#the witcher sneak peek

[tawnyfool]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴

my sneak peek for @witcher-fanzine, preorders open here: http://witcherfanzine.gumroad.com

#renfri #my art #sneak peek! #witcher #the witcher #witcher zine #fanzine

[zoeysdamn]

Writing is slow (last chapter of the Tyler x reader piece is in progress I pROMISE—) but drawing is gotta go fast ahah sketches goes brrr

Anyway, turns out I'm planning on doing a Witcher-inspired tarot now, have a sneak peek:

*Whisper* those who still read my fics I'm mentally marrying you, I'm not forgetting you my loves

#zoeysdamn art #sneak peek #work in progress #the witcher #the witcher fanart #artists on tumblr

[squirrelno2]

For the anon from this morning, the opening of my one and only Witcher fic, wherein Marilka adopts Geralt whether he likes it or not. (i have no idea if this is relevant or not but i haven't yet made it through season two so like. a lot of this is more informed by the fanworks that came out of season one and maybe a little of the game than any worldbuilding the netflix show did) Someday I'll get to the rest of this but for now have this little snippet:

Marilka should have stayed back. She should have let the crowd rise up in useless defence of her, driven the witcher out, and gone about her petty nothing life in Blaviken until she was grey-haired.

But the witcher – But Geralt had saved her, and then Master Irion who she’d always looked up to had turned on him. Hadn’t he been grateful? Wouldn’t he have been forced to face the Shrike if Geralt hadn’t come?

It was the realisation that she did not matter to Master Irion the way he did to her that carried her out of Blaviken and on the road after Geralt of Rivia.

She had to guess at where he’d gone, but she knew which road he’d taken out of town. With what she could pack while her father looked the other way slung over her shoulder, Marilka scrambled down the road until she saw his white hair glinting in the sun.

“Geralt!” she shouted.

He stiffened in his saddle and glanced over his shoulder. Marilka put on a burst of speed, determined to show him that she wouldn’t stop following. It worked, as he pulled his horse to a stop.

“What are you doing?” he demanded as Marilka reached him, panting.

“Getting the hell out of Blaviken,” she said. “I’m coming with you. I could – I could learn from you.”

“By the sound of things, you know plenty about killing,” he said coldly, turning away. “And I know you’ve seen enough of it, too.”

“Nobody ever taught me how to save someone, though,” she said, grabbing at the horse. The mare twisted, lashing out with her teeth, and Marilka jerked back. She noticed with satisfaction the alarm in Geralt’s eyes as he tugged on his horse’s reins.

“You of all people should have noticed I’m not the one to teach you that,” he said.

“You saved me,” Marilka said. “Master Irion didn’t.”

He tightened his grip on the reins. Slowly, his gaze found hers. Marilka forced herself to meet those haunting yellow eyes unflinchingly. She’d need to be good at that for this to work.

“You were the one who told me to leave.”

Marilka blinked, taken aback. Was that hurt in his tone?

She’d been planning a business transaction, really. An apprenticeship. He’d caught her interest in the first place for what he could tell her.

But now she wondered why he’d humoured her.

“Everyone else would have been happy for you to stay, at least until they could stone you to death,” Marilka said.

He growled under his breath, looking from his horse to the road ahead back to Marilka.

“You’d have to keep up,” he said.

“What, walking? Have you ever actually met a human?” Marilka demanded.

“Roach isn’t magic,” he said irritably. “A horse tires faster carrying two.”

“You’re just hoping I’ll get tired and leave,” she guessed.

“You should,” Geralt told her. “What you saw in Blaviken… it’s not unusual.”

“And I’d see it in Blaviken if I stayed,” Marilka said. She wasn’t one to back down from an idea. “I’ll walk until we can find a horse I can ride.”

He growled under his breath again, but when he started his horse down the road once more and Marilka followed he didn’t say anything to her.

Around midday, Marilka nearly fell on her face into the dusty road. Her feet ached and her sides were sore from the constant walking. She’d never needed to go beyond Blaviken before. She’d never realised just how much of the world lived in between places, or how much work it took to walk there.

“You should go home,” Geralt said, surprising her. She’d honestly expected him to ride on while she picked herself up.

“Too far now,” Marilka said, trying to sound cheerful. She’d made the right choice. It had to be the right choice. “Either you’re stuck with me, or you leave me out here to die.”

She wondered what she’d die of, and if it would be interesting. It was a game she often played with herself, but now memories of the blood in the square and the knife at her throat broke into her mind, teasing her with the very real possibilities.

With a growl, Geralt dismounted his horse and grabbed Marilka by the elbow, pulling her off the side of the road and pushing her towards a rock.

“Sit,” he said. He turned back to his saddlebags. After a moment, he turned around and marched back over to her, dropping something in her lap. Jerky.

“Eat.”

Marilka picked it up hesitantly, watching him. He looked away, over his horse’s back, like he was pretending not to notice what she did.

“You knew the Shrike?” she said. “You liked her, I mean. Saw it in the way you two talked. Like friends.”

“Witchers don’t make friends,” Geralt said.

“So you fucked her, then?” Marilka asked. Geralt choked on air and whipped around to glare at her. The look of outrage reminded her a little of her mother, actually. Marilka tore off a piece of jerky with her teeth to avoid the thought.

“S’what people usually mean when they say they’re not friends,” Marilka said through a mouthful of dry, too-salty meat. She grimaced after she swallowed, moving her tongue around to try and get rid of the tang of the salt. She’d lived through winters, she knew it made things keep, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

“That’s not – I met Renfri the same day I met you,” Geralt said.

“Why did you fight her?” Marilka said. “Pretty obvious you like her more than you like me.”

