#witcher wolf pack

[nex-has-gender-envy]

Geralt of Rivia

wolfcut is named after Geralt, I stand by that

This design is very personal to fanfic series With a Conquering Air by @inexplicifics .

[I can't get it out of my head]

#I always imagined him with big fluffy white fur because Kaer Morhen is cold as helll #accidental warlord au #the witcher #witcher #geralt of rivia #With a Conquering Air #the Accidental Warlord and His Pack #jaskier x geralt #the white wolf #witcher games #i think i want to ilustrated some scenes from jt #fanart

[hoomhum]

Tag Game: Find the Words

I was tagged by @inexplicifics who gave me the words "kiss", "laugh" and "snarl" to find in my WIPS. Thanks for the tag! This was fun. :)

Kiss was kind of hard to find in something I haven't posted yet! But here's an excerpt from the very beginning of a WIP titled Ghost!Jask.

"All our girls are booked up tonight," says the madam as they drag themselves through the ornate doors of the brothel. She spares them only a brief glance, lip curling in disgust. "And the lads." "Please," Geralt says, turning blindly toward her voice. "We just need a room. Not company."  "And a bath," Eskel adds, adjusting his grip on Geralt's arm, where it lays over his shoulder. "We've coin to pay. We won't be any trouble." He needs to get Geralt horizontal, needs to look at his eyes and get another dose of Swallow in him, and Kiss for himself; the wound in his gut isn't closing up like it should. It's burning with some sort of infection.  The madam sniffs at them both. The room is full of women, and a few men— all employees, by the looks of them. They seem to be frozen at the sight of them. Wearily, Eskel digs into his gambeson and pulls free a pouch of gold, only stained a little by his own blood. It's nearly all that they've made on this contract, but it won't do them any good dead. "There's an attic," the madam says finally. "We don't use it, but for storage. I'll send a bath up, but you won't be dragging your filthy selves through the building in that state."

Laugh, from an untitled omegaverse AU, where Jaskier finds himself won when a mysterious alpha challenges his fiance to a duel.

"I'm sorry."  He looks up to find that all three Alphas have stopped what they're doing and are looking at him with concern. It's Geralt that had spoken to him from across the fire. "I'd make him take you back, if that's what you wanted. If they'd listen. I was— not in control of myself. I didn't mean to take you away." Jaskier huffs a sad laugh. "He was going to take my voice. I should be thanking you." "He what?" "I'm a bard. Classically trained, studied at Oxenfurt, all of it. But he didn't care about that, apparently," Jaskier says to his bowl of porridge. "I was just a good match. Financially. He wanted my family's contacts. When you intervened he'd just announced he'd found a hedge witch willing to silence me. So I wouldn't be so. Annoying." "What the fuck," Lambert spits, looking back in the direction of town. "Damn, omega, you want me to kill him for you? I will." Geralt's expression is furious, a growl building low in his throat. "I'll help." "That wouldn't help anything," Eskel cuts in. He reaches out, as though to touch Jaskier's shoulder, but seems to think better of it. "I'm sorry. We'll find you someone better."

Snarl, from the latest chapter of Double Down, my thief!Jaskier story:

"You bringing him to poker tomorrow?" Eskel asks, moving to power down his laptop and collect his shirt and jacket. Geralt swears beneath his breath. They have a tradition, the three of them, to meet for a game at Vesemir's each month.  "Why the fuck would he do that?" Lambert snarls, glancing up as he shoves his own laptop into his bag.  "So we can stop trading the same two hundred crowns between us all. New blood, and all that," Eskel says.  "Poker?" Jaskier joins them, buttoning up his shirt and collecting his jacket. "Ooh, is this like a team bonding activity?"

#the witcher #geraskier #wolf pack/Jask #Jaskier #hfdasjk just realized my excerpts are huge #enjoy them anyway please haha

[eskel-loves-lilbleater]

I know, I know! Last one for now, I promise. Just couldn't sleep & stupid ideas were eating my brain.

Remember this is as per the AI, but I thought this was cool and some awesome inspiration.

#the witcher #art post #crossover #mashups #tron legacy #tron fanart #wiedzmin #kaer morhen wolf pack #eskel witcher #lambert witcher #vesemir witcher #geralt witcher #midjourney ai

[on-a-lucky-tide]

(Eskel/Lambert/Geralt, Lambskel, anal sex, oral sex, rimming, overstimulation, huge cock, desperate bottom Lambert, #wolf lads get rekt 2022)

Lambert shuffled through his hand and squinted at the line up on the table. They played the same game on the second evening of winter every year, but Lambert could never get over the fucking jitters in his chest. It was just Gwent. Just fucking Gwent. Lambert had been the champion of the northern kingdoms every year since he'd started on the Path, only dropping a season here and there when he couldn't be asked.

But playing Eskel? His usual strategies seemed to play out in a senseless jumble. The cards fell wrong, the plays never went his way. He knew why. It was the stakes. There was something more than money on the table; Lambert's arse. Or Eskel's. And fuck did Lambert want Eskel's arse. He'd watched it all day while they'd prepared the castle for winter. It tested the fabric of Eskel's trews when he bent over, full and just fucking perfect. Lambert wanted to sink his teeth into it as much as he wanted to sink his cock in, and--

"Your play, little wolf," Eskel rumbled and Lambert's eyes snapped up from the table. Eskel was smiling at him, honey eyes glittering with mirth. He knew he had the upper hand. There was sweat on Lambert's upper lip and he was fidgeting in his chair. One round down, if he lost a second in a row, then it was all over. What's worse was that Lambert had upped the stakes this year, allowing himself to be goaded and baited by the only man that could match Eskel.

"Don't think he has a play left," Geralt said, lounging by the fireplace. He slouched low in the armchair, his legs spread, an ale slanted over his thigh. Golden eyes flashed hungrily in the dim light, reflecting the dancing flames at his side. "Have you?"

"Your mouth won't be so smart when it's wrapped around my dick, cream puff," Lambert shot back and Geralt snorted with amusement before he took a swig of ale. Lambert knew it was a lost cause. Bolstered by his success on the circuit that year, he'd let Geralt in on it. Fuck, the only thing as good as having Eskel's arse would be Pretty Boy's smart-alec mouth sucking him off before hand, and maybe kissing him while he made Eskel come on his cock. Yeah, that... that had been a wet dream sweet enough to make Lambert arrogant.

But now, he was as good as fucked. He had multiple archers out, but his points were low and he'd overcommitted to spending gold early. Fuck. Fuck. He threw down the archer in his hand, drew a card, and slouched back.

Eskel leaned back, his head cocked to the side, and Lambert watched his hand as it left the table into his lap. The table was low enough to leave everything on full display; the slow, deliberate progress of Eskel's hand over the crest of his thigh to his full codpiece. There was no give to the material as Eskel rubbed his fingers across it, a soft sigh low in his throat, and Lambert's nostrils flared. Shit, the bastard was hard already.

If Eskel was that excited, then he thought he'd won. Knew he'd won.

"Oh, Lambert," Eskel said, his gnarled lips lifting into a more mischievous smile. "Better luck next year." The card hit the table and Lambert stared down at his own fucking face. Two damage plus additional damage to every duplicate. Every. Fucking. Duplicate. Lambert's line of archers folded like tissue paper.

"Hah," Geralt barked.

"Fuck off." Lambert scrubbed his hands over his face and watched Eskel through the slats of his fingers. His heart sat in his throat, his stomach fluttering. When Eskel's hand lifted and he beckoned with a crooked finger, Lambert left his seat like he was on the end of a string. He stood before Eskel with his arms hanging by his sides, a gasp punching from his chest as Eskel's palm rubbed over his crotch.

"So hard already," Eskel rumbled, massaging in firm, groping circles until Lambert's knees began to shake.

Geralt huffed. "He threw the game. Wanted you to wreck his little arse."

"Come over here and say that, pa--ahh!" Lambert didn't get to finish. Eskel squeezed his ample handful and Lambert's hips bucked forward. He latched onto Eskel's wrist helplessly, each shuddering breath making his lips quiver. He hadn't realised how on the edge he was, but now that Eskel was carefully plucking open his belt and ties, Lambert felt like he'd shake apart.

"Hmm, think you need to relax a little," Eskel said, hot breath fluttering over the flushed skin of Lambert's prick as it sprang free. The tip was already wet, precum welling from the slit as Eskel's fingers ghosted over a vein on his shaft. Eskel descended on him like a man starved, swallowing him to the root in one go, and Lambert's head fell back helplessly.

