CrowleyFry

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[crowleyellestair]

Rain - Eskel blurb

AN// / just something I wrote to avoid doing important things. I hope you like it! This isn’t as angsty or tooth-rotting as most of my stuff, but I wanted to write it. Just an average crappy day with a soft payoff

Much love

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Eskel x f!reader (she/her only used like 5 times but nothing else defining)

Not beta’d

Rain wasn’t a traveler’s friend. Sure, it can be picturesque, stave off heat and even save lives from time to time. Velen rain, however, is a completely different beast with a vengeful heart of its own. For days the skies have been dark and showering the land with heavy storms. They’ve been tolerable enough for hiking and inn bouncing, but once Y/n and Eskel found a job, the game had changed.

A mysterious flying creature, that had been picking off local children, brought the couple on a wild chase. Every victim had a different disappearance point and no witnesses. With one in town, and two in a local clearing, there were practically no leads.

“The rain has washed away most of the evidence.” Eskel huffed. He was crouched over the wheelbarrow the latest victim had. People had left the latest scene the same as to not tamper with the scene for when help finally arrived. It was a great sentiment most towns don’t have, but the weather doesn’t care for the convenience of man. A gloved hand clasped the Witcher’s shoulder, the grip feeling light through the rain cloak, armor, and gambeson. Warmth couldn’t have transferred through the touch, but a small part of his chest warmed. The annoyance that painted a grimace on his features died down, though not completely. When Y/n knelt down, however, and more of her body heat began to seep into his side, patience started to overtake him.

“What’s the diagnosis? Or any ideas on what it could be?” The hunter noticed the effort put forth to make her tone sound more playful and optimistic. Though, on her features, brows were knitted, and a frown brandished. Her eyes wouldn’t pick up nearly as much as his could, though she still raked over every inch of the scene with her eyes. Any hope for finding answers here was quickly dwindling in her eye. Eskel’s body moved with his deep inhale, a raspberry leaving him towards the end of his exhale. His knuckle met his eyebrow, the hand brushing it gently. He sat in thought before looking to his companion.

“Nothing here will help us.” Their faces mirrored the other as their lips drew into tight lines, and eyes began searching the other. Minutes pass and more rain falls, Y/n being the first to move. Her hand dropped from his shoulder before reaching into her small notebook. She flipped to the latest used page.

“’Terrible squawking’ and ‘dogs going crazy’ gives us something though, right? What do we know that squawks and disturbs animals? A cockatrice, slyzard, griffin-?” Eskel looked back into her gaze, trying to solve the puzzle as though it resided in her eyes.

“But what about the girl in town? Something that flies would be too noticeable. Animals can be spooked by anything. ‘Squawking’ isn’t what I’d call whatever noise Nekkers make, but it could fit the bill to an untrained ear.” The human filed away the small notebook and stood, holding out her hand for her companion. He takes it, though doesn’t fully drop the hand. They stood close enough to have hands and arms brushing at every movement. Eskel wasn’t one for PDA, and this certainly wasn’t the right time for it, but the gravitational pull between the two was too powerful to ignore. Despite not seeking touch, he was calmed to stand this close, fingers only intwining in passing. He hoped his companion felt the same and was always assured when she never pulled away.

“But don’t they travel in large packs? What leads mindless creatures to start coordinating and pull off a series of kidnappings?” There was a slight tinge of sass, some normality brightening the small space between them. In that moment, the rain didn’t matter, as Eskel’s small smile brightened Y/n’s entire vision. The Witcher replied in kind with sass,

“It’s as likely as a large creature flying into town square and only a dog noticing.” The argument had continued. In the end, they had decided to split up. Both creatures lead them into the woods, though from there, two options laid before them. While the Witcher could face whatever he found, they had agreed she would fire a whistle arrow into the sky to alert her of finding whatever it was.

An hour into their search, and Eskel heard an arrow from the base of the large hill the forest surrounded. It didn’t take long for him to get there and noticed a cave at the base of the much larger than anticipated hill. Scratching around the narrow entrance pointing to large creature. Blood dragged against the ground with clumps of feathers painted many different pictures for the Witcher, enlightening him to some of the past victims’ fates. His eyes closed for a brief moment, sensing a heartbeat inside the cave. Another, more human sounding one, came from a short distance away.

Once they met up, they got a plan together. Since the opening of the cave was small, it would be a dangerous fight. Both fighters knew they wouldn’t be able to lure it our of its home in this weather, but both would need to go in. The Witcher hated when they needed to fight together, Y/n being more of a ranged specialist that sat out of most things. It seemed for a moment, though, that everything was going to be great. The fight was easier than anticipated and there was much that could eb harvested from the remains.

During the fight, however, the rain had washed out their path back out of the cave. The easy decline of the cave entrance was easy to slide down, though in a matter of minutes it became a mud trap. Nothing either of the two tried was working. Traction couldn’t be found, and the rain continued to make the floor an aqueous safety hazard.

When all said and done, the two finally did arrive back to their inn room. Both had been practically silent since exiting the cave, anger and fatigue gripping them both. Once they had arrived, it was clear past dusk, and the innkeeper was not gracious enough to fill a bath. Mud filled boots and stained close were dumped into the empty tub for a future task, and Eskel used ingii to heat the large bucket of water they were allotted. Tension was palpable as they both washed down with towels, anger at the innkeeper fueling both into quick and silent wash downs. Neither cared to put more than smallclothes on, crawling into bed sounding more appealing.

Eskel laid with this back to the bed, Y/n laying slightly on top, head tucked under his chin. She went limp, starfish sprawling over him and the bed. One hand found his though, and her fingers gently slid between his, interlocking them. The skin to skin contact of their stomachs gave enough warmth to where there was no need for a blanket. Their heartbeats started to sync despite the speed differences, their breaths in time as well. They still didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. The day was long and rough, but at the end of the day, they had each other.

On the path, life wasn’t always glitz and domestic, heartfelt moments. Luckily, they both had love to guide them to peace.

[crowleyellestair]

Helll, I just found you blog and I love your Witcher content! Can I request Eskel being a softie for his so and the other witchers teasing him about it?💛

Heyo Hiyo! Sorry this took a while but life just happens. Thank you so much for requesting! This is disgustingly fluffy. I hope you like it, even though it's a bit loose on the 'teasing' part. Sorry If I missed any errors -- Much Love!!

No warnings - gn!reader

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Blueberries.

The bane of Eskel's existence. As someone who couldn't afford to hate, the intense distate for the small barries was shocking. It's one of the only topics that could get him riled in a conversation, stepping out of his normally calm and collected state.

"I know it's a bit hypocritical of me to judge, but tell me, what's one thing they have that isn't trumped by any other fruit?" Of course, it's said in a tone that only Lambert really cares to use. One that begs you to argue so it can be proven right. One ready to fight. By the end of his spiel, he's usually at the edge of his seat, fire burning behind his eyes and looking ready to pounce. It is quite the spectacle.

So, when Geralt stalked by his brother's room, he was shocked into a petrified state. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, of course. Y/n sat at the desk, one hand holding a quill to parchment. Their other was grabbing a thawing strawberry that Eskel handed them. He was relaxing between their legs pointed towards the fireplace. On his lap, a plate of frozen fruit from the enchanted icebox that saves provisions year round. Harsh gold eyes watch as Eskel plops a blueberry into his mouth. He almost laughs at the half hidden look of annoyance seconds afterwards.

Eskel looks to the door in curiosity, sensing his presence simply standing. Geralt is set into motion when an ever silent-footed Lambert shoves him from behind.

"Get a move on ass-face. You're taking up the entire hallway." Eskel snorted, repeating "ass-face" in a questioning tone. The White Wolf simply pointed as Eskel absent-mindedly popped another berry into his mouth. Lambert had followed the finger in time to see it. The action put him into a stupor as well. Eskel's brows drew together, frown accompanying them. The two could sense his annoyance at the breaking of the calm atmosphere. Eskel looks down at his shirt and pants, looking back to his brothers slightly more annoyed. It was only a hand gently coming into view when he shifted attention.

"Strawberry please." Without verbal response, he placed the Strawberry into the open palm. Y/n quickly placed it in their mouth, and went back to their business. The boys had quirks, and weird situations like this occur all the time, so this was nothing special to a spectator. It was only Lambert's loud but shocked voice spewing a new fact that drew Y/n in.

"You hate blueberries." Y/n's eyes snap to the divided bowl of only strawberries and blueberries. For a moment, Y/n was embarrassed. Three years of being companions and something more, and they had no idea. It had never come up, now that they rack their brain. Eskel liked being in charge of the meal, finding cooking to be a calming task. Up to this point, they had only been asking for the strawberries simply due to the size of them. Whoever was the tender should be proud in their growing skills.

Eskel shrugged. One of the knees he sat between jostled his shoulder gently. He tilted his head back, but didn't turn, only realizing now how embarrassed he is that his secret was out.

"You don't like blueberries? Why didn't you say so?" He shrugged again casually, starring at the ceiling. He couldn't bring himself to look in anyone's direction. The entire top half of his body moved as he sighed.

"You haven't asked for blueberries yet, so I assumed you wanted the strawberries." Y/n smiles, and it could be heard clearly in their voice.

"Yes, but if you hate blueberries, I would have eaten them." Eskel's heart skips a beat for a moment before responding. Though, out of embarrassment, it had a tinge of sass that didn't come from anywhere but the heart.

"Well, what if /you/ hate blueberries?" Y/n's entire being buzzed with affection.

"You know I don't hate them." It was true, he knew they were fond of the fruit just as much as any other. As if trying to end the conversation and save his pride, he reset himself to how he was before the cat got out of the bag.

"You want strawberries right now. Blueberries won't kill me," he states oh so matter-of-factly. Lambert was about to pass out in his spot. That was the same line Vesemir has fed him every year when he refuses to eat deserts the old Witcher has made using them. Geralt snort's with so much force that it almost hurt just to listen to. The white haired hunter simply grabs his younger brother by the arm, dragging him away from the door.