“She threatened you,” Geralt said. “You think I shouldn’t have fought her?”

Marilka touched the place on her throat where the steel had met her skin, then pulled her hand away when she saw him looking.

“Never heard of anyone choosing a stranger over a friend,” she said, shrugging.

“Maybe that’s why witchers don’t have friends,” Geralt said. “You really should go home.”

“You can’t make me,” Marilka pointed out. “You’d die if you tried, probably. Or get more blood to your name. And if I die, the Shrike died for nothing.”

“Her name was Renfri,” Geralt said, so quick it had to have been an accident. Marilka blinked. She thought about the way he’d plucked that brooch from the woman’s body. Before she could respond, Geralt spoke again.

“I’ll get you somewhere safe. A city. You can find some kind of apprenticeship. Then we’re done.”

Not what Marilka had hoped, but far better than she had expected. No matter what, it meant she was leaving her father and Master Irion and fucking Blaviken far behind her. “Where are we headed?” Marilka asked.

In the first town they came to, Marilka expected Geralt to take off. Instead, he went into the inn with her.

“Two rooms,” he said.

The woman froze as she registered his presence. Marilka stepped closer to Geralt before she even realised it. She knew what most people thought of witchers. The rare times Geralt had spoken to her the last few days, he’d mostly informed her of the reception that awaited him across the Continent.

But this was… worse than she’d been told to expect.

“Get out,” the woman said in a shaking voice. Chairs around the room shifted, and as Marilka glanced around she realised there were more than a few grown men standing stock-still, glaring at them. One by the stairs, two at the door, three more scattered around.

“Just a room for the girl, then,” Geralt said quietly. He shifted, and Marilka was reminded of the square in Blaviken. She took a step back, trying to ignore the memories of bloodied corpses on the ground.

“The one you stole?” the woman snapped, her voice cracking. “I know who you are, witcher. Everyone in town has heard what you did in Blaviken.”

“He didn’t steal me,” Marilka snapped. One of the patrons, a woman, pulled at Marilka’s arm, and she twisted away frantically. More people came forward, trying to tug Marilka away from Geralt.

“We’ll get you safe, love, don’t worry,” the first woman said. Marilka tried to look back at Geralt. Would they take her back to Blaviken? To her father?

“Geralt,” she begged.

“Let her go,” Geralt said.

“What could a witcher want with a child?” one of the people snapped. “What, are you keeping her to kill later?”

Marilka dug her heels in, going limp to slow the woman who had her arms now. When the woman stopped pulling to adjust, Marilka slammed her foot back on the woman’s instep. She shrieked, her grip loosening, and Marilka darted for the door.

She wasn’t leading Geralt into another fight. She wouldn’t cause another bloodbath.

She slammed the door open and pelted down the road. If all those people were so convinced she was in trouble, surely they’d follow her? Marilka didn’t dare glance back to find out. She heard shouts from behind, and that had to be good enough.

But Marilka couldn’t run forever, especially after a long day of travelling on foot. As she reached the outskirts of the town, she left the path and darted for the trees, hoping to find somewhere to hide. She jumped to grab a low-hanging branch, scrabbling for purchase against the twisted tree trunk and pulling herself up. There were hoofbeats coming her way. Marilka swallowed, looking around for something she could use as a weapon. She should have grabbed some rocks.

“Marilka!”

The horse and rider were Roach and Geralt. He looked dishevelled but not hurt, and nothing seemed amiss with Roach. Marilka looked past him towards the road, her heart still in her throat. She could hear shouts still, coming closer.

“Marilka, get down,” Geralt said. “We need to go.”

“I made things worse for you, didn’t I?” she said.

“Marilka,” Geralt said again. He sounded… gentle. She looked down into his eyes.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ll find somewhere that hasn’t heard of Blaviken.”

“And if we don’t?” Marilka asked.

“Then I guess you’re stuck with me,” Geralt said. The townspeople were getting closer, and Geralt glanced over his shoulder. Marilka took a deep breath and scrambled down from the tree. Her hands stung from the bark.

“Come on,” Geralt said, offering her a hand. “It’ll be better if we both ride Roach.”

She accepted his hand. Marilka tried to sit apart from him. After her panic, she didn’t want him to think her a scared child. But sitting awkwardly behind the saddle, it was just easier to hold on to him, and Roach was moving fast enough Marilka was a little afraid she might fall off.

Geralt stiffened at first, but he didn’t push her off. The ride was silent.

“Why not let them send me home?” Marilka asked finally. They’d ridden through the forest and the sun had set. Geralt brought Roach to a stop in a clearing and dismounted before he answered.

“You didn’t want to go,” he said to Roach’s muzzle.

“Thanks,” Marilka said. She slipped down from Roach’s back. Geralt steadied her with a hand on the shoulder, then busied himself caring for Roach like it never happened.

“You remember how to set up camp?” he asked. He looked up. “Sorry it’s not a room.”

“I’m not exactly here to stay in shithole towns that look exactly like the one I left,” Marilka said. She did remember what he’d shown her the past few days, and set about starting a fire. She wasn’t sure, but the look on Geralt’s face might have been a smile.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #marilka #fanfic #snippets and sneak peeks #it's going to be a long ass time before I'm back to this given how much else I'm doing rn but if you want to ask about it please do!

[irrlicht-writes]

Sappy sneak peek!

#writing #fanfiction #the witcher netflix #Jaskier #Radovid #radskier #sneak peek

[angst-fairygodmother]

For the wip game...I'm super interested in your idea for Witcher/Galavant...I have 100% faith that it will be amazing.

So, it's basically just "what if Galavant and The Witcher were the same universe" and it's just like this weird edgy grim-dark neighboring kingdom. I think it was inspired by posts after season 1 about how Galavant would have had so much fun making references to TW the same way it did Game of Thrones.