"Fuck, both look amazing," Geralt breathed, rubbing slowly at the growing bulge of his codpiece. Lambert dragged his eyes away to look down at Eskel, lips stretched wide around the base of his cock as his throat squeezed tight.

"Es--esk--fuh--" Lambert gasped, fingers burying in the mop of black hair with its shitty fucking haircut that had been the same for about a hundred years, but just seeing it every winter made Lambert feel all sorts of ways, because fuck Eskel could slowly pull him apart without even trying, and -

Two big hands squeezed his arse, pulling Lambert closer until Eskel's nose pressed to his groin, and then the pressure was easing. Eskel pulled off, saliva and precum dripping down his chin, and Lambert groaned helplessly. "C'mon, just..."

"Hmm." Eskel didn't seem to care. He mouthed over Lambert's balls, sucking gently, swirling his tongue, feasting on the taste of sweat and arousal. The only thing keeping Lambert upright was the grip Eskel had on him, his belt buckle clattering loudly around his thighs as he shook. Chair legs scraped nearby as Geralt left his perch, moving to Eskel's back for a better view.

"Nice." Geralt tilted his head, admiring the slant of Lambert's cock over Eskel's face, the misty look in Lambert's eyes. Yeah, Lambert knew he was hot, even managed a faint smirk before his head flopped back again and Eskel growled hungrily against the tender skin of his sac.

"Can show you an even nicer one," Eskel said as he pulled away, and Lambert's mouth dropped open.

"Here?"

They were in one of the old workrooms. A few years back they'd converted it into a general living space. It was a damn sight easier to heat than the grand hall, and most of the beaten up furniture had been gathered from the crumbling rooms around the keep. There wasn't much; a few armchairs, the low coffee table scattered with cards. But it felt a little more illicit than Eskel's fucking bedroom.

"Yeah," Eskel replied lightly, spinning his forefinger in the air. "Put your hands on the table, spread your legs."

Lambert's breath hitched in his throat but Eskel's tone brooked no argument. They'd made a deal. The same deal for the last five years, and it had been Lambert who had let Geralt in on it so he shouldn't get coy now. And fuck, yeah, his arse was a masterpiece, so...

Lambert let his trews slide down his legs to pool around his still booted feet and turned. He planted his hands on the edges of the low table and arched his back, gratified by the hitched sigh of admiration from one of the men behind him. Yeah, he was hot. He knew it. And he spread his thighs a little more, dropping his shoulders, with a little shimmy of the hips. His shirt slid up his back, revealing an expanse of bronze skin with its myriad of scars.

"Mm, yeah, can see why you're keen," Geralt said, his speech a little slurred from the Gull and the ale. Clothing rustled, Eskel's chair creaked as it moved, and Lambert bit out a tight cry as a warm, wet tongue slid down his cleft.

"Fuck," Eskel growled from somewhere over Lambert's shoulder. "He likes that, don't you, little wolf? Always wanted Geralt to kiss your arse, how's it feel?"

"Hnng." Lambert couldn't manage words. Geralt was a fucking master with his tongue. Of course he was; there could be no other reason that the witch kept his whiny ass around. But fuck it was something else to be on the receiving end. Geralt spread Lambert open, thumbs pressing into firm muscles, and lapped slowly over his hole. Geralt teased him into desperate clenches as the tip of his tongue flicked over his rim, making him buck and wriggle. Lambert melted under Geralt's attention, moaning into the table as his cock hung hard and heavy, drooling a tick pool of precum onto his own Gwent card. It was so good. So much. But not enough. He could walk the precipice, hold on and not embarrass himself with how desperate he was.

When Geralt's tongue pressed inside him, Lambert's eyes clenched shut as he tried to stave off the climax pooling in his gut. Geralt seemed to sense his resistance, taking his cock even as he licked into his soft furl. It took only a few slow, firm tugs for Lambert to peak, cock thrusting through Geralt's grip as come wetted his fingers. Lambert felt the bluster of Geralt's breathy chuckle against his spit-slick hole and groaned.

"So good," Geralt said, almost to himself. His hand withdrew from between Lambert's thighs and in the next moment cum-wet fingers pressed into the buttery soft muscle of Lambert's arse, making his back bow like a bitch presenting. "He's desperate to be full, look at that."

Lambert managed to twist enough to glance over his shoulder. He could see Eskel in his peripheral, his huge dick free from his codpiece and slick with oil where he was fisting it slowly. Those honey eyes were watching Geralt and Lambert intently, his angular jaw slack, his lips damp. "Yeah... fuck me.." Lambert rasped. "Want you, big guy. Want you so bad."

Eskel hummed as Geralt stepped back, head cocked the side, gaze misty with want. "C'mon, come get what you want." He held his cock upright, large hand squeezing at the base, and Lambert's mouth went dry. Geralt was watching from behind the armchair, his mouth still wet and slick. They wanted him to go and impale himself. They knew this was what he'd wanted, who was he kidding? He could have beaten Eskel any other day, with any other price on offer. But being stuffed full of Eskel's cock wasn't an opportunity he could pass up, even if he would never outright ask for it.

Lambert staggered upright, his knees weaker than a foal's in spring, and shuffled back. He felt Eskel's steadying hand on his hip as he lowered himself, ankles and feet tangled in his trews and useless. Eskel liked that, though. He liked it when Lambert and as a little off kilter, unsteady, because it made him desperate. Lambert felt the tip of Eskel's prick line up, wet with oil, and knew the stretch was going to make his eyes water.

His arms shook under his own weight, hands braced on the arms of the chair, thighs spread as much as he could. He lowered in increments, the burn of Eskel's cock working inside him slowly. Fuck, it was so good. Eskel didn't rush him, didn't thrust, but Lambert could hear his breathing become more ragged as Lambert's body sucked at him with each lift.

After an agonising eternity, Lambert finally managed to work himself down Eskel's length to sit in his lap. He felt Geralt's hand slip beneath his chin, nails raking through his beard, and his mouth fell open in a silent plea. Geralt seemed to know, his fingers teasing over Lambert's full lips to press on his tongue. "He wants to be full both ends, huh?"

"He always does. Perfect hole. Fucking hot and desperate." Eskel ground his hips up, holding Lambert in place, and Lambert's eyes rolled back. "Ah ah," Eskel tapped him, "if you wanna be fucked, better get movin'."

Lambert gripped the arms of the chair and lifted his hips slowly, groaning at the ache that Eskel left behind as he eased out. When he rolled back down, the stretch was a little easier, but Eskel still ground over every sweet spot and nerve ending. Lambert needed more, he needed to feel speared open, needed Eskel's load leaking out of him. He bobbed faster, shallow at first as he found his rhythm, until he was bouncing in Eskel's lap, his head held back by Geralt's hand.

Eskel growled and snarled near his ear, teeth biting into his shoulder, and Lambert moaned around Geralt's fingers, spit sliding down his cheek and chin. They were prying him open, filling him up, Eskel's thick cock molding his body into shape. His biceps ached with the pressure of moving his body, but he didn't stop, couldn't stop, desperately chasing the pleasure.

"Need his mouth on me," Geralt grunted, his hand pulling away. Lambert's head fell forward just as Eskel pulled him down for a hard thrust, grinding his cock in deep and keeping Lambert pinned to his lap. Lambert watched Geralt circle the low table and then straddle the end, his ruddy cock sitting in the v of his open trews. Eskel lifted Lambert effortlessly, fat cock pulling free with an obscene noise, and forced him onto unsteady legs before pushing him down to the table.

"Time to breed you properly, little wolf." His voice was husky, raw from the deep, pleased growls torn from him by the desperate grip of Lambert's body. Lambert flopped forward, his knees spread wide, and let Geralt pull his head down. The salty musk filled his senses as he swallowed Geralt's cock, the hand in his hair tightened and he relaxed his neck, letting Geralt fuck his face with a gentle pressure.

Lambert groaned as Eskel took his hips and fed his cock back inside, bottoming out in one smooth thrust. The big wolf's answering moan rumbled through Lambert's entire body, and he arched his back low, his body submissive as Eskel thrust in deep. The angle was fucking perfect, Eskel's prick grinding over Lambert's sweet spot with every pass. Lambert had filled again, cock adding to the mess already on the table surface.