Y/n lets their hand fall open, just like before. With a light tone, they ask,

"Blueberries please?" Without hesitation the brunette tries to place a strawberry in their hand. The human sets down the quill, one hand grabbing the fruit, the other, his hand. With as much care as possible, Y/n bring's his hand to meet halfway to their now bent over form. Their lips brush against his open palm before guiding it back to where the hand was hanging prior. Eskel doesn't turn, but he couldn't. He felt like the smile he wore would seem manic. He popped another blueberry into his mouth, content for once to eat the fruit. Love, hot on his tongue, finally making the fruit taste fine.

[crowleyellestair]

Hello my dear! I just read the Gwent fic with Lambert and I was curious if you would write a second part? I loved it and the ending made me curious about what might happen the next morning with Lambert talking to Jaskier, the other witchers reactions to lambert losing his clothes in the game etc. I would love to read it! Thank your for sharing your wonderful writing!

Thank you!!!! I have posted it here . I really hope you like it

[crowleyellestair]

Gwent 2- Witcher Lambert

Request: “Hello my dear! I just read the Gwent fic with Lambert and I was curious if you would write a second part? I loved it and the ending made me curious about what might happen the next morning with Lambert talking to Jaskier, the other witchers reactions to lambert losing his clothes in the game etc. I would love to read it! Thank your for sharing your wonderful writing!”

AN//Thank you!!! I really hope you like this! It took me a bit to actually think of a plot, but I enjoyed writing it. Thank you very much for spending time reading and requesting! And double thank you for the kind words : ) Much love!

Lambert x F!reader (Game/books in mind, but no spoilers and can be replaced by Netflix Lamb ig)

Language warning?

Part 1 - can be read without but first part recommended

masterlist

Cards. Cards are everywhere. It was as if a Gwent elemental had formed, and Lambert had fought tooth, nail, and… shirt to keep it at bay. Eskel hadn’t even meant to stop, but the whirlwind that is Lambert distracted him from his morning goat duties. When the bulkier witcher finally made it to the table, there was a lot to take in.

His youngest brother had his trousers on, unlaced, with his shirt laying on the edge of the table. From what inventory Eskel could gather, Lambert’s entire collection laid out in unorganized piles around them. Some on the table, some on the bench. Brows rose when he noticed the smaller, haphazardly strewn about pile on the floor. Once, when Lambert caught Geralt doing the same thing, and the younger practically had a mental breakdown, going on about ‘card abuse’ and ‘disrespecting the game’. Their human friend’s cards laid in a nice pile, faced down.

“So, it went well last night?” He wasn’t really teasing. The large witcher was honest in not understanding the scene in front of him. Sharp eyes flew to his, a sour expression accompanying them. Before Lambert could form a response, a small epiphany flew over his features. Strong hands flew over card piles, quickly rearranging things. Finally, after a few minutes of silence cut by card movement, Lambert finally looked to his brother.

“Why don’t you go entertain the one thing that actually wants you here?” Eskel’s eyes rolled before looking back down at the piles, still trying to find the logic in them. He knelt down by the pile on the floor, fingers gently tapping them around to see them all.

“You do know women don’t find an innate need to beat them at cards charming? Maybe-.”

“When you actually find someone, then I’ll listen. All courting knowledge you have is from those dumb books you haul back every year.”

“Wow, look at this.” The bard’s voice cut the two witchers short. His slimmer frame found itself across the table from the young witcher, arms resting around Y/n’s deck that lay there. Geralt quietly slides in next to him, steady hand reaching for said deck.

“Finally, someone I can talk to!” All eyes flew to his form in shock. Eskel’s hands also went up slightly in mock offense. Jaskier looked bashful for once, but excitement bubbled in his eyes. If it was what he was hoping for, winter is about to get so much more fun. Geralt was looking at Eskel, smirk on his face before looking back to Lambert. Said man was looking to him, eyes showing betrayal. “Geralt. You’re better than that.” The White Wolf’s body seized and froze.

“What?”

Lambert’s finger jabbed in the direction of Geralt’s held out hand. His fingers where barely grazing Y/n’s deck but to Lambert it was like spitting on it.

“You don’t look at other people’s deck, dumbass. It’s rude.” There was a single moment of silence before laughter erupted around him. Lambert grumbled under his breath before looking to his cards. Once the poet across from him settled down, Lambert looked to him once more. “Buttercup and I have some private business.” Eskel scoffed, looking up from his still crouched position near the floor cards.

“We’d be more inclined to leave if you just asked.” Lambert remained seated, but he twisted his upper body to face his older brother.

“I’d be more inclined to shove my foot up your-.” Again, the poet’s voice cut their conversation short.

“Lambert, I would love to hear what you have to say.” Blue eyes flew to Eskel, and his elbow gently jabbed the wolf that lingered close to his side. Geralt grumbled but he stood. He meandered his way towards the kitchens mentioning grabbing breakfast for himself. Eskel was still hesitant, ready to tease the younger witcher more, but the bard’s eyes were pleading. The large witcher sighed, conceding only for Y/n’s sake. He knew how much the human yearned, and he only wanted her to be happy. Even if it was with a fool like his little brother.

Once Lambert knew all other parties were out of ear shot, he nodded to the man across from him. The bard leaned back, motioning his hands in no certain direction, showing Lambert had the floor. A moment ago, he had all the courage and pride as his normal self, but now all he felt was vulnerability.

“Well, uh, obviously…” he trailed. He waved a hand in the air as though it would conjure the sentence for him. “You understand how courting works.” Jaskier had once again leaned over the table, trying to show his full attention was to this matter. Though, he wasn’t too helpful, as he simply agreed with the sentence. “So, that means you would know how one would go about beginning the process.”

“Another astute observation.” The bard took pity to the desperation behind those sharp, yellow eyes. He gave a small smile before leaning in even further, dropping his voice to just above a gentle whisper. “You already have her attention. More than that, it seems. Y/n isn’t a noble or some all-powerful sorceress.”

Lambert looked like he was at the edge of his seat, eyes beckoning him to continue.

“You have the freedom to court her however you see fit, really. You don’t need to worry about meeting families or failing to impress her. Simply prove your value in your relationship.” Lambert’s fingers rub against his hairline, trying not to get frustrated.

“But we aren’t in a relationship.” The bard nodded, showing that he was willing to sit and explain anything for the better of his friend.

“I understand, but you want to be. Show her what you would bring to the table. She knows the path is hard and dangerous. You would only have each other to rely on out there, and there needs to be trust and understanding in the other’s ability.” They sit in silence for a moment.

“That doesn’t sound romantic.” Even Lambert did a double-take to what had left his own mouth. At this point, there was no need to lie about what the witcher needed to know or was seeking. Jaskier gave a large grin.

“Just the act of giving, the thought that you cared enough to do something for her, should be enough. Like if you were cold, and Y/n went out of her way or sacrificed something so you could be warm. She is showing her value as well as showing she cares for your wellbeing.” Jaskier didn’t understand why or where the bashful look on Lambert’s face came from, but he could tell the witcher now understood. He gave one last smile and nod before standing. “Come back to me when you need help asking her to travel the path with you.” Before Lambert could stutter out a response, the bard all but skipped to the kitchens.

There Lambert sat, no other witcher or companion bugging him or his thoughts. Mentally, he was trying to compile a list of things to prove value. Then there was the subsection of ‘possibly romantic’ things of value. Another list was a recollection of needs she has voiced in the past. The witcher also wasn’t done compiling this new deck….

Y/n had gently walked in, trying to avoid any natural light that passed through the windows. Fatigue still lingered in her form, but Lambert was too focused on her to actually notice her presence.

“Still in only your pants?” Her voice was gentle, but the witcher flinched regardless. As his eyes met hers, everything sly or charming slipped his mind. All topics talked about with Jaskier had also departed, leaving his mouth flapping like a fish. His eyes went to look anywhere else before landing on the cards everywhere.

“I have a new deck!” He forced it out like a child showing his mother a cool worm they found. A smile spread as she sat where the bard previously was.

“Perfect. I need some practice in on my competition deck. The Passiflora is having one a few weeks into spring.” All of the time Lambert spent trying to calculate every move she made in response to his deck flew out the window. It seems like his strategy to try and predict her movements was a bust. His witcher senses started tingling when he felt air shifting around the corner at the edge of the hall. Jaskier stood, half hidden, brows raised. His eyes were wide, and arms gesturing frantically to Y/n. Lambert couldn’t make out too much of what the poet was mouthing, but he picked up ‘practice’ and ‘go for it’. Practice… Y/n needs to practice… Y/n needs to practice. She has a need, and she’s practically enlisted his help. Lambert could do that. He won’t win, but he would be a great dummy opponent. Lambert took another moment to gather himself before responded mechanically and hesitantly.

“If you need practice… I would..love..to…help you improve your game.” His eyes quickly darted to the bard for the moment, trying to ignore both their rapidly beating hearts. This time, the bard is mouthing ‘compliment’ with a thumbs up, and a wave of the other hand to continue. “Not that you need practice, cause you’re, uh, good at the game.” His voice trailed off at the end, his mental scolding and cringing starting before the sentence finished leaving his mouth. Lambert’s head was ducked slightly, and his eyes darted to hers through thick lashes. Y/n’s skin flushed, hands fiddling with her own deck sitting on the table. A smell of warmth and joy wafted from her in waves, and Lambert tried desperately to keep his smile inwards.

“Perfect. I was going to help Vesemir in the greenhouse, but would you be free to play this afternoon?”

“Of course.” He, in fact, wasn’t. The young witcher promised to help with repairs, as he took yesterday afternoon off as well. Lambert was mentally preparing himself to ask his brothers to cover for him, though he knows there will be some form of hell to pay. In the grand scheme of things though, he would spend more time with his favorite human, and that’s all that matters.

[crowleyellestair]

Eskel Blurbs 2

AN/// Here’s another one. Some people seemed to like the other, so here I am! Check out my masterlist, I’ve written quite a few full fics for Witcher, so check them out : )

Part 1 – Eskel Blurbs

masterlist

--X----

People bustled about outside of the inn, muted footsteps tuned out over an hour ago. bodies littered few and far between below the Witcher’s shared room, none coming near the room itself. Overall, it was quite peaceful. His muscles worked through a familiar pattern, the mindless moving of the whetstone adding to the calm. The wolf’s companion had set out through the market before he had started, and only recently did he finally reacclimate to being alone. For a split moment, minutes after the healer had left, the Witcher turned to empty air after expecting a reply.