I love both shows, so I sort of chewed on that for a while and then randomly came up with a conversation, at like 3am when loopy and ridiculous because they should be sleeping, as you do, in which Jaskier and The Jester are having a conversation and the later is in fact actually Jaskier's one true rival, Valdo Marx.

If/when I ever run with the idea, it will be similar to my TUA-characters-go-to-the-Ren-Faire AU, and just be a bunch of very short nonsense chapters with no real point, plot, or continuity.

The best line from what I have though, and really the centerpiece of the idea is:

“I can’t tell if that was an insult or if you just accidentally complimented me, and I don’t care as much as I should because your shoes jingle.”

#Galavant/The Witcher #the crossover event of the century #can you hear Joey Batey saying it? I can hear Joey Batey saying it #wip sneak peek #thanks for the question darling

[geraskefer]

YENNEFER OF VENGERBERG & GERALT OF RIVIA The Witcher: Season Three — Exclusive Sneak Peek

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #yenralt #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #thewitcheredit #witcheredit #geraltedit #yenneferedit #userbecca #userhann #userbbelcher #dailyflicks #chewieblog #userstream #geralt x yennefer #s3 #gifs #*

[yenvengerberg]

YENNEFER OF VENGERBERG The Witcher: Season 3 Episode 1 Sneak Peek

#the witcher #thewitcheredit #the witcher netflix #netflix #yenneferedit #yennefer of vengerberg #witcheredit #witcherladies #thewitchersdaily #witcherdaily #witchersdaily #userava #useravia #ughmerlin #arthurpendragonns #userzoya #ivashkovadrian #userneve #jemmablossom #*gifs #the witcher spoilers

[erualthewild]

Joey Batey as Jaskier in

The Witcher Season 3 trailer and Sneak Peek.

#Joey Batey #Jaskier #The Witcher #The Witcher Season 3 #My Gifs #A bit of Geralt #A bit of Ciri #Henry Cavill #Freya Allan

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Broken Heart

Summary: You were the first and only female Witcher.

You and Geralt had been together since you were teenagers, training and fighting alongside each other for decades. However, when Yennefer of Vengerberg showed up, he chose her.

Now, years later, you go back to Kaer Morhen for the winter and come face to face with Geralt of Rivia, forcing old feelings to resurface once again.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Language, violence

Previous Chapter

Chapter 16-

After sneaking away from Jaskier and Prince Radovid, you fell back asleep in the cabin with Ciri and awoke a few hours later at dawn.

The sun peeked in through the window across the room. The light beaming past the faded yellow curtains and shining directly at you causing you to squint, raising your hand to shield your eyes from the unexpected brightness.

Ciri was still fast asleep on her bed, but Jaskier wasn't in his. Actually, Jaskier wasn't inside the cabin at all. Had he even come back after last night? Was he okay?

You were up and out of the cabin within a blink of an eye, going straight through the woods to the other small cabin where you had left Jaskier and Prince Radovid to make out in privacy. But to your relief, both men were fast asleep on blankets on the floor, cuddled in each other's arms.

You smiled softly staring at the two of them, your fingers unclenching from around the handle of your sword now that you knew that Jaskier was okay and unharmed.

Silently, you snuck away from the two of them, not wanting to wake them before you made your way back to your cabin, but the second you stepped through the door, your blood turned to ice.

Ciri was gone.

"No, no, no, no." You mumbled to yourself, rushing inside and searching high and low, but the young girl was nowhere to be seen.

Shit.

Footsteps crunched on the leaves outside the cabin. Your Witcher hearing picking up the faint noise with ease as the quiet footsteps appeared to come closer and closer.

You ducked behind the open door of the cabin, your sword held up close to your body while you waited for the person outside to enter. The footsteps continued to get closer, whoever was out there was deliberately trying to tread lightly which meant they didn't want to be heard and that only meant trouble.

A few moments later, Prince Radovid waltzed through the front door, his head frantically looking around the room like he was searching for something... or someone.

You stepped out from behind the door and held your sword out until the blade brushed against the side of his neck. He instantly froze where he stood in the middle of the cabin, his body turning tense.

"Turn around. Slowly." You ordered.

Radovid quickly raised his hands in surrender before slowly turning to face you. His wide terrified eyes met yours briefly before he averted his gaze.

"Where is she?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Where is Ciri? Where's my daughter?!" You questioned, raising your voice a little louder than you intended before you adjusted your sword until the tip of the blade was pressed against his throat.

That was the first time you had referred to Ciri as your own, but the word daughter felt true. She might not be yours biologically, hell, you couldn't have your own kid even if you wanted to, not after the Trials. But Ciri was the closest thing to a daughter you have ever had.

She was Geralt’s Child Surprise and she was his daughter now, and yours as well.

"I don't know where she is-" Radovid began to say before you cut him off.

"Don't fucking lie to me. What did you do with her?"

"Ahem." Someone cleared their throat from behind you, but you didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

A look of relief washed over the prince before you, but it was only short lived.

"Jaskier, thank the Gods. This Witcher is threating me. I was just-"

"I know what you were doing." Jaskier said, cutting him off.

"Jaskier, you've got it wrong."

"Oh, I've got it wrong. I'm sorry. Which part?" He slowly walked into the room before pausing by your side, but you kept your eyes on the prince in front of you, your sword unwavering from his neck. "The part where you feigned affection for me, or the part where you tried to kidnap a young woman under my care whilst I slept?"

"It would make everything easier for us if she came to Redania. I'd be out from under Dijkstra's thumb."

"And there it is." Jaskier sighed.