The wet sounds of Geralt's cock sliding past his lips, the slap of skin as Eskel fucked him open, were obscene. Lambert dissolved into the pleasure of it, moaning loudly and freely as he submitted to their hold. Every sense was flooded, overwhelmed, his body wrung out on a tightrope. He could feel Eskel's firm grip holding him in place and Geralt's in his hair. When Eskel shifted, broad chest pressing to Lambert's back, to grind into him deeper, Lambert wailed around Geralt's cock.

He could hear their lips meet, the slide of their tongues, their soft, desperate moans. They were kissing over him, their cocks buried to the root, his body pinned between them; he was their toy for the night, their plaything. Something special shared and enjoyed together. Lambert's eyes rolled back and he came hard so hard he saw lights behind his eye lids.

"Hng, fuck," Eskel grunted, drawing back to fuck Lambert hard through the aftershocks. Geralt spilled down Lambert's throat seconds later, teased over by the feral look on Eskel's face as he enjoyed the needy clench of Lambert's body. Lambert's knees spread wide as Eskel's hips stuttered, letting Eskel spill deep inside him with a satisfied groan. When Eskel pulled out, he teased a thumb against Lambert's puffy hole, making his lover buck on the table as oversensitivity made every muscle seize.

Geralt pulled his chin up. "Like that, don't you? Eskel coming inside you. Filing you up. Gonna keep you full all winter, little wolf. Keep your legs spread for us, use your pretty mouth." Geralt smoothed a thumb over Lambert's lower lip, and Lambert licked gently at the pad. "Fuck, you're perfect."

Eskel's fingers worked inside him and Geralt held him still, his back arched. They had him gasping and begging within moments, Eskel's fingers stroking over his prostate in slow, firm circles. "Please, please... Fuck, ah, Esk--" Lambert's entire body shook as they wrung another orgasm out of him, and then another. Geralt teased his nipples, tweaking them between finger and thumb, while Eskel fondled his balls, leaving his aching cock to leak onto the table. By the time they were done with him, tears of overstimulation leaked down Lambert's cheeks and only Geralt's arms kept him upright.

"Hmm, this winter's gonna be fun," Geralt murmured later, with Lambert snoozing on the rug by the fire. "Think he'll agree to free use?"

"Hope so. Wouldn't mind fucking him over a few tables." Eskel leaned down and threaded his fingers gently into Lambert's hair. He would make sure Lambert didn't regret throwing the match.

#lambert #witcher lambert #eskel #witcher eskel #geralt of rivia #lambskel #lambralt #gerskel #wolf pack #wolf lads get rekt 2022 #tw3 #the witcher games

[geraskierficrecs]

New Mafia AU Story!

Check out An Offer You Can’t Refuse here.

Teaser:

“Hi!” Jaskier chirped.  He kept his face open and guileless and ignored the way the other wolf swayed closer, helpless against the temptation.  “I just wanted to say thank you for the drink.”

“You’re very welcome.”  Voorhis smirked and tossed a few bills toward Lambert, signaling the bartender imperiously.  “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

It was obvious that Voorhis had never really had to work for sexual favors–nor had he ever had to consider whether his flings might be a threat to him.  In his mind, what couldn’t be bought could be threatened or blackmailed.  Voorhis’ tastes in liquor and sex ensured he never could rise above the position he held now–too much of a liability for his boss to trust in anything besides violence.

In fact, it was entirely possible that Voorhis would be his most useful right before Jaskier gutted him.

He let his eyes grow wide at the display of wealth.  “Are you here with someone?”

Voorhis’s focus dropped to the shadow of a nipple flashing beneath Jaskier’s shirt.  The wolf licked his lips.  “Why?  Were you hoping I’d leave with you?”

“Oh, no, I didn’t– I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to,” Jaskier made a show of ducking his head down like he was hiding a blush.  The movement made it easier to cover the way he’d palmed Voorhis’ phone and slipped it into his own pocket.  “I have to finish my set.”

If he could get Voorhis to follow him willingly out of the club, he could get the information he needed and be gone before anyone thought to question the nameless musician who’d chatted with him at the bar.  Even better if he could just give Voorhis a location to meet him at.  Then he wouldn’t have to burn this fake identity right away.  All he needed to do was ensure Voorhis was obsessed enough to walk away from the safety of Kaer Morhen.

#mafia au #modern au #my stuff #geralt/jaskier #geraltxjaskier #jaskier/geralt #jaskier whump #hurt/comfort #Angst with a happy ending #badass jaskier #badass geralt #werewolf mates #werewolf jaskier #werewolf geralt #wolf packs #morally grey jaskier #morally grey geralt #ao3feed #the witcher fanfiction

[drop-dead-art]

Kidnapper: I have your son

Vesemir: Which one

Kidnapper: The loud annoying one

Vesemir: which. one.

Kidnapper: he keeps calling me a stupid fucker

Vesemir: you’re reeeeally not narrowing this down. What colour eyes?

Kidnapper: gold?

Vesemir: Oh good, you have Lambert, I was worried you had Jaskier.

#vesemir #lambert #jaskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #eskel #jaskier and his wolf pack

[lxxse-cannxn]

WOLF PACK

“Relax, I know how to tame wolves...”– Dunbar the Hunter’s last words.

X X X / X X X / X X X

PSD

Requests Open! Please send em'!

#wolf pack #wolves #gwent #the witcher #witcher #snow #teeth #fangs #arctic #arctic wolves #moon #full moon #grey #white #blue #scenery #hands free #stimblr #stimboard #aesthetic stim #aes stim #my stimboards #stim #stimmy #visual stim #canine #wolf #requests open #animals

[ro-is-struggling]

The Princess and The Wolf || PART 1 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds), my shitty titles (I’m so bad at it, I’m so sorry)

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

Notes: Look,  I was in the mood for writing something cute and fluffy and magical (but also it's Geralt so it as to be angsty). I know those are probably not the words that come to your mind when you think of Geralt, but let me change your mind! Also I love writing healers/nature witches. Can you tell my fav character as a kid was Flora from Winx Club? 

This is my first time writing something like this (as in this style of narrative and for this character in particular) so be gentle!

READ PART 2 HERE

Geralt was not used to feeling that way. In his many years of living on this earth, he had never missed anyone the way he missed her. He was a lone wolf who, despite having his pack, enjoyed traveling from town to town with his horse as his only companion. He enjoyed the silence and tranquility, and did not tend to miss home too much —finding that his annual visits in the winter were more than enough to catch up with his brothers while healing his wounds. 

However, he did miss her when he was traveling. He missed feeling the warm touch of her skilled hands on his wounds as she healed him. He missed waking up to the sound of her laughter, talking to her cat as she prepared breakfast. He even missed her scolding and the look of concern she gave him every time he arrived at the door of her cabin hidden in the forest, injured. She made him feel special, often occupying his thoughts and dreams. He knew what it was, but refused to call it by name —if he did, it became real and he didn't know if he was ready for that.

Such was his longing to see her that he was almost happy to be wounded in battle, finding the perfect excuse to show up at her door once again. His wounds were deep, the beast's venom slowly spreading through his system. Were it not for the fact that he was close to her home, Geralt was fairly certain he would not have reached her in time. His healing skills were limited and only served to make his journey to the hut more bearable. Yet, the closer he got to her, the less his body ached. The promise of her company alone was enough to cure his afflictions.

Geralt was weak when he arrived at her door. From the way her natural cheerful expression turned into a worried grimace when she saw him on the other side of the wood, it was safe to assume he was not looking good. She rushed him to bed, asking him a thousand questions as she paced back and forth, gathering the necessary herbs and potions to treat his wounds. He answered no more than necessary, giving her just enough information to treat him and sparing her the details of his journey. 

He was distracted, his mind clouded by the lack of blood and the poison spreading through his body, but also by the sweet floral scent that surrounded him. It was a perfume he could only describe as the very essence of her, a mixture of jasmine, roses and a hint of vanilla that followed her everywhere, leaving a special scent in the air that assaulted the witcher's nostrils, rendering him powerless. 

"Drink this," she told him as she offered him a vial of a pale green liquid. It was a potion that would help with the poison, she explained, though he needed no reason to obey her. Geralt trusted her completely and would have drank anything she offered without question. 

"Try to hold still, this might sting a little." She warned him, pushing his clothes aside so she could treat the deep gash in his chest. She smeared her fingers with a paste that had a peculiar odor, rubbing it over her hands to warm it before directing them to the wound. Geralt was met with a burning sensation that spread from his wound to the rest of his chest as soon as her fingers made contact with his skin. He let out a grunt, fighting the spasms of his muscles to allow her to work comfortably. However, the burning was soon replaced by a sensation of pleasant warmth as she uttered an incantation in the ancient tongue. 

He concentrated on the harmonious sound of her voice, letting the words transport him back to that first time they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had been hired by the king to assassinate the beast that had killed the princess. It was said that it prowled the forest after sunset, it was there that the young girl had met her fatal fate. Her love for nature and the long walks under the moonlight was what had ultimately made her an easy prey for that monster. Geralt did not retain the specific details of that story, only what was useful to analyze his enemy. Had he done so, he might have realized that there were strange things in the story that would make any Witcher suspicious. And perhaps then he would not have been so surprised when he found the princess very much alive and well, wandering through the forest alone.

"Please, don't make me go back there." She had begged him after explaining that she had taken advantage of the beast's convenient appearance to escape from her home. "There's nothing waiting for me back there, only a future of unhappiness and subjugation to a man that doesn't respect me."

"I was hired to kill a beast and that's all I intend to do." Was his reply. He was more than ready to continue on his way, to leave her behind to sort out her fate while he dealt with what he had been hired to do, but the princess did not give him the opportunity. She begged for his help to escape from there, she didn't care where he took her as long as he got her as far away from her kingdom as possible. Her escape had not been planned, but a last minute decision that had not allowed her to pack supplies or even steal a horse from the stable. Still, she had been able to travel a fairly long way on foot, but it was evident that she could not continue like this much longer.

"I can't pay you in coin," she told him. "But I can make sure you survive your battle."

Geralt felt sorry for the young woman and was going to help her without asking for anything in return. He really doubted that she had anything valuable to offer him. He was a Witcher, an assassin highly trained in both combat and the arts of magic, tools he used to keep himself alive in the high-risk situations he lived in on a regular basis. However, his mercy proved useful after the battle, when the young princess demonstrated her healing abilities.

His wounds were deep, he was tired and his skin was painted with the reddish sticky liquid that ran through the beast's veins. But still, he was able to crawl to safety where she waited for him with his horse Roach. When she saw him approaching on the horizon she jumped to her feet, hands full of herbs she had gathered in preparation for that moment. Geralt could see nothing but a halo of light in the distance, a figure of hope running towards him with hair flying in the wind as it called his name.

He collapsed against a tree trunk, his breath hitching as the world around him became blurry and dark. He was not unconscious, but neither was he able to process what was happening around him. His memories of that moment were blurry, like a dream slipping from his mind upon awakening. The only thing he remembered clearly was a sweet female voice calling him back to life as soft hands caressed his skin, spreading their comforting warmth inside him.

Geralt had felt peace for the first time in a long while as her hands worked their magic on him, just as he felt at this very moment as her fingers caressed his skin once again. It always happened, her touch alone flooded his insides with peace and tranquility. Maybe that was why he missed her so much, maybe that was why he found himself visiting her for the simplest injuries that even he could heal. Unlike other healers, she was the only one who could calm his tormented soul, the only one who could quiet his thoughts and remove all traces of bitter negativity from his heart. 

"Rest." He heard her whisper in his ear and as much as he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and look at her one more time. Geralt knew he was tired, but only now, in the quiet of her company and wrapped in the warmth of her body, did he realize just how much. 

When he opened his eyes again it was morning. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window touched his face in a warm caress. His pupils were forced to adjust to the light as he opened his eyes, narrowing to almost two slits identical to those of the black cat resting beside him. The animal meowed contentedly as he shifted between the sheets —letting out a grunt of pain at the heaviness of his muscles. He stroked the cat as it purred at him, scratching its head and behind its ears as he knew it liked, before making an effort to get out of bed. His body ached and he still felt tired, but given what he had been through, he was lucky to be alive. 

Geralt heard the sweet sound of the young woman's voice echoing down the hallway like a melodious murmur that filled his heart with joy. It came from the garden, so that was where he went. He found her having a conversation with Roach, brushing the horse's mane while complaining about him to the animal as if it could talk back. They were harmless comments that he knew she didn't mean, though he'd heard them in the past —complaints about his recklessness and lack of responsibility as a horse owner were never lacking. She was especially fond of animals, so she loved to talk to his horse as if he were a human being. She did it with her cat as well, and with any animal that crossed her path. Geralt found it entertaining, though a bit excessive —especially when they traveled together and she made him stop every so often to pet and chat with every rabbit and squirrel in their path.

"What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!" She scolded him as soon as her eyes landed on him. As firm as her gaze was, he could see concern rather than anger or annoyance reflected in them.

"I would have stayed in bed if I hadn't felt the need to come out and defend my good name." He played along, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward in an almost imperceptible movement. "I can't have you filling Roach's head with lies about me."

"They are not lies!" She grumbled, folding her arms in exaggerated annoyance. "You are reckless and you don't give poor Roach enough attention." At her words, the animal thumped its front left paw against the ground as if it understood what she had said and agreed. Geralt huffed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"You already turned her against me." She laughed and it was like music to his ears, a melodious tone that awakened happiness within him. 

"I don't have to, she is a smart creature." She fired back, giving the horse a couple of gentle pets before setting aside what she was doing to focus her attention on him. "But seriously, you need to get back in bed."

"I'm fine." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She looked at him steadily and Geralt knew she thought she looked intimidating, but with the way the light of the rising sun framed her figure and the gentle breeze moving her hair, he saw nothing more than a forest fairy. The most beautiful and innocent fairy he had ever seen. He was tempted to challenge her just to tease her and make her grumble. She looked adorable when she pointed an accusatory finger at him believing that something she did or said could intimidate the Witcher. In the end he decided not to do so and instead accompanied her back into the house, though he did not lie down again, but sat with her at the kitchen table. 

She insisted on preparing breakfast on her own, arguing that he was her guest and that he was badly injured, so Geralt had the opportunity to admire her as she moved about the room, humming under her breath melodies he did not recognize. It made him genuinely happy to see her acting so freely around him, thinking about how far their relationship had come. When he had first met her, she was far from the confident, free spirit she was now. She was quiet and reserved, barely asking him questions from time to time to fill the void of silence and always apologizing for everything.

It was more than mere distrust of a stranger, Geralt could see in her eyes that she was trapped inside herself, a cocoon of fears and insecurities that trapped in its intricate net the beautiful butterfly that lurked within. She would show her true colors from time to time, like when he would catch her talking to Roach when she thought he was sleeping, or when she would make them stop to help a wounded animal. But she always apologized immediately afterwards, as if she realized too late that she had done something wrong, something she wasn't supposed to do. It made Geralt wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she ran away from home. 

He was not a man of many words and was used to traveling alone and in silence, accompanied only by the chirping of birds and the crunching of dry leaves under Roach's hooves, but when it came to her he felt a strange need to hear her speak. Perhaps it was the harmonious tone of her voice, or maybe the fact that he could tell she needed to express herself, but he didn't mind when she rambled absentmindedly as they traveled, putting into words every thought that crossed her mind. 

"I was never meant to be a princess, no matter what my blood says." She had confessed to him one afternoon as they walked through the forest. "The traditions, the politics, the expectations... I was never good at any of that."

"Is that why you ran away?" His question took her by surprise. He barely spoke to her so she assumed he wasn't listening to her most of the time. When she turned to look at him she found his yellow eyes fixed on her, making her feel small under his intense gaze.

"I wanted to be free." She answered honestly. "I refused to live trapped inside a castle for another day, pretending to be someone I'm not, pleasing everybody but myself... I want to forge my own path, build my own destiny. I have no idea what I'm doing or if it will even work, but I owe it to myself to try."

Geralt admired her for that. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew what she didn't want and had had the courage to do something about it. That was why he was so glad things were going well for her. She deserved her freedom, she deserved to have the space to find herself and live her life on her terms. Her bravery had been rewarded.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him as she set a plate of food in front of him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts. 

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Or are you doing that thing you do all the time when you pretend not to need anyone's help?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, proud of herself for knowing him so well. 

Geralt sighed. "I'm a bit sore and tired, but I'll live." He finally confessed.

"That's normal, you were really hurt. I'm amazed that you got here in one piece." 

"You should have seen the other guy." He joked sarcastically and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being serious, Geralt. The poison could have killed you."

"It didn't."

"Only because of your slow heartbeat, but what if next time you don't get so lucky?" The tone of the conversation suddenly changed as they looked into each other's eyes. The familiar heavy tension in the air, making it hard to breathe. 

It was her greatest fear. She feared there would come a day when Geralt's wounds would be so bad that even she wouldn't be able to heal them. She feared it almost as much as never opening the door again and finding him on the other side. The thought of him dying, at home or out on the battlefield, terrified her. She knew it was stupid since he was a Witcher, a being genetically modified to face the greatest dangers, whose purpose in life was to kill monsters. She knew the smart thing to do would have been to get away from him in time, before his absence hurt her as much as it did. She knew there was no point in worrying about someone who had made peace with the idea of dying in battle, but she did it anyway. She couldn't help but fear for his safety the moment he set foot outside her home, worrying until he would eventually show up there again.

"Just... be careful." She muttered after a few seconds of silence, swallowing her emotions as a lump formed in her throat.

Geralt could see the pain in her eyes, the fear and worry shining in them clearly. He felt the need to assure her that he would be all right, but they both knew that was a lie. In his line of work one could never be sure of anything. Things could change very quickly and even he could be surprised with the cold caress of death sooner than expected. The best he could do was to assure her that he would do everything in his power to get back to her.

"I will be." 

That wasn't enough to dissipate the young woman's fears, but it was enough to calm her worries for the moment. Instead of concentrating on things she couldn't control, she chose to turn her attention to the things she could. After breakfast she inspected Geralt's wounds once more to make sure they were healing properly. With the help of her magic and the speed with which the Witcher's body regenerated, the deep gash that adorned his chest was now no more than a scratch. The skin was still red and irritated, but it was in better condition than just a few hours ago. The same with the rest of the cuts and scratches that graced the rest of his body, some of which had already disappeared completely, leaving behind a slightly discolored line on the skin.

She sat beside him as she worked, rubbing a healing paste of her own creation over what was left of his wounds. She focused her energy on him, eyes glued to the skin of his chest as she let her fingers work their magic. She knew it probably wasn't necessary, given the rapid evolution of his cuts they would most likely be practically healed in a couple more hours. But she wanted to do it. She didn't like to see him hurt, even if it was something that happened regularly. He always came to her bruised and bloody, but even then she never got used to seeing him like that. She hated to see him suffer, so when he was with her she would go out of her way to heal all the wounds on his body no matter how small or insignificant. She wanted to make her home a sanctuary for him, a place free of pain and danger where they were safe to be together.

Geralt could feel her energy enveloping him, the warmth her body radiated caressing his skin delicately. The scent of her hair flooded his nostrils, filling his lungs with that sweet floral perfume that was so distinctive to him. It was intoxicating, a drug he couldn't quit. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, enjoying the soft touch of her hands on his chest and shoulders as he admired her work. She was beautiful, like a flower full of color and life that only grew stronger with each of his visits. Her smile, a ray of sunshine that lit up the gray, cloudy sky that was his life. And her eyes... oh her eyes. Geralt could get lost in them for hours, reading in her reflection every little thought that went through her head. To him she was an open book, the most fascinating he had read in a long time.

She became slightly nervous when she looked up and met Geralt's intense gaze fixed on her. They were close, too close to each other for her not to feel intimidated under the watchful admiration of his amber orbs. And yet, she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't help but marvel at the sharp angles of his features, counting the small scars that adorned his skin as her eyes traveled down his face. Those were two traits that people normally found intimidating about him. He had the face of a reckless warrior, a lone wolf with no feelings that augured trouble. But she knew him better than that, she knew the man behind the rumors and knew there was much more to his story and his character. When she looked at him she saw more than the dangerous Witcher. She saw the man who had saved her from her terrible fate, the one she missed and longed for when he was far away, the only man who occupied her thoughts. 

Geralt's eyes strayed to her lips as she caressed them with her tongue. It was an innocent act but he felt it as a temptation, a challenge he had every intention of accepting. He leaned forward, feeling her warm, slightly quickened breath colliding and mingling with his own. He held still for a moment, waiting for her to pull back and move away. When she didn't, Geralt moved a little closer to her until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his. When he looked up one last time, he noticed that she was looking at him with half lidded eyes, completely at his mercy. She was in a trance, lost in the deep amber of his eyes, with no thought in her mind but him. It was the moment they had both been waiting for, the culmination of all the tension that had built up.

But before they could join their lips in the long-awaited kiss, the sound of the cat jumping on top of the table interrupted them. The animal's meow broke the trance and she realized what was about to happen. Embarrassed, she pulled away from Geralt immediately, mumbling something about feeding the cat as she disappeared from his vision. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, still longing to feel her lips on his, but perhaps it was for the best. If he kissed her he would never want to stop or leave again, and he knew that wasn't possible. His place was out there on the road with his horse as his only companion. He was not meant to stay in one place for long, his profession had taken that privilege away from him long ago.

“Your wounds are almost healed.” She stated as she returned to the room, picking up the cat and setting it down off the table. It was an excuse so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye when talking, something to occupy herself so she wouldn't think about what had just happened.

"Guess I'll be leaving tonight then." He was in no hurry to leave, he would gladly stay another week there with her if he could, but he knew that wasn't wise. He could never stay too long with her since he always feared the effects it might have. The more time he spent with her, sharing moments of domestic intimacy, the harder it was for him to get back on the road. The last time he had been there he had ended up running away in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't leave if he had to look her in the eye and say goodbye. And now he feared that nothing had changed, so he had to get out of there before it was too late.

"I would rather you stay one more night and rest here." She said in a soft tone, trying to hide the true meaning behind her words. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. "Your physical wounds might be healing fast but don't forget that you were poisoned and you almost died. Witcher or not, that's a lot." 

"I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but would it kill you to stay here one more night for my own sake? Because if you walk through that door now, I will spend the rest of my days worrying about you until I see you again." She finally worked up the courage to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to listen to her. She knew that if he wanted to leave there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she hoped he would have mercy on her. "I just want to make sure that you're alright."

Geralt couldn't refuse her even if he wanted to, not when she was looking at him with big, bright eyes full of love. Not when her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was afraid he would hear her. He understood the feeling, the fear of admitting what he really felt. But it was easier that way. It was the best thing for both of them. Their lives were incompatible as were their personalities. 

She was a nice sunny summer afternoon and he was a harsh winter night. She was a ray of sunshine that with her warm touch awakened life in everything around her and he was the cold, cruel snow that buried everything under a layer of ice. Maybe that was why he felt this inexplicable attraction to her, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that pulled him to her every time he tried to walk away. Her warmth melted the ice around him, allowing new things to blossom in the fertile soil. Only he didn't know if there was anything left under the ice that could bloom. If so, he had to be careful because her warmth, though pleasant and comforting, could lead to his doom.

Still, he ignored his brain's warnings, giving in to her pleas. They spent the day together and Geralt allowed himself to lose himself in the intimacy and domestic bliss of the moment. He indulged in the fantasy of a life by her side as he admired her dancing around the kitchen while cooking or moving among the plants as she tended to her garden, talking to the squirrels and birds that wandered by. He delighted in the sound of her voice as she called his name and enjoyed her melodious laughter. 

When the sun went down, she lay beside him on the bed, talking nonsense until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She denied being sleepy several times, assuring him that she was just resting her eyes. Geralt snorted, but said nothing, listening intently to the story she was telling him about a deer she had saved from death between masked yawns. She didn't get to finish the story, not consciously at least. She mumbled a couple of almost inaudible gibberish before falling asleep, fighting her last battle against her body's need for rest.

Geralt watched her sleep for a good while, his eyes admiring the peace on her face in the dim candlelight. She had never looked so ethereal, with her hair spread out on the pillow like a halo around her head, and her chest rising and falling slowly with her calm breathing. Her skin was soft under his touch, a stark contrast to the roughness of his fingers bruised from all the fighting and constant use of the sword. She was the most beautiful piece of art, a sculpture carved by the gods themselves. He almost felt unworthy to be by her side, the softness of her features reminding him once again how different they were, how wrong his feelings were. 

He got out of bed with a heavy heart, searching for his things while being very careful not to make a sound so as not to alert her. He couldn't stay there one more night, if he woke up in the morning with her by his side he would never want to leave and he knew very well that it wouldn't end well. So, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her skin as a farewell.

Geralt disappeared into the darkness of the night without leaving any trace of his presence. When she opened her eyes the next morning she was disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She didn't have to leave the room to know he was gone, she could feel his absence in the air. She felt lonely and cold again, already missing the warmth that filled her whenever he was around. Letting out a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair near the door. Her eyes were glued to the wood, her mind filled with thoughts of Geralt. She wondered if he was alright and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. 

And just like that, the cycle continued, his departure leading the way to the stage of uncertainty and worry that grew in her with each passing day as she awaited his return. Her eyes remained glued to the door at all times, her ears attentive to the sounds waiting to hear Roach's footsteps approaching in the distance. She hated this moment. She hated not hearing from Geralt. She hated not being able to hear his low, raspy voice or feel the warmth of his body against hers. She hated the amount of energy she wasted worrying about him. But most of all, she hated knowing that all her suffering would be worth it the moment he came knocking on her door again.

I have more ideas for these two so if you guys like it let me know!

PART 2 HERE

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x female reader #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia angst #geralt of rivia imagine

[lizzieisright]

Moon peppers (1)

were!Abby x witch!reader

Summary: Abby runs away from her (former) pack and into your forest. You're not happy with your new (woods?)mate.

Tags: fantasy au, sloppy worldbuilding (fuck it we ball), fem!reader, alpha!abby, witch!reader (so not an omega), sentient forest, stubborn idiots in love who annoy each other.

A/N: This is basically God of War 2 x Witcher fics (i didn't watch it) x Tolkien x some of my original worldbuilding for my own stories x kinda omeraverse. I have no idea where this is going, but I'm having fun.

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Abby runs. Her speed is fueled by adrenaline and fear. She is hurt and her fur is so red from blood that it's impossible to see her sandy coat at all. Abby is not sure she will survive even if she somehow escapes Isaac and his dogs: she is getting dizzy and tired. 

The Moon shines on her and Abby tries to see any path she can follow and shake Isaac off, but Abby knows the smell of her blood is so prominent nothing will hide her. 

If Abby was in human form she'd have probably given up by now, but she is a wolf now and her instincts push her forward, push her into survival, no matter what it will take. So Abby keeps running through the fields, hearing Isaac’s wolves from every direction as if they're circling her. Abby speeds up, not feeling her wounds, and follows the Moon. 

The Moon shines on the dark tall forest: it looks intimidating. Any other time Abby would avoid this forest because she is not insane, she can feel this forest is not just woods. This forest is alive and will swallow her if she goes inside, but between her former pack trying to tear her apart and slowly getting killed by the forest, Abby chooses the forest. 

She can't be sure it will kill her anyway: nature is odd and has a mind of its own. But her packmates will kill her, there's no doubt.

And all for what? For her standing up for her friends who refused to kill innocent people so their pack would have more resources? Isaac really didn't like hearing his killings and raids are nothing more than cruelty and despotism than any kind of holy war on humans who hate werewolves and want them dead. 

(Humans rarely care as long as you stay human around them and don't go on a rampage.)

So Isaac wanted to make an example out of them. Abby held off while others escaped - she is the strongest in the pack and can take a few wolves at once in the fight - but then she had to escape as well. 

And now she is getting closer to the edge of the woods and her heart is trembling from anxiety. She has no idea what will happen when she crosses the line, but if her pack follows her, the forest won't be kind to them either. 

So Abby takes a deep breath and runs into the forest. 

Inside the forest Abby hears nothing. Well, she hears rustling and can feel the wind, but there is no sign of the outside world. Her ears can't pick up on the footsteps of her pack that were deafening when she ran. No smell of them either, no heartbeats, nothing. As if they just disappeared. It's uncanny and Abby is scared, but nothing comes at her. 

Abby cautiously goes on a trail in front of her - she is not questioning this, this forest is weird - and her tiredness catches up with her. Her paws are barely moving but she pushes herself forward anyway, trusting this place to guide her since it didn't go hostile immediately. Abby looks back just to be sure and yes, the trail is still there, the forest isn't tricking her. 

Her heart is still beating crazy, but she feels safe from the chase and doesn't try to run anymore. The trail leads her to the river which shines strangely - or that what Abby thinks until she sees this is just the Moon reflecting in the water. Abby lies on the shore and laps at the water until her thirst goes away - she doesn't turn into a human, too weak and too scared: the wolf is stronger and heals faster. She feels so tired, she lost so much blood it scares her, she feels like she is very close to death now, but somehow Abby finds some strength to quickly bathe in the river and clean her injuries. 

She is also hungry, but she just can't. Abby sniffs around and catches some damp smell that feels like the inside of the cave and she follows it. There's indeed a den, probably used by a bear before, but the scent of it is so weak it's not coming back. So Abby curls around herself and falls asleep, trying not to think about not waking up ever again. 

The woodpecker starts knocking on the trees and you try to ignore it, but then the sun shines through your window and this is it, no sleep for you. You huff half-heartedly, but you don't mind forest's games. Sometimes they're grumpy and you wake up in a damp hot fog that clots your lungs, so the annoying woodpecker is not bad at all. 

The morning is beautiful: it's quiet, sunny and warm, even though the summer is ending. Probably this is why the woods are in a sweet mood - they're already mourning, which means they're celebrating the beginning of something new. 

This is the last day of the full moon and you plan on collecting some of the flowers that bloom only under the moonlight. It's not your favourite activity, since it's so dark and this forest is living its own life - they don't really care if there is a witch or not and if this witch is alive or not, you're just a passing in their lifetime. 

Useful passing though - you know the woods like you because you keep them clean and healthy when they can't; you keep the passing people from hurting them and the villagers from exploiting them. 

You've lived in the village for a few years before moving here - the call of the forest was too strong, and the times when you'd come to harvest some of the ingredients they wouldn't let you out. At first you thought they were mad at you - but then they saved your ass multiple times from animals (or, in one particular case, a werebear who really wanted to rip your throat out). So you went there for a few nights one time and lied in the bog, trying to connect with them - and they did, and told you they want you to be here. So you stayed, knowing better than arguing with a sentient forest.

The villagers were not super happy about losing their witch to the forest, but you visit them almost every other day, healing people and getting food in return, or clothes or anything which is available to your patients. They rarely come to you - they're wary of the woods, since some people got lost there and some only returned after a week, almost driven mad. The forest is not some kind of god or deity, their mood changes with wind, and by the end of the day, they really don’t care who gets hurt, unless they’re in the mood to save you. Or if they’re in the mood to kill you, then there’s no escape.

You get ready for the day, putting your salves and tinctures in your basket to head out to the village - there's always someone who is hurt and who needs some kind of help. Plus, sometimes it's nice to just be around people - and around your people, since this village is not entirely human. There's a dwarf and an elf who live close by - you have no idea why they're here, especially since the elf comes from an important old family, she is not just a peasant. But you don't ask questions, and they don't ask you questions about your past. 

You leave the forest at noon and walk to the village, enjoying the weather and the sun that warms you. Children see you and run towards you, putting their curious noses into your basket, so you spare some flower milk for them, since this is what they're looking for. They ramble about anyone who needs help and lead you to the houses. It's not a busy day, but you get stuck with an old lady whose back is hurting her. 

“Wow.” You sigh when you feel the knots in her muscles. “What were you doing yesterday? Carrying rocks?”

“My grandson came to play. We ran around a bit, he jumped everywhere, such a naughty darling!” Mari laughs. “I felt like I was a young lass again.”

You chuckle at this and press at her muscles, releasing tension. Mari squeals and twitches in pain, but she is a tough lady, so you keep massaging her with a bit of magic to make her feel better. 

You like lazy days - lazy days mean everyone is okay and you won't have to stand at another funeral: your magic is not some kind of miraculous cure, not for humans, anyway. It doesn't connect with them the way it connects with non-humans, so your help is still limited. 

You go around, giving people some tinctures for the upcoming cold season - children are especially vulnerable during autumn, so you want to prevent their illnesses as best as you can. 

The sun is slowly starting to set when you make it to Vi and Caitlyn’s house: it's on the edge of the village and it's odd. You don't know why, but looking at the clash of elven grace and dwarven coarseness makes you feel funny. It doesn't belong together, but then it does, and you always giggle when you visit them. 

They're an odd pair as well: Caitlyn opens the door, elegant and tall, and hugs you.

“Oh, darling, I hope your day was easy on your heart.” Caitlyn speaks as if she only knows poetry, while...

“Well she doesn't look like shit today.” The short, buff Vi comes into your view and you laugh. 

They don't belong together, but they do, and you can't help the flutter of your heart when you see Caitlyn caress Vi’s head gently, tracing her tattoos with her pretty fingers while Vi flexes her big biceps.  

Caitlyn makes tea for you while Vi takes her special tincture (read: magic booze) from your basket. 

“Best one yet, witch.” Vi smirks and sits next to you and Caitlyn. “Make me a few of them and I'll make you something nice.”

“Deal.” You do need a new dagger, and Vi is an amazing smith. 

It's been a while since you visited them, so you spend the whole evening in their house, catching up, listening to Caitlyn's complaints - which they never sound like, because she is the most graceful person you know - and sharing your own struggles. Vi for the most part works in her workshop, but now and then she'd come and give you her thoughts as well. 

You leave their house when the Moon is full and bright in the sky, and you make your way back to the forest. 

They don't greet you this time, but you don't mind - the mood of the woods is not your business. You cast a spell that will lead you to the moon peppers and follow it carefully: you can see pretty well in the dark, but you don't want to fall with a full basket of elven treats and dwarven booze, and your new tunic from Mari. 

Moon peppers - and they're not, in fact, peppers, they're flowers that look like peppers - are on the other end of the forest, and it takes you some time to finally get there, but you can't help your pleased gasp when you see them. The flowers shine in the moonlight, fully fluorescent - they're beautiful. You look up to the Moon and nod to her for her wonderful work.

You crunch in front of the bush and take your knife out, cutting the beautiful blooms - not only do they look nice, but moon peppers save the moon magic in them forever, and you can use them in truly powerful potions that can help with serious illnesses. 

You cut almost all of the blooms when you hear rustling behind the bush, and you look curiously: usually it would be a hedgehog going on his way. 

Then the bush gets separated in half and you freeze in terror. 

You blink at the wolf. 

The wolf blinks back. 

You scramble to your feet, take your basket and start moving away slowly, not sure of the wolf's intentions. The eyes of the wolf are golden - it's a were - and it snarls at you, baring the sharp teeth. 

Oh fuck no, you think as you swallow. Not fucking again.

The wolf growls and you don't need another cue, you run for your life - you don't know how lucid this werewolf is and you don't want to wait to find out; you have scars from the last encounter with a were and you're not eager to repeat it. 

The wolf chases you, low growling is loud in your ears, but you know these woods and you pray they won't play you now as you run to your hut. Your lungs are on fire, but you only need to make it to the protective circle that the wolf won't be able to cross. The basket is clinking and you somehow make a spell to save the contents when you hear the wolf getting closer.

“Fuck off!” You yell, annoyed and terrified. “Leave me alone, wolf!”

The wolf just growls again and you hear it right behind you, so you send a pulse of magic to trip the wolf. It hurts, why the fuck does it hurt? You don't know and don't care right now, just running as fast as you can. You won't be able to take a werewolf in a fight - haven't been able for quite some time now - but you can slow it down. You hop over the branches like a trained horse, looking ahead and making shortcuts whenever you can, because your home is a long way from the moon peppers and your stamina is nothing compared to the stamina of a werewolf. The wolf however struggles to catch up, and you’re grateful - is it forest helping you or the wolf being stupid doesn’t matter.

You see the hut and speed up, crossing the line of your circle and immediately falling down on the ground, coughing out your own lungs. It takes a few seconds for the wolf to get to you, and it pounces - and even if you know it won't cross the circle, it's terrifying. You close your face instinctively and shriek in fear, but of course, nothing happens: the wolf smacks into the invisible wall and falls down. You use this moment to get up and run to your house, closing the door and casting a few spells just to be sure there's no weak spot in your shields. You walk to the window on your shaking legs, all covered in mud, and you look out. The wolf is circling your shields, growling and scraping the walls with its gigantic paws. It sees you and gets more aggressive, so you move away from the window and sit on the floor. 

You're still panting, and even your shields don't make you feel better - last time the werebear broke them and maimed you until the forest actually intervened and dragged the bear away from you. It was nasty and took so long to heal, but the scarring was minimum - most of the injuries healed without a trace. 

You calm down, your breathing is getting normal again, and you look at your basket with a bunch of moon peppers in it. 

The wolf will not get away with it, you decide. You'll show it who is the boss here.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #moon peppers

[fandomtrumpshate]

Listed fandom fun

A bit of random data before we jump into the rankings for listed fandoms …

Since the numbers post yesterday we've had signups for nearly 60 new auctions, bringing the current total to 779. That beats the number of signups for 2016/7, 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021, and puts us withing spitting distance of our record last year of 819. Can we do it? Will we do it? Signal boost FTH posts and encourage others to participate. More money raised for good causes, more fanworks in the world — it's a win/win!

We posted yesterday about the state of our unlisted write-in fandoms (we've had nine new ones since then!). Time to check in with the rankings for the listed fandoms.

At the top of the pack we have:

87 K-Pop * 66 Good Omens 50 Sherlock Holmes * 44 Harry Potter * 37 Marvel * 32 DC * 31 Mo Dao Zu Shi / The Untamed 27 Red, White, & Royal Blue 25 Star Wars * 23 Scum Villain's Self-Saving System

Our first tie is for 11th place -

22 Avatar The Last Airbender 22 Teen Wolf

And after that, nearly every other place is a tie. And which ones are ties for which places can be shifted slightly with just one signup. Or completely upended with two. Where will your fandom land?

Remember that if your fandom isn't here (or in the rest of the list below the cut), you can write it in. Signups are OPEN through Monday!

19 Supernatural 18 9-1-1 and 9-1-1 Lone Star 18 Locked Tomb Trilogy 18 Stranger Things 17 All for the Game 16 Our Flag Means Death 16 Tolkien * 16 The Witcher 15 Boku no Hiro Akademia (My Hero Academia) 15 Original Work 15 Percy Jackson and the Olympians 14 Baldur's Gate 3 14 Hockey RPF 12 The Old Guard 12 Tian Guan Ci Fu (Heaven Official's Blessing) 11 The Magnus Archives 11 Star Trek * 10 Check Please! 10 Dungeons & Dragons 10 Haikyuu!!! 10 Hazbin Hotel 10 Jujutsu Kaisen 9 A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon 9 One PIece 8 Doctor Who * 8 Hades (video game) 8 Heartstopper 8 James Bond 8 Kingsman 8 Merlin 8 Naruto 8 Suits 7 Dragon Age * 7 Justified 7 Raven Cycle 7 Rusty Quill Gaming Podcast 7 The Sandman 7 Shadowhunters 7 SK8 the Infinity 6 Captive Prince 6 Critical Role 6 Final Fantasy * 6 Fullmetal Alchemist 6 Hannibal 6 Kinnporsche 6 The Maze Runner 6 Queen's Thief 6 Stargate 6 Steven Universe 6 Top Gun Movies 6 Yuri!!! On Ice 5 Alex Rider 5 Grishaverse 5 Interview With The Vampire 5 Malevolent (Podcast) 5 The Murderbot Diaries 5 Nirvana in Fire 5 The Owl House 5 RWBY 4 Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun (The Husky & His White Cat Shizun) 4 Genshin Impact 4 Les Misérables 4 The Magicians 4 Pokemon 4 Witch Hat Atelier 3 Arcane 3 Disney's Descendants 3 Elder Scrolls 3 Hetalia 3 Hunger Games 3 Legend of Zelda 3 Spy x Family 3 Tian Ya Ke / Word of Honor 3 Trigun 3 Welcome to Night Vale 3 Wheel of Time 3 Young Royals 2 Benoit Blanc Mysteries (Knives Out, Glass Onion) 2 Disco Elysium 2 Encanto 2 Gundam Wing 2 The Last of Us 2 Leverage 2 Miraculous Ladybug 2 Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries 2 Mysterious Lotus Casebook 2 Schitt's Creek 2 Super Mario Bros. 1 Assassin's Creed 1 Attack on Titan 1 Diamond no Ace 1 Fire Emblem Three Houses 1 Homestuck 1 Stellar Firma 1 Wednesday / The Addams Family

#fth 2024 #fandom trumps hate #fanworks charity auction #listed fandoms #numbers #signups are OPEN

[hoomhum]

I posted another chapter of this story! Mind the tags and authors notes, but please enjoy! https://archiveofourown.org/works/38739666

#witcher #lambden #laiden #witcher lambert #wolf pack polyamory #omegaverse but weird

[eskel-loves-lilbleater]

Ahhhhh! I did it! I finally finished a short thing I started ages ago. Here's hoping it's not too crap and that it maybe reignites my writing. I have ideas and I have missed it!

It could have been longer but I thought I would stop while I was ahead and actually post it. Would be awesome if I actually manage to write more for it and other things! 💜💜💜

#eskel #the witcher #witcher eskel #witcher #wiedzmin #ao3 #fan fic #short fic #short fiction #kaer morhen life #kaer morhen wolf pack #jaskier is good friend #my writing #eskel & jaskier #eskel & geralt #dragon of kaer morhen

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You’re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

#hopefully this makes your monday a bit better #weekly fic round up #my posts #sw recs #original works recs #stranger things recs #dc recs #dp recs #witcher recs #fic recs

[wthtorke]

(Re)Home

Yautja and Human Smol read with some witcher stuff cause I was into it back then lmao, no warnings! 

-

The Earth had a capacity for life. Only so many people it could house and nurture safely.

Humanity hit that threshold long before you were born.

The peace treaty between species made it possible to live among the stars. Some races were willing to share their planets, while others offered space in their ships.

'It's almost like exchange students, but for life- you'd become one of them.'

You didn't feel at home on Earth. Ever since your first breath, you had no place on that planet.

So up you went. 'Above and beyond,' or whatever they told you. Usually, humans who wanted to leave had forms filled out and uploaded to the exchange system.

If you had to call it anything, you'd describe it as 'adoption'. You, specifically, were adopted by yautjas. The deadliest species in the treaty.

You packed your bags, taking your 'goodbye pack' the government provided you with. Laptop, tablet, and other human things 'so the adaptation wouldn't be so harsh'. That's what the flyer said.

"We wish you luck and success in your new life among the stars. It's an honor to have an earthling as brave as you out there."

That's what the video said.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and pick up the government packs off the floor, walking toward the hangar in your papers. You and some others behind you get in line for admission.

Seeing yautjas wasn't new. There were videos and pictures of them plastered everywhere, just like the other species of the treaty. But still, your eyes widened from their bored expression when you saw your admits standing in front of the ship, datapads in hand.

You're first in line, walking up to them and presenting your registration. They repeat your name and information, and you confirm everything, waiting patiently.

"Welcome to the clan." One of them says, nodding at you. You nod back and make your way inside. The ship is a transport shuttle, spacious and high-tech. This was happening. It takes you a second to choose a seat and strap yourself.

The information speech you're given during the trip feels warmer and more welcoming than anything you've heard on Earth.

'Maybe this was a good decision.' You think.

"From today on, you'll be part of our society, which means no special treatment. No special conditions. No buts and ifs." He keeps talking. "Just life as a yautja in a mothership. That's all."

You appreciated the clarity and honesty they had. You expected it to be hard but weren't afraid of working for it. Whatever challenge presented itself for you, you'd beat it. You had survived this far. This wouldn't be different.

Your group gets taken to the housing levels, where each human gets assigned a room. Your eyebrows rise up when you see two grown yautjas in yours.

"Get up, Fang. Our partner is here."

Fang and Claw. Two youngsters from the clan you got accepted into. Written in bold letters at the end of your papers. "Hey," you say as they approach you at the door. "Good trip?" The other one, Fang, asks.

"Yeah, good trip," you answer. You had no idea they'd be so big. "Are you guys really my age?"

"Are you 124?"

"Oh man."

Despite their scary looks, Fang and Claw are what they are. Young. And a little stupid. You somehow felt at home with them. It was nice to be treated like a person and not a number for once.

You get installed in your bunk bed, pull out your laptop, and test the 'fastest internet connection in the galaxy' they had on the ship. A direct link to Earth, in case you want to talk to anyone.

You just wanted access to the shows.

"What's that necklace?" Claw asks. "What's in it?" You look up from your screen, then down to your chest. "It's a wolf necklace."

"Your previous clan?"

"They don't have clans, just families," Fang replies. Claw frowns in confusion, "So your previous family?"

"No, not my family-"

"That's a wolf- so Wolf clan,"

"Claw-"

"I like it," he continues. You smile at the sheer absurdity of it, "Cool to wear your symbol like that."

You laugh softly, "It's not my symbol- it's from a show, a story- the Witcher. In the story, the Witcher comes from a school whose banner is the wolf. Their symbol is the wolf," You play with the pendant between your fingers, "I don't really have a family."

They both stop to listen to you explain. Claw shakes his head, "But you wear it, so it's your symbol. Wolf human from the Witcher school. A Witcher," the word sounds weird when translated from them, clearly adapted.

"Wolf human," Fang repeats, "Nice title, sounds strong. You should keep it," he says. You huff in amusement. "Sure, I'll keep it,"

They barely return to their own unpacking before you look up again. "We should watch it," they look back at you, "- the Witcher-, we should watch it-, sometime." You clear your throat awkwardly.

"It's a filmed story? Like the ones in the human culture lessons?"

"It's called a 'movie'. Idiot."

"Shut up."

You put your hands up before any growling appears, "It's a series- actually. Short episodes that make up for one long thing. Good to watch in between, ah-, training? Missions? Whatever you guys do?"

Claw nods, "Wolf-human story with the wolf-human, I'm in." You smile and look at Fang. "Is there blood?"

"Lots of it."

"I'm in."

You watch the first season during your first night at the ship, only pausing to retrieve your food and for general discussion between the yautjas about how accurate (or stupid) the fighting scenes in the show were.

You have to plug your laptop into the adapted port on the wall so you can keep binging with your roommates, smiling ear to ear whenever they'd say something positive about it. When you finally close your laptop down, you look at them again. "So, thoughts?"

"Don't fuck with magic," Fang says. Claw nods. "Never fuck with magic."

You laugh as they each settle down in their bunks. Fang shuts the lights off as you lay in the dark for a bit more.

"Sleep well, wolf-human." Claw says. Fang mumbles something in return. You smile again, bidding them goodnight before closing your eyes to sleep.

Home, sweet home. Finally.

---------

Thanks for reading <3 muah muah

more work like this here

#yautja #predator #alien #the predator #yautja/human #human/yautja #headcanon #alien relationship #predators #yautja boyfriend #alien romance #alien x human #alien boyfriend #alien vs predator #predador #aliens vs predator #yautja x human #reader #gender neutral reader too

[inexplicifics]

No Wolf may claim another as pack until after he has passed his Medallion Trial.

Which means Geralt, Eskel, and Gweld just have to survive that long.

#my writing #bloom in winter 'verse

[dreaming-of-lu]

hey, hey, hey, guess what time it is? TIME FOR ANOTHER LINKSONA BABBYYYYY

Meet this asshole. I don't got a hero name for him yet so he's just goin' by "Drac". His is more mixed clash of bloodbourne, castlevania and the witcher. You'll prolly see some similar themes in here.

Info: He's 6ft 8in / 203 cm. A vampire. His timeline is sommeewhere before?? Signal's (in modern terms of era, he's def late 1700s to early/mid 1800s). He's an ass to put it short, stoic upon meeting yet can be very gruff/blunt. A lone wolf that likes to do things his way. Definitely a flirt for sure. He's softie when he grows close to those he consider his family.

Background: Drac/Link was born a vampire, just like his family. He grew up in a village south of the Snowy Peaks that ended up becoming smaller due to a raid from a pack of outlawed werewolves. He, of course, lost his family in the process, save for his little sister and a few of the remaining survivors of said village. It was hard on him growing up without his family, hard to survive since he had to take on the adult mantle too soon. He's trying his best to keep his sister alive, due to the poison from a werewolf bite that was inflicted upon her during the raid.

She remains bedridden or bound to a wheelchair cause of the weakness and agony she feels each time she tries to stand. He hates seeing her so sickly and bound to a room with no freedom to run like she once used to do.

Drac did happen upon the werewolf that killed his family, poisoned his sister and help the others raid his village. The wolf taunted him to which he responds in kind with a longsword impaling the wolf's chest, stripping the wolf bare of it's fur and wearing it to taunt the outlawed.

His Hyrule has become over run with harder monsters and outlaws that it's quite difficult to travel anywhere without being threatened by any of these beings. Of course, the call of a hero is beckoning him forth to answer, drawing him away from his dear sister yet he has no choice but to answer. He's desperate to save her, maybe the princess has an answer.

#.bea's art #.bea's linksona #link oc #linksona #pls do not steal or repost this anywhere