It was a shocking realization. With all of his heightened senses, noting objects and people around him was easier than breathing. Eskel had simply… expected Y/n to be there. He was quick to turn to sword repair, as the chore would be a great distraction from the embarrassing moment.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the clock, Y/n being one to take her time shopping. Months ago, when she had first suggested to go to market alone, he was silently thrilled. The Witcher hated the feeling of lingering eyes and unjust anger. Though, that relief was accompanied by fear after remembering how dangerous large city markets can be.

Y/n, however, is a grown adult. Eskel had no right or claim to her, and the Witcher constantly scolded himself for thinking otherwise. There was no reason to have his thoughts linger on her absence. Sure, they’ve traveled together for over half a year, but that doesn’t mean much to most. Even if it meant the world to him.

Eskel felt his heartbeat pick up just a fraction as he recognized the footsteps that ascended the stairs. His eyes darted around the room looking for anything that might make him seem ‘interesting’ before shocking himself out of that line of thinking. Look interesting? Oh, sweet Melitele. This was somehow a new low in the Witcher’s mind. That was something Lambert would think. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of being his younger brother before looking to his hands. He was a monster killing mutant who was sharpening a sword, he should already seem interesting!

The key was loud as it unlocked the door, and a firm kick pushed the door open. As the wolf watched, he was surprised she even unlocked the door with how full her hands were. The healer had emptied her bag to shove their large share of dirty laundry instead. Eskel could tell from the soft smell that the large bag on her shoulder’s was filled with finally clean clothes. A thin potato sack turned bag was bursting at the seams. Wrapped hard jerky was somewhere between some books towards the bottom, and glass vials on top. Other vegetables packed in around those items, the pressure just enough to keep everything in the sack ‘just so’. In her hands, Eskel’s steel sword, as well as some other just repaired weapons. It wasn’t until she fully stepped into the room that the Witcher noticed familiar ingredients gently laying in a gathering basket hanging from her other arm.

Healing was a difficult profession, and few can reach a level such as Y/n. The wolf was aware of her healing talents, which was the exact reason why he asked for her assistance all those months ago. Life has been long for the Witcher, but he was sure that despite Y/n’s shorter time, there was much to learn about her. So, for her to walk in with elixir ingredients, he was a bit taken back. He wasn’t sure how much Witcher information his brothers have divulged to others, but Eskel hadn’t said a word. He supposed he was the best out of all of them that could keep a secret, though he also suspected the scars helped. If no one comes to you for information, who do you have to tell?

“Market was packed. I’m glad we checked in on the smithy yesterday.” Slit-pupil eyes tracked every movement she made. Everything was set down and organized in a gentle manner as she prattled on about said market. By the time she was settled on the floor, she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the ingredients. With Y/n on the floor, the bed sat between them, and allowed Eskel to look around freely without suspicion. The basket laid gently by his bag that lay by the wardrobe. For a moment, he thought the items were just a coincidence. Y/n is a healer and is currently sitting on the floor refilling her own supplies. She never once makes a move towards it.

After a long mental debate, Eskel tries to get up as nonchalant as possible. His mouth feels somewhat dry, and his swallow is almost audible. As he spoke, he mechanically put away his things,

“Do you need anything from this basket?” Her head popped up like a prairie dog from the ground. Bright eyes shined in the bright orange light pouring from the window behind him. A small, calm smile was offered to him.

“No thanks. I saw that you were low on some things.” Y/n’s head slowly sunk back behind the bed before it shot up again, eyes this time widened by embarrassment. “Not that I look through your things!” A weird, humorless laugh puttered out at the end. She waved in the general direction of his armor, eyes flying back to whatever she was doing on the floor before popping back again. “I noticed that when you’re low on supplies, you don’t refill your pouch right away.”

The reason she knew why it was low this time was a painful one. Wights were old and rare, curses and hate bringing them to live. It had been powerful, feeding off large bears and elk for years. As well as any passer by unfortunate enough to be so far into the woods. To say he had received everything he gave was an understatement. The Witcher struggled to get back to Scorpion, let alone camp. It was only after the healer came to find him that he made it to safety. Eskel knew she would come somehow, and he counted his lucky stars she was suspicious. In any other case, he most likely would have tried to lecture her, as if he failed, she could have been hurt. In the end, he figured a simple ‘thank you’ would suffice. Y/n seamlessly peeled his armor off him that night, a few other close calls before giving her plenty of practice.

“I just guessed at what you needed, but I’m almost certain I got most things right. Maybe not with quantities, but it’s great quality. I can always run back in the morning before we leave.” Another smile was given to him before she disappeared again. The Witcher could tell she was cooking something with the small alchemy pot they had. Whatever it was, it smelled to be a very potent liquid. Eskel nodded to the open air, puckering his lips in thought for just a moment. He turned to the window as though the now setting sun would give him some answers. A hand came up, thumb brushing under his chin. It slowly slid up, so far, fingertips avoiding all scar tissue. Slowly, but less so gently, they scrubbed over the surface of his cheek, fingers barely getting caught by the unevenness. It stopped for a moment as he thought. His eyes traveled down to his bag, then back to the sun. When he came to, his fingers too resumed, though dropped quickly back to his side.

The Witcher had to dig to the bottom of the bag as he made up his mind. Despite remembering most things in life, Eskel made mistakes. That is exactly why he keeps a small, short-hand guide to all potions, essences, and bombs he has ever learned. When he finally found purchase on the pocket-sized book, he pulled, lucky that most things stayed in his bag.

The wolf moved as gently as possible around the bed, an entire little operation in front of him. When he knew he caught the woman’s eye, he flashed the book quickly before setting it down. It was at the edge of the workspace, almost like an offering made to an altar. Despite trying to pour hot liquid into one of their beakers, it seemed like her entire attention was on him. Though, that’s what it always felt like to him.

“We’re not supposed to hand these out, so…” Eskel tapered off. Why did he say it like that? “I mean, if anyone were to be trusted with Witcher secrets… It’s a book of my elixirs, and I thought maybe you’d want to look sometime.” By the time he was done, and he calmed himself from stumbling thoughts, he truly looked at her. What she was doing was discarded to the side. The healer listened intently, a look as if a great responsibility is now bestowed upon her. She gives a curt nod, tone firm and confident.

“I’ll keep it safe.” Her hand reached, grabbing onto it with such care, and it reminded Eskel of how she touches him. Small brushes to the hand here or there. The soft pressure while giving stiches or the gentle manhandling she’s capable of when helping him out of armor. Eskel tried to form the softest smile he could muster as they made eye contact.

“Thank you for the supplies.” He disengaged, but as he looked away, he could see the forming of a blush. It almost made him do a double take, just to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. What was the Witcher thinking? Of course his eyes were playing tricks on him.

---X---

“Women love me, okay.”

The woman’s lips pursed as she slowly left the room. Her eyes were wide, and brows raised in suspicion. Eskel tried to hide his smile, but any fraction of one becomes obvious with the cleft. He shifts over from his spot on the wall to standing next to his younger brother. A large hand reaches, clasping Lambert’s shoulder lovingly.

“It’s not love if you pay for it, bud.” Lambert ripped his shoulder from his brother’s grasp. His lips pulled back to a sneer, and a glare was thrown at the older wolf. Yellow freckled eyes traveled back to the hesitating figure in the doorway, Y/n waiting with a smirk. The healer slipped from the doorway to the corridor without closing the door.

Rage boiled, and Lambert’s finger jabbed the air, pointing to where the human just was. With his finger still raised, somewhat wagging disapprovingly, he stomped to the old oak. Once the door was within arm’s reach, he slammed it shut. The spry man turned, finger now pointing at his brother.

“You keep her in line.” During the stomping, Eskel took a seat on the chest at the edge of the bed. Eskel looked up, raising his hands up in defense. Lambert scoffed, rolling his eyes. He opened the door wide, hand waving to it. “I don’t want you here either.”

A deep rumble floated from the seated Witcher, and slowly came to a crescendo, head lolling back due to laughter.

-X----

“Months?” The healer’s voice was soft but congested. Winter was fast approaching, and the Witcher was just now dropping the news. He had waited until one of the last major cities before mentioning anything. Or rather, instead of waiting, he has only now found the courage. Eskel could look mothers in the eye to present passing of children or lonely spouses their lover’s body had turned up. For this, the Witcher looked everywhere but her eyes.

He could practically smell the sadness wafting from her. Despite what had grown between them over the year they’ve traveled together, he didn’t think he had any right to bring her to the fort. The tall adult nodded, head hung almost in shame.

“I’m not the only one, and I never had the opportunity to ask.” It was a lie pure and simple. Sure, he didn’t ask, but he was certain that if he did, they’d say no anyways. Despite being a fragile human in a den of Witchers, there are still many risks. Eskel trusts her, and that would mean a lot, but he needs to make sure of things first. Why does she really stay by his side? Looks, money, fame? Just the thought makes him cringe. He was a mutant with nothing. Why is she here?

[crowleyellestair]

Eskel Blurbs

AN/// I’m starting to do a same world/timeline collection of blurbs. Here are my first couple! Not beta’d but please enjoy my sleep deprived quick tales!

Eskel X reader fem!

masterlist

Pt.2 up!

Air forced its way from her lungs out into the cold corridor. The hot springs was still six doors down, but her legs refused to bring her any closer. Burning was familiar after a long day of walking, but after this morning, it has evolved. The burn crept through her core, into her chest, wrapping around her heart and legs. Muscles contracted in her shoulders, her back trying to work overtime to help her diaphragm drag in air. Abs could have formed with how intense the ache was in her stomach. Sweat dripped from her forehead, falling onto the already damp shirt. Stones on the wall the healer leaned on tried desperately to cool her, but to no avail.

After a moment of rest, Y/n finally was able to drag herself back into the middle of the hallway with the intent of bathing. All of the hairs on her arms stood as she felt a presence behind her, though her nerves were quickly smoothed. Then frazzled once more. Her gasping had brought in the familiar scent of hay, leather and that ethereal spice.

The healer’s eyes landed on Eskel’s large form making itself small. Hands hovered over her, hesitant to help. Molten gold churned in his eyes, along with worry as he watches her struggle to catch her breath.

“What were you doing?” Y/n tried desperately to pull herself together, throwing up a thumb over her shoulder to fill the silence. Once she straightened herself, the lovestruck woman tried to give her best nonchalant smile.

“Jaskier invited me to his ‘beauty jog’.” Scars pulled and tightened as his brows flew towards his hairline. Surprise lined the Witcher’s voice as he inquired,

“And you accepted?” A remorseful nod was given with an only slightly sarcastic,

“A mistake on my part.” The wolf chuckled, the notch in his lip making his small smirk look more feral to most. His arm hesitated, but still stuck out towards her, offering itself as a crutch. A small, bashful smile was shown in thanks and acceptance as her arm laced itself around his. He led her towards the baths, his eyes frequently flicking down to catch glimpses.

“Was running something you were hoping for? I assumed you’d prefer to rest through winter.” Embarrassment was clear in her demeanor, though she still answered truthfully.

“Well, the bard was very compelling…” Y/n paused, eyes raking along the stone walls. Or anywhere, really, that wasn’t Eskel. “He was mentioning a few contracts and I got to thinking. I’m there to support you, but how can I do that if I’m slow? You only have forty-eight seconds before melinaw sets in. Melinaw poison is common in the South! Now, I’m not saying you’d lazily stubble into a bush and get poisoned, but it’s a possibility.” At some point in her rambling, they had made it to the door. The wolf looked down with soft eyes, lovingly taking everything in.

Heat pours off her skin, along with the scent of her efforts. Sweat crusted on her forehead, blood still clearly pumping fast throughout her body. The healer’s eyes caught his staring.

“You would run for me? That is commitment.” His voice was somewhat teasing, but also held something so vulnerable. Hope, maybe. Her eyes drop to where Eskel’s heart resided; a small habit the Witcher had noticed a while back.

“Well, if that’s all I had to do to prove commitment, I would have run ages ago.” Tension built, Eskel swallowing hard. His free hand came up to his jaw, his thumb rubbing just under his chin for a moment. After rubbing away whatever fictional thing resided on his chin, he swallowed again, finding courage to respond.

“I would never ask you to.” It seemed the healer lost herself in the cat pupils the Witcher donned. They softened, giving almost a round shape. The black giving a sturdy island in the middle of golden tsunamis.

“Regardless…” she trailed. It didn’t need to be said, as she had said it a thousand times before in thousands of different ways. Eskel’s eyes snapped to the door, gently pulling Y/n out of the way. Loud footsteps approached, and Lambert appeared once the door was thrown open. As he stomped away, he threw back a jab at the two. The snip in his tone, steam rolling off his skin, and small towel all alluded to their conversation interrupting his bath.

“I’m glad I like running. It’s helping me get away from this boring-ass conversation. Maybe you should focus on practicing ‘saying what you mean’.” The older Witcher bristled for only a moment before silently wishing Y/n’s arm didn’t drop his own. Whishing her eyes would peer back up at his once her embarrassment leaves along with his younger brother. He clears his throat after a moment, once more grabbing his muse’s attention.

“I would run. For you, that is.” He gives a closed mouth smile, one he practiced for a long while. One he is convinced make him look ‘less frightening’, not realizing the healer’s love for all of him. The older man gave an almost imperceivable bow of his head before stepping back. “Enjoy your bath. It seems well earned.”

A thought lingered in his mind, something he scolded himself for not being able to verbalize.

“Runner or not, I trust and love you.”

-x-----

Nothing annoyed the feral Witcher more than being in the dark.

Lambert had picked up on Jaskier staring at Y/n a little over ten minutes ago. It seemed that he was the only Witcher in the room that had noticed, and it drove him crazy. The way everyone was positioned in the library, the youngest Witcher was the only one who couldn’t see what Y/n was doing. With her back facing him, he was having difficulty figuring out what was so interesting to the bard. This whole time, he had thought she was reading, as practically everyone else was.

With the rest of the fort being too cold, everyone converged in front of the library’s massive fireplace. Lambert was the closest to the flame; the fire practically kissing his back. He had Gwent cards splayed in front of him, but it seemed some of his space was taken by the bard’s foot. That’s what grabbed the wolf’s attention in the first place. Jaskier’s leg was outstretching slowly as his full attention was on the woman. Every few seconds, the brunet will hunch over his journal, furiously scribbling. Giddiness rolled off the poet in tidal waves, making the older man visibly gag. Jaskier had originally been seated upright next to Lambert, but it seems he had slowly inched his way to have Y/n’s face in view.

Y/n had been seated at one of the cleaner tables in the room. In reality, it was the only clean table in the room. Lambert had been the first one to hunker down. Eskel had wandered in a while later, minutes before his companion. The older wolf swiftly danced around the room, cleaning the books from the table in question, and putting them away. He sacrificed a rag in his pocket to the dust and grime that coated the top, and once it was clean, he still seemed put out. It was only until he quietly lifted the table and moved it the perfect distance away from the fire that he was satisfied. When finished, he flashed a look to Lambert. His eyes were torn between daring the young Witcher to say something and begging him to stay silent. To give mercy.

It ruffled his feathers in a way. Where was his mercy from the stifling lovefest? It’s not fair that the idea of ‘them’ is what everyone was focusing on this winter. Despite that, he swallowed his jests, and silently prayed that him being idle led to a quicker end of their dance.

She had wandered in after the large man plopped himself down on a couch on the far wall. Yen and Geralt had taken to talking on the couch, books open on their lap to keep up appearances. Vesemir fluttered around, seemingly only reading a couple chapters of a given book he picks up before placing it back on the shelf and finding a new one.

Nothing the lovestruck girl did was grabbing the attention of anyone but the bard. But why!?

Lambert gives in, tapping the musicians foot. The bard’s eyes snap to him, almost angry he’s being taken away from the show. A well-placed eyebrow and a pointed finger were all Jaskier needed to start explaining. Though, his response was just as simple. Eyes followed lute calloused fingers as they pointed from the healer at the table to the scarred Witcher. Oh.

Jaskier’s eyes flickered to the entity sitting next to him as he could hear the smirk form. Lambert mouths ‘daydreaming’, to which, he receives a nod. Lambert, too, splays out. He is so confident, that the young Witcher’s bravado caught the attention of the White Wolf. Then, in turn, Yen’s interest.

“Hey, uh, Y/n? You still want to play Gwent tonight?” His tone lazily hid his amusement, but to his pleasure, she didn’t notice. In fact, it seemed her answer was on autopilot. Y/n never backed down from Gwent, and it was the perfect distraction topic.

“Uh-huh.” Lambert finally noticed how she was seated. Her head was in one hand, perfectly angled to be reading with the older Witcher in the background. This was too easy. He preened as another autopilot answer was given to his next question.

“Great. I’ve got some new cards. Hey, isn’t he framed just perfectly in this firelight?” To the vagueness, everyone looked to the two of them. Eskel’s eyes flickered from his brother to Y/n as she gave a curt ‘yeah’. It took the large man’s wide, golden eyes for the healer to process what the Witcher said.

Y/n’s eyes go wide, embarrassment clear on her face. Her eyes fly to the table around her, and her hand mechanically goes to her forehead. With a shaky voice, she announces her departure

“Oh wow, would you look at that? It seems I’ve forgotten my cards back in my room.” The healer quickly snaps her book shut, stumbling out of her chair. To play it off, she turns back to the room, still shuffling backwards towards the door. A thumb is thrown up, pointing over her shoulder, giving her emphasis. “Back to the ol’ room. I’ll, uh, be back.” Y/n threw up a large grin but dropped it when the door is within arm’s reach.

The bard’s foot that was outstretched knocked at Lambert’s closest limb. Jaskier flashed a disappointed look, not voicing his opinion in the same room as Eskel. The young Witcher and bard have had multiple conversations about Eskel and Y/n; the poet begging Lambert to leave their friend’s relationship alone.

--X---

“Why does is it sound like you’re not expecting me back?” Eskel’s large form was framed perfectly in the doorway, the overcast throwing sludge snow towards the earth behind him. Her lips puckered, hands raising, as she lifted herself to her tiptoes. Ever so gently, Y/n brought Eskel’s hood to rest perfectly on his head.

“I trust your skills. Of course I trust you.” The looming figure kept his smile internal as her heartbeat confirmed the statement as true. The healer’s eyes drop, as well as her frame. Her hands hesitate before leaving the hem of the hood. Those same hands found their place upon her hips, then slithered together across her chest. Then, one raked through her hair, until she finally found her voice. “I don’t trust the elements. I mean, look out there! I bet you there isn’t anymore solid footing, and that is needed.” Pride, bashfulness, joy and love all swelled throughout the Witcher. He simply wished he had the confidence-no, the self-love needed to confess.

Golden eyes catch the light from the nearby torches as they intently look to the woman in front of them. He tried to convey everything he felt in that moment, hoping she understood that he feels the same way.

“I promise to be as vigilant, and as safe as possible. I will return.” She must have picked something up, and she responded with a nod and a somewhat satisfied smile. Y/n takes a small step back, as if reintroducing the rest of the world to their moment.

“Happy hunting.”

[crowleyellestair]

The Blame - Eskel

AN/ Heyo everyone! Here’s a little something I was doing while restless, and we need more Eskel content. I got the idea while scrolling through prompt lists, and I’ll link it here :)This was much longer than I anticipated, but I hope you enjoy

Fluff/angst/ angst resolution?

Eskel/fem!reader ---- not beta'd

masterlist

It was the warm hands she felt first; fingertips brushing lightly down her spine. Then it was weather-dried lips that followed. They hold an almost shy air to them as they hover over her pulled and puckered skin. He wasn’t scared to show affection, and he knew the touch wouldn’t be rejected, but these scars hang over his head as much as the ones he bares on his cheek.

Eskel’s lips travel from the lowest mark that was over the last right rib, stopping three places, and ending over the left shoulder. It was the worst of them all. There was a crater where smooth skin and lean muscle used to be. Under shirts it isn’t noticeable, but nobody who was there could ever forget the sight.

An arrow lodged itself into Y/n’s collarbone from behind, splintering off into multiple directions. Just when they had thought they got all the pieces out, another piece of stone would be found. The rest had luckily been clean, but due to the close range of the shot, it had been messy. Yennefer is a great sorceress, but even when it comes to magic, Triss had always been more medically inclined. But the chestnut-haired woman wasn’t there. Eskel and Y/n were lucky to even have Yen.

The two lovers had gotten back to Kaer Morhen earlier than expected. The year prior, there was a deal made between the head carpenter of Vespaden to have extra supplies picked up for fort repairs. So, instead of heading South, they stayed North of the Pontar, eager to help try and repair the place their hodgepodge family calls home. Y/n had become used to The Killer, and they had decided it was better to drop off their regular supplies at the fort, so they’d have an extra free cart to use.

Laying in wait was a bandit camp. They had the forethought to be ready if a Witcher was still alive and had wanted to come back for some reason. What the bandits hadn’t expected, was a witcher and a companion returning to a mostly functional home. Three men ambushed the Witcher as two more sprung out from the shadows.

Arrows went flying and swords were crossed, but in the end, it was the flying hilt of a sword that brought Eskel down. The bauble smashed into his eyebrow, the pain rocketing through his eye socket, and rattling him to the core. It was a blur to him until it was too late. Y/n had finished with settling the animals for the night, coming in as the man hit the ground.

Before Eskel had even tried courting Y/n, Vesemir had made sure she knew basic self-defense. He could see that she would be sticking around the family, but he knew there was nothing scarier to a Witcher than a human. Or more importantly, a human lover. They could be there one minute and gone the next. Even if they do have long, natural lives, it is only a fraction of what a Witcher lives.

Two of the ambushing bandits had been thrown on their ass, but Y/n disengaged the second an arrow was drawn but pointed down to the Witcher on the ground. He was clearly trying to get up, but Eskel couldn’t even get his eye to focus, let alone stand or defend himself. She used her wet pants to her advantage across the cold tiled floor as she slid towards him. Her arms and body encompassed a majority of his much larger frame and the arrows were let loose.

Pain bloomed throughout her back, but it was a shout from the entrance that took all of Y/n’s attention. The bard had let out a shout as he and Yennefer entered. Magic was thrown, and Geralt had followed the shout.

As the Witcher’s lips hover over the old wound, he remembers the fear he felt as his vision came back to him that day. All he could see in his arms was his lover and her blood. If he had just been a little faster. A little stronger. If he was better at being the thing he was changed into, the one thing he was good for, then maybe Y/n wouldn’t carry these burdens. The last time he messed up, when he tried defying destiny, he received penance. Eskel is the one to wear the burden, scars presenting proudly the cowardice he once had. Again, Eskel had felt he had made a mistake, but he can’t carry this.

It was only after Y/n shifted on the bed to look at him did he come out of his head space.

“So, are you going to kiss me? Or are you going to glare at me all night?” Soft, sunset eyes crinkle in confusion. With a slight tilt of her head, she points to the mirror on the far wall that perfectly framed the two. “I don’t blame you.” Y/n’s voice was soft in delivery, but it was firm with truth. Eskel pulls back, thumb brushing over the edge of the welt on the hill of her shoulder.

“I know.” That too was soft, but mechanical. He has heard it countless times, been told in thousands of different ways, but he can’t shake it. Hell, he can hear the truth in her heartbeat, smell the trust that has a resemblance of warm bread wafting off her skin. Y/n releases the softest of sighs as she finally wiggled on her shirt. She then stood and demanded the world to shrink to just the two of them. Her now demanding air suggesting that whatever she was about to say should be considered law. Hands were on hips, and Y/n even bent at the waist slightly to try and tower over her lover. It was similar to a hardheaded adult trying to convince a child that eating vegetables is good, or watching Lambert conduct any kind of conversation.

“Do you? Because it seems to me that you somehow found another backwater way to blame yourself.” Eskel huffed, sliding back to the edge of the bed, casting his concentration to putting on his boots. He was more emotionally inclined than his brothers, but this was one of the few topics he bristled on. The Wolf was used to living a life hiding behind the large signs that say, ‘vicious, brutal, do not enter’. It was still centuries easier to shut down then to try and work through it. “It was my idea to volunteer for us to get supplies. And if we hadn’t gotten there first, it could have been someone else that got hurt. Yen is powerful, but it was an ambush. What could have happened to our good friend Jaskier? Geralt was outside, and the bard hates violence. While Yen is busy dealing with three others, she couldn’t possibly look out for him too-.”

“That’s not it.” Eskel’s voice has a certain huskiness to it that gives his interjection an almost growly tone. He stops because of it, taking his time to breath. He swallows a few times, still tentative and worried that one day his voice could insight fear into his lover like it had countless to people before. Despite the years they’ve spent in each other’s arms, there are some insecurities Eskel could never shake. He continues when the first boot is finally tied. “I couldn’t protect you, and that is my job. No, not just my job. It is the one thing I would put above everything else, and I still couldn’t handle it.” Despite the Witcher not looking at her, she stared into the side of his head like he was.

“Love is a two-way street, Esk. It’s not just your ‘job’ or ‘desire’ to protect me. It’s mine too. I am willing to make every sacrifice to make sure you’re okay.” The words, ‘but I don’t deserve it’ are on the tip of his tongue, but he knew if he said that, they’d never get to this celebration that they were already late to. Y/n stops, arms going limp at her sides. She slowly makes her way around the corner of the bed, stopping between his open legs. A soft hand slowly nudges under his chin, suggesting he look at her. It takes a moment, but his sun-kissed stare finally meets her own. “In the end, it comes down to me loving you. That’s why it happened. And nobody can be blamed for loving someone. Unless you’re going to start admitting that you’re funny, kind, charming and soft, this is just something that you can’t carry. If you’re willing to admit that you’re perfect- and not just in my eyes, then I will allow you to blame yourself. Blame yourself for being someone people want to protect. With even their own life.” Y/n watched as sadness and fatigue started to creep into his eyes.

“But I’m not! I’m not something people should want to protect. I have thoughts and feelings, but at the end of the day, I am just another monster used to take out other monsters. Once this long lasting glamor wears off, you’ll see it too.” He could smell that fresh bread of love boil with the harsh acid of anger for just a moment before a simple ‘okay’ was heard as her response. Y/n let her hand slip from his face as she slowly dropped to her knees in front of him. She lifted his booted foot to her bare thigh, and her fingers practically danced as she unlaced it. Eskel huffed once again, already feeling tired before the night had even begun, despite the nice day off the two shared in bed. “What are you doing?” His voice sounded small, and it took everything in her power not to back down, and to try to get her point across without breaking.

“I’m taking your shoe off.” It takes until she started to pry his socks off before again, he voices himself.

“We have a celebration to go to.” Y/n looks to him ad shrugs. He could tell her mask of indifference was false, but he was still confused as to where she was going with it.

“No, we don’t. Not technically.” Her hands do stop though, their grip firm against his ankle and calf. “If you’re a monster, then so is Geralt.” Eskel was too shocked to fully register the meaning, eyes going wide.

“What did you just say?” He watched her drop eye contact, looking back down at his sock. Her slip-clad form giving a half-hearted shrug before continuing in an ignorant tone.

“Well, considering everyone makes mistakes, you couldn’t have been referring to that when calling yourself a monster. Especially since I make mistakes, and I certainly don’t think I’m a monster. So, you must mean being a Witcher means being a monster. And this celebration is for the engagement of said monster- and you have made it abundantly clear that nobody could ever love a monster-.”

“Geralt is different-.” Y/n’s head snaps to face Eskel once more, eyes sharper than any dagger- clearer than any mirror. It puts Eskel under a spell that he wants to pull away from but couldn’t even if he tried. The raw need for trust and belief pouring from the woman in front of him is choking the Witcher. Like he’s drowning, but knows he never learned how to swim.

“No. It’s not. I could give you the rest of my life to let you try and think of all the ways it is, knowing it’s futile. Because you won’t find any. It’s true I won’t live forever. But I will spend every second of the time I have loving you. And even when I’m gone, I won’t be. I’ll be in your heart, your dreams. I’ll never truly leave you. I don’t want to. And at the end of the day, I can continue loving you while still breathing, I consider that a win. I don’t want to spend our time wallowing on the ‘close calls’ of the past. End is inevitable. But we don’t have to be looking at a bigger picture. Let’s just be two people in love, going to celebrate their brother’s engagement. Dance a little, drink a little. Go to sleep in each-other’s arms and wake up to a new day.”

Eskel simply stared. What was he to say? There have only been a few other times in his longer life that he’s felt his soul concede, knowing it has lost. This could be added to the short list. The brunette knew now that he would never win this argument. Or probably any argument in the future. For a moment, he got angry at himself. Angry for not seeing that dwelling on this truly did chip away at their time together. But dwelling on that shouldn’t now become the issue.

Y/n must have read his features as she gives a soft smile and starts returning his sock. Like before, words got stuck in his throat, but the simple, ‘I’m sorry,’ wouldn’t budge. His hands cover hers, and her eyes flick to his to deliver a quick wink. She let him take over the task and got up from her spot to put on the dress laid on the bed. Before she stepped away, she brushed a quick kiss to the quirk of his upper lip and giving him another smile.

[crowleyellestair]

Oo! Oo! A prompt challenge! But only if you want to! Geralt x reader angst with a happy ending (well, do whatever you like, I just ask that everything turns out ok in the end as I am a tender soul) with this sentence: “I can’t even look at you right now I’m so disappointed.”

A/N: Hello! It has been a while. Every chance I get to write gets thrown under the rug by life, so I’m going to try and catch up a bit. If you have small blurbs or smaller requests, I’ll happily take them! I’m unsure how long the longer requests will take, but I’m trying! I’m glad to be back (for now 😊 ) I don’t know if you want Netflix Geralt or game/book Geralt, so I went with the show in mind, though it’s more of a weird mix. I think it works though. I hope you like it 😊 Much love

Geralt x Reader masterlist

“Would you turn around, please?” The desperation in Y/n’s voice was noticeable. Geralt’s tone was cold and sharp, cutting through the air like his blade does through a beast.

“I can’t. I’m too disappointed.”

They were words neither human expected to hear, and the long silence that followed was suffocating.

“Listen my friend, it sounds harsher than it was-.” Jaskier cut himself off at the gaze thrown his way from the Witcher.

“Geralt,” she called. With every moment that passed, and his eyes didn’t fall on her, her heart sunk. Jaskier shifted from foot to foot, waiting for his friend to give in. The Witcher was great at keeping his emotions at bay, but he still had them. He felt them more than he could feel the breeze in his hair or the burn of sitting too close to the campfire. Jaskier often wondered if his friend felt more than even him, and what poetry would fall if he actually emerged from his shell.

Y/n called again, though it was barely a whisper.

The bard could hear the leather of his friend’s gloves tighten against the saddle bag; could feel the exhale of anger. If the brunette didn’t look back to their healer friend, he would have seen a hint of gold peeking over at him. The deities above and the sprites in the trees could only guess at what the Witcher was thinking.

What would his friend do? Should he simply dump the expendables for all of their sakes? Was love really worth the risk of the path?

More moments had passed, and the two humans watched on as the Witcher quickly packed their belongings on Roach. The lead was grabbed, and the White Wolf started to walk. The silence is finally broken as the sounds of his footsteps explode in her ears. She finds her voice, though it comes out loudly and strained.

“I can explain-!”

“I’ve heard you explain,” the mutant roared. “I’ve heard Jaskier explain. I’ve had the guards explain. We need to leave, not because there’s no work, but because you couldn’t handle it.” He still faced the exit of the town, trees lining the outskirts. It was dark, and they’d need to make camp sooner rather than later. Geralt knows they are underprepared for such an event, and dusk already falling makes the situation worse.

“I handled it how it ought to be handled!”

“No!” Geralt grunted. Finally, he turned, Y/n’s chin held high. He knew it was an act. Whether it be the smell of fear and uncertainty that radiated from her skin, or the tears that haven’t fallen yet, Geralt knew. “This sort of thing happens. We get swindled and cheated, but we never retaliate. We don’t go to the Baron’s home and thrash his son’s arse in front of his own court.”

“I didn’t thrash-.” Geralt’s gloved finger was held in between them. It was a move he’d seen Vesemir do time and time again to any student who stepped out of line. If only Lambert saw him now…

“You don’t put your life at risk for this.” Y/n stepped closer, anger bubbling, as well as every other emotion she had ever felt. The healer couldn’t understand why Geralt didn’t want her help despite whatever the unspoken thing was between them.

“For what?” She took a smaller step, but closer still. “For you?” Her hands clenched at her sides, and Jaskier made as little movement as possible. “You were being cheated out of five hundred orens, Geralt. I don’t have to care about you to want to step in. It’s theft.” Geralt’s eyes fell closed, and he grimaced before opening them again.

“You’re not understanding.” For once, he made a move that even surprised him. His hand reached out and gently landed on her shoulder. “You would have been punished. It’s a Baron. He has land, men and a title. And he’d use every ounce of his power to punish you for stepping out of line.” His golden gaze bore down into hers, tired eyes finding panicked ones. Geralt knew the second he looked at her, he’d cave. It’s why he’s been trying to keep distant. Trying to keep whatever was between them locked away for as long as possible. To Geralt, if it isn’t mentioned, it isn’t real. It’s a childish, primal way of thinking, but it’s easier. Easier to be ignorant in a part of his life that he could actually control, rather than leaving his emotions to the fates. If word got out to the wind that he loved something, that something would be taken away. It might not be right away, but he’s had a little over a century to know that the other ball always drops. The timeframe didn’t matter, as Y/n would inevitably be taken away. “You are worth more than five hundred orens. We can make do.”

Jaskier shifted a touch and Geralt’s eyes flew to him. The Witcher’s hand dropped, and he turned on his heels towards the dark forest. The lead made its way to wrapping around his fingers, and Roach dutifully followed. Now wasn’t the time or place, though in that moment, Geralt decided it would never be the right time. What he felt would never see the light of day. He didn’t turn back again, but let out a gruff, “let’s go,” and expected the two to follow.

The poet wasn’t so quick to follow, staying a pace or two behind the healer to make sure she followed the horse. For once in his life, he wished he hadn’t been in the heat of the moment. It was his idea to talk to the boy, though Y/n executed the deed. And maybe if he hadn’t been here either, Geralt would allow himself to feel happy, despite the circumstance. The bard was well aware of the very requited feelings his two companions had for the other, though he had no clue how to get them together. Despite how the events unfolded, he still had hope that the Witcher would one day crawl out from under his shell. And he was certain it would take Y/n for it to happen.

[crowleyellestair]

Hiii🤍🤍🤍🥺🥺🥺 I hope you're healing !!! I got a request for youuuus Imagine reader being deliriously sleepy and asking Geralt of Rivia ”If you hit yourself and it hurts, are you weak or strong” and Geralt's like ಠಿ_ಠ And then reader passes out on his shoulder LMAOO

AN// Hiiii, I know it has been a while, but it’s good to do a request of yours! Check out my page, as I posted an explanation to my absence.

 It had been a rare day in the trio’s world, where Geralt could relax, and his human companions had been busy. Jaskier was busy hiding from lovers spread over Novigrad and had been running around all day. Quite literally. Y/n had been trying to collect herbs in between card games, trying to let her lover relax back at the inn. It was known that Geralt had a certain dislike for large towns, and Y/n, the loving soul, tried her damndest to make sure he was comfortable.

She was insistent that he stayed at the inn, looked after his swords and rested. She had seen him once throughout the day when she dropped of the herbs, and made him promise to let her brew potions when she got back. Though, their moment hadn’t lasted long, as she left to the stables to make sure Roach was just as pampered as Geralt.

While most would say that she shouldn’t have been tired by these tasks, Y/n never really had a track record for sleeping. It was very rare for her to find sleep, even wrapped in her witcher’s arms. Usually she would run her fingers through his hair, or rub her fingertips into his skin.

Today, however, after a long trek to the city and running around trying to make coin and grab supplies, she has found herself tired. Though sleep still refuses to take her. There she is, leg and arm draped over her lover, who’s hand was woven into her hair. Her nose nuzzled into his collarbone, and her eyes drooped, but she remained awake. Geralt stared at the ceiling, laying on his back, listening to her fifth pun of the night. He’s stuck between heaven and hell, as he loves the woman laying on him, but the wild tirade is too much to bear.

“What do you call a horse in the army?” The witcher let out a sigh, both disappointed in her puns, and himself for enjoying the moment too much. His head tilted downwards, lips brushing over her hairline as he gives a questioning hum. “A knight-mare. You know,” she paused to yawn. “Knight, as in Toussaint’s finest, and mare, like Roach. Ha.” When she was met with silence, she started to laugh, filling the space with warmth. She didn’t know why she was laughing, the pun was funny, but she wasn’t one to bust a gut over her own jokes. Maybe it was her witcher’s clear lack of laughter that was funny. In this moment- this sleep deprived moment, everything was funny.

Y/n was always on air when around Geralt, but she couldn’t feel her body, as it was the only thing to succumb to her exhaustion. She couldn’t place her finger on any worries or hardships in the world. All she could focus on was Geralt and the heat his body radiated. On joy and humor. On the mysteries of self-strength…

“Geralt, darling?”  

“Yes, Y/n?”

“If you hit yourself,” she could feel the sigh that rumbled through his chest. It made her giggle, but she continued on. “If you hit yourself, and it hurts, are you weak or strong?”

“You’re tired.”

“Well, yes, but! I need an answer, oh master of battle. Would you be weak or strong?” The White Wolf gave a small, reserved smile before giving in. His calloused fingertips moved minutely on the skin of the forearm over his chest. It took him a minute to think of his answer, once again tilting his head down to give it. In that moment, however, when his mind was focused once again on her, away from the corner of his mind to think of the answer, he noticed her heartrate. It was slow, and a tempo he rarely hears from her, as he falls asleep before her. Y/n’s breathing evened out further than it had prior, and his smile spread, if only for a moment.

The witcher didn’t want to risk shifting them to get to the blanket, so he cast Igni into the hearth. He continued to rub his thumb into her skin, enjoying the feel of her heart, and the sound of her breath. He hoped that she dreamed well, but knew he’d fight off anything that came to harm her in her dreams, though, he’d never admit that.

[crowleyellestair]

Oof, glad you’re feeling better! That sounds like an uncomfortable nightmare

Thank you!! It was, but I'm so glad to be back! 💙

[crowleyellestair]

Heyyyy! How are you? Hope you're ok ❤💖

I am doing a lot better now physically and mentally. It warms my heart that you messaged me!! 💙💙💙 I hope you are also doing good! Times are weird but I hope you're staying safe! I'm back and ready to write :)

[crowleyellestair]

Regis deserves love and appriciation and mby like a really fluffy blanket, you cant change my mind

I honestly agree, whole heartedly with you. He is precious, and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. I have the same sentiment with Dettlaff in all honesty, even if it did take a while for him to grow on me.

I can’t find anything about him that I haven’t fallen in love with.

While B&W has some character actions I don’t agree with (like having him drink despite his belief system in the books) I still love him

[crowleyellestair]

Hey dear!! How are you doing? Are you feeling any pain? I had all my wisdom teeth removed last year and the first day wasn’t good, but after that it was okay, but my jaw was swollen for a while tho. I wish you a smooth recovery!! You asked for requests, so I was thinking about this: reader travels with geralt and jaskier. Mutual pining between she and geralt, but they still haven’t confessed their feelings. They go to a ball and Yen is there (1/2)

AN/// Sorry this is so late; I have a post explaining everything and how it wasn’t as smooth as both of us hoped. This is a great prompt, and thank you so much for the kind words. I was excited to write this! It’s a little longer, but I hope that makes up for the wait.

  Lights blurred together and she didn’t try to blink them into focus, her mind too busy in stealing itself. Y/n was well aware Yen could read her mind at any moment, and she could let herself wander into emotional territory. Instead, she focused on how loud the room was, and how it made her head pound. Voices mixed together, none distinguishable at this point. She was sure that if she focused, she could make out the conversation between Yen and Geralt that unfolded right in front of her, but that was risky business. She could never look at the witcher without her heart racing, love grasping every part of her being.

Feet stomped across the dancefloor, drowning out her friend’s playing, though if the small trio they sported wasn’t at the other end of the room, she might be able to hear it better. The room was hot, despite the cool night. She struggled to keep the empty glass clinched between her fingers as she started to sweat. It had been years since she had worn a dress, the extra fabric not helping. Y/n tried not to sway as the heels of her shoes started to make her feet hurt. Jaskier had helped her create the outfit, and she started to regret not insisting the flat shoes she had mentioned at the beginning of the process.

People moved around them, their figures blurring along with the lights. Their forms making the room even louder, warmer. Her knees were locked, but she could only focus on keeping her mind shut. Yen was a powerful woman, and it is intimidating- you’d be a fool to think otherwise. It was hard for the woman not to compare herself to the sorceress in the moment, especially since she’d been doing it since they first met years ago.

“Y/n?” Her eyes snapped into focus as her name was called. She looked between the two sets of eyes staring at her. Violet ones, filled with amusement, and molten gold, filled with what she could only hope was concern. She cleared her throat, looking down to her glass.

“I’m… going to get fresh air.” The woman gave a curt nod, mainly for herself in agreement, and walked away, still feeling both gazes on her back. Everything continued to blend together until she finally made it onto the balcony. Y/n started to gasp, a hand going to the tightened bodice. The other grasped the railing and her eyes had to blink away tears.

There was so much hope built for the night. After Jaskier was asked to play at the party, the two spent the whole day preparing. Jaskier for his show, and Y/n had prepared to simply ride along until the bard insisted tonight was the night. He had been along for the ride for half a decade in the adventure that was her infatuation with the witcher. Everything from her hair to the dress was tailored special, all with the help of the bard. While at first she had been against it, not wanting to risk years of friendship, she had caved. Though, it had all been thrown away once golden eyes found violet. Geralt had been what she could only call giddy, and he’d been posted by the sorceress’s side since. And it hurt.

Y/n was the one who was always there, defending him, representing him and loving him. Of course, he had never asked for any of that, but she had given it. It was only three nights ago where they had sat in comfortable silence under the same stars she looked to now. It was a normalcy for them, as she always stayed up when he woke from nightmares. It had been a busy day then, filled with brewing potions and decoctions, as Geralt trusted her with certain recipes to help out. The woman could remember the first time he taught them to her, and the small, timid smile he gave. He mentioned how his teacher would be furious if he found out Geralt gave away ‘witcher secrets’, but he knew the knowledge would be safe with her. It was small moments like that that made her fall for him, and had her convinced he felt the same.

But it always comes down to Yen. Y/n always convinces herself once more that he feels the same until the sorceress glides back into their lives. Y/n never spoke of Yen and her assumptions or questions, though she knew Jaskier caught on to her envy. Anytime the bard would try and sooth her worries, she would change the subject, the would-be truth too hard to face. However, tonight was the night. It was all or nothing. The trio had travelled close enough to her hometown, so if he had rejected her, she would be able to slip away easily. She felt somewhat guilty about planning to leave. She hadn’t told Jaskier about her plan upon rejection, and she knew Roach would be raw about it too. The witcher once had said how frustrating it was, knowing Roach loved her more. The mare would always take her side when fights happened, never letting her usual rider on, no matter how frustrating it was for him. Geralt was particular, however, and she wouldn’t dare overuse her stay among the party if he didn’t feel the same.

Y/n was lost in thought, even as someone approached, which was uncommon for her. She was on autopilot when she responded to the thrown-out phrase,

“Doth my eyes deceive me?”

“Probably, I’m blind.” Her tone was quiet compared to the excited baritone who initiated, though excitement flooded through her as realization dawned. She turned around quickly, a smile gracing her for the first time since arriving at the party. Before her was her childhood friend, who stayed by her side until she left with the witcher and bard. “Felix!” He gave a smile in return, giving a sarcastic bow before opening his arms. The embrace was warm and a great change of pace. They parted, though he kept an olive toned hand on her shoulder.

“Y/n, it’s great to see you. It’s been, what, half a decade? At some point I started to wonder if you were simply an imaginary friend.” She laughed, and his smile grew.

“Well, you are crazy enough for that to be in the realm of possibility.”

“Exactly, that’s why I was worried.” Again, they both laughed, making their way to the balcony. His hand dropped, though his arm rubbed against hers as they stared out into the night sky. “I’m surprised you’re back. And at a party, no less.” The woman shrugged, trusting him, though not wanting to give too much away.

“The entertainment tonight is a good friend. We travel together, and I came to support him.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but too much time has passed to tell the whole truth. While Felix had been supportive of her leaving, she remembers how warry he was of the witcher.

“Well, I’m glad. It’s great to see you.” There was no response, though there was something she wanted to say. She wanted to apologize for leaving him, knowing he wanted to break out of the town just as much as she had. But he was a noble’s son, he couldn’t come with.

“How’s the family,” was all she could come up with. Y/n practically flinched at her own inquiry, knowing that everything was muddled with her at the moment. They were close, though she never felt how she did with Geralt. She was never in love. Childhood infatuation, maybe, but she knew she couldn’t be with Felix. Everyone in town knew the brunette next to her wanted to ask for her hand, but she left the first moment she could.

“Fine. Can’t complain, I guess. The estate is good too. I should be taking over in the next year or so.” She nodded, not really knowing how to get out what she wanted to say. Her mind kept reeling back to Geralt and Yen, and what they would be up to, and it ate away at her. “Are you staying or passing through?”

“Oh, uh…just passing. Or maybe staying. I’m not entirely sure yet.” They stood in silence for a moment before Felix knocked against the railing. He turned to face her, giving a small smile.

“Well, could I ask for a dance?” Y/n opened her mouth to decline before he dropped his head, peering at her through thick lashes. “Just as a farewell dance. Or maybe a welcome back dance, if you do decide to stay.” Her mouth shut, and she looked to her hands. The only people she’d be hurting by saying no where Felix and herself. Geralt seemed pretty preoccupied at the moment anyways. She looked back up with a smile, agreeing.

Arm and arm they moved to the dance floor, Y/n trying to block out years of secret smiles the witcher had given her. The sharing of warmth at night when it was only a little chilly. The brushed knuckles as they walked side by side. Mornings and nights spent attached at the hips in perfect contentment. His broken compliments given to her, and his flustered brooding that followed. Fingers lingering a little too long on skin when tending to injured areas. Personal secrets shared over liters of ale. All of it had to be steeled away.

Hands found hands, shoulders and hips. Her eyes found Jaskier’s confused gaze, but she brushed him off, trying to make Felix the subject of the moment. And after a while, he was. After stepping on his feet, and bumping into other couples, the two lost time, smiling and laughing the whole way. Felix had asked for one dance, but they spent more than three together. All of them were upbeat, and they both were out of breath. It seemed Jaskier finally needed a break, slower strums filling the air. Felix stared down at his old friend; a large smile spread over his visage. He started to lean in, when a low gruff was heard behind her. Y/n’s eyes widened, knowing the huff anywhere, turning in Felix’s arms to find Geralt, standing very uncomfortably in the middle of the floor. If Y/n wasn’t so engrossed in the amber eyes in front of her, she would have noted that Jaskier’s lyrics were supposed to come in two measures ago. Th bard seemingly also entranced by the scene before him. Blue eyes found violet, and she gave a smirk, suggesting this was her idea.

“Geralt, what are you doing here?” He cleared his throat, looking away for a moment before looking at her skirt.

“We came here together.” It took a moment, but Y/n let out a small snort, something she only did with him. Usually she kept up appearances, even with her laugh, though she always herself with him. Even now, she couldn’t think of Yen or Felix. Only the witcher she adored.

“I meant on the dance floor.” HE gave a curt nod, closing his eyes, almost as if readying himself.

“To ask you to dance.” The witcher glared at the ceiling when she took a moment to process what he had just said.

“Me? To…dance? What about Yennefer?” Geralt’s brow raised as his eyes met hers.

“What about Yen?”

“Well… weren’t you two conversing? You seemed pretty engrossed.” His eyes flew over her shoulder to find said woman smiling. The sorceress had said Y/n would say something like that. It was among the many things she said would be spoken, among things like a confession, to which he had scoffed at. Though Yen was heavy set on Geralt asking her to dance. The two had a relationship once, though it turned to an easy friendship after realizing it wouldn’t work out. Mainly because, despite the djinn entangling their futures, Geralt’s heart belonged to Y/n. The wolf shrugged, not knowing how to continue. Though he started to glare once more, and Y/n followed his glare over her shoulder to Felix. Guilt started to eat away, but he spoke up before she could say anything.

“It was great to see you again, Y/n.” He bowed his head before disappearing into the crowd. He turned back to the witcher, who looked more uncomfortable than when he arrived. His jaw was tight, but he stepped closer, eyes still looking to where Felix disappeared before seemingly scolding himself.

“I’m sorry.” Her heart dropped, thinking he already knew of her affections. That he would reject her before she could even ask. She too cleared her throat, not being able to meet his gaze either.

“For what?”

“He seemed nice.” Her brow raised before she met amber again.

“Felix was a childhood friend. He holds title at an estate not too far from here. It was nice to see him again, though he surely has other people to rub elbows with here.” They stood in silence as couples floated around them.

“So…dance?” Y/n perked up, stumbling over herself.

“Yes! Dance. Love to dance. I mean- I would love to dance. With you.” His hands found her hips and her hands found his shoulders. His eyes couldn’t stop roaming over her face, and a flush broke over her cheeks. “I have to admit though, I don’t really know how to dance. No matter how slow.” He nodded for a moment before looking into her eyes.

“Stand on my feet.” Her brow rose, and again his gaze found the floor. “Dancing was apart of training. You need to be able to be as graceful as the creature you’re going against.” Tepidly, she stood on his boots, and he started to flow with the music. She didn’t realize it, but her hands had curled into the white locks that rested over the back of his neck. His thumbs pressed into her waist, and they got lost in each other’s gazes. Jaskier must have been keeping a watchful eye as he played a second slow song. This was it. Now or never.

“Geralt, I… We’ve… wow, this was way better when I practiced earlier.”

“I remember you saying that you never practice.”

“Yes, well,” a small smile broke out on her face. “This was something that I thought needed it. It’s very important.” She took a long inhale before looking to the neck that was straight in front of her. Maybe if she isn’t looking into those intense eyes, it would make things easier. “Geralt, you are important. To me. You have been for the past five years. But, more than a friend. I know that this jeopardize everything, and I’ll leave if you want me to but-.”

“I’d never ask you to leave. Do you want to leave?” Her eyes found his again, and sadness turned the amber to liquid.

“N-no! I meant that if you’re uncomfortable with my affections towards you, that I would leave. I wouldn’t want to make you suffer with someone you don’t want to be around.”

“Your affections towards me?”

“Yeah. I… Geralt, I have come to love you.” Y/n let her eyes close, and her head fall. Geralt’s movements had stopped, except for his hand that cupped the joint of her neck.

“I can’t promise to know what love is, but I’m certain that this is what I think it feels like. I know I can’t… express things, but I know that I care for you more than I’ve cared for anyone before.” Wide eyes met his own, and he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. “If you would have me.”

“Yes. Yes, of course I would.” He started to lean down, trying to give her time to back out, despite professing her own love. Geralt was aware how difficult he was at times, but he also knew that she was a rare happiness in his life. His heart seemed to be at a normal human rate whenever she’s near. Her scent had become something he was addicted to. Waking up without her aroma became foreign, and unwelcome. Her soft, caring gaze was something he saw whenever his eyes closed.

Their lips connected, noses brushing against each other. The witcher seemed timid, Y/n pushing into it further to show she wanted it. Wanted him. To have and to hold, till death do they part.

[crowleyellestair]

Hello everyone! I am b a c k!

I have received so many requests while I was gone, and I have a weekend of vacation that I’m going to try and use to write.

I have also received many personal things reaching out to me, and I appreciate it so much! I wanted to respond to everyone and explain what had happened.

As most know, I had my wisdom teeth removed. Everything seemed ok, though I was out for more than a week, as I didn’t fully comprehend how intense my medication would be. The next weeks were filled with making up for my time off, though I had planned to write out requests once everything went back to normal. However, my lower left socket got infected, and that took a week to recover from. It wasn’t dry sockets, though my whole mouth was swollen to the point where I couldn’t close my mouth.

Some know that I am a college student, and due to the new changes schools are undergoing, my entire schedule was thrown to the wind. Some classes dropped from the roster as they have to be preformed in person, or others had to shift time slots was changing to online.

I want to thank everyone who checked in on me, and I am so sorry that I didn’t respond. I haven’t been on any social media for the past month trying to get things in gear. I still have anxiety for the new semester to come to try and keep up my honors status, but I also love to write for you guys, so I’m going to spend my last week to write as I think I’ve sorted things out to the best of my abilities.

I am on back log for requests, but my asks are always open for people to drop ideas.

Get ready for more Witcher content!!!

[crowleyellestair]

How are feeling? I had my wisdom teeth removed years ago it it was awful. I hope you're doing better than I did ❤ Take care of yourself and take nap ❤

It's rough, but im ice packing it as much as possible. Can't open my mouth, but the pain itself isn't too bad. Thank you for the love. Im sorry if yours was worse than this, cause this sucks. Straight up not having a good time.

Thank you again for the love 💙💙💙💙💙💙

[crowleyellestair]

Some fooods u can eat Mashed potatoes (best kind is from kfc) Soup Ice cream Scrambled eggs Bananas Yogurt Macaroni n cheese Apple sauce Pudding Oatmeal Avacado Get well soon, bb. We lovee u 🥺🥺💜💜

Thank you!!! I got some of those, but I didn't even think of mashed potatoes! Day 2 and everything is swollen, but i think im doing ok.

I love you too bb!!! 💙💙💙

[crowleyellestair]

Hope you’re alright, after getting your wisdom teeth removed. You’ve asked for fluffy requests, and I’ve got one for you!!! How about Jaskier and the female reader having some children, and the Witcher’s (Geralt, Eskel, Lambert) being soft lovable uncles (even if they don’t want to admit it). Lots of cute fluffiness!! ❤️ Please and thank you!!

AN//// I’m doing fine other than not feeling my face. Thank you for sending this in!!!!! I need some fluffy scenarios to keep my mind off of it. It’s a little short, but I like it, and I hope you do too!!!

 Y/n spun around to the kitchen table, hands quickly fitting under her daughter’s arms. The child giggled, but it was over shadowed by the loud, “but mom,” ringing in her ears. Fingers thread through the woman’s hair as the larger boy on her back tried to grab her attention.

“Alexi, that’s enough.” The boy huffed, but slid from her back. Large blue eyes, that contended even his fathers, stared with a disbelieving tone. Y/n simply rolled her eyes, and brought Lavinia to the sink. A wet cloth tried in vain to scrub the grime off of her daughter’s large cheeks. Alexi followed, huffing and placing his hands on his hips.

“But you promised.” Her free hand wove its way into the hair of her four year old daughter, the color matching that of her own. Her body turned to her six year old, a smile trying to find its way to her at the spitting image of her husband.

“I think you’ll find that I didn’t. I distinctly remember saying ‘maybe’.” Alexi’s jaw dropped.

“That’s practically saying yes!”

“Still using maybe?” All three of their eyes flew to the door where the White Wolf enveloped the doorway. A large smile spread over her face.

“Geralt! It’s great to see you!” Y/n’s attention was quickly brought away from her long time friend back to her daughter, who was bouncing in excitement, chanting his name. Y/n rolled her eyes, letting the girl go, jumping all the way to the witcher. The girl practically scaled his body, into his arms, a rare smile forming on the man’s face. “I will have you know, that ‘maybe’ is my specialty. The day you see me give a direct answer will be the day I’ve been switched out with a doppler.” Geralt stepped farther into the house, and a voice quickly followed him in.

“You said yes to the bard, didn’t you?” Lambert’s confident voice rang through the kitchen, his swords dropping to the floor by the door. Alexi was quick and quiet in his movements, but he flew to Lambert’s side, giving him a swift hug. Lambert replied with a gloved hand ruffling the chestnut hair, trying to stifle his smile. It was true he loved the kids, especially his ‘little apprentice’ Alexi, but he had a reputation to uphold. The young boy smiled up to him through thick eyelashes, and ran, tripping up the stairs as he went.

Y/n smiled, handing the youngest witcher a mug of ale, and a small parcel. His brow flew, scars molding with it, but she simply smiled.

“The kid’s been asking for knew needles, and I’m sure he’d rather get them from you.” Lambert tensed, eyes flying to Geralt, though he seemed too busy shaking all of the rocks out of Lavinia’s pockets. He quickly snatched the items, grumbling about mentioning his hobbies in front of others, and gave the woman a quick peck on the cheek. He followed the boy, knowing exactly where their little workshop was. “So, where’s my favorite of the three?” Geralt’s smile widened as he too was handed a mug. He balanced the cup in one hand, the girl still held upside down in the other. It fell however, once he took a drink.

“This is water.” Lavinia’s feet started to kick out, her left heel hitting the witcher’s chin.

“You’re not going to want to drink the usual. She asked every week when you’re coming back to fight. Bruxae and Katakan’s are one thing, Lavinia’s a whole other. You remember how Ciri was, and she was already twelve.” Geralt gave an agreeing huff, before letting the girl down, though she immediately attached herself to his leg. Y/n leaned against her counter, arms crossed, smile wide. “How is my niece doing anyways?” The witcher gave another reserved smile, placing the now empty mug on the table closest to him.

“On the path. She checks in frequently, though Yen always keeps track of her.” The woman nodded, pushing herself up and towards the entryway of the next room.

“That’s great, Geralt. I don’t want to say it-.”

“Then don’t.” She smiled, shaking her head.

“But I told you so. I knew you’d be happy in the end; it just seems people don’t listen to me.” She continued out into the next room, hearing him call,

“Even the bard?” She laughed, and softly replied,

“Especially my bard.” Y/n continued on her path, knowing full well where Eskel, the previously mentioned favorite, was. A crib was built in the lounging room, it being the easiest spot for it. It’s where Jaskier played most of the time, and it was on the ground level. The brunette stood, bent over the side. A finger was being chased by small, fisted hands, though they often opened to try and catch the appendage. Small giggles rang through the otherwise quiet room.

“She’s grown well.” The woman came to lean over the other side, not interfering with what was happening.

“Yes, for a one year old.” Her tone was jesting, and the ghost of a smile formed in reply to it.

“I saw her eleven months ago. That’s a long time.” Y/n smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit, and take of the swords. Gambeson too.” His eyes squinted in confusion, but he only received an eye roll and shooing hands in reply. He did as he was told, plopping down stiffly into the armchair by the window. The view was beautiful. The hill the house had been on hid a small pond before the forest began and it was surrounded by wildflowers. The sun was high in the sky, Geralt being seen in the picture, wrestling with a four year old wild cat. He looked up to the woman as she approached, baby Juliet in hand. He stiffened even more, about to make an argument when he received another eye roll. “You didn’t hold her last time, and that must be rectified.” She quickly yet gently instructed how to hold his arms, and gently set the young girl in her knew strong cradle. Y/n had yet to see her husband, and turned to leave, though Eskel called after her. She smiled, placing a kiss on the crown of his head. “You got this. I’ll be back in a moment.”

The three witchers had always made time to visit a minimum of twice a year. Usually, they all came at separate times, but the house Y/n and Jaskier built was big enough for the family they all made up.