"How can you think my feelings for you are a lie?"

"Because that is who you are, Radovid. At your core." Jaskier began to explain, his voice wavering slightly with emotion as he stepped closer to the prince. "I thought I'd seen through your mask. Turns out there was nothing behind it."

Your heart shattered for Jaskier. The pain and heartbreak thick in his voice, but to your own shock, Radovid had tears rising in his eyes and seemed to be just as heartbroken.

"I'm so sorry." The prince whispered, staring at Jaskier before glancing over the bard’s shoulder and focusing on you. "And I didn't touch your daughter. I truly don't know where she is."

He was telling the truth. You knew he was.

"Get the fuck out of here." You muttered, lowering your sword.

The prince nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes before he dashed past the two of you, heading straight for the door.

"If you so much as hurt a single hair on Jaskier's head again, my sword will be the last thing you ever see. Prince of Redania or not. I don't fucking care." You shouted over your shoulder.

You watched the prince pause in the doorway, his back facing you both as he gave a small nod before he rushed out the cabin, disappearing through the woods and out of sight.

"Jask-" You began to say, turning to face your best friend before he cut you off.

"I'm fine. We need to find Ciri. I'm okay, seriously, Y/N. I'm okay."

The shakiness in his voice and unshed tears shimmering in his eyes would say otherwise, but you didn't call him out on it.

You nodded, "c'mon."

The two of you spent the next 10 minutes searching the surrounding area for the young girl, but there was no sign of her anywhere.

"We should split up. We'll cover more ground." Jaskier suggested breathlessly after running through the woods with you.

"I am not leaving you."

"It'll be quicker. We both know it. Y/N, dear, we have to find Ciri."

You stared at Jaskier for a few seconds, his gentle blue eyes holding your gaze sternly and you sighed.

"Fine. Take this." You instructed, reaching down and pulling out your throwing knife from your boot. "Don't die, yeah?"

Jaskier hesitated a little but took the knife. "I won't die if you don't die, deal?"

You smiled softly, "deal."

Jaskier smirked before he turned and continued his search for Ciri while you jogged off in the opposite direction, shouting the girls name as you ran.

You reached the cliffs along the beach hoping, praying that Ciri was down there somewhere.

Aratuza stood off in the distance, thick, dark smoke wafting out the old building as you stood on the edge of the cliff face, overlooking the golden beach that stretched for miles. A fading fog along the shoreline revealed abandoned boats washed ashore further down the beach towards Aratuza. Alarm bells were ringing in your head as you stared at the wooden boats, but you were too busy scanning the sandy beach for Ciri to notice.

"Y/N!" A desperate, yet familiar voice cried out.

You spun around and let out a shaky sigh of relief when you saw Ciri sprinting down the dirt path towards you.

"Oh, thank God." You whispered to yourself before rushing over to meet her.

Ciri practically threw herself into your arms, your bodies colliding as she hugged you tightly, burying her face into the crook of your neck while you wrapped your arms around her small frame protectively.

"It's okay. I got you, sweetie. I got you." You whispered, hugging her tightly whilst rubbing soothing circles across her back.

"You're alive." She sobbed quietly, pulling away. "I dreamed you and Geralt were gone... and I woke up and-and you were gone."

"Oh, Ciri." You whispered, your hands resting on her shoulders as you held the girl in front of you, hating the tears that were glistening in her eyes. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. But I would never leave you. Never. You know that, right?"

She nodded as a few tears escaped down her cheek and you smiled sadly at her, brushing the tears away with your thumb.

"Thank goodness I found you guys!" Yennefer's voice suddenly shouted.

You both turned around to find the mage jogging over to you, but you knew something was horribly wrong when you noticed Geralt’s sword on her back.

"What happened?" You questioned, getting straight to the point once she finally reached your side, breathing heavily like she had run all the way from Aratuza.

"The war. It's started."

"The war?"

"Yes. The mages, the elves, the kingdom of Redania. Redania want to purge disloyal mages from their ranks. The elves are fighting on behalf of Nilfgaard. It's too much to explain right now, but we need to get Ciri away from this island as fast as possible."

"Yen, what about Geralt?" Ciri asked, beating you to it.

"He'll find us. He always finds us."

"I'm not leaving this island without him or Jaskier." You stated sternly, glancing back over to the edge of the cliff. "I'll escort you back to the ferry and make sure you guys get out of here safely. You take Ciri far from here. Geralt and I will meet up with you after."

"We aren't separating." Ciri argued, but you shook your head.

"This isn't up for debate. This is what's happening." You ordered, looking at Ciri before glancing at Yennefer. "Can I trust you with this?"

"I will protect Ciri with my life. You have my word." Yennefer responded, and as much as you didn't want to, you trusted her.

You gave her a sharp nod before leading them down the dirt path, following the side of the cliff in the direction of the port where the ferry you had arrived on was moored... at least, you hoped it was still there.

The three of you barely walked a mile before the wolf medallion around your neck suddenly started to vibrate against your chest. Your senses went on high alert, the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up and you came to a sudden halt.

"Yen." Was the only warning you could give the other woman.

You drew your sword in an instant and spun around to find a ball of flames soaring through the air directly towards you. Yennefer was quick to react using her magic to block the attack and once the flames cleared, Rience stepped forward with a grin.

Great, this guy again.

Ciri charged at the fire mage without hesitation, and you were quick to join with your own sword. It all happened so fast though because the next thing you knew, there was a ring of fire surrounding you and Ciri. You were trapped.

"Enough!" Rience shouted, glaring at the two of you, his hand raised controlling the fire around you.

He could very easily alight the two of you with those flames, but you knew he wouldn't. You also knew that you needed to keep this fire mage distracted because Geralt was sneaking up behind him and he had absolutely no idea.

