#is this part of my Lambert lives au ? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

solcorvidae · 5 months

Text

Modern Witcher AU: My Headcanons (part 2 of ?)

Jaskier was put in a ton of winter sports as a kid. He knows how to ski and ice skate very well. He can snowboard but prefers skiing.

Geralt, on the other hand, never learned to skate. He and Eskel have not been able to find skates that fit their boot size since they were teenagers.

Geralt likes yard work more than other household chores. He likes maintaining the garden and arranging a nice living space to hangout in and Jaskier is very appreciative.

Jaskier is usually super busy in the winter months. He attends get togethers, dinners, parties, etc. Geralt does the opposite. He and his family head home for some time to relax and catch up with one another after being on the road. They don’t often do big activities or social events, mostly staying in the house with each other for the duration of their stay.

Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert shared a room until Geralt started to get into his teen years. Their childhood room had a bunk bed for the two oldest boys and a single bed for Lambert. Lambert eventually took over Vesemir’s office and it was converted to his new room. Now, they each have normal bed frames that sit on the floor.

Geralt wears a dark brown, felt, pinch front cowboy hat. He is very attuned to the etiquette and superstitious beliefs around wearing one.

Eskel and Jaskier are the same height (6’0)

Geralt is 6’3 but often people assume he’s shorter. He slouches when he sits and tries to take up as little metaphorical space in the room as he can. When he stands up, his posture is straight as a board and this adds to the surprise many people feel when they see how tall he really is.

Eskel is the opposite. He has a large but warm and inviting presence when he enters a room. He makes himself known and takes up a lot of space with his big personality. People often assume he must be taller than he really is and are often surprised when they stand next to him and see eye to eye.

Lambert is 5’11 and bitter about it.

Eskel has textured, somewhat oily skin but shockingly left his acne struggles in his teen years.

Geralt was blessed with little to no acne most of his life—including as a teenager.

Lambert hasn’t quite grown out of it and still gets the occasional (relatively mild) blemish. They usually appear when his disposable razor starts to get dull and begins to irritate the skin--Geralt tries to get him to invest in a safety razor, to no avail.

All three boys share a bathroom at Vesemir's house and Vesemir has his own tiny ensuite bathroom. He doesn't care if they trash their own space as long as it doesn't start growing mysterious molds…

Everyone having different hair colours (especially Geralt) meant that it was difficult to blame each other for hair left in the bottom of the tub/sink. But oh did Lambert try.

They are banned from using Vesemir's bathroom unless they absolutely have to. The shower however, is non negotiable. It is off limits altogether.

The only exception to this rule is when any of the boys are sick. When one of them is ill, Vesemir sets them up on the floor with blankets and a pillow so they don't have to keep running to the bathroom in the middle of the night. It also helps that he can keep an eye on them and monitor if they start getting worse or need to go to urgent care—Eskel was particularly bad for lying about not being sick for a long time.

As a child Geralt would wake up every night in the middle of the night from the dead of sleep and be afraid to fall back asleep on his own. He always climbed to the top bunk where Eskel slept and he felt safe. If Eskel wasn't there or he didn't want to wake him, Geralt would walk to Vesemir's room to fall asleep in his dads bed where he felt just as safe. It took him a long time to grow out of this habit.

Even though his boys are all grown up, Vesemir would never turn them away from any sort of "childish" comfort, especially when they're going through a particularly hard time. If they ever needed a hug or wanted to fall asleep in his room, all they had to do was ask.

[Modern AU Headcanon Masterpost]

#hypothermic ao3 #the witcher modern au #I could write a million of these tbh #kaer morons #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #eskel #lambert #vesemir #julian alfred pankratz #eskel witcher #lambert witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher headcanon #sol scribbles

69 notes · View notes

mintaka14 · 6 months

Text

Chapter 8 of Living Arrangements (Lukanette And They Were Roommates! AU) is done. It's been a longer wait for it than I had anticipated, but I hope you enjoy it.

Living Arrangements

A Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction

By Mintaka14

Chapter 8 – Music Again

There had been many moons before I met you

And I don’t know when (I last put paper to pen)

And now you give me back my raison d’etre

And I’m inspired again

[Music Again: Adam Lambert]

Luka flexed his hand against the frets of his guitar, stretching out his stiff fingers. He squinted down at the pages of manuscript and scribbled notes in front of him, and realised that the quality of light in the room had changed. The dark sky outside the windows had picked up a faint stain of rose and gold, lightening with the first hints of an autumn dawn.

As the creative rush wore off, Luka came back to an awareness of the room around him, and the way his back was aching from being hunched over his guitar for so long. He ran a hand through his hair and yawned hugely.

He leaned back, staring down at the scatter of pages all over the coffee table and the floor under it. They were thick with musical notation, and ideas for lyrics, that might develop into something, but one or two of them were… something good.

Luka could hear the alarm go off in Marinette’s bedroom, followed by a thump and the flustered noises that meant Marinette had just woken up. He couldn’t help smiling, even as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Carefully, he set his guitar aside, pulling himself to his feet, and another stray manuscript page fluttered from his lap to the floor as he shuffled towards the kitchen.

By the time Marinette had emerged, yawning and rumpled, the kettle had boiled and the coffee just finished brewing.

“Coffee, Melody?” he asked her, and the nickname rolled off his tongue without a thought. He grinned as she stuck out both hands to take the mug he offered her. The grin morphed into another yawn.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Marinette scolded. “Luka!”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “And what time did you turn out your light?” he teased her back. “I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one on a creative kick.”

She glanced at the living room, and the pages he’d left strewn everywhere. “You were writing?” she asked, in a softer voice, and he shrugged self-consciously.

“Just… tinkering with something. So what was keeping you up last night? Working on your finals?”

He looked up to find Marinette’s eyes on him, her mouth parted a little. She jolted a little as their eyes met, and abruptly dropped her gaze. Behind her coffee mug, Marinette flushed pink.

“No, just… something I’ve been tinkering with,” she echoed his words.

Her eyes drifted back to the piles of music manuscript, and Luka waited for her to ask the questions that he could see chasing themselves across her transparent features. Instead, Marinette turned back to her mug. She buried her face in the steam, and took another sip of coffee. Luka couldn’t help the soft little chuckle at her heartfelt sigh.

“Well, hopefully, it was a productive night for you, too,” he said. “Sounds like you need that coffee this morning.”

“Thank goodness I don’t have any classes today,” Marinette mumbled into her mug. “I’m not sure I could stay awake.”

“What are you doing up, then?”

“Meeting Alya for early lunch at Café Calibré. I have to do a few things on the way, though, so…” she waved at her pyjamas and messy hair, and wrinkled her nose. “At least I’m used to running on three hours’ sleep and caffeine.”

“Not sure that’s a good thing,” he told her, as she finished her coffee. Marinette stared down at the empty dregs, and Luka’s smile grew at the mournful little sound she made.

“Want another one?” he offered, but she shook her head, and moved past him to wash her mug in the sink.

“I wish I could, but I’d better get going. If I can make it as far as the café, I’ll get another one then. Alya owes me at least that much.”

“Good luck,” he said, and she must have heard the hint of dry humour that he couldn’t quite keep out of his voice at the mention of Alya, because she turned and flashed him a mischievous grin over her shoulder before her bedroom door closed behind her.

~~~~~

The moment Marinette closed her bedroom door, an assortment of kwamis emerged from whatever corners they’d been hiding in. Some of them paused in their antics to regard her curiously, but Marinette’s attention was riveted on the half-finished coat for Luka that she had stayed up to work on until way later than she should have.

She was happy with the way the cut of the coat hinted at presence without flash, and the way she’d hopefully managed to give it an easy style without sacrificing comfort. The embellishment was exactly the subtle depth with a fluid movement and a hint of humour that she’d been trying for, but she frowned at the embroidered snakes twining down the face of the coat. The whole design, she decided, was missing something. It needed something more intense, something like the heart of a blue flame…

“Marinette?” Tikki asked, drawing closer to hover beside her shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

“Luka’s… I think he’s writing music again,” she said absently, and Sass reared up from his nest near the window to eye her with interest.

… maybe those deep blue glass beads that she’d been saving for the right project, the ones that sparked like fire when the light caught them…

She could hear a soft little hiss of satisfaction from Sass, and one of the kwamis whispering, “But I don’t get it – he’s always playing music, isn’t he?”

“Luka is creating his own music again,” Tikki explained, and did a happy little spiral in mid-air. Creation always spoke to her, and a smile tugged at the corners of Marinette’s mouth in response, even as she subjected the coat to a measuring stare.

Her fingers twitched towards the jars of beads above her work table, but she curled them tightly against the impulse, and reached for her own clothes to change into instead. Luka’s coat could wait, but she needed to get moving if she wanted to run her errands and still make it to the café on time.

Dress and leggings went on quickly enough, but she gave up trying to get her hair to cooperate, and bundled it into two hasty pigtails, and then grabbed her handbag for Tikki to hide in.

“Be good,” she admonished the roomful of watching kwamis, without much hope that they would pay attention to her.

The living room was still covered in a snowfall of manuscript as she passed it, but there was no sign of Luka. His bedroom door was closed, though, and Marinette could only hope that he’d decided to get some sleep. The mug of coffee he’d made for her was definitely wearing off by the time she made it to the café where she and Alya usually met, and she spared a longing thought for her own bed as she pushed open the door.

She wasn’t late, but Alya was already waiting. Alya looked up impatiently from her phone as Marinette came into the cafe amid a flurry of jangling from the bell over the door.

“Girl, what’s been going on? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all week, and you didn’t even answer my texts,” she was saying before Marinette had even reached the table. “I wasn��t even sure you were going to turn up today.”

“I’ve been busy,” Marinette said, and leaned down to give her friend a quick hug, before she dropped into the seat opposite Alya. She’d started to answer Alya’s messages several times, and ended up overthinking every word until it had felt a little late to send anything at all. Here in person, though, Alya just swept past it all without a mention of their fight, and Marinette felt a little silly for putting off talking to her best friend. “Don’t you have finals coming up too?”

“That’s nearly two months away. There are much more important things to think about.” Alya leaned in, fixing Marinette with a triumphant eye. “Guess who called Nino last night?” she demanded.

“Oh my god, that producer he’s been trying to contact?”

Alya checked at that. “No, but this is almost as good. Adrien! And he’s coming back to Paris!”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Nice?” Alya stared at her as if she was waiting for something more, and then, when nothing was forthcoming, she said drily, “Yeah, it’ll be really nice to see him again. Nino’s planning to try and get everyone together for a sort of reunion or something.”

“That sounds good.”

Marinette was distracted when the waitress arrived with the coffee she desperately needed to stay awake. When she looked up, her friend was subjecting her to another speculative stare, but then the waitress slid the second cup and a plate of pastries in front of Alya.

“He asked about you,” Alya said, reaching for one of the croissants. She took a bite, and added casually, “So I gave him your phone number.”

Marinette almost spilled the coffee in her lap.

“Alya! You said you weren’t going to do that anymore.”

Alya raised an eyebrow at her over the remains of the pastry. “Do what?”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“He’s an old school friend,” Alya said innocently, but the gleam in her eyes almost dared Marinette to contradict her. “I thought you said you’d been over him for years, so why would it be a big deal if he gets in touch with you?”

“Alya –“ Marinette groaned.

“It’s just catching up with an old school friend. Did you really want me to tell Adrien that you don’t want to see him, when he asked about you specifically?”

Marinette spent too long trying to process through the things she wanted to say, until eventually Alya leaned back with a smug smirk.

“Fine, then, just tell him you don’t want to meet up when he calls,” she said with a shrug.

In spite of Alya’s insistence, Marinette wasn’t seriously expecting Adrien to actually call her, and two days later when her phone rang with an unfamiliar number she answered it without thinking.

“Marinette?” an oddly familiar voice said, and Marinette nearly dropped the phone.

The voice was a little deeper than she remembered, and different, too, to the way it sounded in the media soundbites, but it sent her straight back to her flustered, awkward collège years.

“Adrien?” she squeaked, and tried to cover up the embarrassing sound with a cough. There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone call.

“It’s been too long,” the voice said. “How have you been?”

