I came across your blog a month ago and fell in love with your art <33 and um I'm in a netflix lambert high (??) right now and so uh... may i request chibi lambert with extra floofy hair?
I just needed to showcase how Lambert went from "You don't belong here, Princess, you can't handle it, give up" to "You can do it! ATTA GIRL!" And swinging his pompoms in the air in support of her. I love this!
Omggg! I had an idea it’s not very correct timeline wise…but maybe if you wanted to, could you write an imagine where the reader was tourtured together with Jaskier, but the reader is together with Netflix!Eskel or Netflix!Lambert, and Jaskier is like “fuck Geralt and… are gonna kill me”. But maybe it could work bc reader just have been telling Jaskier about their Witcher lover and Jaskier knows how Geralt is mad so he could imagine another witcher being fourious. +I think Geralt also would be mad that Jaskier got hurt bc of him.
Uh is this too complicated? You can totally not write this!! Sorry.
Have a great day!!!!! 🐺
A/N: Hi babe! I'm sorry this took ages to get out, but I hope you like it :) I put my own little twist on the episode where Jaskier is hurt by the fire fucker so I hope it's at least a little decent
Warnings: spoilers for s2, hurt!Jaskier, hurt!reader, nothing outside of canon for the show
Word Count: 2.2k
***
“Y/N? Y/N, darling? Wake up.”
“Jaskier…. Shut up.” You groaned, turning your head as you started to open your eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“My head fucking hurts.”
“Mine too. I think we were knocked the hell out.”
You tried to move your hand so you could rub your head but you found that you weren’t able to move your hands. Your eyes widened suddenly and you lifted your head.
The room was pitch black with the exception of a ray of moonlight shining in through a window to your left.
“Jaskier!”
“Just over here, darling.” He spoke from your right. You turned your head as far as you could to the right. From what you could see, he was bound to a chair behind you.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Yennefer? Is she here?”
“I don’t think so.”
You began to try to wiggle out of the bonds, but you didn’t get very far before there was something on the other side of the room that caught your attention. Someone snapped your fingers and what looked like a flame appeared, though you didn’t know what the source was.
“Well that’s unsettling.” Jaskier whispered.
You watched the very faint outline of a person move in the shadow.
“Uh, uh, look. We don’t have any money.” Jaskier spoke, his voice shaky. “I am but a, uh…. a humble bard and my dear friend here, she’s-she’s my traveling companion.
The floorboards creaked as the stranger moved, though you couldn’t tell if they were growing closer or further away until they snapped their fingers. The flame appeared closer.
“Or-Or if this is about your wife, your mistress, niece–,”
“Shut up.” You muttered to Jaskier, fearing he would be making the situation worse.
Your heart raced in your chest as you watched the figure. The next time he snapped his fingers, he was directly beside you.
You flinched, realizing the fire was coming from his fingertip.
Oh fuck.
“Look, if you’re just a really big fan, then please note that I am not willing to discuss the subjects of my work, its inspiration or characters, fictitious or otherwise.” Jaskier’s breathing was shaky as he spoke, though he tried to stay calm and stoic. “So why don’t you just show yourself, and we can have a nice chat, and you can tell me what you want from us?”
You strained to see over your shoulder what was happening.
The stranger- a man -was now in front of Jaskier. He placed one hand on the back of Jaskier’s chair and bent down to be face to face with him. He snapped his fingers, the heat of the flame lighting up Jaskier’s features.
“Fucking-! Fuck!”
“Shhh.” The man hushed him, clearly taunting the bard.
You pulled against the rope holding your wrists to the arms of the chair, desperate to get out and try to help your friend.
“Hello, Jaskier.” The man spoke finally.
***
You tried to move your fingers. They were numb, scorched from the mage’s magic. But you could feel a pain in your wrist and up your arm. You imagined it was similar to the same pain being cut open with a dull knife would bring.
“Y/N- Y/N, are you alright?” Jaskier choked out, his mouth full of his own blood.
Your eyes flickered over to him as you nodded your head. You couldn’t use your voice just yet.
He spat the blood off to the side, then leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling.
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?”
You kept your lips pressed together, unable to bring yourself to say anything. What if you were truly fucked? What if this was it?
The mage wanted information on Geralt, which neither you nor Jaskier were going to give up. You would take what you knew about the witchers to your death– which seemed to be very near.
Tears blurred your vision and your throat became scratchy.
“Jask, I-I’m-I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Y/N.” He spoke your name gently. “Don’t-Don’t do that. You can’t. We can’t give up, darling–,”
“This is it for us.”
“It isn’t. It can’t be.” Jaskier firmly shook his head. “That lover of yours would fucking kill me if I let you die…. What’s his name? Tell me about him.”
You shook your head, blinking the tears away but all that did was make them fall down your cheeks.
“I haven’t even seen him since last winter.” You cried. The physical pain paled in comparison to the pain you felt in your chest from the thought of leaving Lambert without so much as a goodbye.
“And you’ll see him again, darling. We’ll make it through this.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, bard.” The mage spoke from somewhere behind you.
You stiffened up in your seat, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears in your eyes.
A hand found the back of your chair as the mage walked around you.
“Tell me about this lover of yours, Y/N.”
You clenched your teeth together as you glared up at him.
Did the mage know about Lambert? Your stomach churned at the thought.
“Do you think he’d want you to die like this?”
“Fuck off, you son of a whore!” You pulled against your bonds.
“Leave her alone!” Jaskier shouted.
Before anyone could say anything else, there was a crashing noise that came from the bar.
You turned your head, hoping to get a look at whatever it was, but you couldn’t see that far behind you.
“I knew I’d find you here.” Yennefer spoke, her words slurring. “You lazy lout.”
A part of you began to panic even more. She didn’t have her magic anymore, so there was no way she could deal with the mage. She’d end up dead too.
“Leaving me home alone to rot!” She hiccuped.
The mage stood up as he watched her, momentarily forgetting about you.
“Uh, uh…. This is my wife.” Jaskier told the mage. “She has nothing to do with this. Please let her go!”
“If you know what’s good for you, leave.” The mage said, irritated with her presence. “Now.”
There was a pause of silence. You heard a bit of moving around, but you couldn’t figure out what it was.
“If you knew what’s good for you, you’d shut the fuck up.” Yennefer hiccuped again.
“Have it your way.” The mage grabbed Yennefer and suddenly pushed her into a wooden column.
Now they were just outside of your peripherals and you could see exactly what was happening.
“No, no! No, please! Don’t hurt her! Leave her alone, please!” Jaskier begged, frantically gripping the arms of his chair. “She’s done nothing!”
You used the distraction to try to get your binds undone in any way possible. But this only seemed to cause you to rub your wrists raw.
The mage snapped his fingers, causing a flame to appear above his index finger.
Yennefer suddenly spat the alcohol she had been drinking at the mage, setting his face alight. He fell to the floor in pain, crying out.
As fast as she could, she undid both yours and Jaskier’s binds and rushed you out of the tavern.
***
“Who the fuck was that?” Jaskier breathed out, leaning against a doorframe.
“How should I know?” Yennefer looked back in the direction you three had run from. “You’re the ones he kidnapped.”
You leaned against the barrel next to you, your insides swirling around like a storm cloud.
“Oh what? You mages don’t all share an alma mater? You didn’t catch him at an alumni event?”
“You know, I was looking forward to a few more thank yous, perhaps some genuflection.”
You heaved and threw up on the ground. Whether it was from your nerves or the terrible pain in your hands, you weren’t sure. Perhaps it was both.
“Geralt.” You choked out, wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your tunic. “He’s-He’s after Geralt.”
“What?” Yennefer furrowed her brows. “Why? What does he want with him?”
“You know, I assumed it was to drink tea and eat crumpets and wax nostalgic over old times.”
“Jaskier.” You shook your head. You couldn’t catch your breath enough to be able to argue with them. Your chest was tightening and you couldn’t breathe.
“What’s wrong with her?” Yennefer asked.
“I couldn’t tell you. But maybe it’s the fact that we almost died not even three minutes ago!”
Yennefer put her hand on your arm, but you didn’t acknowledge her. You kept your head down, eyes closed tightly as you tried to remember how to calm down.
She tilted your head up, brows furrowed.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?”
“I-I just– I can’t–,” You shook your head. “Lambert. I almost…. And I haven’t seen him.”
“A panic attack.” Jaskier told Yennefer.
“It’ll be alright. Come on. We need to keep moving.” Yennefer put her arm around you to provide you with support.
***
After a confrontation with a group of men that resulted in Yennefer kicking one man in his bullocks, you and Jaskier were split up from the mage. When you found her again, she disappeared right before your eyes.
“Fucking hell!” Jaskier stepped away from the window, rubbing his brow with the heel of his palm. “So much for not having her magic.”