"You won't kill them. Your master wants Ciri alive." Yennefer said from somewhere behind you.

"I have no master."

"Yeah? Then who did you kidnap me for?" You questioned, trying to keep him distracted.

Rience turned his attention back towards you and seemed annoyed with your question because the flames circling you and Ciri slowly started to become closer.

"He is not my master." Rience growled.

He.

So, the rogue mage was male. Interesting.

"Then who is he?" You asked, trying to get more details.

Yennefer suddenly threw Geralt’s sword, using her magic to push the sword through the air at a rapid speed. You watched as Geralt caught his sword with ease before slicing the blade through Rience’s neck, cutting the Fire Fuckers head clean off.

"He was nearly going to tell me who his master was." You said, staring at the mages dead body before the circle of flames around you and Ciri suddenly disappeared.

"It's Vilgefortz." Geralt informed, walking over to you. "He's at the centre of all this. He bought both Nilfgaard and the Scoia'tael. They're searching for you, Ciri. We have to get off this island."

Yennefer handed him his sword sheath which he threw over his shoulder but before you could do or say anything else, sudden thunder rumbled in the distance and Yennefer’s body suddenly turned tense.

"Tissaia." She whispered, looking over at Aretuza that was still up in smoke, but was now being surrounded by dark storm clouds.

"What's wrong?" Geralt questioned, following her line of sight in confusion.

"She's summoning Alzur's Thunder."

"The fuck is that?" You questioned bluntly, knowing standing here and talking was wasting precious time.

"A spell of last resort." Ciri answered with wide eyes.

Oh. Shit.

"Go to her. We'll be alright." Ciri insisted, seeming to understand the gravity of the situation better than you or Geralt seemed to. "She has no choice." Ciri explained, glancing over at you and Geralt before focusing back on the mage. "I understand what she means to you. To know she suffers, she fights that she may die."

Yennefer nodded, "I have to do this."

You glanced over at Geralt who had his jaw clenched shut, clearly not liking the idea of splitting up. Yennefer was strong, she was powerful, and you needed her help to protect Ciri. You both knew that, but you also know how much Tissaia meant to the witch, and you couldn't ask her to stay.

"Go. We'll get Ciri away from here. You help your people." You announced, stepping forward and placing your hand on the mages shoulder. "As much as it pains me to say it, we need you. So, try not to die."

Yennefer chuckled softly, "same to you, Y/N." She glanced over at Geralt, giving him a small nod before she turned and ran back towards Aratuza to help her fellow mages.

-

The three of you didn't get a chance to reach the beach before Cahir showed up. Ciri wanted to kill him for everything he had done to her during the attack in Cintra all that time ago.

You and Geralt didn't try to hold her back. She was her own person and you had trained her enough to know that she could take him in a fight, but you stood nearby with your sword ready just in case.

Cahir surrendered though. Dropped to his knees and begged for Ciri to kill him for all the shit he had done, but then the Scoia'tael showed up and he fought them off, giving the three of you a chance to escape.

You made it down to the beach and found an old wooden boat tucked away in a cave. The small boat would be quicker to escape with rather than trying to find the ferry which may or may not even be there.

"Help me move this." Geralt instructed, reaching down to pick up the bow of the boat.

You and Ciri hurriedly reached down to grab the stern when suddenly your Wolf medallion began to vibrate once again. But it was different this time. It was stronger.

"Y/N." Geralt warned, grabbing his own vibrating medallion.

"Yep. I know." You grunted, dropping the boat back down and drawing your sword ready for the next threat.

"Ciri. Go." Geralt ordered, glancing over at the girl.

"I'm not leaving you guys. I can help."

"Never lost, always found. Go."

Ciri looked like she wanted to continue arguing and Geralt gave you a pointed look, silently telling you to get the girl out of here. So, you quickly sheathed your sword and grabbed her arm, pulling her out the cave.

"But I can help. Please. You trained me. You know I can help." Ciri begged, looking up at you before turning back to the entrance of the cave where Geralt still was.

"Ciri. Ciri. Look at me." You instructed, reaching over and cupping the side of her face, forcing her green eyes to meet yours. "Destiny bought us all together. It bought us together and we will be together again."

"But-"

"Geralt and I can't focus on the fight if we're worrying about you, okay? We need to know that you are hidden and safe and once the fight is over, we will find you. I promise, we will find you."

"You promise?" She asked.

"I promise."

Ciri threw her arms around you, giving you a quick hug and you hugged her back, not wanting to let go but knowing you had to.

"I love you. I love you like a daughter. Always know that." You whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"I love you too."

"Now go." You ordered, ending the hug and taking a step back.

The girl nodded, water rising in her bright green eyes, but she took off running down the beach anyway. You sighed with relief before rushing back into the cave that you only just realised seemed to be some kind of manmade structure built into the cave if the cement pillars and walls lining the cave were any indication.

"Know what the hardest part was? Holding back!" A vaguely familiar voice shouted, followed by the sound of metals clinking violently together.

You rounded the corner of the cave just as Geralt deflected a metal staff with his sword. The man he was fighting was using a metal staff. What the fuck?

You stared at the man for a moment, taking in his dark outfit and long hair tied back and suddenly, it all came flooding back.

The man taking vials of your blood. The man injecting you with the sleeping drugs. The man that the little girl had been so afraid of, the man that she knew before she had been kidnapped... it was him.

This was Vilgefortz. 

-

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

Commissions open! Link in bio

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia fanfic #geralt of rivia fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #henry cavill #jaskier #joey batey

[popjunkie42]

Gifts for WitchlingsandWyverns!