~~~~~

Luka could hear Marinette and his sister in the living room as he pulled off his headphones and shoved aside the thesis he’d been working on. He got to his feet and went to join them, desperate for a break, and maybe a chance to get down the melody that had been teasing at the back of his mind for the past fifteen minutes. It was hard to focus on papers and exam prep when several years’ worth of unwritten music was flooding through his mind all at once.

He came into the living room to find Marinette in the middle of getting ready to go out, and Juleka watching her from the depths of an armchair with a look of judgement on her face.

“It’s not like I could tell him I didn’t want to see him,” Marinette was saying defensively. “What would you have said if he’d called you and said he wanted to meet up?”

Juleka scrunched up her face like she wanted to argue the point, but couldn’t without being hypocritical. He could still remember his little sister hiding behind her curtain of hair, shying away from conflict, growing up. She’d gotten better at holding her own, but confrontation was never going to be easy for her.

Unless it was him. Juleka had no problem with telling her big brother to shove off, and Luka took that as the gift of trust that it was.

It occurred to him, as he watched the girls bicker while Marinette located her bag and her sketchbook, that Juleka was quite happy to argue with Marinette, too.

“And you’re wearing your lucky shirt,” Juleka pointed out accusingly.

Marinette glanced down self-consciously at the delicate pink top she was wearing. “I’m meant to be a fashion designer here. I’m not going to turn up for coffee with the son of one of Paris’ top fashion houses in just any old thing. This blouse got me into the summer designers program last year,” Marinette shot back, her colour heightened.

“I can see why. It’s gorgeous,” Luka said from where he was leaning against the doorframe, and Marinette’s head jerked up at the sound of his voice. “You’re incredibly talented.”

She bit her lip at the compliment, but a pleased and proud little smile teased at the corners of her mouth.

“Is this for a job interview?” he asked, wondering about her reference to a fashion house.

“Just an old school friend,” Marinette said, but Luka could see the flush deepen on the curve of her cheek as she turned away and grabbed her keys from the bowl.

Juleka gave an inelegant snort.

“I’ve got to get going, otherwise I’m going to be late,” Marinette said, dropping her keys into her bag.

“Yeah, you don’t want to be late for Adrien,” Juleka muttered under her breath, and Luka shot his sister a warning glance as he bent to scoop up his guitar from where he’d left it beside the couch.

“Have fun,” he said mildly, and Marinette threw him a grateful, slightly embarrassed smile. He waited until the front door closed behind her before he asked his sister, “What was all that about?”

“Adrien’s back,” Juleka said sourly, and slumped lower in the armchair, “and practically the first thing he does is call Marinette. I’d bet my favourite camera that Alya had something to do with that.”

“I thought Alya had backed off on the matchmaking schemes.”

“Alya doesn’t just give up – she changes tactics.” She tilted her head, obviously subjecting that to some consideration, then added, “Although I don’t think even Alya could bring Adrien Agreste back to Paris just to get Marinette a date, but she’d be more than capable of taking advantage of it once he was here.”

“This is the model you used to go to school with, that Marinette liked? He’s back in Paris?” Luka said slowly, as he tuned his guitar and let his fingers wander idly over the strings.

“She says they’re just catching up for a coffee,” Juleka said, her voice as dry as sand.

“Then that’s what she’s doing,” Luka said without looking up. He drifted into the melody that had been distracting him. The stark chords weren’t quite right, but modulated into a descending minor seventh… he tried it again, testing the feel of it.

Juleka eyed him. “You are such a dumbass.”

He could have pretended he didn’t know what she was talking about, but it felt like an argument he didn’t want to have. Instead, he focused on his fingering.

Juleka stayed in her armchair, listening to him for a while, and then said abruptly, “So, Dad’s been calling you again?”

Luka grimaced at her choice of subject change, but kept playing.

“He’s been trying to get me back into the studio. He’s got some new idea, and wants to get me involved.”

“Well, I wish you’d answer your messages, because he’s calling me now,” Juleka said sourly, and Luka sighed.

“I love Jay, I really do, but –“

“I know.”

“I’ll talk to Penny.”

“I don’t think Penny knows about this. I suspect she wouldn’t be too happy about it.” She gave him a sidelong glance. “Does he know that you’re writing again?”

“No, and he’s not going to.”

He kept tinkering with the tune he was hearing in his head. There was another long, pointed silence from his sister until eventually, with a heavy sigh, she levered herself out of the armchair.

“Have fun wallowing,” she told him.

Luka ignored her until she’d disappeared up the stairs, and he frowned at the minor fifth he’d just played. He modulated it into a major, and tried again, but the upbeat key was jarring. It needed… damn.

