the room and closes the door behind him. “Geralt told me you were injured.”

“You can say that,” Eskel says. “I’d come hug you, but I think I overdid it helping Vesemir this morning.”

That’s what breaks through Jaskier’s hesitation. Because he may not know all the details of what happened to Eskel, but he knows that the man he loves came far too close to dying. And all the while, Jaskier was holed up in Oxenfurt, feeling sorry for himself. His last communication with Eskel could have been a perfunctory note lying about his workload.

Jaskier closes the distance between them. Eskel holds out his arms to him and Jaskier walks right into his embrace, sinking down onto the bed. Eskel smells just like he always did—like leather and campfires, though there’s the bitter tang of the salve witchers apply for sore muscles. Jaskier buries his face into the crook of Eskel’s shoulder and clings as tightly as he can without risking hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier says.

Eskel squeezes him gently. “What are you sorry for, songbird?”

Jaskier doesn’t answer, just clings a little tighter. Because maybe if he hadn’t been a coward and told Eskel not to come to Oxenfurt, maybe Eskel wouldn’t have been passing through that forest where he encountered the leshen. Maybe Jaskier would have been with him. Maybe—

“What happened?” Eskel takes Jaskier’s injured hand in his, turning it over to examine the healing burns on his fingertips.

Jaskier grimaces and straightens up. “Had an encounter with a bastard of a mage in Oxenfurt. It’s a long story.”

Eskel frowns. “Sure we have a human-safe ointment around.”

“It’s nothing.” Jaskier pulls his hand away. “What happened with the leshen? Geralt said something about an infection—”

“That’s also a long story.” A ghost of a smile flickers across Eskel’s face. “I’m glad you’re here, Jaskier.”

Jaskier closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Eskel’s, reveling in the familiar warmth of his witcher. “I’m sorry about Oxenfurt. I shouldn’t have told you not to come. But Geralt—”

“I know,” Eskel says. “Geralt told me about the dragon hunt. Are you two okay?”

“It’s all bygones. Any amends that still need to be made will certainly come about once I teach Ciri all the most annoying songs I know.”

Eskel chuckles, the sound rumbling through Jaskier. It’s the most beautiful thing Jaskier has heard in weeks.

Jaskier lets his eyes fall closed, pressing closer. “Eskel—”

“It’s okay.” Eskel cups his face in his hands. “Let’s talk about it later, songbird. Let’s just sit for a while.”

Jaskier has so many things he wants to say to Eskel. He wants to tell him why he told him not to come to Oxenfurt, exactly what was going through his mind. He wants to tell Eskel how he really feels, how much every moment they’ve spent together has meant to him. He wants to know exactly what happened with the leshen and tell Eskel the story of what happened with the fire fucker and the stint in prson that came after.

But Eskel is leaning against Jaskier like the press of their foreheads together is the only thing keeping him upright. If Eskel needs to just sit for a while, then Jaskier can just sit. They’ll have plenty of time for everything else.

“Whatever you need, love,” Jaskier whispers and just lets himself be with the man he loves.

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @mosaicscale @tsukiwolf42 @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek

#the witcher #twn #jaskel #jeskel #eskel x jaskier #eskel/jaskier #eskel #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

[eredins-a-king-aint-he]

Tfw three best friends go on a nice tropical vacay to unwind and one of them just HAS to bring his creepy boyfriend who also happens to be a fucking age-old soul-eating demon🙄

Dialogue under cut

Lambert: We’re going over 15 knots right now, how the fuck is he still standing? He’s not even swaying!

Eskel: Be quiet Lambert, he can probably hear you.

Geralt: Shut up, both of you— he can hear a mouse rip ass a hundred miles away and tell you exactly what it ate for breakfast yesterday.

#cedar doodles #gaunter o'dimm #the Witcher 3 #modern au #I was in the mood for a silly doodle this morning #and this happened

[fangirleaconmigo]

You’re right. About TNW Eskel he did imply he’d fuck Ciri.

Consider me horrified.

Yes and my thing is

For the “we know who Eskel is, it was just the leshy infection talking” to make sense, Geralt wouldn’t be just getting him to calm down. He (AND VESEMIR) would be hog tying him and dragging him to the lab to figure out what the fuck was going on.

I mean Eskel is the guy who, in the books, was furious at Lambert for JUST LOOKING at Triss’s boobs in an obvious manner. And whenever Lambert was trying to get on her nerves, Eskel was mortified. (And look, for some of that…ok for a lot of that…I was on Lamberts side, but still) Eskel was so uncomfortable with rudeness. When he criticized Triss he said it “calmly” and couched it with things like “with respect”. ETA: HE BOWED LOW AND KISSED HER HAND LIKE THE GENTLEMAN HE IS!! Like WHAT??

Like. If THAT guy had gotten a bunch of sex workers black out drunk and said THAT about a little girl (not even a grown woman) it would be like *record scratch* what the fuck have you done with Eskel??