From your ACOTAR Secret Santa! @witchlingsandwyverns

I have had so much fun working on a story for you and getting to send you gifts and sneak peeks over the past few weeks! I have always loved your art and creativity and I really hope I can give you something you'll enjoy this holiday season.

I got inspired early on to lean into the fantasy and do a sort-of Lord of the Rings AU. This story takes place during the war 500 years before ACOTAR against the human slave lands and the human-faerie alliance. I imagine Feyre as a Spring fae, and she and Rhysand meet for the first time in the Dawn Palace's House of Healing. I was inspired by one of my all-time favorite fantasy couples, Eowyn and Faramir.

Blossoming in Winter - Chapter 1: Under the Wings of the Shadow (on AO3, the first part of Chapter 1 below) and tagging @acotargiftexchange

A million thanks to @witch-and-her-witcher and @temperedink for being my amazing beta readers!

Your story is mostly complete and will be four chapters long. I hope to publish every few days up until Christmas, but be patient with me if the final edits take a bit longer!

I've had so much fun being your secret gift giver and learning more about you! I hope you have an amazing birthday, and holiday season, and that you enjoy all the ACOTAR riches coming our way!

Love,

PopJunkie42

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

To Thesan, High Lord of Dawn and Commander of the Peregryn Legions:

Esteemed High Lord,

It is with great thanks and humility I write to you on behalf of Lord Tamlin, third son of Spring.

The Peregryn legion you sent to our aid was invaluable in our victory on the coast of the western Spring lands.Through whatever grand insight you possess, they arrived in the knick of time, as our armies were on the verge of being overwhelmed. The turn of the tide led to a grand victory on the side of Prythian. Though casualties were great, the land has been held successfully by our warband and will, we believe, provide strategic ground for both monitoring Hybern’s forces and maintaining a foothold on the shore, to prevent further ships and troops from docking in Prythian and adding to our troubles. 

Indeed, if you’ll forgive me for my storytelling, I can tell you the sight of feathered wings will forever bring a surge of joy to the hearts of the Spring warriors, and the tales of the Peregryn’s bravery will long be told in our lands and at our tables. The legion’s arrival at dawn after the long night siege, the rising sun at their backs, was the stuff of grand tales, and seemed to us a blessing from the Cauldron and the Mother. Lord Tamlin (and myself) sincerely hope that his future court and the Dawn Court may remember this great victory and the strength of our combined partnership in the days and years to come. 

Lord Tamlin wishes greatly to speak with you and the other High Lords further, once battles have ceased and Prythian is free of the stain of Hybern, about the future of our illustrious court and the question of leadership therein. Though the Prince has always valued the leadership of his father and wisdom of his brothers, their choice to ally with the King of Hybern shows their loyalties and interests lie outside of Prythian. After this war is won, Prince Tamlin wishes only to treat with those loyal to the lands of Prythian.

Though I write to thank you for your great kindness, I also am afraid I must use this letter to beg another courtesy. It has been heard that your illustrious Court has opened its doors to the High Lord’s families and those in greatest need of healing, to be blessed by the grand bounty of your powers and knowledge. It is with this in mind that Lord Tamlin humbly asks you to take in another patient: Lady Feyre Archeron, an archer in his personal guard.

Although Lady Feyre boasts no direct relation to the High Lords, perhaps word of her bravery has already reached your lands. For it was Lady Feyre who dared to enter the Middle and defeat the fearsome Sylvanus, the forest god, the last of the old gods walking among us. We know that all the High Lords and generals have knowledge of this beast, as he has split the land in two and his wrath and magic had prevented the joining of the northern and southern armies in our long-standing war. Although rumored to be immortal and impervious to death, even by the hand of a High Lord, the monster was single-handedly defeated by Lady Feyre. We have no doubt that her name will long be known throughout Prythian, and the grand tale of her conquest will be the subject of songs and poems. Perhaps if taken under your healers, you will get the entire story firsthand from her, as she has not spoken of it since returning to Spring. Such a tale would be the envy of the land, and certainly of your neighbors in Day.

Lady Feyre, though brave and strong, returned to the Spring Court wounded by the deep magic of the god. Her spirits fail her, and her body withers under wounds our healers cannot touch. Lord Tamlin beseeches you and your healers to care for her with your powerful magic, as her hurts go beyond the body and perhaps into the soul.

With much gratitude and hope in battle,

Lucien, Emissary of Spring

on behalf of Prince Tamlin, the rightful heir

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Please, Lady Feyre…”

The warden of the healing wing scuttled behind the female, her steps brisk, his own faltering as he rushed in his voluminous robes.

But both came to a pause in front of the wooden door, one of many in the hall of healing. A cold fog of darkness, whirling and flecked with stars, was pouring from the crack at the bottom.

Feyre Archeron, her face pale and jaw set, looked upon the tendrils of darkness now lapping at her feet. With a deep breath, she knocked loudly and opened the door.

She did not pause at the wave of cold night that washed over her at the threshold, nor at the brisk “What?” bitten out by the occupant. She only paused when the shadows cleared and she saw the patient clearly.

The Prince of Night sat up in bed, framed by outstretched, massive black wings. The span of wings was echoed in swirling black tattoos on his expansive bare chest, split by a wound covered in bandages across his shoulder.  His face was fine, if a bit wan, and adorned by a vicious frown. His eyes quickly snapped to Feyre as she stood in the door. But it was the wings, gleaming iridescent in the light, that took her breath. It looked as if he sat upon a throne ensconced by those vicious and beautiful tokens of death.

At least, it did at first. Now that she took a breath she noticed the way his wings were scaffolded by light fabric tethers and a framework of wooden dowels. Covered in bandages and oily with salves whose scent filled the room and her nose. Blood, too, dripped to the floor and across his white silken sheets, and bled through the starched bandages. She saw gashes and holes in the thin membrane of his wings, the skin raw and irritated and covered in healing ointments.

Just like that, her determination wavered at the sight of his injuries. She had spent enough time in Spring’s healing tents to know his wounds were fresh, and to recognize his pallor and sheen of sweat upon his brow as tokens of his pain. 

Feyre realized she had been frozen on the threshold of the room, staring at his wings. Dropping her eyes, she met the menacing stare of the son of Night.

The warden bustled past her and into the room, bowing deeply at the waist.

“Apologies, my Lord. She…”

“I thought I ordered you to let me remain undisturbed,” the Prince bit out, his voice hard and impatient.

“Yes, my Lord, but -“

“Are you Rhysand? Prince of the Hewn City and son to the High Lord of the Night Court?” Feyre asked.

The Prince’s eyes were upon her again, glowing in the dim light of the room. “I am.”

“Good. I’ve been looking for you.”

“And to whom do I owe this unwanted disturbance to my peaceful convalescence?”

Feyre swallowed. This was not going as she had planned, if she had a plan at all. She was the one who was angry, she was the one with demands.

“Well?”

“I am Feyre.”

“Well, that explains everything.” Her face turned to a scowl as his eyes roamed over her body, full of haughty judgment. A pang of embarrassment, and then anger tore through her as she considered her rumpled tunic, cut and tied to fit around her bandaged arm, her plain pants, her weather-stained leather boots.

Before the warden could start his bumbling apologies again, Feyre forged ahead.

“I am being kept here against my will. I wish to leave. And the warden,” she looked to him with what she hoped was utmost disdain, “told me you were the highest ranking fae here, while the High Lord of Dawn is away.”

Rhysand laughed. It was a bitter sound.

“Do I look like I am giving orders here?” he asked, spreading his arms against his outstretched wings. “Do I look like a lord of Dawn? I am as much a prisoner as you. Moreso, as I’m being kept in chains.”

The warden stood straighter as Feyre clenched her jaw. With High Lord Thesan gone for what could be the end of the war, and the nurses’ endless vigil in front of her door, she had no means of escape.

From his bed, Prince Rhysand sighed. She watched him wince slightly at the movement of his shoulders.

“And why would you want to be released from this gentle hall of healing? You look as if you’re in need of it’s services,” he said, his eyes again on her body.

She knew what he was seeing. Had seen it herself in the glass this morning, before she tilted it away from her bed in dismay at the grayish pallor of her face, her skin papery and thin, the blue veins beneath giving her a sickly hue. Her eyes had charted the scratches on the left side of her face and neck that refused to heal, stark red slashes on her skin.

Of her arm, bandaged and tied closely to her chest. Only her pale fingers, chalky white and withered, gave any hint as to what lay underneath.

“I wish to return to battle,” Feyre said, willing confidence and command into her tone. Surely a High Lord’s son couldn’t deny the war one more willing soldier. “I did not wish to be sent here and I do not wish to waste time waiting to heal. I only wish to fight.”

“Why do you not wish to be healed? A wounded warrior is of little use on a battlefield. And haven’t you heard that we all talk of victory and peace now?”

Feyre lifted her chin high, poured all of the confidence and pride she could muster into her face. Thought of Lucien, of Tamlin addressing his armies.

“I am an archer in Lord Tamlin’s personal guard. And battle is where I belong.”

The prince regarded her further. His anger had softened and the blackness swirling about the room had dissipated to soft shadows. He tilted his head. “Again, an archer who cannot use her bow isn’t much use to an army.”

“I have other skills to use, my lord,” she said, the last words dripping with ire. “Not everything heals. And I do not fear our enemies nor death on a battlefield. Indeed, to die in battle is an honor, is it not?” She wished desperately for him to heed her words. Every hour she felt the final battle rushing further away from her, like the ships traveling swiftly across the sea. Surely, a High Lord’s son would not deny the war another willing soldier.

Prince Rhysand swallowed. “An honor?” he laughed, low and dark, the sound pulsing across her skin. “I suppose it is. Certainly those bleeding on Prythian’s fields no longer have to face the horrors of what we have done or what will come next. Is that what you wish for, Lady Feyre?”

Feyre bristled at his tone. Whatever future waited for Prythian had little to do with her now. “I am a warrior pledged to battle, and the battle still goes on, and yet I am here.”

She wasn’t sure what it was, now, that look on his face. Silence filled the room.

“Well, Lady Feyre,” she chafed again at the term. No matter that she had explained to her nurses that she was not a lady, the epithet had followed her through the halls. “Whether it was the Cauldron, the Mother, or the old gods, our lives have been spared. And, as I have explained to you, I have no authority here in the halls of the Dawn Court. Even if I would grant you my blessing to send you to your death, the sentiment is meaningless here. So I am afraid we both will remain imprisoned, and live to see another glorious day.”

Feyre took in a deep breath through her nose. A second.

“Then you will not help me?” Rhysand wore a frown.

“Not in this.”

“Fine. Apologies for disturbing you, my lord.” she said, and turned on a clipped heel out the door.

Read the rest on AO3

#acotar #feysand #rhysand #feyre #acotar fanfiction #acotar gift exchange 2023 #lord of the rings AU

[cosmos-coma]

Our furnace is broken and I am covering myself in blankets to help get warm, can you write something about snuggling for warmth with Eskel on those cold Kaer Morhen nights

Winters Cold Embrace

A/N: I hope your furnace gets fixed soon! its a short funny little thing that I hope makes you at least chuckle

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words:~430

Warnings: Language

____________________

The fall had been fine, it was chilly but not too cold- more crisp than anything. But now it was full-blown winter in the keep and right now it fucking sucked. 