Juleka was right.

~~~~~

When the sound of Rose’s video call chimed, Juleka was busy screaming into her pillow.

“Jules?” Rose’s voice was muffled by the padding over Juleka’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she grumbled, and pulled the pillow down. “My brother’s just an idiot.”

Rose laughed and cast her eyes up. “Well, yes, but you love him anyway. What’s he done now?”

“He’s downstairs writing sad music because Marinette’s having coffee with Adrien Agreste, and I swear, if he tells me one more time he’s happy for her I’m going to –“ she broke off, unable to think of anything dire enough for the moment. The camera swooped at the other end of the call, and when Rose righted it again, her blue eyes were wide with barely suppressed reaction.

“Adrien’s back? Wait… did you say writing music?”

“Yes, and yes,” Juleka confirmed, slumping down in her desk chair. “My life is hell.”

“I… don’t even know where to start,” Rose squeaked, and Juleka heaved a put-upon sigh as her girlfriend vibrated on the spot. It almost looked like the screen was blurring, then the image steadied and Rose scooted closer, until her face filled the screen.

“Tell me everything,” she demanded.

#lukanette #pro lukamari #and they were roommates #living arrangements #ml au #they're idiots your honor

22 notes · View notes

thethumpergod · 7 months

Text

Lambert gets a cat (Modern AU)

Aiden wasn't there the next week, or even the week after.

Lambert could feel the guilt weighing him down as he knocked again. He wanted to apologize, be friends again, anything. Even worse, he had nothing to do today, and drinking didn't help. The only thing he could think of was to go for a run; maybe that would help.

It was the muddier part of the season and the weather had been gods awful for two weeks. He didn't mind the rain but running was more of a chore than normal. Most of his energy went to dodging puddles along the sidewalk. The last thing he needed was soggy shoes fucking up his day more.

Lambert's rhythmic jog in the rain was accompanied by soothing tunes playing through his headphones. As he approached a row of trash cans, a faint, noise cut through the music. A hardly noticeable sound, that would repeat every few seconds. With his curiosity peaked, he turned off his music.

It's meowing. He approached a trash can and looked inside, there was a ball of fur staring at Lambert. It was a small orange kitten with massive scared green eyes. The little thing was missing a part of its ear and was covered in dirt and huddled amidst the discarded waste.

"Gods, what happened to you? " Lambert says, staring into the kitten's eyes. It was so small that it could probably fit in one of his hands. It would die out in the rain if it were left here... Who the fuck put him in there?

It admittedly took multiple attempts of trying to get the kitten. The little guy definitely has an opinion about being put into stranger's jackets.

After an expensive trip to the veterinary clinic, Lambert learned that the kitten was malnourished and had a broken leg. Some sick fuck did this to him. Despite his initial intention to leave the kitten there, it just didn't feel right.

When he gets home, Lambert is holding the cat inside his jacket. The kitten, whom he will just call Cat, looks pissed. "Okay, Cat. I'm going to have to kitty-proof this place real quick."

He wasn't sure why he was speaking to him, but it felt right. He rattles off a checklist as he moves things around. "Cleaning supplies, medicines, and small items—anything I don't want to be destroyed." It doesn't take long to store away 'non-kitten friendly' things. "Now, I have to cover the cords around the house..."

He has everything they need, including a small bed where they can hide. "Okay, cat. You can stay in the living room for now." He says as he makes his way to the cage. The little guy had his arms stretched out and wiggled around. Yowling dramatically, he waves his paws around. "Shit. I'll let you out," he laughs. He puts him on the floor. There's a flash of orange, and the kitten is under the couch.

Lambert can play the waiting game, he sighs.

The plan was to keep the kitten till it was strong…. That was the plan but the right time never seemed to show up. He was still small and hadn't proved himself to be a pain in the ass yet.

Now don't get him wrong, he's not staying forever. He just doesn't want to send a kitten off to somewhere where they won't survive.

So, naturally, he had to find things for the cat to play with and general pet care items. The little guy needs something aside from a litter box and trips to the vet.

He found himself at The House of Cats, of all places. There happened to be a few pet shops along the street which was walking distance from the apartments.

A woman with fuzzy blond hair wearing more bracelets than he could count smiles at him. She wore a long scarf around her head and a flowy flower dress that reached her feet.

"You're Lambert, right?"

"How do you know my name?" Lambert says, taken aback by the hippie woman.

"I'm Dragonfly, Aiden told me about you." Judging by the fact that she was still smiling, he assumed that was a positive thing. "Have you come to check out the adoption event?"

"Oh, I was just walking around."

"We've almost got everyone adopted," she says, motioning for him to follow her. "Gaetan, come show Aiden's friend around."

A young man sighs and drags himself off the chair he was sitting fetal-style in. He had a shaved head and brown eyes. He wore all black, from his suit shirt to his formal shoes. "Wait, this is Aiden's- You're Lambert." He clenches his jaw, and his nostrils flare. The dude looked nothing like Aiden aside from the sharp features

"You’re Aiden’s brother? Wait, I’ve seen you before."

He’d seen him talking to plenty of nobles before. He’s a lawyer for an infamous firm down in the southern region. From what he’s heard, they’ll defend everybody as long as the paycheck is good.

“It seems we work for the same crowd.” Gaetan looks at him like he's a sack of shit. "My brother sure makes interesting choices."

"Gaetan. Just show the man around, will you?" Dragonfly shakes her head at him.

"Fine. Follow me," the guy says, heading to the beginning of the tables, clearly wanting to get this over with. "Most people wanted the popular cats at the cafe, like Milo."

"That was Aiden's favorite cat."

"I know; that's why I adopted her before anyone else could. I brought her to my apartment yesterday." Lambert sighed in relief for Aiden as Gaetan looked at him dryly. "Clementine, Jasper, and Lily are permanent residents of the cafe."

"He means that they're my cats," Dragonfly snorts. Gaetan grumbles as he passes empty cage after empty cage.

"So, what's the cat stuff about?" A voice says behind him. It was the blonde waiter, staring into his bag.

"Huh? Really?" Gaetan looks at him skeptically."You have a cat?"

"I found him in the trash, so I'm taking care of him till I find him a home." He shrugs.

"How long has the cat been staying with you?" Axel smiles.

"Like two days," Lambert shrugs. He pulls out his phone to show the one good photo he had of the cat. Cat only stayed still when it was taking its 30th nap of the day, tuckered from doing fuck all. He had a bright orange cast on his left front leg, that made him waddle when he walked.

"A rag doll kitten!" Dragonfly beams, "Y'know what I think I have a few things you can have for the cat. You just wait here."

After a few glares from Gaetan and a shit ton of boxes handed his way, he arrives home.

Sitting up the scratching pose for the kitten, he hopes it will save his couch. Cat had resorted to attacking his boots whenever he walked past him. Clearly, he was not very appreciative of the collar he put on him. It was just so the little fucker could be brought back if he ran off.

He's only going to be here for a few weeks at most, no need to get attached.

#Lambert becomes a cat dad #art #the witcher #artists on tumblr #fanart #aiden the witcher #lambert #modern au #fanfic #cat #gaetan the witcher #Axel the witcher #dragonfly the witcher

10 notes · View notes

ghostinthelibrarywrites · 2 years

Note

for the touches ask game, may I request geraskier + 26 (kisses) please? 🥺

26. giggling while kissing

Here’s a Geraskier modern with magic AU loosely inspired by this amazing video of a pole-dancing Jaskier that’s been all over Tumblr for the last couple of days. No warnings, rated M for mild horniness.

It's nearly midnight when Geralt makes it back to his apartment building, limping a little as his bum knee protests the cold weather and getting thrown through a wall by a katakan earlier that day.

He would have been home earlier, but he's gotten into the habit of showering at Eskel and Lambert's place before returning home after the time he tracked selkiemore guts all over the lobby and the concierge looked like he was going to pass out. It never mattered when he lived in his shitty studio in Silverton, but since moving into Jaskier's swanky Gildorf penthouse, he has to be careful not to get innards and ichor on the gleaming marble floors.

Geralt nods to the concierge, who has never forgiven him for the selkiemore incident, as he passes. The man gives him a cool look and returns to reading his book, which is just as well. Geralt has been tracking a katakan for the better part of a week with Eskel and Lambert and he doesn't have the energy for the kind of polite small talk Jaskier excels at.

Instead, he gets into the elevator and puts in the code for the top floor penthouse, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. Jaskier never responded to Geralt's text telling him he was on his way back, so he's probably in bed by now. Geralt will have to be careful not to disturb him; his boyfriend gets cranky when his beauty sleep is interrupted.

The elevator doors open and Geralt is hit with a wall of sound. It's one of Jaskier's songs, blaring at full volume as Jaskier wails about the mercilessness of Cupid’s arrow. As if on cue, an arrow comes flying past Geralt, hitting the wall behind him. Geralt is already reaching for his sword when it hits him that no assassin he knows would use pink, sparkly arrows with heart-shaped arrowheads that stick to the wall.

"Geralt! You're home!"

Geralt wonders if the blood loss got to him before remembering that he didn't actually lose any blood on this hunt. Because a pole has been erected in the middle of his living room, right where there was once a coffee table that cost more than his car. Hanging onto it is Jaskier, wearing nothing but a pair of dinosaur-patterned boxer briefs and a quiver of pink arrows, holding a bow.

"What the fuck?" Geralt asks. The elevator door starts to close and he just has the presence of mind to step out of the elevator before it takes him back down to the lobby. Only after the doors have closed does he remember the arrow stuck to the wall. Oh well, the concierge already hates them.

"How was your hunt?" Jaskier is hanging upside down from the pole, his thighs and abdomen quivering with the effort.

“Why the fuck is there a pole in the middle of our living room?” Geralt demands, shouting to be heard over the music.

“I’m practicing for my Midsummer Music Awards performance.”

“Don’t you have stunt doubles for that?”

“Stunt doubles are all well and good for music videos, but not for live performances.” Jaskier winces as he slides down the pole an inch.

Geralt sighs, puts down his gear, and goes to turn the music off. “Is this about Valdo Marx’s stunt last year?”

“What?” Jaskier squawks, as if he hadn’t spent weeks fuming over the publicity surrounding Valdo Marx’s on-stage acrobatics last year, which had involved flaming batons and very little clothing—which seemed like a bad idea to Geralt, but what did he know? He was just a witcher, not an award-winning musician. “Of course not. This is about artistic integrity and… okay, and showing Valdo fucking Marx what a real performance looks like.”