And everyone would have seen it from the start. They would have thought he was demon possessed lmao. So. Idk. It wasn’t just that they were telling a story I didn’t like. It was also that they were doing it poorly. (And trying to justify it after the fact in ways that just don’t make sense)

#asks #eskel #twn critical #i know it’s almost been a year #but this is the first time people have asked me what I thought #i don’t really share if no one asks #because I’m like…who needs my opinion??? #but if someone asks then #at least one person does

[exitpursuedbyasloth]

“I don’t know why so many people are doubtful/suspicious of the Jaskier/Radovid romance”

idk, maybe because in canon Radovid is either 12 years old or Medieval Mussolini who partakes in witch-burning and genociding non-humans? So what reason did the writers have to chose HIM of all people to romance with Jaskier? Did they see a little boy and think “Jaskier needs to fuck him”, or did they see a racist fascist asshole and think “Jaskier needs to fuck him”, cause it’s one of the two. Those are the only two options, cause as doubtful as I am of the talent of the Witcher writers/showrunners, I don’t think they just picked Radovid’s name out of a hat (it’s possible, but doubtful). That being said, the smooth-brained mooncalves on the writing team don’t really have the best track record (Eskel and almost everything with Kaer Morhen in general, Yenn trying to sacrifice Ciri to a demon-thing, etc) so why should we assume they’re not also going to do something awful here? Maybe people don’t like it cause we don’t like the prospect of a gay romance somehow being retconned as the cause of Radovid’s villainy? There are lots of reasons. Mostly the Medieval Mussolini stuff, tho.

#Jaskier #Radovid #Jaskier/Radovid #Jaskier/Radovid critical #The Witcher #The Witcher netflix #RADOVID IS A PIECE OF SHIT IN CANON OR HE'S A CHILD #neither makes any sense for a genuine romance with Jaskier #the possibility that the writers will have Jaskier dumping Radovid be a cause for his genocide is one of the most disgusting possibilities #Jaskier especially has no reason to genuinely trust Radovid #He and other Redanian official already expressed interest in getting Ciri #I could see Jaskier trying to play/manipulate Radovid but that's about it

[eskelwolfed]

I wanted to keep quiet about this since I have a paragraph on smut in my rules, but I guess I have to be very direct about it once more.

I love smut. I love writing it, I love reading it, I love it when a story is 90% smut and 10% plot. I'm so super comfortable with smut happening, that's why I have a multimuse that's smut centric and I literally have a succubus OC. You can't play a succubus if you're uncomfortable with smut.

BUT ladies and gentlemen and fellow enbies,

that doesn't mean we have to write it if we're active partners. You want a story driven plot? Gimme. You like to fade to black? Alright! You need some time to open up and be comfy with smut? VALID. You're ace, sex repulsed, hyposexual or WHATEVER and you just don't want to write smut? VALID AS HELL GUYS.

Just don't -- don't shame me for being a lover of filth. Don't act like you're holy, because smut is a rare thing for you. Don't put yourself on a pedestal and preach how you need a "connection" or "chemistry" to ship or write smut.

BECAUSE guess what. I'm the same. Sometimes I don't feel the smut. Sometimes just throw your muse at mine and they be fucking in reply no.3. It doesn't matter really! As long as we vibe and respect another! I can write 90% plot and feelings and 10% smut OR LEAVE IT OUT COMPLETELY. I'M A SKILLED WRITER Y'ALL. I'm doing the tango since I'm 14 years old!

We all roleplay for the fun of it, or as an escapism or exploring something you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole in your own personal sexual expression. ALL OF THIS IS VALID. It doesn't matter why you RP, but it matters how you treat your partners, especially when you have different opinions about smut.

I'm allosexual and queer and yes, for fuck's sake, I'm sex positive and I'm ship positive and some of my muses are hella promiscuous. If you demand respect for your choices, you'll have to learn respect other people's choices, too. It's that simple.

Also btw, since the old reblogs confused some of you:

Eskel is not gay. Eskel is not Geralt shipping only. Eskel is not hypersexual.

He was planned that way, because ep. 2.02 broke me, guys. I wanted him to have a happy ending obviously. When I started writing him I did not have in mind to make him my primary muse. But I got so entangled with him, I love him so much, he just became what he is now.

Eskel is pan- and demisexual, I ship him with boys and girls and enbies, I ship him with human characters, with elves, werewolves, demons... but even the amount of sex he has -- you have to keep in mind that all of the threads are technically starting off a 'clean slate'. Means, when he meets a girl and he hasn't felt for a girl in AGES, he'll be surprised, because he is mainly still a little more attracted to men - every thread will handle the connection he has as unique. He has like half a dozen verses, but in every thread it basically starts off in a different timeline.

I still ship him with Geralt, but man, all the amazing OCs of my partners? *chef's kiss* and even though they never met canonically (in the show), right now I'm much more enamoured by Jaskier/Eskel. I love the potential angsty ship Lambert/Eskel.

In my opinion, he indeed shifted from being very hyposexual on the spectrum to the middle.

I started playing him as a massive submissive bottom, and that's still his usual preference with male partners, but he can also take the lead.

Overall, characters aren't written in stone. The longer you write a canon character, the more he becomes "original" as you drop stuff you don't like about the canon portrayal, etc. And we all agree that Witchers are horndogs, right? They're canonical horndogs. ALL OF THEM.

AND ANOTHER THING just because I'm a massive smut slut I'm not less of a skilled writer of what happens inside a character (and I'm not talking about the penetration here). Angsty-Shippy threads can have a much more in depth character building and analysis than a monster killing thread.

This is the very last time I'll speak about this. I'll add a statement to my rules and everyone who follows me and comes complaining about Eskel or any of my other muses being "sex crazed" will just get a block. I'm tired of being shamed for enjoying smut.

#cw rant #.⚔ — 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬.