#ESKEL IS ALIVE

[ladycibia]

Heyyy, I kinda forgot it yesterday but I hope you had a nice birthday!! 💖

One month late BUT aaaaa thank you so much!!! ;___; 💖💖💖 you remembered! My birthday was ok, I felt a little bit lonely for some reasons, but I had a nice day! Once again, thank you very much!! ;v; May the Fourth be with you (even if it's almost...June...ahah...ah. Sorry)

[lassieposting]

Jaskier is fucking appalled by the animal-naming habits of every single witcher within three (3) days of arriving at Kaer Morhen

This is a man who named each individual mouse in his prison cell. And now he finds that it's not just Geralt, who keeps buying chestnut mares and naming them all Roach like some kind of imagination-deficient walking time loop.

It's Lambert, the absolute cretin, who always names his poor animal Horse, as though it needs a fucking reminder, because "it's a fucking horse, songbird, it doesn't need a fucking name".

It's Vesemir, who's spent at least Geralt's entire lifetime leaving his horses with whatever name they had when he bought them, even when it's entirely inappropriate for a witcher's mount. Geralt remembers learning to ride on Vesemir's big black gelding Samson, which is not terrible as horse names go, he supposes. But Samson was succeeded by Dame Bubbles III, who was named by her previous owner's eight-year-old daughter, and even Vesemir himself can't keep a straight face at the memory.

It's Coën, who's always named his horses after food, which seems terribly mean. Rump-Steak is actually very sweet, nipping habit aside.

And then Eskel comes home, right as Jaskier is comforting poor Rump-Steak ("Never mind, dear boy, my parents named me Julian and I turned out alright") and finally, here is a man with some sense. Lil Bleater is not the most creative of names, but Eskel picked it himself, and his horse has a suitably witchery intimidating name even if he's a sweet soft boy who gets bullied by Miss Roachie. Someone around here has a brain cell - thank heavens!

(This is a very wrong-footing introduction for Eskel. He's not used to having strange men drowning in Geralt's fluffiest fur-lined cloak stalk up to him before he's even got in the door, addressing him by name and demanding to know what he calls his horse. But he's delighted to be pronounced "the only one around here with some bloody sense", asks Geralt, "Is this your bard?" and promptly explodes laughing at the thought of Geralt getting henpecked every time he names a new Roach for twenty fucking years)

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 16

Jaskier gifts Geralt something at least once a month. A silly horse knick-knack that reminded him of Roach, some rock he found, a flower (that's the most frequent). New gloves, new boots, gear, a sword sharpener, really, at least once a year Geralt has something new that means the world to him. So he keeps them all in his room in Kaer Morhen. Which means that every winter his brothers start trying to squeeze out information about who gives him these presents. Year by year, Lambert and Eskel tackle him and demand to know who gives him PERSONALIZED HAIR-TIES, GERALT! PERSONALIZED HAIR-TIES! AND IS THAT A FUCKING THROW PILLOW WITH FLOWERS ON IT!?

One year, they finally, FINALLY, get out the information that it's the bard he travels with. But surely if he gives him this many gifts and has stayed this many years, he should be spending at least one winter in Kaer Morhen with them, right? Geralt gets all sheepish and snaps at them to leave it alone and to stop bringing up "Jask." Well! A brother's gotta do what a brother's gotta do. Thus commences Lambert and Eskel's race to see who can find Geralt's bard first, and invite him up for the winter so they can wingman their poor emotionally constipated brother

[justen1d]

Trying to figure out how to draw Eskel

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

BLOCKING s3 vol. 1 haters on sight i am. blocking you all ON FUCKING SIGHT!!! last season we had to deal with eskel being turned into a goddamn fucking tree and then wolf food and now with the MOST fun and MOST enjoyable and LEAST Actively Pissing On The Books season of twn since literally season one that came out before the FUCKING PANDEMIC you wanna HATE??? not having it NOT having it. we literally have the "jaskier being ciris fun uncle" content we craved post-s1 for three years and Geralt literally called him "jask" and you wanna be MEAN???? NOT on my feed no sir

[vulpinesaint]

since i am out of school and witcherposting often again i thought i would let the crowd know that i am updating my little (very large) kaer morhen fic again :) we're in the final few chapters i prommy... these emotionally damaged people are all learning to care about each other so deeply... love each other even... beautiful world...

[averagedettlaffenjoyer]

so its been literal weeks since i finished the main game. yen is chilling at corvo bianco, but the world always feels so empty without all the other npcs after finishing the game. well, just met lil bleater in kaer morhen. seeing him made my day but now im fully convinced that he somehow helped the wild hunt attack kaer morhen because eskel used him as a bait that one time, and was in exchange spared by the hunt. probably ate all the corpses too.

[wilczmin]

why do i have so many tags. shoutout to my past self for doing so much so that i don't have to now.

&    ‘    a wolf with bared jaws at his breast .    *    geralt . &    ‘    nie samo dobro czyniłem w życiu .    *    fc . &    ‘    you’re something more .    *    ciri . &    ‘    the scent of lilac and gooseberries .    *    yennefer . &    ‘    such double loyalty is difficult to manage .    *    triss . &    ‘    all of my horses are called roach .    *    roach . &    ‘    you want to delve too deeply .    *    nenneke . &    ‘    but green sparks lit up her eyes .    *    calanthe . &    ‘    the end justifies the means .    *    emhyr . &    ‘    everyone’s got a father .    *    vesemir . &    ‘    resembling the wolf like a brother .    *    eskel . &    ‘    you’re a real jackass … but i love you.    *    lambert . &    ‘    and he made use of every advantage .    *    coën . &    ‘    from whom an elegant melody emerged .    *    dandelion . &    ‘    the strange nilfgaardian who says he isn’t .    *    cahir . &    ‘    he was astonished at his mistake .    *    angoulême . &    ‘    it’s thanks to her we’re alive .    *    milva . &    ‘    quite remarkable even among vampires .    *    regis . &    ‘    rather help a monster than kill it .    *    dettlaff . &    ‘    ayd f’haell moen hirjeth taenverde .    *    iorweth . &    ‘    lucky i can always count on you .    *    roche . &    ‘    she fought harder than all the soldiers combined .    *    ves . &    ‘    witchers on the path should help each other .    *    letho . &    ‘    he is the most beautiful .    *    villentretenmerth . &    ‘    vagrant ? that a profession now ?    *    gaunter .

[hanzajesthanza]

… i realize this is just a middle-aged guy version of the “nerdy girl makeover” trope where there’s a girl who wears glasses and lumpy shapeless clothes… then at the end of the movie she has a makeover where she does her hair and makeup, wears a dress, takes off her glasses, and walks down the stairs, surprising all her friends and boyfriend with how pretty she ~actually is~

i think it would be really funny if regis had a kind of fucked-up haircut

“he could save everyone except himself” but like with regard to the barbery, and not the surgery. kind of like when chefs don’t cook very well for themselves. or when fashion designers wear sweatpants all day.

but moreover. i think the aesthetic effects of a bad haircut would help to dampen his natural lugosian allure and good looks. to reduce any potential suspicions

[inexplicifics]

Been waffling about this, but finally gave in. For the WIP snippet thing, can I ask for Cats Among Wolves #1 and #3, and more of Pirate Laiden - Aiden POV?

For Cats Among Wolves, here's a very unhappy Guxart:

There’s a yank at the rope holding the bag’s mouth closed around the prisoner’s throat; he snarls again, more weakly, as his air is briefly cut off, and then there’s the blade of a knife cold against his skin and the rope parts as easily as butter. The bag is pulled up to bare the prisoner’s mouth, and he gasps for breath for a long moment. He can just barely smell two newcomers past the fug of his own filth. One is a beta; the other an omega. He can’t get much more than that. “What School?” the first voice demands. The prisoner licks dry lips. “Cat,” he rasps. The response is a pair of snarls. “Fucking Cat alphas,” the second voice hisses. “Take his knot before we kill him.” The prisoner pants softly, wishing he could argue with that assessment of his School. He can’t, though. He lost that right longer ago than he likes to think about.

And a rather more cheerful Letho:

“Sure,” Gaetan says, and smirks. “Assuming you’re any good.” Letho snorts, lounging back against the wall. “Still alive, aren’t I? Gaetan snorts back, an inelegant sound. “Point, yeah.” He takes a long swallow of ale. “Right then, hit me: stupidest contract you ever got.” Letho grins. “Stupidest contract…huh. Well, there was the alderman who tried to hire me to kill the drowner in the mill pond.” Gaetan raises an eyebrow. “Seems pretty standard.” Letho shrugs. “Oh, sure, sure. Nice standard contract. Drowner’s not usually a literal log, though.” “A log?” Gaetan’s mouth drops open and then he starts to grin. “A log. They hired you to kill a fuckin’ log.” “Nice big one,” Letho says, enjoying the sparkle in the Cat’s eyes. “Kinda mossy. Couple sticky-out bits that sorta looked like drowner claws, if you squinted and it was dark and you were kinda drunk.”

And a much too smug Lambert from the pirate thing:

“Has anyone ever won all three bouts?” Aiden asks, half out of a desire to distract himself from the throbbing of his broken arm, half out of genuine curiosity. “Yeah - my older brother Geralt, he’s ridiculously good. Faster’n any other swordsman I ever met. It’s fucking annoying.” Lambert shrugs a little. “But I’m better’n he is with knives, and also I’ve dyed his hair bright green five times now and he still hasn’t figured out how I’m doing it.” Aiden snorts with laughter. “How are you doing it?” Lambert smirks. “I bribe his shieldbrother Eskel to swap out his hair oils.”

[blackberrywars]

♥️Lambert/Aiden Fic Reclist!♥️

For anybody and everybody interested in Lambert, Aiden, and/or their relationship! I've been obsessed with these two since the start of the pandemic, and they inspired me to start writing my own fic, so making a reclist has always been an idea in the back of my head. Plus, it's come to my attention that the tag can get crowded sometimes, so, Laiden fans, this one's for you.

Parameters: I've decided to divide my recs based on common story types that explore Laiden both in and out of canon. Other ships are allowed, but the focus is Lambert/Aiden. Additionally, I put a cap on 3 fics max per author. These are not arranged in any particular order beyond the categories.

——————————————————————————————

♥️Lambert's Revenge/Aiden's Death or Return♥️

(i know dead people, and you are not dead) by @brighteyedjill (Explicit/5,940/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Lambert finds Aiden after ten years of torture, maimed and broken. They retire and learn each other once again, mind, body, and soul.

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory by CamilleDuDemon (Mature/2,327/Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death)

Aiden dies on a beautiful sunny day, while Lambert waits for him in their usual meeting place. Witchers cannot love and witchers never die in their beds. If only neither of those were true.

No Grave by @blackberrywars (Mature/2293/No Archive Warnings Apply)

A shameless self-rec, because I'm very proud of this fic. To the tune of Hozier’s Work Song, Aiden crawls from her almost-grave, determined to see her baby wolf again.

Fair Trade by Anoke (Mature/40,373/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Karadin sells Aiden to a mage, and he becomes an experiment, trapped in his own head while searching for a way out. It's a series, and this is the part where shit gets ugly.

Very Dark Magic by @bomberqueen17 (Mature/23,683/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Aiden is once more getting tortured and mind-controlled by a mage, but luckily enough and via the power of psychic beams, Keira and Lambert find him. And Lambert's pissed.

Roses Fall but the Thorns Remain by @t4tlambert (Teen/1,458/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert holds Aiden's medallion in his hands, and he knows what it means. He pays for the privilege of having this last piece of his lover, and falls apart for just a moment.

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down by @t4tlambert (Teen/14,414/No Archive Warnings Apply)

A fellow Hozier-lyric-title user. Aiden crawls out of his grave and is found by Eskel, who begrudgingly decides to not piss off his little brother and does his best to keep his Cat alive.

Fortunes of the Fearless by @tumbleweedtech (Teen/627/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert is a vicious bastard, and Aiden is lucky enough to be around to appreciate it, even if Lambert's victim is long dead and drowned.

Survival by @kitdubhran (Teen/1,278/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Aiden wakes up in enough pain that he kind of wishes he hadn't. But he does wake up. And we all know who he's gonna go find.

♥️Getting Together & Being Together♥️

Intent by tnico (Teen/18,551/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert does everything in his crotchety (open to interpretation) power to get Aiden to reveal his devious plans and fuck off, except all he wants is to be by Lambert's side. Incredible characterization, funny as hell, and awesome research footnotes.

Bad Blood (Runs True) by @fairytrashmother (Teen/8,368/No Archive Warnings Apply)

The Tournament never happened, and the Cats and Wolves are actually trying to make peace. A young pup and a young kit might just solve their problems

Silver for Monsters by @crimsonherbarium (Explicit/108,559/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

A canon-compliant look at the development of Laiden with awesome cover art and plenty of angst in later chapters. Lambert is slow to trust, so the burn follows thus.

Lacebound by @heronfem (Mature/39,391/Graphic Depictions of Violence)

Lambert and Aiden as young witchers in winter, lacebound by the fucked-up system they live in, and soon, lacebound to each other. Extremely nuanced politics, people, and circumstances, but also something like a college AU, if Bombs 101 was a class

Denial by tnico (Teen/16,989/No Archive Warnings Apply)

This fic quite possibly wins the award for bitchiest Lambert dialogue in existence, and no one loves it more than me and Aiden. They go a-curse-breakin' and have a grand old time together. More awesome research footnotes

Therapeutic Effects by @laurelnose (Teen/900/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert finds Aiden purring himself back to health, and it's mad cute (but also hilarious because Lambert is Lambert)

Fuck Off: A Love Story (In 5+1 Parts) by @skaldingrayne (Mature/17,080/Graphic Depictions of Violence)

Despite all his efforts to appear the contrary, Lambert is just a bit too noble (and then a bit too horny and a bit too in love) to let this mangy Cat die by his own stupidity. He's still gonna bitch about it tho.

i won't say i'm in **** by @purpurred (Mature/5,848/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Keira arranges for a Cat to fulfill one of Lambert's more private fantasies, and Lambert takes it in the worst way possible. That doesn't mean he can stop thinking about the way Aiden held a poisoned knife to his throat.

ease me of its fever by @inexplicifics (Mature/5,226/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Omega Lambert has spent so many years saying absolutely-the-fuck-not-i'll-rip-your-cock-off that it's more than a little difficult to say yes. Aiden is so, so patient.

mountains that are stacked with fear by @xianvar (Mature/11,171/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert, being Lambert, assumes the beautiful love confession he found in Aiden's bag was actually a prank, and lashes out accordingly. He gets his shit together, and his Cat, eventually.

♥️Meeting the Family♥️

Lambert's two orens' man by Ledgea (Teen/1,861/No Archive Warnings Apply)

One part in an incredible series about the slow development of Aiden and Lambert, but it's just a fun bit of Eskel getting to see his baby brother happy

Hide and seek by Ledgea (Mature/6,617/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert sneaks Aiden into Kaer Morhen, and his whole cohort of bastard pups work hard to cover his ass while causing as many problems as witcherly possible; part 1 of 3

a promise to keep by @all-hail-the-witcher (Teen/983/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Tooth-rotting fluff of Aiden in Kaer Morhen, appreciating the effects of good, regular meals on Lambert's physique. Cutagen biscuits are made.

Winter with the Caravan by @damnbert (Teen/14,229/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert goes home with Aiden for a while, and all the other Cats take the opportunity to take the absolute piss out of them both (and maybe do a little matchmaking on the side)

Lambert's Family by @freudensteins-monster (Teen/5,901/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert hides his biological family until he finally feels safe enough not to. They might be growing up around him, but they still welcome him home every year, and they welcome the Wolves and Cats too.

Did he who made the Lamb make thee? by @tumbleweedtech (General Audiences/1,461/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Being the (asshole) older brothers that they are, Geralt and Eskel constantly rib Lambert about being the littlest wolf, and that his mysterious cat must be pint-sized to match. Lambert is happy to prove them wrong.

♥️Good Old Fashioned Smut♥️

wild green wonder by elizabethgee (Explicit/42,554/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Laiden smut in just about every configuration you can think. Sweet and tender, rough and wild, this one has it all. If you like a dom!Aiden and repressed sub!Lambert, this is stellar

Lambert's (Not-So) Mysterious Vial of Oil by @on-a-lucky-tide (Explicit/11,291/No Archive Warnings Apply)

The Lambert-kicks-ass-at-alchemy headcanon applied to sex. He receives (heh), and then passes his glorious knowledge of lube onto a his student, Aiden

Sweeter Than Pride by @blackberrywars (Explicit/2524/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Another self-rec for the f/f lovers. Lambert is a sweet brat and earns herself a spanking so good she cries. Aiden freaks out a little, but after it all, they fall asleep spooned together

An Evening of Frippery by @bard-llama (Explicit/3,105/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert being a power bottom whose gender is "mind your fucking business," but who nonetheless looks fantastic with his exquisitely tailored skirts hiked to his waist

I Like how the day sounds through this new song by Lynge (Explicit/9,222/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Some porn with plot where Aiden forces Lambert to confess to petty theft and also his deep and abiding romantic feelings (in that order).

Problem by elizabethgee (Explicit/1,977/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

In a fic I've just now realized has the exact same premise as one of my wips, Aiden is obsessed with Lambert's thick ass thighs and will do anything to ride them

Cut You Clean by GreenBird (Explicit/4,203/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert loses a bet and has to let Aiden shave him. It has some... interesting effects on him.

Thicker than Water (and Other Poetic Bullshit) by @kushielsmercy (Explicit/2,835/No Archive Warnings Apply)

A mini-character study of Aiden and Lambert through the lens of some filthy blood-play. They're both far more possessive and codependent than they'd want to admit.

Puppies Don't Talk by @damnbert (Explict/8,725/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Very kink-heavy fic of Lambert going fully into subspace and getting to be taken care of for a while. He can't bring himself to really ask for what he wants, but puppies don't talk anyway.

all dressed up (with no place to go) by @childoffantasy (Explicit/6,707/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert fulfills the redhead contract of wearing green and killing it dead, and there's just enough room under his pretty skirt for Aiden to crawl right up it

Thief's Reward by @inexplicifics (Explicit/1,592/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Maybe Lambert shouldn't reward this handsome Cat for stealing his kill, but it's been awhile, and he might as well get something out of the bargain (it's orgasms. and 60% of the corpse profits)

Dichotomy by @tantumuna (Explicit/25,054/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Extremely kink-heavy fic where Aiden and Lambert switch to see whose methods can get Aiden pregnant the fastest.

Kneel For Me by @alllthequeenshorses (Explicit/2,269/No Archive Warning Apply)

Lambert can only really let go with Aiden, and as soon as he can, it's a freefall. Aiden's there to hold him tight. It's some kinky reunion smut, come get a helping.

Catch and Release by @top-notch-swords (Explicit/9,570/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Aiden is deeply possessive and more than willing to manipulate the situation to remind Lambert exactly who he belongs to. Filthy alley sex and a little codependency that they should probably talk about but actually just fuck about

♥️One-Shot Roulette♥️

A Logical Conclusion by @heronfem (Mature/18,674/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Essentially the thesis of Laiden shippers, seeing Lambert's prickly ass and knowing the only logical conclusion is that he must have loved Aiden very deeply, even across space, time, and AUs

Wheel of the Year by @crimsonherbarium (Explicit/20,717/No Archive Warnings Apply)

A series of Lambert and Aiden celebrating the holidays on the outskirts of society, but finding twice the joy for it. Lots of smut, but also sweetness and angst.

You and I (and what we get up to) by @iwillpooponthefloor (Explicit/19,396/No Archive Warnings Apply)

ABCs of Laiden that focus on them as a team of two. They pull off contracts, schemes, and each other, from time to time.

Purr For Me by @round--robin (Explicit/8,407/No Archive Warnings Apply)

A whole bunch of short and sweet snapshots into Laiden. I couldn't put them on this list, but Robin has a lot of other fics combining Laiden with other ships.

♥️Modern AUs♥️

A Beginners Guide to Exploiting the Kaedweni Tax Code For Fun and Profit by @heronfem (Mature/167,193/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Lambert and Aiden get accidentally married and decide to make it work for the tax benefits. And then they fall in love. And work through trauma. And get a cat. And it's gorgeously written.

What Happens at Waffle House by Anoke (Teen/1,993/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

The rituals are intricate, and Lambert's sometimes involve mutual combat with the Waffle House line cook. Somehow, the feral gremlin gets a date out of it.

All those wonders sit in wait for us by Theladyknight23 (Teen/14,847/No Archive Warnings Apply)

My fellow fem!Laiden crusader with a delightful modern take on witchers as a combination between truckers and pest control workers. Americana themes and the best additional tag ever: "love is like bread."

The Bark that's to Your Bite by @theimpressionablelizard (Explicit/12,976/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Where Lambert is Deadpool pre-mutation and he falls in bounty hunter love with Aiden, who I personally imagine looks like Dev Patel from the Green Knight. A little romance, a little co-worker wolves, and lots of swearing.

Three Cats Walk Into A Bar by @halehathnofury (Teen/2,607/No Archive Warnings Apply

Inspired by the lovely @whyzowl's art, it's the Wolves + Ciri dressing Lambert up to get him laid, and Aiden taking the bait.

Helpless, Feckless, Far Too Young by @keirametzbrassknuckles (Mature/14,605/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

The Wolves are a traveling group after a death in the family, and Lambert is so fucking sick of them acting like nothing is wrong. He meets Aiden, and they get on like a fairgound on faire. Written by my personal mistress of angst.

♥️Miscellaneous♥️

Once, Again by @brighteyedjill (Mature/4,521/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Aiden has to save Lambert in a time loop without explaining anything, but we all know Lambert doesn't trust easy. Sometimes the simplest solution is the right one.

The Art of Living by Ledgea (Explicit/25,636/Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)

Lambert loving people as the story of an art gallery, a skill honed from his cohort to his brothers to Aiden, The Damn Cat, when he makes his appearance.

Fields of color by @witcherscrane (Mature/2,057/Major Character Death)

In the wake of Aiden's death, Lambert follows a beautiful illusion with a smile on his face. His brothers help him find rest.

Give Us A Smile by @etcorsolus (Mature/2,945/No Archive Warnings Apply)

A 5+1 of Aiden making Lambert smile. Textual adaptation of that one post "look at you! you're so handsome when you're not being a bitch."

The Basics by @kushielsmercy (Mature/375/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Aiden gets possessed, and Lambert has a choice to make. Ambiguous ending.

Ashes in His Mouth by Faetality (Mature/3,924/Graphic Depictions of Violence)

Fear makes humans cruel. It makes them not care who gets tied to the stake, so long as they can breathe easy while the victim drowns in smoke. Or, Lambert suffers, and Aiden watches.

remember me as i was not as i am by @all-hail-the-witcher (Explicit/40,248/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Aiden has been dead for a very long time, long enough that Lambert has long since forgotten his face. It's just in time for a beautiful man with green eyes to break in through his window and ask for his services.

Deafening Silence by @wolf-and-bard (Explicit/13,230/No Archive Warnings Apply)

Destiny is a stubborn bitch, but it hasn't Lambert, who doesn't give a rat's ass that he's never meant to see Aiden again.

A Spot of Blood by MsThunderFrost (Explicit/3,440, No Archive Warnings Apply)

How the phrase "Pops didn't raise a quitter" turns into a "sex sent me to the ER" story for Lambert, because he's a stubborn bastard who would rather injure himself than communicate.

——————————————————————————————

Let me say a few things outright, because I want zero drama.

This reclist is for the benefit of Laiden fans, and is not meant as a criticism of any other ship or fic.

The fics chosen for this reclist are only ones I have read. It is by no means comprehensive, and definitely favors older fics, since that was when I was deepest in the fandom.

I actually had to cut this short because I hit some kind of content block limit, which. Oh welp. If anyone wants me to remove their fic from this list for any reason, PM me and I'll do it asap

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Ribs

summary: You're not from the world where the Witcher takes place. So, to stay alive, you stay glued to your witcher - Eskel. Catching feelings for him was bound to happen anyway. Right?

Maybe a tiny, life-threatening encounter with a leshy is just the little push the both of you need.

notes: The title is inspired by the song ‘Ribs’ by Lorde, specifically the lyrics ‘And we’ll never go home again.’ Maybe a little more angsty than you expected, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!! I tried to combine both asks into one

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @cookielovesbook-akie @lu-in-the-library @sunndust @ghostcatwhiskers (msg me to be added/removed to any!)

masterlist | based on this request

Eskel had been in the middle of a forest when, almost instantaneously, a figure appeared in front of him. Expecting a sorcerer, Eskel felt his hand grip onto his sword. Just in case.

Instead, he was met with a person that looked so utterly lost and afraid that Eskel knew this was something completely out of the ordinary, and no attack. The next thing he noted is that, when looking at his eyes, this person in front of him was utterly confused.

Without a single word being spoken, Eskel knew that you neither knew where you were, or what a Witcher was. Geralt or Vesemir would have asked for an explanation, but Eskel, stupidly emotional as he was (no matter what people thought about emotions and Witchers) felt something tug at his heart.

He could have left you in the forest, to be devoured by wolves or monsters. He could have left you in the next town, to be ripped apart by the people there. He should have, probably. Instead, Eskel took you with him, on the path.

Perhaps, his reasons weren’t entirely selfless. As he got to know you, Eskel became used to your company, your lack of prejudice. Your warmth, so freely given.

The more he taught you about his world, the more you told him about yours, and Eskel knew that. It made him feel better about keeping you with him, but he knew that, regardless, he should not be falling for you.

***

You held onto Eskel as his horse, Scorpion, began the climb towards Kaer Morhen. The fight against the Leshy had been equally terrifying for you and exhausting for him, and you tried to hold him from slumping forwards too much.

“Are you okay?” you asked him quietly. He nodded. “I am, you’re not. Your heart is beating too quickly.” He replied.

“I hate when you do that.” You shuddered. “Makes me feel like you can read my mind.”

Like you can tell my heart beats faster when you look at me.

“I can only hear your heart, and I’m afraid I cannot change anything about that.” Eskel said. “Why are you afraid?”

You sighed. “Just nervous. I’m practically meeting your family and I don’t even know… should I bow? Or curtsy? I don’t even know how to do that.”

Eskel laughed, shaking his head. He turned to look back at you, and you prayed your heart did not beat faster.

“They will like you.” He assured, before clicking his tongue. Scorpion sped up into a trot, and in the distance, you could see the outlines of what had to be Kaer Morhen. Unlike the few other castles you had seen, this one looked a little bit more like the ones back home.

It was almost in ruins.

As Scorpion walked into the courtyard, Eskel slipped off the horse, before helping you. Your feet hadn’t touched the ground since the Leshy. Eskel hadn’t wanted to stop, had insisted on riding to Kaer Morhen, where you would be safe, and you could feel the consequences of that in your legs now.

“Sore?” Eskel asked, and you nodded. He sighed, taking the bag you had slung over your shoulder to sling over his own. He tried to hide the wince, and failed miserably. If you’d asked him to take the bag, he would have refused, and one look at it was enough to confirm your thoughts. Eskel shook his head.

After he had put Scorpion away, he turned to you. A reassuring squeeze of hands from him had the opposite effect for you. His thumb stroked over the small scar on your left hand, one that you had gotten from hurting yourself early into your time on the Continent. Eskel had fixed it up.

You remembered how he had looked up at you, taken his time to soothe such a small injury while his entire thigh had been bandaged with soaked linen at the same time, crimson red. You thought that that was the moment you fell in love.

Eskel cleared his throat, already a few steps away from you, and you jogged to catch up, nervously laughing. As he opened the doors to Kaer Morhen you took a deep breath, rolled back your shoulders, and exhaled.

At the sight of his brothers, Eskel seemed to relax, laughing happily. The others cheered, and a man with white hair, presumably Geralt, got up to hug him. You stayed where you were, a few paces behind Eskel, wringing your hands as you waited for them to notice you.

Your eyes went over the men there. You thought you recognized Lambert, Coen and Vesemir, but the girl sitting at one of the tables made you pause. She couldn’t be older than 16. What was she doing here?

A wolf whistle ripped you from your thoughts, and you wanted to disappear.

“Eskel!” one of the witchers exclaimed teasingly. “Who is this?”

“A friend.” Eskel said. Oh how that stung. “Vesemir, we must speak.”

“Meeting the in-laws already.” Lambert shouted, and a ripple of laughs went through the men present. You made to follow Eskel, but he stopped you.

“You should stay while I speak with him. He may not be open to… what you are.”

Ouch.

You nodded, watching as Eskel, your only anker in this place, slipped away. Now, all eyes were on you, standing in the entrance, so obviously out of place. Even the girl that sat at one of the long tables stared.

Your skin prickled under their stares, and you gave a nervous smile that made you feel like an idiot. “Hello.” You said, your voice coming out rough, the tone weird, second half of it garbled. Good god, why did this always happen to you?

A few greetings were murmured back to you, and to your relief, many of the Witchers in front of you soon turned back to their conversations. You needed to do something. You couldn’t just stand there and look stupid.

Talk to a Witcher or a teenage girl? Witcher or teenage girl. Neither seemed like the lesser evil, both were incredibly fucking scary. But, the teenage girl seemed just as awkwardly alone as you, so you slipped over to her, sitting down on the bench.

“You look shaken.” She said after a few moments.

You laughed dryly, half out of relief, half out of the fact that you were incredibly shaken. The monsters here were terrifying, and that Leshy? You could still see the moment it had snaked a branch around your ankle, pulling you towards it, playing in your mind.

“All credit goes to the Leshy.” You replied. At that, a hush fell over the hall. Had you said something wrong? Witchers and their goddamn hearing.

The one with the white hair, or, probably, Geralt, turned towards you abruptly. “A Leshy?” he asked.

You nodded slowly. “That’s what Eskel said.”

The teenage girl next to you was no help, only shrugging when you looked at her. Geralt did not respond to you, even if his question had been urgent, leaving you dangling on a precipice of anxiety again.

You told them your name to fill the silence, trying to sound casually, pushing in a quick ‘by the way’ at the end. Finally, someone picked up on something you were saying.

“I’m Ciri.” The girl said. “Geralt’s child surprise.”

“That’s how children usually work.” You snorted, which caused some laughter from the people present, and a brooding stare from Geralt. Did he have some kind of stick up his ass?

“We’re not related.” He said, his voice clipped. He stared at you, and you felt like Geralt could see right through you, sniff you out like a dog.

“Then what’s a child surprise?” you asked. Immediately, you wanted to take your question back. You should have reserved that for Eskel, who knew. He would have understood. Instead, you were barked at by the man named Lambert.

“Have you been living under a rock for the past thousand years?” he asked, and you felt yourself crumble on the inside. However, no explanation followed his question, and all you could do was guess.

What the fuck was a child surprise? Did Witchers adopt? Did people sometimes have to pick up kids along the way? Was it a family heirloom type of thing?

You grabbed for the pitcher with ale, grateful when Ciri handed you an empty cup. Still, when you took a sip, you felt your lips purse. No matter how much ale you drank, you’d never get over the taste of it.

As time ticked on, and Eskel still did not return, you could feel worry imbue itself in your gut. Your knee began to bounce, nails digging into the palms of her hands. Most of the Witchers were gone. Geralt had taken Ciri with him, and the ones named Lambert and Coen were sitting in another corner, playing some kind of game and drinking. You felt a shiver go down your spine, and suddenly, you felt utterly alone.

The dress you were wearing had been bought by Eskel, and it was good. It fit well, the color was a beautiful deep blue, and it was comfortable. But it was nothing you’d have worn back home. Quietly, you drew your knees up to your chest.

If you had a clock, you’d have heard it tick, making the passing of time even more obvious.

At the sound of people approaching, you lifted your head from your knees. You’d almost fallen asleep, and the sudden noise had ripped you out of it. There, at the entrance of the hall, stood Eskel, together with Vesemir.

A relieved smile began to spread across your face, before you remembered what Eskel had said. He may not be open to… what you are.

As Vesemir approached you, the feeling in your gut tightened, anxiety making you shiver again. As Vesemir opened his mouth to speak, you saw Eskel behind him, deathly pale, and a feverish coat of sweat covering his forehead.

“You’re not okay.” You said, pushing off the bench and past Vesemir. Scary old Witchers be damned, Eskel wasn’t doing fine.

“Leshy wasn’t uh… a proper Leshy.” Eskel replied. When he took an idle step forward, you slung his uninjured shoulder around yours, ignoring that he was much too heavy for you to actually help.

Vesemir cleared his voice, and you steeled yourself to argue with Eskel’s adoptive father. “I think it better if we continued this on the morrow.” He said, handing you Eskel’s pack. With some effort, you managed to pick it up, pointedly ignoring Eskel’s grunt of protest.

“Anything else?” you asked Vesemir carefully.

“Make sure he gets his rest, stubborn as he is.” He replied. “Wake the entire keep if something’s wrong.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to swallow your fear.

Even in his delirium, Eskel helped you, directing you towards a small room. With the few skills you’d picked up from him, you managed to stoke the flames in the fireplace, lighting the candle next to the small cot with it. Searching through the pack, you picked out a blanket, preparing to get comfortable in the chair.

As you heard the bed creak behind you, you whirled around.

“Where am I?” Eskel asked you, looking utterly lost.

You sighed, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Kaer Morhen. You…”

“The Leshy?” Eskel asked. That much was just… gone?

“Dead. Really dead, you made sure. With fire, I think and… lots of stabbing.” You replied, and Eskel gave a weak smile. He made to get up, immediately gritting his teeth against the pain, and you stopped him gently.

“You’re taking the bed tonight, no arguments this time. Vesemir’s orders.” You said firmly.

Eskel’s brows drew together. “You met Vesemir?” he asked.

“Not really.” You shrugged. “We were both too concerned about you to talk about me. But he didn’t try to kill me, so there’s that.”

Eskel gave an exhausted laugh, grunting in pain as the bandages tugged on his wounds. “Your heart is… faster.” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Stressful day.” You lied.

He nodded, too tired to insist on sleeping on the floor. For once, you were glad for it, not having to fight over whether or not he would take the bed and you the floor (he never let you, insisting that Witchers didn’t need sleep anyway).

***

Your neck was stiff when you woke up the next morning, and it took some effort to push yourself out of your chair. Eskel had sat up at the end of his bed, looking at you tiredly.

“Morning.” You said, your mouth sticky from sleep. You grabbed the pitcher from the bedside, taking a sip of water.

“You slept on the floor.” Eskel noted. “Never wanted you to.”

“It’s not a big deal. You’re looking better, that’s all that matters.” You shrugged, but Eskel only shook his head, pulling at his shirt. You turned away, giving him some privacy. Instead, you rummaged in your pack, looking for the potion he’d need.

“I wanted you to always be comfortable.” He said. You paused, trying not to overthink his words. The potion in your hand felt uncharacteristically cold. Keeping your eyes peeled to the ground, you set it down next to Eskel.

“I always was comfortable. I only have a stiff neck.” You replied. Eskel moved behind you, his hands already beginning to work the knots out of your muscles. You reached up to stop him.

“Eskel, I appreciate it, I really do, but you need to take care pf yourself.” You said firmly. When you looked at him, he had an expression of rejection on his face. Immediately, you regretted your words.

“I’m sorry, I only meant-“ you began.

Eskel interrupted you. “Yeah, I know. You want me to make sure I’m alright. But…” he trailed off. “I want to take care of you.”

There wasn’t a world where you wouldn’t have mulled over his words, hoping that there was more meaning to them. And so, you took his hands into yours, smiling at him nervously.

“Thank you, Eskel. That means the world to me.”

“Yours or mine?” he joked, and you felt yourself smile at his stupid joke.

“Both.”

Eskel paused at that, and immediately, you felt stupid for blurting it out. His hands held yours a little tighter, and a knot formed in your throat. There was a small part of you that was hoping, not just that you hadn’t said anything wrong, but that he would reply to this what you wanted him to say.

Instead, Eskel dropped your hands, turning back to the bed and making it mechanically. You missed the blush on his face entirely.

In the afternoon, you took care of Scorpion, watching as Ciri trained in the yard by herself, a frustrated expression on her face. After a while, you led Scorpion into the stables, walking back out into the yard, and smiling at Ciri. She gave you a strained smile back, and you noticed the irritated skin on her hand.

“Eskel wraps his sword grips with fabric to make them more comfortable in winter.” You told her, nodding at her reddened hand.

“My grandmother never needed any of that.” Ciri only barked out.

“Well, maybe she didn’t have dry skin.” You replied, and Ciri stuck her sword into the snow a little more aggressively than necessary.

“What are you training for?” you asked, idly twisting on a bracelet Eskel had gifted you once.

“I want to be as good as Geralt.” She replied.

“He’s very good, from what I hear.” You said. “But I think you need to take a rest as well. You’re neither a witcher, nor a man. Not that that’s a bad thing. Enough rest will make you better.”

Ciri sighed, handing you the sword. “Could you help me with the grip?”

You nodded, tucking it under your arm and walking towards the dining hall with Ciri.

“So… you and Eskel?” Ciri asked after a while. You almost tripped, regaining your composure quickly.

“No, we’re only friends.” You replied. “We just spend a lot of time together, like you and Geralt.”

Ciri scrunched up her nose in disgust. “I’d hope not. We don’t look at each other like lovesick idiots.”

You almost scoffed indignantly. “We do not look at each other like lovesick idiots. I also doubt that Eskel is in any capacity in love with me.”

“So you are in love with him?” Ciri asked.

Fucking teenage girls.

You didn’t reply to that, and Ciri’s smile widened. “Don’t even think about saying anything.” You bit out. “I just helped you with dry hands.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Can I tell Geralt? He’ll give Eskel a kick. You know, he firmly believes that you’re the one not in love. If he finds this out… he’ll have a field day.”

You buried your face in your hands. “He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

“Apart from the occasional grunt, no.” Ciri replied, not that that was much of a reassurance. You knew she was probably still going to spill your best kept secret to Geralt.

“Only Geralt. No one else.” You assented, and Ciri skipped away, leaving you with her sword. Sighing, you dragged yourself up crumbling stone stairs and into your room. Eskel had gotten it ready for you while you’d been out taking care of Scorpion. It felt strange to have one to yourself again after so long. Still, it turned out you didn’t have to be alone for long.

Only a few minutes later, Eskel knocked on your door, carefully checking in on you. You knew it was silly, but it was the things like this that made your heart flutter each time.

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, setting down Ciri’s sword.

“Better.” Eskel said. He noticed the sword with a confused smile. “Are you training? You should’ve told me.”

“Oh no, I was just helping Ciri. Her hands are too dry because of the cold, kind of how yours get sometimes.”

“You remembered that?” Eskel asked.

“Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t I?” you replied, smiling at him.

“I’m in love with you.” Eskel said quietly, then. Your heart stopped for a good second. You stared, blankly, trying to comprehend what Eskel had just said. He paled at your silence, already beginning to back out of your room, but you quickly grabbed his hand.

“I- Me too. I am in love with you too, is what I’m trying to say. I didn’t realise that wrapping a sword would be what it takes to hear it but I really, really, really like you. A lot.” You rambled. “I mean, you’re sweet, and caring, and-“

Eskel stepped forward, hands that were made to kill gently cradling your jaw. He hesitated, eyes asking for permission. When your hands steadied themselves on his chest, he closed the bridge between you, his lips softly meeting yours. You sighed into the kiss, deepening it impatiently until your hands tangled in Eskel’s hair.

After a while, you broke the kiss, heart racing in your chest.

Eskel noticed. “Your heart is…”

“It’s fast, I know. Most of the times you pointed it out, it was because of you.” You confessed. His eyes widened.

“Since… Since I fixed up your hand?” Eskel asked with sudden realisation, and you nodded. He gave you a small smile.

“We’re such idiots.” You laughed, and Eskel joined you. The sound of it was so beautiful you could not help kissing him again.

[curlygirlybitchachos]

Human Reader

*the witchers sitting around the desk*

Geralt: no you don't understand. Jaskier sometimes can be so reckless I'm wondering how is he still alive?

Eskel: oh god I can feel this.

Geralt: hmm... No offense, but Y/n looks more calm than the bard.

Eskel: once when I was on a hunt, Y/n stayed at the camp. We were traveling together like... A month I guess? They didn't know much about witcher stuff. When I get back from the hunt I found them looking straight at the fire. And when I asked them what's going on, they told me, that they drinked all of my potions because "they were all shiny and pretty". I had never been so worried and nervous in my whole life.

Geralt: you won. *under his breath* thanks god for Jaskier.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 52

Jaskier is running away from his abusive home, cutting them all off without a word, and disappearing into the night to move to somewhere with a better future for himself. Only issue? He has no car, or money. So he sucks it up and tries hitchhiking, regardless of all the horror stories everyone tells you about. He was expecting some awkward drive with some old random trucker or something, like what always happens in the movies. What he wasn't expecting was for three brothers on a yearly family bonding road trip to agree to take him with them across multiple states (or uk equivalent) What he REALLY wasn't expecting was to fall in love with one of the men, who has long white hair, piercing golden eyes, an awkward-shaped smile, a ridiculously named pet horse, and a stupid sense of humor.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

20 with Laiden please!

20 - "I'm always on your side."

Lambert slammed the door to his room closed, fighting the urge to scream or yell or throw something, no matter how cathartic it might be. He didn't want to give Vesemir the satisfaction of knowing how much he'd gotten under his skin.

The two of them had always been at loggerheads ("Too alike" Eskel had commented once. Lambert had promptly and soundly beaten his ass in training for such slander), but it had been worse since the other Wolves had found out about Aiden.

For all their suspicions at first, Geralt and Eskel at least eventually reached some form of grudging acceptance: Lambert was still returning to them alive and well every year after all, and The Cat - according to Lambert - had never pushed his luck fishing for an invitation to The Keep, nor had he dragged Lambert off to the proverbial lions den that was Dyn Marv. Vesemir on The other hand...

Every winter since, it had been more criticism, more thinly veiled comments about Lambert's decisions, snipes about his sense of judgement, backhanded comments on things he knew wouldn't even register had it been either Geralt or Eskel. The old man had started early this year too, he hadn't even been back a full week.

He was sure that if he bought Aiden up here, Vesemir would soon change his tune if he gave him a chance. The problem was, he didn't trust Vesemir enough to not try stabbing Aiden for long enough to do that. His brothers had tried to help to begin with but over time the words had dwindled down to sympathetic looks. Lambert didn't want to blame them - if Vesemir hadn't listened the second time, he wouldn't listen the hundredth, but part of him that was steadily growing bigger wanted to curl up against the feeling of being so alone in his own home and yet knowing things would be worse if he didn't return every year. There was no way Vesemir and by extension Geralt and Eskel wouldn't assume the worst if he just didn't show up, just as they would if he told them he'd be wintering with Aiden (if he ever asked). He was damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

Just once, he'd like someone else to yell at Vesemir when he started on him. To tell him to shut the fuck up, that he didn't know what he was talking about, 'respect' be damned. He knew that would never happen though, it was his job to be the disrespectful one, after all.

He dragged himself from where he'd been slumped against the door on the cold stone floor (when had he sat down?) and grabbed his pack, upturning it aggressively. Didn't want to give the old man any more ammunition by not doing laundry.

He blinked in surprise when he saw it. A small slip of parchment rolled up and placed in one of his empty potion bottles. Odd. After some minutes trying to fish it out and not give into the urge to just smash the damn thing to get it out, he unfurled it and gave a small smile. Someone up there had a weird sense of humour.

As if summoned by Lambert's thoughts, familiar, spidery writing stared back at him. The slightly slanted i, the y that sometimes looked more like a g and could only be differentiated by the loops made by the tails - Aiden always went a little fancier on his Y's for some reason.

"I'm always on your side."

[0dde11eth]

Kaer morons and their green thumbs:

Papa vesemir: has a large garden. Huge variety of plants. Dozens of greenhouses. Everything is lush and thriving. He's actually cross bred several species and has made several new better varieties of common plants

Eskel: could keep a nice garden going. Something simple and pretty

Geralt: can keep a house plant alive

Jaskier: does hours of research. Buys the highest quality soil, and does everything by the book. (It would die if it wasn't for geralts intervention.)

Lambert: somehow kills a plastic one