“Hm.” Geralt lets his eyes wonder. “Your fans will love the dinosaur boxers. Or are you going to dress up like a sexy Cupid?”

His boyfriend doesn’t dignify that with a response. “I’m actually getting pretty good with the bow and arrow.”

Geralt glances at the target, which is a good yard away from the elevator doors. “I can see that.”

Jaskier harrumphs and reaches for the quiver of sparkly arrows. The movement is too much for his legs’ tenuous grip on the pole and with a squeak of alarm, he begins to slide.

Geralt is there before he can hit the ground, scooping him up and spinning him around. Jaskier flails for a moment, not registering the fact that he isn’t still falling, before he wraps his legs around Geralt’s waist and his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. He clears his throat, cheeks pink. Geralt’s knee twinges a bit at the weight in his arms, but it’s worth it for Jaskier’s adorably sheepish expression.

“I meant to do that,” Jaskier says primly.

Geralt fights to keep his expression serious. “Clearly.”

“I could tell you wanted an excuse to cuddle. So I provided.”

“Noble of you.”

“Well, if nobility were still a thing in Redania, I would be a viscount, darling.”

“I had no idea. You’ve never mentioned that.”

“You know me. I don’t like to brag.”

They look at each other for a minute, Jaskier still wrapped around Geralt as tightly as he’d been wrapped around the pole.

Jaskier begins to laugh first, little snorting giggles that are nothing like the booming laugh he always affects when they’re out in public. Geralt can’t resist the giggles, as much as he tries; his shoulders start to shake with his own suppressed laughter, which only makes Jaskier giggle harder. Jaskier leans his forehead against Geralt’s and Geralt is helpless to do anything but kiss him. It’s far from their most elegant kiss, with both of them unable to stop laughing, but it’s all the sweeter for it.

“I am wearing a sexy Cupid costume for the show,” Jaskier says between kisses, still giggling.

Geralt nuzzles his cheek, breathing in the scent of him. Gods, he always misses this when he’s away on contracts. “With wings?”

“Of course! What’s a sexy Cupid without wings?”

“Cupids don’t exist. Sexy or otherwise.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to put a disclaimer before all my performances from now on.”

“Hm.”

“I can go get the costume.” Jaskier draws back to waggle his eyebrows. “Give you the full show.”

Geralt is surprised by how tempting that is.

“Or.” Jaskier’s lips twitch in that way they always do when he’s very proud of whatever terrible innuendo he’s about to make. “I could just slide down your pole.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, come on.” Jaskier waggles his eyebrows. “It’s only fair. I nearly shot you with my arrow earlier. It’s time for you to shoot me with yours.”

“That makes no sense,” Geralt deadpans.

“Geralt.” Jaskier tries to look long-suffering, even as he starts to giggle again. “I’m obviously talking about your—”

Geralt cuts him off with a kiss, muffling his snorts of laughter. “You’re not half as funny as you think you are.”

“That still makes me pretty damn funny.”

“Sure.”

Jaskier wiggles in his arms. “Just for that, you don’t get to see my bow and—Geralt!” He cackles as Geralt throws him over his shoulder and starts towards the bedroom. “You fiend! You shouldn’t manhandle the man holding a crossbow!”

“Not a crossbow, Jask.”

“You shouldn’t manhandle the man holding some kind of bow!”

“It would be more threatening if you knew what kind of bow it was. Or had managed to hit the target.”

“Oh, just you wait, witcher,” Jaskier says as Geralt pushes his way into the bedroom. “As soon as I manage to hit a target, you will be the first to know.”

“Especially if I’m standing ten feet away from the target.”

“What are you implying?”

Geralt laughs and gently drops Jaskier on the bed to kiss him again, cutting off his outraged babble. Later, he thinks he’ll enjoy watching Jaskier’s dance routine, Cupid outfit and all. He won’t even mind if he accidentally gets shot with one of the fake arrows. But for now, this is all he needs—the curve of Jaskier’s smile against his cheek, Jaskier’s bright laughter in his ears, and the knowledge that he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

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

Touches Ask Game

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

158 notes · View notes

bardcore-jaskier · 1 year

Text

♡ My thoughts on Veskier + headcanons ♡

- One of the rarest rare pairs in the Witcher fandom for sure! And guess what? I LOVE IT!!!

- They chose the perfect actor to play Vesemir in season 2! Kim Bodnia is a charismatic Danish actor with a charming accent, his performance was AMAZING!

- As of season 2, I personally am a bit cross with most characters in the series for the way they treated Jaskier. Geralt used Jaskier for his loyalty and his apology was shit, so Geraskier prompts/ideas don't come to me as quickly as they used to.

- Lauren went and killed off Eskel, so to cook up some Jaskel content it would have to be an AU where he doesn't die and would require a LOT of creativity not only to make it possible for him to be alive, but also mix and match his personality from video clips of his game counterpart on YouTube, since Eskel didn't get enough screen time on Netflix to show the entirety of his character.

- Lambert was an absolute dick to Jaskier, so Lambskier is rocky too, Lambskier's only saving grace is that Lambert and Jaskier didn't have a lot of scenes together, leaving a lot of room for thinking up ways in which those two could bond.

- WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY CURRENT FAVORITE JASKIER SHIPS: Yennskier (I already made a post about) and of course Veskier!

- Veskier, being a ship of a younger pretty man and an older witcher warrior, has mostly gotten attention from the extremely kinky side of the fandom. Daddy kink, BDSM, dom/sub, breeding kink and other kinks galore. Even more often, this ship is mixed with others in a M/M/M/M/M setting, you know, I know you know, we all have seen the witchersexual!Jaskier tag on AO3. And while I do enjoy a little well written smut from time to time, most of the Veskier fanfics out there do not quite suit my taste.

- Vesemir and our beloved, adorable, brilliant walking sunshine trouble maker of a bard, did not interact in season 2 at all, I doubt that they will ever, with both being side characters. HOWEVER, that makes this pairing FREE REAL ESTATE! Who is to say what is likely and what is not? Who is to say they won't work? Who is to say that they couldn't have gotten together at some point off screen?

- It makes me a little sad that people don't realize just how much potential there is with Veskier! Much like Yennskier, the theoretical romantic relationship between these two, at least going off of Netflix canon alone, would be surprisingly healthy and wholesome.

- Every time I imagine them together, I headcanon Jaskier as not entirely human. Either part-fae or of elder blood.

- Veskier is a perfect ship for emotional healing, for fluff, for the kinky side, for the crack, for happiness!

- FLUFF × CRACK × SMUT × HURT/COMFORT

Let me set the scene

- After Voleth Mier, Jaskier realizes that he somehow ended up in a situation where he lost his precious lute, became a wanted man in Oxenfurt (a city he considered his home), got tortured for information about his ex-bff, then said ex-bff came to bail him out of jail because he needed him, not for the sake of making amends, essentially using Jaskier to find Yennefer and then sending him off with Ciri as a glorified nanny. And here he is, at the top of another mountain, in Kaer Morhen, where Geralt is too busy with Ciri to talk while the other witchers are rude to him. He is penniless, injured, has nothing but the bloodied clothes on his back and is suffering from nightmares about Rience.

- Vesemir is a tired old man who has witnessed too much bloodshed in his lifetime. His body may be enhanced and therefore he doesn't feel the physical effects of aging (if at all) as much as he does the mental. All witchers were human at some point, he can actually feel the psychological toll of living much longer than humans are designed to. Still, he has to be strong as the master of the keep, to set an example and to be a dependable source of wisdom and guidance for his pups. He will never admit it out loud, but the things he has to deal with after Voleth Mier overwhelm him. There's Geralt's whole elder blood child surprise thing, constant repairs of a crumbling fortress, honoring and mourning the fallen witchers, processing the fact that new mutated mosters are appearing and they don't have the mutagens to create more of their kind to protect the continent and survive. There is nothing he can do about it except deal with the anxiety of knowing these stone cold facts.

- In this whole mess, two broken souls might just be what the other needs. Where Vesemir could do with a break, with a little joy, Jaskier is more than enough to help with that. And where Jaskier could do with being taken care of after everything he's been through, after everything he lost, Vesemir is a perfect candidate for that job. Their relationship would be yin and yang, balance and harmony personified.

- Honestly, please tell me that you see it too! They have a lot in common, Jaskier is a professor, mastered the seven liberal arts, grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, music, astronomy and according to canon, he passed every exam with flying colors!

- Vesemir is wise, he has lived for centuries, he has witnessed history, he was trained as an alchemist, has extensive knowledge about many things. He is a bottomless pit of knowledge.

- They could talk for hours together and never run out of topics to discuss.

- And the sex? OH BROTHER! Jaskier fucked his way across the continent countless times, while Vesemir is so ancient there is no way that he hadn't bedded a considerable amount of people. Yeah, the sex would be mind blowing I should think.

- Jaskier is a hopeless romantic and Vesemir is a traditional gentleman (when he is wooing the damsels, according to game!canon Lambert.) They would probably be very fluffy and affectionate with eachother. Verbose compliments, music, cuddling, kissing.

- LMAO, imagine everyone else's reaction!!!

- Geralt would be mortified seeing his friend making out with his father figure on the kitchen table 🤣🤣🤣

- The other witchers would probably feel uneasy, shocked at first too, until they get used to it. HAHA ONCE THEY DO LAMBERT IS GONNA FUCKING MILK IT

"Morning papa Vesemir, papa Jaskier"

- KAER MORONS!!!

- Also, the theoretical adventures a witty traveling part fae bard and a silverfox witcher could have, make me beyond giddy!

46 notes · View notes

flowercrown-bard · 2 years

Note

I love the marriage AU so much <3 Mutual pining and dumbassery, it's the best! May I ask did you make any plans/ideas what exactly everyone "gets" out of the marriage? Like the political boons each side gets from it? If it works out well for the witchers, then maybe a few years down the line Jaskier might set up Kaer Morhen real nice and have diplomats come in and set up marriage arrangements for Eskel and Lambert as well. Or just generally treaties with other countries :3

Thank you so much dear <3 that seriously means a lot to me! I am happy to confess that I have not planned a single thing. I only wanted to write a very specific scene and the arranged marriage was just a convenient setting. I do have thoughts about a reason for why they have married but it's pretty much exactly what @imjusthereforthecatpictures wrote in their incredible Eskel/Jaskier arranged marriage au "The Best of It" and they put it much better than I ever could (this is me unsubtly telling everyone to read that fic. It's already one of my new favourites) you know, i really wanted to take a break from writing for at least a week or two, but I have zero impulse control, so here's a little prequel Part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6

Not a choice

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Lambert gaped at Vesemir.

He tried to catch Eskel’s eye, but his brother was stubbornly looking at the honeycake in front of him. Of course, Vesemir had made them the stupidly delicious cake for a reason. He had probably thought it would be easier to convince them to agree to this fucking scheme that would ruin their lives.

Lambert shoved Geralt, who was sitting next to him, making him look up.

“He’s kidding,” he repeated, a hint of hysterics in his voice. “The old man found his humour in his old age.”

“The old man is right here,” Vesemir’s said sternly, but almost instantly, his expression morphed into tiredness. He ran a hand down his face and sighed. “And I’m not kidding. I’m sorry.” Lambert blanched. He could count the times his old teacher had apologised for anything on one hand. When Voltaire hadn’t made it through the trials. When Eskel had returned from the Path with scars so severe that it had taken him two months to look at his brothers without turning his scarred side away. When he had sent Geralt through the second rounds of trials, as Geralt had admitted to him once. And now. Now, as he was telling him that he was bartering one of them away, just so they could have guaranteed work and protection from some poncy noble who had never cared about them anyway.

He waited for Vesemir to go back on his word, tell them that it wasn’t necessary after all, that they would find a different way to deal with the rising violence against their kind, but Vesemir only averted his eyes.

Lambert’s stomach churned. If Vesemir was this set on the marriage agreement, then things must be worse than he had thought. His mind went to Coen, who had returned from the Path with scars that hadn’t come from a hunt but from a town turning against him. He thought about the horse he’d had to abandon because the stablemaster had fucking lied and claimed that Lambert was trying to steal it, which had ended with pitchforks and torches being grabbed to run him off.

He thought about Aiden, who was out on the Path right now, always recklessly claiming that he wouldn’t get hurt. Fuck, but what if he did? What if one day, Aiden didn’t return to him, because some fucking humans took him away from Lambert? And what would Lambert do, if he knew that could be averted, if only he agreed to this insane plan.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see his brothers tense and exchange looks. They must have had similar thoughts as him. They all had friends and brothers out there.

If they wanted to keep their loved ones safe, then they had no choice.

“Which one of us is it then?” Eskel asked, though all of them knew the answer already.

It couldn’t be one of the Vipers, Griffins or Cats. As much as they belonged to Kaer Morhen as any Wolf, it was the Wolves themselves, who were the face of the alliance. Not least because Geralt, the famed White Wolf, made for an impressive figure head. Humans loved these sorts of symbols, even if Geralt himself was neither leader nor ever attempted to become such a thing. Not that any of the witchers would have listened to them. If anything, they had made fun of Geralt mercilessly, when they had first heard that people thought him in any way important in some made-up hierarchy. Eskel, with his scars and broad shoulders would scare any possible spouse off, despite being the gentlest of them all. No human would give him a chance for long enough to get to actually know them. And after having witnessed how much Eskel had hidden himself away even from his closest family, neither of them was willing to subject Eskel to going through that again. Lambert, well. No one in their right mind would think of offering Lambert up for marriage. Even if he didn’t have a tendency to be a right bastard - one of his best qualities, if you asked him - he would fight anyone tooth and nail who tried to separate him and Aiden. Besides, in a way, them being together was what had convinced the other Wolves to give the Cats a chance. Without them, the Schools would have never banded together and become what they were now: A unity of Witchers that worked together and protected each other - another thing that had seemed preposterous when Lambert had been a boy, but that had become a necessity, when rumours of another pogrom had made their way to the Keep.

Another sigh from Vesemir shook Lambert out of his musings.

“I’m sorry,” Vesemir repeated again. His gaze found Geralt, who returned the look unflinching, though Lambert could see his hands clenched into fists. “They asked for you.”

Geralt closed his eyes, taking a handful of steadying breaths. When spoke, for the first time since Vesemir had gathered the three of them together to discuss this, there was a light tremor in his voice, “Who is it? Who’s the one who’ll have to marry me?”

Vesemir reached into the pockets at the inside of his jacket and produced a letter. He handed it to Lambert, who passed it on to Geralt.

When Geralt unfolded it, the first thing that caught Lambert’s eye was the sketch of a man with fair features and a shy grin. He was pretty, Lambert supposed, if one liked dainty men who looked like they had never even considered picking up a sword.

He was about to make a teasing remark, when he noticed the way Geralt was looking at the picture. There was a crease between his brows, but to Lambert’s surprise, it wasn’t one of disapproval but with worry. Lambert’s mind ran through what Geralt had said before. ‘Who’s the one who’ll have to marry me?’ From the looks of it, Geralt was quickly coming to the realisation that maybe being married wasn’t the worst fate imaginable. Not for him at least. Apparently, Geralt was someone who liked dainty men.

Lambert just hoped that Geralt’s betrothed wasn’t someone who had fallen for the bullshit people liked to spread about witchers. Lambert scanned the letter for more information about the lordling, who would invade their home, but all he found was his name. Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and next to that, a line written in a different hand - maybe the Viscount himself had added the explanation, that he preferred his betrothed to call him by a different name:

Jaskier

---

tag list (please tell me if you would like to be added or removed from this): @spookylostboy @justablobfish @karolincki @flosimo @rebrandedbard @hollowxo @silvertonguelover @inanoldhousewrites @yaskefer @emotional-support-fandom @fandoms-princess @kore888 @fen-thenobling @geraskier-thots @strippiluolamies @sharinalein @slumberingcorpse @elle-ja-bell @bellathecatastrophe @hockles @ban-aard

#alright that's enough procrastination for today #thank you <3 #arranged marriage au #geraskier #lambert #eskel #vesemir #geralt #witcher #the witcher #my writing #fic #fanfic #fic rec #seriously that Jaskel fic has stolen my heart #and it explains the reasons for the marriage so much better than me #this thing i just wrote has nothing original to it #there's no way i could come up with anything that makes more sense than what I #imjusthereforthecatpictures wrote

94 notes · View notes

slumberingcorpse · 9 months

Text

Music and Gunpowder

Geralt/Jaskier Fanfic Western AU

Part 1 “Riding Towards Destiny”

It happened so quickly. One minute they were having dinner like every night and the next they were being surrounded by the Pinkertons.

Geralt cursed under his breathe as his grip tightens around Roach’s reins keeping Ciri close to his chest as possible.

They almost got Ciri. If it wasn’t for Eskel—Christ…he didn’t even want to imagine it…

“How the hell did they find us!? Surround us no less!” Cöen asks breaking the tense silence surrounding the gang as their horse’s hooves thunder against the dirt road.

They were so focused in escaping with their lives they must’ve forgotten that we had the ability to do so.

“I don’t know! Do you have any clue on how this could happen? Geralt!?” Lambert accuses with his fiery eyes shooting daggers at the white haired outlaw.

Geralt knew he just wanted to get a raise out of me, like always. There’s nothing more that he wanted to do other than have another shouting match with him, but I knew it was a waste of time, Ciri however, didn’t.

“Yennefer would never do such a thing! You’re just full of shit!” Ciri shouts angry and disgusted by the even suggestion of such a thing.

Lambert scoffs, “I don’t know who’s more stupid! You or your hopeless father! Who else could’ve known!? Who else would’ve want us dead!? Especially after the incident with Marigold!”

“Triss? W-what are you talking about? What incident with Marigold?” Ciri asks with her blue eyes looking up at her father expectingly.

It was Geralt’s turn to glare over at his brother before sighing and looking back over at the young girl sitting in front of him. His mouth went dry.

He hoped to never tell her. The last thing he wanted is to trouble her even more, especially when it has to do with the stupid decision he made.

He can feel my lips tremble as he opens his mouth to explain but either by fortune or misfortune a loud thud catches all our attention.

Geralt whips his head back towards the noise only for his eyes to widen in horror seeing Eskel laying limply on the ground next to his horse.

“Shit! Eskel!” He hears myself say as he leaps off his saddle. Lambert and Cöen were close behind as they rush to Eskel’s side to help him sit down.

Thankfully, Eskel was still breathing, be it, harshly but it was better than nothing. Though with the bullet wound in his stomach bleeding like crazy, he might not be breathing for long.

“Eskel? Eskel? You hear me?” Geralt asks struggling to keep his voice from sounding panicked as the stench of blood fills his nostrils.

“W-wolf…I’m…I’m o-okay…j-just got dizzy…” Eskel slurs out hiding his pain from his younger brothers.

“Like hell you are! Blood loss is different from dizziness, you dumbass! Why didn’t you tell us!?” Lambert shouts not bothering to hide his fear and worry from anyone.

And yet, Eskel forced himself to smile up at his brothers, “I…I’ll be okay…I..I h-had worse…y-you know that.”

“Damn it! Where’s Vesemir and Aiden!?” Cöen curses looking around for their leader and fellow brother.

“I’m sure they’re fine. Cöen, give me some gunpowder! Lambert, start a damn fire!” Geralt orders.

“What are you planning to do?” Lambert asks.

“Damn it, Lambert! Just do what I say for once in your life!” Geralt snaps causing the younger man to finally nod and run to do as told.

While the other two are gone, Geralt quickly tears off a peace of cloth and presses it against Eskel’s stomach.

Eskel hisses in pain as he weakly smiles, “Hey, hey I’m o-okay…don’t cry…I’ll be o-okay…”

Geralt glances at him confused before following Eskel’s glaze and remembering about the young girl in his care.

Frozen in place was Ciri, starring at the blood on Geralt’s hands as tears run down her pale cheeks.

Geralt’s heart sank as he forces himself to turn away from her, “It’ll be alright. Just keep an eye out alright?”

Ciri doesn’t answer but Geralt can hear her turn around and walk away.

“G-Geralt…g-go to her…”

“Not now, you idiot, you’ll bleed out.” Geralt sighs focusing on the wound.

Soon enough, Cöen and Lambert rush back with what they need. Once the fire was started he takes out his knife and holds it over the flame.

“Alright, you two hold him down.” Geralt orders moving Eskel’s bloodied shirt out of the way. Unlike before, there was no back talk, Lambert and Cöen held Eskel down as Geralt pours the gunpowder into the wound before pressing the hot blade against his skin.

Eskel’s howls in pain as he thrashes around. Cöen turns away as Eskel claws against his arm. Lambert’s eyes fill with tears before squeezing his eyes shut to stop them from spilling. All while, Ciri’s soft sobs are heard in the background.

Geralt’s heart ached. Below him was Eskel. His best friend, his brother screaming and begging him to stop. Behind him was Ciri, his daughter sobbing in fear needing him by her side.

Soon enough, the screams stopped leaving nothing but the sound of crickets and crackling firewood to fill the void. Eskel, laid limp but breathing. He was alive.

Numbly, Geralt wraps Eskel’s stomach with the cleanest cloth he hand as the sound of hooves come closer. All of boy’s immediately reach for their revolvers but relax once seeing Vesemir’s and Aiden’s horses ride up.

“Thank god! Are you boys alright?” Vesemir asks getting off his horse.

“Eskel was shot, I…I stop the bleeding but…it’ll take a while for him to get back on his feet.” Geralt reports calmly.

Vesemir’s gaze softens as he walks over and places a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, “You did good, son. Go get yourself cleaned up. We’ll camp here for the night. We’re gonna be alright.”

Geralt nods before walking towards the small river next to the camp. With trembling hands he bends down to wash the blood off his palms and fingers before splashing his face with the ice cold water.

“I-is he…” Ciri asks with a trembling voice.

Geralt hesitates but finally turns over to her, “No, he’s alive. He’ll be alright.” He says trying to comfort her but instead Ciri just nods and looks down with tears running down her pale cheeks.

Geralt frowns and reaches over to hold her hands, “He’ll be alright. I…I promise. Trust me, he’s survived much worse. I mean who else can survive having dynamite blowing up next to him.”

Ciri shakes her head and cries, “I-it’s all my fault!”

Geralt’s heart drops as he cups her tear stained cheeks, “No, no, none of this is your fault. None of it.”

“B-but the Pinkertons, they want me! If it wasn’t my for me, no one would’ve gotten hurt!”

“Ciri. Cirilla, listen to me. None of this is your fault and I will never let them get a hold of you. No matter what I’ll protect you. I promised I would, remember?”

Ciri sniffles and nods as she wraps her her arms around Geralt. Geralt holds her close and tenderly rubs her small back, “Come on, let’s get to bed alright? I’m sure in a few days Eskel will be back up on his feet and you two will be out hunting together in no time.”

“G-Geralt…can I…sleep with you tonight?” Ciri softly asks.

Geralt smiles softly before kissing the top of her head, “Yeah, I can do that. Come on, princess.” He coos before leading her to their bedroll. Making sure they both were comfortable and warm, Geralt holds Ciri close.

It might’ve been the knowledge that Ciri was safe in his arms or the pure exhaustion after the turbulent day, either way, his eyes fail to stay open.

His peaceful sleep doesn’t last long however, as Cöen starts to nudge his shoulder, “Geralt. Wake up.”

Geralt groans and glances down to check that Ciri’s still sleeping before turning up towards Cöen, “What is it?” He whispers as he carefully sits up.

“It’s Eskel,” Cöen sighs causing Geralt’s stomach to drop and turn away, “I-is he?”

“No, not yet…he has a fever. A bad one. I’m pretty sure he has an infection. Vesemir is out trying to look for some herbs to help but…he needs medicine.” Cöen explains glancing over at Eskel in his bedroll.

Geralt sighs and runs his hand down his face, “Alright, I’ll go get some. I’m pretty sure I saw a town nearby.”

Cöen nods before glancing down at sleeping Ciri, “How is she taking it?”

“As well as anyone can…I guess…” Geralt mutters carefully getting up to not wake her.

“You guess?” Cöen questions.

“I…I don’t know…she thinks it’s her fault. She’s scared and…and I don’t know what to do…”

Cöen smiles sympathetically as he pats Geralt’s shoulder, “You’re doing your best. That’s the best you can do. I’m sure no matter what she’ll understand. Besides, you aren’t alone. Remember that alright?”

Geralt smiles softly and nods, “Keep an eye on her? I’ll be back soon enough.”

Cöen nods and sits on the ground next to Ciri, “She’ll be fine.”

Geralt let’s out another sigh as he puts on his hat and boots, “Make sure she eats all of her breakfast. Even the mushrooms.” He says sternly.

Cöen chuckles, “I’ll make sure she eats every one.”

Reassured, Geralt relaxes and heads over to Roach.

“Surprise to see you up so early.” A voice asks from behind causing Geralt to tense up and turn only to be faced with no other than Aiden.

“Aiden. How’s Lambert?”

Aiden lets out a worried sigh, “Freaked out to say the least. He’s worried for Eskel. For Ciri. They almost got her back there.”

“I know but we’ll work on it. I’m gonna get some medicine for Eskel and once healthy enough to move we’ll leave to someplace safe.”

“Safe? This isn’t some gang we are talking about, Geralt. This is the Pinkertons. The government who swarms all over the place. The real question is how long until they kill us all.” Aiden argues.

Geralt turns away as he puts his saddle on Roach’s back, “We’ll figure something out…” is all he manages to say before riding off.

The sun was only beginning to raise in the distance and yet only the crows seem to be singing their song.

Geralt is finally alone and for a moment he can let his emotions roam free, “Fuck! What am I doing!? Aiden is right! Last night they almost got us! They almost got Ciri! What do they even want with her!? She’s just a kid! A terrified lost kid! How am I supposed to…how am I supposed to protect her?”

Roach neighs in response causing Geralt to continue, “Yeah, I know, I know but I wasn’t made for this. How am I supposed to raise her? All my life all I learned to do is shoot, steal, and scam. It’s no way to raise a Ciri. She deserves…deserves more! To live in high society like her mother and grandmother! Worrying about dresses and shoes instead of catching a bullet through the skull. Why did her grandmother entrust her to me?”

Roach neighs and nudges her head back towards her master making Geralt relax as pat her mane, “I don’t regret taking her in. It’s not that. I just want her safe…” He sighs and looks up at the gloomy sky, “Maybe Yennefer was right that’s all. Maybe Ciri should’ve stayed with her…” he mutters only for his ears to pick up a scream near by.

“Help! Help me! Someone please help me!”

Perhaps it was instinct, maybe it was destiny, either way, Geralt immediately turns Roach around and rushes towards the cry for help.

As he got closer, growls, barks, and howls can be heard as a man clings onto a tree branch. He was younger than Geralt, with soft dirty brown hair, filthy and yet expensive looking clothes, and a fancy looking guitar slung over his back. Must’ve been gotten lost.

Geralt glances up at the sobbing man before glancing back down at the pack of wolves clawing at the tree trunk trying to take a bit out of the terrified man who’s starting to lose his grip.

Geralt takes out his revolver and shoots a few rounds at the sky causing the pack to scatter about and for the man to finally fall against the grass.

“You alright there?” Geralt asks walking over only for the man to pounce him into a tight hug.

“You saved me! I t-thought it was all over! But you saved me! My hero!” The man sobs looking up at Geralt with his big watery blue eyes and his snot, tear covered face.

Geralt couldn’t help but tense up. The only person who hugs him is Ciri and last time he checked, this man was not Ciri. Without hesitation, he pulls away and clears his throat, “Glad you’re alright then…see you around then.” He says walking back to Roach.

“What!? You can’t leave me here!” The man cries out rushing behind him.

“And why is that?” Geralt questions looking back at him with an amused look.

“Because what if the wolves come back! I’ll die out here!” The man cries.

Geralt shrugs and saddles up, “Better get out of forest as fast as you can then, city boy.”

The man runs in front of Roach and looks up at Geralt with his big blue eyes, “Don’t leave me here to die…please?”

Geralt has seen those eyes before. Ciri always uses them to get what she wants and just like when she does it, he couldn’t say no. He sighs and grumbles, “Fine.”

The man’s eyes light up, “So you’ll give me a ride to Toussaint?”

“What!? No!”

“Why not!?”

“I don’t even know you!”

“Me? Oh, Umm I’m…Jaskier!”

Geralt looks down at the younger man with a glare. He wasn’t sure either to laugh or punch him, “Like hell you are! You made that damn name up!”

Jaskier let’s out a fake gasp, “Me!? Lie!? I would never!”

Geralt sighs and runs his hand down his face, “Just get on the damn horse before I leave you here.”

Jaskier just smiles and hops on behind him.

Geralt was starting to regret this.

#witcher #the witcher fandom #the witcher fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher eskel #witcher Cöen #witcher lambert #witcher vesemir #aiden witcher #witcher ciri #ciri #witcher yennefer #western au

7 notes · View notes

fodlaneverafter · 2 months

Text

FEA character mini-analyses: the house lords, rhea, and byleth

Here is part 3 of explaining why I cast characters the way I did in FEA (my ongoing 3H/EAH crossover fic)! Part 1, about the Black Eagles, is linked here, Part 2 on the Blue Lions is here, and Part 3 on the Golden Deer is here.

Now without further ado... let us begin!

Edelgard as Raven Queen: the biggest hurdle for writing El as Raven was--and honestly still is--the huge personality difference. While El is kind, she's not exactly... as nice? I also imagine her inner monologue to be a lot less insecure than Raven's, so I had to take some liberties on that front. Other than that, though, I can't think of any reason why Edelgard wouldn't be the leader of the Rebels--she's here to contest the system and make a real change. To echo her twin Crests, I tweaked Raven's destiny-bound magic so that El just has weaker magic than she should, and thus relies on spellcraft.

Dimitri as Apple White: I don't think Dimitri would actually be as in love with his story as Apple apparently is, but they share their obsession with duty and what I would call an intense fear of the unknown. Dimitri disagrees with El for exactly the same reasons as Apple disagrees with Raven--because of the disastrous consequences of division and unrest. Apple isn't hiding any demons in her head, though, so again we have some liberties at play. I thought having super-strength (echoing the Blaiddyd Crest) would be an interesting secret for Dimi to keep.

Claude as Madeline Hatter: Claude is the son of Alice here, but Alistair from the original show never did anything interesting and no one else deserves Maddie's iconic role. I couldn't make the Wonderland situation perfectly parallel to Almyrah, but I do want a spotlight on Claude's identity being split between Fódlan and Wonderland. Even though there are other Wonderlandians, he's the only one who is from both worlds--who has to be both logical and mad, but is never quite enough of each. Just, you know, the typical TCK experience. Oh, and talking to the Narrators is of huge importance too!

Yuri as Ramona Badwolf: I took some biiig liberties with this one. Yuri is not related to Bernadetta, but he has the Badwolf name because Mr. Badwolf needed to hide his marriage to Red while still preserving the story's future somehow. I never liked the idea of him having another child, so I thought it'd be cool to mess up some succession laws and have Yuri--the only house lord in the game who didn't come from a wealthy background--"fight" for his destiny by beating all the other Wolfs to it.

Rhea as Milton Grimm: well this is a no-brainer! I'm still smoothing out the wrinkles in how her backstory has to do with Sothis, but just like Milton, Rhea's fear of losing control causes her to rewrite history to fit her narrative. This is gonna be key in FEA.

Byleth as... like... Just Byleth: so... yeah, Byleth doesn't get an important role in this AU, mostly because I couldn't think of a good reason they'd be involved. Honestly it would be hard for me to write them in an interesting way so I'm fine with that.

other characters: Seteth mostly suffers at the hands of chaos and Flayn enjoys it. Jeralt is mentioned exclusively by Leonie. Sothis does not appear as a living character but uh... let's not spoil that. Rodrigue appears as often as I can allow because he's King Charming (!!), who teaches a class at EAH. For the most part, I don't include the 3H students' original parents. Dimitri's father is still named Lambert but his mother is the EAH version of Snow White; likewise for Edelgard. As for the Ashen Wolves--Constance is the daughter of the Marsh King (look it up; I think you'll agree with me!), I made Hapi the daughter of the Sea Witch just because, and Balthus... there's no good reason for him to be around, I'm afraid :(

And that, my folksies, is that!

#fire emblem three houses #ever after high #fe3h house lords #fe3h au #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #yuri leclerc #archbishop rhea #byleth eisner #rodrigue achille fraldarius #ashen wolves #snow white #evil queen #headmaster grimm

5 notes · View notes

koroart · 2 years

Text

When your absolute jock of a dad comes to cheer you and your jock classmates on at the Battle of Eagle and Lion 😤💪🏼✨

#part of my Lambert Lives AU with a friend heh heh ✨#yes all ur getting from me now is dad content #idk what to tell you #:: my art #fe3h #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #lambert egitte blaiddyd

591 notes · View notes

faery-the-diamond · 1 year

Note

Lambert, I wonder what was your life like before you were involved in all this ideological-religious-family conflict. What I want to know is:

> How exactly your community worked?

> What was your position in it? I'm asking because by the moment you got the Red Crown from The-One-Cutie-Who-Waits you were already quite a good fighter, and what's more surprising, a good leader, as Ratau mentioned.

> Have you all had to hide from the bishops and their followers?

> Do you remember your family, friends?

> How old were you when you... Er... Died for the first time? (A sub question here, for how long mortals in mgw au usually live? About 70-90 years like people? How much longer they live with that skull necklace?)

Also I'd like to say that I feel so sorrowfully to you and your kind. No soul deserves to experience what you've all been through. :<

Lambert: It's really similar to how I run the cult just... Without the whole "death" themes, resurrections, brainwashing, violence... You get it. Also it wasn't a cult, more like a village with it's own beliefs.

Lambert: My people were against the Old faith in almost every aspect of it throughout our entire history. So we had our own god — The Lady of Mercy. We only saw her in the form of statues.

Lambert: Instead of a "divine being", the village was lead by a specific family with one of it's members being the leader. They were responsible for protecting the village as well as preaching the word about The Lady of Mercy to it's people. When the current leader dies, their oldest child becomes the next one.

Lambert: I... Was a part of this family. My father was the leader and I should've been the next one. So, obviously, I was trained accordingly.

Lambert: Yes, we were always hiding from them. Especially during last hundreds of years when they began to hunt us down.

Lambert: I do remember my family and friends. I... I wish there would've been a way for them to avoid their fait... But! I will fix everything! I just... Need more time.

Lambert: Hm... My age was somewhere around 25..? I don't remember the exact number. I just know it was somewhere between 20-30.

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

If we talking about mortals in the Old faith, then they live until 60 at the very best. Because, you know, sacrifices, the "I'm willing to die for my bishop" mentality, etc.

The sheeps however? They don't have all of... That. So they can pretty much reach 90 years in the best case scenario.

The necklace let's the mortal to live more or less 200 years

#cult of the lamb #mercy gone wrong

40 notes · View notes

solcorvidae · 5 months

Text

Modern Witcher AU: My Headcanons (part 4)

Jaskier’s full legal name is Julian Alfred Pankratz. His parents have called him Jaskier since he was a baby and it stuck. He is their little buttercup to this day. Jaskier will not respond to ‘Julian’ unless it is painfully obvious it’s him who’s being spoken to. Jaskier has never truly been ‘Julian’ but for whatever reason his parents never got his name legally changed. He has lived his whole life as Jaskier despite his paperwork, ID, passport, and medications all having PANKRATZ, Julian Alfred written on them. He will probably never do it himself either, leaving him stuck with a legal name he has never gone by.

Jaskier sizes down his base layer clothes to be slim-fitting and Geralt sizes up. They very easy could share most clothes (both ways) with no issue if they both wore clothes that actually fit how they are supposed to. However, since they don't, they run the risk of having Jaskier's T-shirts becoming stretched out.

Jaskier sticks to stealing Geralt's clothes. Geralt lets him.

Cats loathe Aiden. (Yes, he will be appearing at some point.)

Eskel’s voice carries through walls even when he is speaking quietly. It can be felt more than heard because it emanates so strongly from his chest.

Jaskier can do a scarily accurate impression of Geralt and can easily fool people over the CB radio.

Jaskier was a loud kid. Like the type of kid that will go up to a stranger, basically yell “DO YOU LIKE MY SHOES?” and then start aggressively stomping around in his light-up sketchers.

Jaskier’s family was initially unsure of Geralt when they first met. It only took twenty minutes for his mom and dad to decide they adored him. They think that he is the most polite young man and a pleasure to be around. They spend hours talking (having a friendly and enthusiastic interrogation) with him, asking Geralt a billion questions about himself and his relationship with their son… how they met, what they’ve been up to, where Geralt is from, etc. Geralt is overwhelmed but feels welcomed by the end of the night, no longer feeling the judgement boring into the back of his skull like he did when he’d first arrived.

Jaskier’s mom has plenty of embarrassing scrapbook photos of him throughout his life. Geralt half-jokingly asks to see them and she shows him every single one. Jaskier groans and hides behind his hands the whole time but finds the scene in front of him endearing… so he tolerates it.

Eskel makes tea for people. People he loves, people he’s comforting, his friends, his family, his lover, strangers, people who he’s just meeting for the first time… there’s tea for every occasion.

While Geralt’s creative outlet is painting, Eskel crochets. He makes his friends and family warm clothes to bundle up in during the winter months. He sews a custom made tag into each of his pieces. The tag reads: ‘Handmade with Love by Eskel Bellegarde’

Vesemir has three giant boxes of all the boys’ school work, projects, and art work. He vows to never get rid of any of it.

Vesemir drinks his morning coffee from a mug that is practically illegible at this point but had once upon a time said “World’s Best Dad!” across the front.

Geralt knows how to ride a motorcycle... he just doesn’t have one anymore. He bought a used one for a wicked deal in highschool but sold it for his old pickup when he realized how impractical it was only a few years later. He will probably let his license expire because he can’t be arsed to retake the test.

Geralt walks on his toes. His heels hardly ever touch the ground unless he is wearing supportive shoes. He walks near-silently when donning bare-feet or socks. However, he walks heel-to-toe when he wears his boots. He has custom insoles to prevent knee pain and the shoes really do help his aches and pains... but he can be heard for miles--especially when wearing his favourite cowboy boots. Think: a set of heels on an office building floor.

Lambert gets sympathy pains and feels ill when his loved ones are in pain or sick. This, along with the guilt he feels causes him to isolate and distance himself from them when he is not needed/wanted in the room. He is still very present and loving when he is around (even more than he usually is) but he feels tremendous guilt that leads him to spend far more time in his room/at a friends house than usual.

[Modern AU Headcanon Masterpost]

#hypothermic ao3 #the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher modern au #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #eskel #lambert #eskel witcher #lambert witcher #aiden witcher #kaer morons #ao3 #archive of our own #sol scribbles

46 notes · View notes

thethumpergod · 7 months

Text

Getting to know you! (Lambert X Aiden Modern AU)

It was three days later.

The swelling on his nose eased up quickly, but it still stung like a bitch. He was rooting around for some food when he noticed that a piece of paper next to the pile of documents for work remained on the kitchen table. Lambert couldn’t bring himself to write back or say hello. He wasn’t chickening out or anything. He didn’t know what to say. Plus, he had better things to do. He needed to find decorations for his apartment. He just enjoyed his alone time and still had countless things on his list to do… Yeah.

Lambert had nothing to be nervous about. He is just taking his time to come up with a seamless way to befriend his neighbor. It was sparing Aiden, so he didn’t have to suffer whatever dumb things fell out of his mouth. He embarrassed himself in front of the man; he wanted at least some of his respect back.

It's late in the afternoon, and the sun is casting shadows on the roads. The sky had an orange hue, leaving a shine on anything reflective. Lambert had an afternoon to enjoy by himself; Aiden could wait. He finished eating the takeout from two days ago and then went to find running shoes.

When he finally got out the door, he checked the hall for any sign of the man. The coast was clear. Lambert didn’t need any distractions while he went on his jog. He steps down the stairs and heads in the direction of the park.

Some people around the complex walked their dogs, chatted with others, or took out the trash. A few people waved at him, stopping for a second to look at his nose. Some gave him an annoyed look. Perhaps he wasn't as quiet as he should have been on his way home drunk.

"Neighbor!"

Lambert nearly busted his face on the sidewalk as he halted. He could see Aiden jogging up to meet with him. The man wore a sleeveless hoodie, which showed off way more arm than was needed. His pants were worse; they were a crime. The inky workout pants looked tight enough to be a second skin. "Tried to get into someone else’s house?" Aiden observed him, with an amused tone.

"No. Work mishap," Lambert said, snorting.

"Oh." Aiden hums. "Can I join you?"

Lambert decides to bite the bullet and nods. He might as well get used to the guy who lives across the hall from him.

"Are you new to town? I haven’t seen you before." Aiden says as he begins pacing beside him, just close enough to get a good look at his face. His neighbor was taller than him by maybe two or three inches but had a slimmer build.

"I’ve lived in the town before, but I’ve never hung around this part." Lambert finally spoke as the silence became too noticeable.

"I could show you around if you want. There are some great spots around town," Aiden suggested. "What do you like?"

"Normally I go to the pub down the road. I usually am out at night because of my job." Lambert looks over at Aiden to see his eyebrows scrunched in what looks like concern. Shit, the last time Aiden saw him, he was drunk as all hell. He doesn't want his fucking neighbor to think he has a problem. "But, uh, I guess I could try something else."

Aiden smiled softly and then said, "Hm. There is this café called The House of Cats, which I'm a fan of. It’s south of the apartments, going into downtown."

"Yeah, that sounds great," Lambert lied. He only ever went to those on dates or when Ciri dragged him into one. The coffee menus at those kinds of places were overly complicated and, frankly, overpriced. If pretending to like them saves him from embarrassing himself, then he’ll take it.

"They have a frappe I would kill for." The man chatters on, not noticing the other's awkwardness. Lambert praises every god he can think of for that. The man starts going on about the café, telling him his favorite things on the menu. Lambert is half listening to his rambling. "It's an excellent place to socialize. I'm friends with the owners as well." Aiden pauses for a moment, then looks at him. "I realize I don't know your name."

"I’m Lambert. Is the café sponsoring you or something?"

The man looks down at him with a raised brow, then laughs, "I do owe Dragonfly some money from a bet, but I'm not sponsored." Aiden gestured to him. "Oh, where are my manners? Tell me about yourself!"

"Shit. I, uh, have a niece and two brothers."

"Hm, I was raised with my little brother by my stepdad," he says with a wide smile. "I also have a lot of people I'm close with around town."

"I don't know too many people around here." Lambert looked ahead of himself, counting how many traffic lights he could find as they continued walking.

"The café has plenty of nice people; maybe you could make a friend or two," Aiden replied, nearly hopping on his feet.

"Wait. This a cult or some shit, isn’t it?"

"Ha. You sure like to swear."

Lambert doesn't check because he knows the guy still has a smirk on his face. He snickers at that. "I'm sorry. I didn't know I was in the presence of royalty. Should I bow or something?"

Aiden continued to look at him, the smugness somehow becoming more apparent. "You're normally prickly, aren't you? Don't worry, I'm not offended by your cursing; it's just something I noticed," he said, tossing him a playful wink.

Lambert's eyes drifted wordlessly to the taller man. He made around five different facial expressions before trying to settle back into forced nonchalance. He could feel the heat spreading across his face, for whatever reason. The other man walked beside him, seeming comfortable in the new silence.

Okay, so his neighbor is teasing him; there’s no reason to get bothered by that. He took another slow breath, reminding himself of his goal. He is trying to make a friend. He can do this. "Where did you learn to fight?"

"I got bullied a lot as a kid for being small, so my stepdad made me take kickboxing classes. I did that from middle school to college."

"That explains it."

"Yeah," he snorts.

"You have a good kick; I thought my back was going to break."

Aiden smiles and says, "I may go a little too hard on leg day."

"I know you can see it," Lambert said impulsively. Shit! Fuck, why did he say that!

The man giggles and then eyes the path. He could see the multicolored cement that served as the foundation of the playground ahead.

They were already at the park nearby; the jog had gone by faster than he thought. Turning on his feet, he paces back to the apartments, and Aiden tracks along.

"You got a solid hit in with that knee to my gut," Aiden says, watching the stores as they passed by.

"Yeah, thanks." Lambert puffed his chest out. Even when he was shitfaced, he could get Aiden down a little.

"You must work out a lot too," Aiden says, glancing over at him.

"Right, right. Thanks." He nearly choked at that.

There was a ringing sound, and Aiden fished in his hoodie pocket. He sighs and then answers his phone.

"Yes, I thought I sent it last night. Sigh—I'll check to see if there's another way to send that report."

"Work?" Lambert replied gruffly.

"Yeah, it was nice to jog with you, but my coworker would strangle me if I don't get my reports in," Aiden says as he speeds up ahead of him, waving as he runs. "I hope your nose heals! It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah, see you!"

Before he knew it, Aiden was gone.

Lambert shook his head. He's never had a neighbor invite him to a café before. He could handle this; Lambert can have a friendship with the guy across the hall. Why is he worried? He knows how to fucking make friends! He just needs to be nice...

Lambert made his way up the stairs, counting his steps. He's sure he burned more calories than necessary. His legs wanted to give out by now, turning into jelly from overuse. He hunts in his pocket, finding his keys, which thank fuck, are there. Opening the door, he saw a piece of paper pushed under it.

"I swear this better not be a complaint or some shit already!" he said to himself. He grunted, picking up the letter. It reads,

"Hey, it's me again! Thanks for the run and all. If you're down for the café or hanging out, here's my number. - Aiden"

Lambert nearly high-fives himself; he didn't fuck up that bad! He was a few steps closer to making a friend. Grabbing water from the barren fridge, he paces around. He needed to figure out when to text him. Should he wait a few days to appear relaxed? What time of day should he text? Does he like calls? Lambert groans and lets himself fall onto the couch.

He needs something to keep his mind off this stuff—maybe a hobby? Eskel recused animals, and Geralt had the weird shit he liked...

Rarely did he go out to do anything that wasn't repairing stuff, getting in trouble, working, or drinking. When it happened, it was usually stuff involving Ciri or helping his brothers with something stupid, like when he had to pick Eskel up after the dude woke up naked in the woods. There was a time when Ciri and he went to the park, trying to catch a duck. To his shock, the kid did it. She wanted to keep it, and Yen wanted to murder Lambert. Good times.

The apartment was quiet. There were still boxes that needed to be unpacked. In all honesty, the place was desolate. Lambert wasn't good at decorating, not like his brothers. He would ask Yen, but he would rather not hear her commentary. He didn't even know where to start. Maybe posters? Nah, that’s not it either.

It takes him an hour to unpack the rest of the boxes. It was mainly kitchen items and clothes for the winter. Again, Lambert had nothing to do.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone. Lambert grabs the paper and starts messaging Aiden.

It took a while before Lambert finally sent the message.

- Hey, it's Lambert.

#the witcher #art #artists on tumblr #aiden the witcher #lambert #aiden x lambert #modern au #fanfic #fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

kariniarts · 1 year

Note

Glad you are enjoying my ramblings! I thought of a couple of more things today.

The Blue Lions not only don't do brothels but have often cooperated with the authorities in sex trafficking cases against rival gangs. However, Rufus thought leaving the entire sex trade to others was leaving money on the table and started building up a branch of the gang to run underground brothels. This is where Cornelia comes in and she was helping Rufus "branch out". Lambert found out and tried to shut it down. So Rufus ended-up using Agathean resources to eliminate Lambert.

Dimitri had his dad longer in this verse. He's 17/18 when Rufus's coup happens, and he's "shot through the eye but escapes with Dedue's help. Dedue being an orphan Duscar refugees Lambert had earlier saved from human traffickers and pretty much raised with Dimitri like a second son.

While on the run the two them run into Byleth, who is seeking revenge against the Agatheans for the murder of her parents, who were part of the once great but now all but decimated Nabatheans. They team-up, get revenge and get the Blue Lions away from Agathean control. Dimitri becomes leader, Byleth joins him and they spend the rest of their lives staying one step ahead of their enemies and law enforcement! ^.^

10/10 ideas nonny!! Thank you so much for sharing your head canons on this Mob AU 💖💖 💖 hopefully I’ll be able to revisit it soon~

8 notes · View notes

bookgeekgrrl · 1 year

Text

My media this week (2-8 Apr 2023)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🥰 jsyd extras (not playing a part #2) (biblionerd07) - 105K of alt-POV/extra/post-epilogue scenes

😊 The Edification of Steve Harrington (ChronicRabbit) - 44K, steddie post-canon divergent everybody lives slow burn

😍 One of Many Great Fires (delgaserasca, author; , narrator) - 126K, spirk AU; Jim shows up on Vulcan for an arranged marriage with T'Pring to solidify a treaty & Spock ends up tutoring him on Vulcan culture. Excellently written, absolutely DELICIOUS slow burn

🥰👂‍ Cabin Pressure: Molokai (John Finnemore, author; Stephanie Cole/Roger Allam/Benedict Cumberbatch/John Finnemore, cast)

🥰👂‍ Cabin Pressure: The Complete Series 3 (Newcastle to St. Petersburg) (John Finnemore, author; Stephanie Cole/Roger Allam/Benedict Cumberbatch/John Finnemore, cast)

🥰 Put Down in Words (paintedrecs) - 203K, sterek college AU - very slow burn, angsty, lots of emotional depth, plus an adorable dog

💖💖 +109K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

The Adventure of the Opal Necklace (beautifulduckweed) - KJ Charles: multiple ships, 9K - rollicking KJC mashup crack featuring some cursed opals

A Sense of Identity (DaaroMoltor) - DCU: SuperBat, 21K - love love love a good identity porn fic

Deep Sea Diving (AidaRonan) - MCU: shrunkyclunks, 5K - reread, forever fave - never not in the mood for fat thirst trap Bucky & besotted Cap!Steve

🖋️🖋️ plus these articles/essays that were really good 🖋️🖋️

How an Alleged Con Man Tore Apart One of the Nineties’ Biggest Bands

Tracing the Affinities Between Susanna Clarke’s Piranesi and C.S Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Maine Cabin Masters - s7, e14-16

Moana

Ted Lasso - s3, e4 [x2]

Great Art Explained: A Sunday on La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat

Dirty Laundry - s2, e1-4

Hot Ones - Kieran Culkin Fires Sean While Eating Spicy Wings

Game Changer - s1, e4

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

It's Been a Minute - Fighting back against spams, scams and schemes

Richmond Til We Die - Maximilian Osinski • Zava on Ted Lasso

Welcome to Night Vale #225 - Renegotiations

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Museum of Clean

You Must Remember This - 1989: sex, lies and videotape: Rob Lowe and James Spader (Erotic 80s Part 12)

⭐ The Sporkful - Are You Eating Chipotle Bowls Wrong?

You're Dead To Me - Atlantis

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Arrows Across America

Shedunnit Book Club - The Golden Age Autopsy

Switched on Pop - The Shakira Conspiracy

Reformed Rakes - No Love Lost: Romance BookTok's Dubious Reputation

99% Invisible #531 - De Fiets Is Niets

Vibe Check - Go Outside and Touch Some Grass

Richmond Til We Die - Tackling Homophobia in Football (with Lou Englefield)

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Yellowstone Zone of Death

Ologies with Alie Ward - Chickenology Part 2 (HENS & ROOSTERS) with Tove Danovich

ICYMI Plus - Buying Concert Tickets Online is Still a Hellscape

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Lady Liberty’s Little Sister

Song Exploder - Yaeji "Passed Me By"

Our Opinions Are Correct - Silicon Valley vs. Science Fiction: "Difficult Geniuses"

Into It - Are We Into the 'Barbie' Trailer, Fading Taylor Swift Merch, and a New 'Moana'?

Endless Thread - The Lullaby

You're Dead To Me - The Jacobites

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Fun & Funky

Guitars & Good Times

She Bop: '80s Ladies

Classic Feel-Good Pop

my Greatest Showman playlist

Classic Disco Hits

Presenting Kelly Clarkson

Presenting Miranda Lambert

Elle King

3 notes · View notes