“I-I don’t know how much further I can go, Jask.” You told him, shaking your head softly. “My hands…. They hurt so bad.”
“I know, darling.” He looked up and down the alley. “We need to find shelter.”
“I need to get to Kaer Morhen.”
He looked at you like you’d just spoken an unfamiliar language.
“Kaer Morhen? That’s miles and miles away. A few weeks worth of traveling. We wouldn’t make it far in our state.”
“I was a healer decades ago. I-I know some magic, but not a lot. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything, I don’t know if it’ll work. But I can try to conjure a portal.”
“Try?” He repeated.
“Try. As in, it may lead to where I want it to, or it may lead to the bottom of the ocean.”
Jaskier chuckled, putting his hands on his hips.
“I don’t know if I like those odds, if I’m honest.”
“We don’t have any choice, Jaskier. We need to warn Geralt.”
A somber look came over his features.
“How do you know he’s at Kaer Morhen?”
“Winter is coming. If he isn’t there already, then he will be soon enough.”
“Are you sure this is safe to do, Y/N? I’d really rather not end up at the bottom of the ocean.”
“Neither would I.”
You took a deep breath as you looked around in search for something to draw energy from.
There was a pot of flowers near the door to your left. Hopefully that would be enough.
“Give me your hand, Jaskier.”
***
Ciri stared down at the bowl of stew in front of her. She sat at the same table as Coen, Lambert, and Geralt.
“It’s not going to get any more appetizing the longer you stare at it.” Coen told her.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to keep your energy up.” Geralt said.
She sighed heavily.
With no warning, a portal opened above the table they were at. Having no time to react, the witchers and the princess could only watch as two people fell from the portal. One landed on the table while the other one rolled off into the floor.
“What the fuck!” Lambert shouted, jumping to his feet. He started to reach for the dagger on his hip when he realized it was you who had landed on the table. “Y/N, what the fuck?”
You groaned as you pushed yourself up on to one elbow.
“Jaskier!” You looked around in search for the bard.
“For fuck’s sake, I think I would’ve rather landed in the ocean.” He grumbled as he got to his feet.
“What happened?” Lambert held his hand out for you, wanting to help you down from the table.
“I-I can’t, Lambert.” You looked at your hands.
He followed your gaze, eyes widening as he realized you had been burned terribly.
He clenched his teeth together, turning his attention to the unfamiliar man that had followed you through the portal.
Lambert grabbed the front of Jaskier’s doublet, almost effortlessly hauling him to his feet.
“What the fuck happened to Y/N?”
“Lambert, let him go.” Geralt came to stand by his brother, golden eyes finding Jaskier. “He didn’t hurt her.”
“Geralt’s right, Lambert.” You got down from the table so you could stand beside Jaskier. “It was a mage. He hurt us both.”
Lambert let Jaskier go, growling in frustration.
Jaskier nervously chuckled, straightening his doublet.
“He certainly is a charming one, Y/N.”
Lambert turned his attention back to you. You didn’t let him get a word out before you threw your arms around him.
“I didn’t think I’d see you ever again.” You whispered.
“You’re shaking, bug.” Lambert slipped his arms around you, giving you a firm squeeze.
“I’m just so glad to see you.” You kissed his neck and then his cheek. You wanted so badly to fist his doublet, but you had to remind yourself of the injuries on your fingers.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. “Then we can talk about this mage fucker.”
Taglist will be reblogged because tumblr hates me :)
A/N: This is from another one of my blogs that I decided to seperate my Witcher content from. I plan on deleting the original from that blog so if you have seen this before under a different name I promise I didn’t steal the story!
Pairing: Netflix!Lambert x Fem!Reader
Content and Warnings: Fem!Reader, no use of Y/N, term of endearment “Dove” is used, established marriage, strong language it’s Lambert come on
Word Count: 1,755
Summary: While Lambert is ventured out on a hunt, his wife becomes trapped in their leaky cottage due to terrible flooding.
The cottage you and Lambert shared was nothing to be impressed by. It was small, creaky, leaky, and the wooden floors often came with a high risk of splinters. On the days it rained, you spent most of your time finding spare buckets and other random containers to place underneath the spots in the roof that allowed rainfall to pass through freely.
On the days it was sunny and breezy, you forgot everything that was really wrong with your home, enjoying the natural breeze squeezing through the cracks to cool off you and your three month old Irish wolfhound pup, who your beloved Lambert brought home after a particularly long hunt. He claimed that the pup refused to leave his side after he found her owner dead, unlucky enough to have been killed by an Alghoul. Even after he left the desecrated village, the small puppy continued to follow him. Now, she was the innocent loving little creature who kept you company while Lambert was out on hunts. She made you feel less alone and made it easier to cope with his absence.
Today was a time where the thick droplets of rain were invading your home. Buckets you found inside of the horse barn behind your cottage littered the floors throughout the living room and kitchen. Your puppy, Blair, investigated each and every bucket with her nose, nudging each one as she sniffed them. Her ears perked up from the sounds of the water splashing up from the filled pool of water and hitting the sides of the metallic containers. You were worried about water damage and if your struggling home would hold up, and Blair was having the time of her life. What a playful pup she was.
“Maybe when Lambchop returns home, he’ll see if he can fix some of these holes in the roof….whaddya think, girl?” You spoke to Blair, bending over to lightly scratch the top of her head, smiling as she squeaked in delight. Your hand proved to be more interesting than the bucket now.
As soon as you moved your hand away from petting her, she returned to sniffing the buckets, her curiosity once again taking over. You stood up with a huff, looking around your home, truly taking in how subpar the interior was at the moment. You swore if you took a wrong step, your foot would go straight through the beaten down and rotted floorboards. With this somewhat heavy rain, you weren’t sure how much longer the roof was going to hold. All you could do was think about how badly you wished for Lambert to come back soon. The lack of his presence made you feel uneasy.
The rainy day came and went, the next few turning out to be just the same. A seemingly never ending rain was now beginning to swiftly flood the path leading up to your shared cottage. If the water rose any higher over the next couple of days, you and your helpless pup were going to be trapped.
Lambert’s hunting expeditions were extremely unpredictable, so you were never quite sure when he would return home….or if he would return. Still, you found yourself peeking out the half unhinged front door to the cottage twice every hour, hoping to see his chestnut colored horse, Seraphina, who he affectionately named due to her fiery personality. To your dismay, each peek came with nothing but disappointment. Only rising rain waters and strong gusts of wind threatened you from the unforgiving outdoors.
The following night, you decided you were going to give your most desperate attempt at bringing Lambert home sooner. You brought Blair into your bedroom and closed the door behind you, trying to keep her away from the flood waters that had inched their way inside of the cottage and leaked halfway out into your living room. She whined in protest when you picked her up originally but quickly found comfort and peace curled up at the end of your bed. Seeing this made you wish you could find the same amount of bliss without Lambert filling one side of the bed. You didn’t know what else to do. Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes as you knelt down onto the rough floor, leaning your elbows on the edge of the mattress. You began to pray to the gods. You prayed for his faster return, his safe return, and you prayed that the gods would listen in the first place. When you were done, you still felt an uncomfortable emptiness. He still was not home and rainwater still threatened the already questionable stability of your home. How were you going to get yourself through this?
Morning came as slowly as it ever had, you spending most of the night lying awake and waiting for the water to inevitably reach your bedroom. This time, however, as dawn appeared, rays of sunshine appeared with it. The warmth of the light felt almost unfamiliar after days of cold and wet fear. Using the light to your advantage, you glanced down to check the state of your bedroom floor. Sure enough, to your horror, the water beneath you was slowly lapping at the edge of your bed. You awoke Blair from her unaware slumber, clutching her close to you. Rather than the rain and flooding soaking her fur, your tears were doing the job just as well.
You were out of hope. Your will was slowly and painfully being drowned under the relentless and unforgiving waters. The front of your cottage was surely lost, furniture and food with it. There were no other horses residing in the barn, as you weren’t typically one for adventure and travel, contrasting the man you had fallen in love with. Clothes that usually had their place in the homemade trunk in the corner of your bedroom were now floating on the surface of the murky cold waters mixing with the mud and grit on the ground. You had nothing but Blair, and nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape.
“Dove?!?”
You lifted your sunken head and wiped some of the tears staining your face. Were you hearing things? Was that a voice, or the gods taunting you?
“Dove?!? You in here? Son of a bitch, you better be alive in here, woman!”
No. You knew that voice. That voice was warmth.
“Lambert??” You called out, your voice hoarse and trembling. “Lambert, is that you?!?”
“Yes, it’s me! What in the ever living fuck are you still doing here?” Lambert’s voice was getting closer, the sounds of heavy sloshing water accompanying it.
“Where was I gonna go, Lamb, you’ve got Seraphina with you! I can’t exactly ride Blair out into the woods!” Blair started to lick your face as you spoke.
“Shit, shit, for FUCK’S SAKE! I’m coming!”
You let out a sigh of relief. Your rugged off roading husband was on his way to you and your sweet pup.
“Wait, are you trudging through the water and mud?”
“Ah, not exactly, dove. Think my trousers would be torn to shreds in this thick shit.” Lambert answered, his voice sounding like he was merely inches away from the bedroom door.
Then you heard it. A loud but quick neighing came from outside the door. The gods certainly couldn’t be playing a joke on you now.
“Lamb….my love….did you bring your horse into the house?”
“Well, how else was I gonna carry you out of here? I’m just thinkin’ smart! Seraphina’s a lot taller than I am, Dove.”
You rolled your eyes at your self proclaimed genius of a husband, although still more than thankful that he was there to rescue you. Just a moment later, your bedroom door slowly creaked open, resisting against the rising water.
“Holy shit.” Lambert cussed.
He eyed the water that was starting to rise above the edge of the mattress you were huddled on, thinly coating the bottom of Blair’s paws. The hem of the silken nightgown on your figure was beginning to flow with the water.
“Alright, let’s go before you turn into a Drowner. I’m not into that.”
“Lambert, you find humor in the weirdest things, you know.”
Lambert shrugged his shoulders and reached down to grab Blair as you held her up in the air, wanting to keep her safe before yourself. After the pup was seated on his lap, he reached into a pouch on the side of Seraphina’s saddle and pulled out a leather strap with a buckle on it.
“Hold still, ya little shit.” Lambert scolded as he tried to prop up Blair against his chest. As soon as she calmed down more and lessened her wiggling, he gently wrapped the strap around himself and the confused puppy, locking the buckle in place to create a secure holder for her. “Arms up, Dove.”
You stood and balanced yourself using the posts to the headboard on the now soaked bed, reaching your arms out to meet Lambert’s.
“Jump!” Lambert ordered.
You did as he said without question and jumped up, your landing being supported by his weight. You didn’t quite make it to the top of Seraphina’s saddle, your feet submerging and dragging through the opaque water.
“Son of a bitch!” Lambert grunted as he caught your body, using his upper strength to lift you up the rest of the way.
After you shifted yourself to properly sit on the horse, he directed her out of the bedroom, into the living room, and out of the cottage. The water was so deep and caked in layers of mud that the sound of Seraphina’s hooves were seemingly mute.
“Lamb….where are we gonna go?”
A heavy silence filled the air.
“The flood just took our home….we have nothing.” You continued, your voice cracking.
“Not to be a sappy shit but, Dove, you’re my home. Wherever we go, I’ll be home as long as I’ve got ya’.”
You leaned forward to rest your cheek on your husband’s back. Just moments ago, you were fearing for your life and wondering if your grave was going to be the dark and cold depths of the floods, afraid that your precious pup was going to share the same fate. Now, you were atop your love’s prized horse off to find another home, snuggled into his back, with Blair strapped in safely against his front like she were a human child. You knew he loved that pup, and there was nothing he could say now to convince you otherwise.
Fucking hell show Lambert is so hot, I’d climb him like a tree. Lambert in general is sexy but something about his beautiful red hair just does stuff to me.
The long hair, the beard. I’d kill people just to get the chance to lay my eyes on him in person. This man makes me feral
Lambert headcanon for youuuu. Jaskier loves Lambert's curls and mentions a "curly girl method" and Lambert is just like ???? and very confused but ends up googling it and ending up more confused and he's not sure how to ask Jask what to do, except he really wants nice shiny curls and to look after his hair, and Jaskier would know, dammit, but asking him is terrifying because what if Jask laughs? Except he doesn't laugh, he just sits Lambert down and helps him buy everything he needs and sits outside the bathroom door scrolling through his phone and yelling at Lambert what to do next and Lambert has the prettiest hair and he's pretty sure Jaskier giving him a scalp massage wasn't necessary to the process but he is not going to complain.
hjdffsdf yes?? please?? oh my god, the high school au wasn't even supposed to be netflix!lambert, but ho boy, now he is. thank you for this, nonnie, i can perfectly see this, jaskier sitting by the bathroom door, crolling through social media, blowing bubble gum bubbles and being extremely calm while lambert is having a mild crisis in the bathroom. cat roach comes to sit beside jaskier for a while but is soon bothered by lambert's rummaging so she leaves again, which jaskier begrudges lambert for.