The keep was already old and falling apart, but the past few days have been putting it to the test. It's been snowing light flakes of and on, but the real heavy hitter was the wind. It was bitterly cold and was working at widening the cracks of the keep and it slipped into every nook and cranny. 

“F-F-Fu-FUCK, it’s cold as Lebioda’s balls in here… maybe? He might have been a eunuch…” you rambled out from beneath your pile of blankets- peeking out from a little fold just big enough to see through. 

Eskel laughed as he came into view, peeking into the little eye slot you had made. “He definitely was not.” 

“What? Did you know him personally?” you asked peeking your head further out of the blankets to see the warm food he carried. You made quick work of sneaking your arm out and grabbing one of the sandwiches he had on the plate. 

“No, but I feel like it would’ve been mentioned a bit more if he was.” Your witcher commented with a residual chuckle. “Now, can I get in on the cocoon? Even witchers get cold…” He said and began unwrapping your layers of blankets. 

“Please join me,  you’re my personal space heater…” you said through a mouthful of sandwich as you shifted over to make room.

“Gods, you just never stop being sexy, huh?” He grinned and climbed into the space you'd made for him, quickly pulling you to his lap. 

You laughed and wiped your mouth, curling into the radiant heat that was just rolling off his body. A content hum rumbled in your chest as his arms wrapped around you and pulled the blankets back into their proper place. 

“On a positive note-” he started, changing subjects, “- Vesemir is mixing up a big batch of mortar  right now, and when it's ready my brothers and I will go and patch up some of the cracks- starting with the rooms.”

“Oh, I’ve never loved you more…” You said with a sigh of relief as you pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you so much for taking care of me. I guess I don’t do the cold too well…“ you said with a slight frown to your expression. 

His large hand rubbed warmth into your side and drew you ever closer. “Of course…. I’ll always be here, warmth or cold”.

_________________

Taglist: @open--till--midnight @writingmysanity @dark-academia-slut

#lmao whoops i forgot to title it the first time #its a little short but hey #also please send more requests and distract me from having to finish prey of the hunt lol #witcher eskel #eskel #eskel fluff #eskel x reader #eskel x you #eskel x y/n #eskel imagine #the witcher #the witcher 3 #tw3 eskel

[newsintheshell]

NETFLIX DROP 01: TRAILER, ANNUNCI E ANTEPRIME DEL NUOVO EVENTO ONLINE

Devil May Cry, Tomb Raider e Blue Eye Samurai fra le grandi soprese arrivate durante la premiere live di Castlevania Nocturne!

Ve lo avevo anticipato e non poteva quindi farsi attendere il riassuntone del primo DROP 01 di Netflix, lo speciale evento virtuale in diretta streaming su YouTube e Twitch, imbastito per unire il watch party in anteprima di Castlevania: Nocturne e qualche breve ma gustoso sneak peek di alcune novità, lato animazione, attualmente in cantiere.

Purtroppo riguardo a Pluto siamo stati scammati, non hanno fatto vedere nulla di nuovo. Hanno semplicemente ripassato il trailer spaccamascella uscito un paio di mesi fa.

Tutto sommato, però, è stata un'ora e mezza piacevole, fra episodi - che non sono riuscito a seguire al verso, se non a spezzoni ahimè - e brevi teaser e showcase di merchandise vari. Un evento dal formato leggero, informale e conciso, che mi piacerebbe si ripetesse sinceramente.

Capisco che eventi più corposi come la Geeked Week e TUDUM siano maggiormente attesi in generale, ma le presentazioni in pillole, a mio modo di vedere, sono decisamente più fruibili e, appunto, più efficaci.

🔶🔸DEVIL MAY CRY

Cominciamo con un primo annuncio MOTIVAZIONALE (*wink wink*). Dante, Vergil e Lady di nuovo in versione animata, 8 episodi, più stagioni in programma.

La sceneggiatura è stata concepita da Adi Shankar (Castlevania) and Alex Larsen (Yasuke), mentre il tutto porta la firma di STUDIO MIR (The Legend of Korra, Dota: Dragon's Blood, The Witcher: Nightmare of the Wolf).

🔶🔸SONIC PRIME

Mostrato un teaser che annuncia una terza stagione per la serie con protagonista il celebre riccio di SEGA. Ad un'occhiata da profano, ha tutta l'aria di una grandissima cutscene, ma non sembra male.

Non sono però mai stato un fan di Sonic, quindi skipponi. Go next.

🔶🔸CAPTAIN LASERHAWK: A BLOOD DRAGON REMIX

Altra produzione targata Adi Shankar, questa volta in mano allo studio BOBBYPILLS, che la chat di Twitch ha subito categorizzato come Suicide Squad made in Ubisoft e la chat di Twitch ha sempre ragione :v

Fra ultraviolenza in stile retro anni '90 e ironia, questo spinoff dello spinoff di Far Cry 3 (ci hanno infilato pure Rayman!!) sembra vare le carte in regola per rivelarsi una visione divertente. Il trailer ci dà appuntamento per il 19 ottobre.

🔶🔸BLUE EYE SAMURAI

A quanto pare questo progetto era inizialmente comparso per la prima volta nel 2020, ma me lo devo essere perso.

Nata da un'idea dei coniugi Amber Noizumi e Micheal Green (Logan, Blade Runner 2049), è stata sostanzialmente presentata come una "storia di vendetta nel periodo Edo - Kill Bill incontra Yentl".

Come biglietto da visita è intrigante, ma ammetto che la trama di base mi ha lasciato con qualche dubbio. In sostanza, la nostra protagonista in cerca di vendetta, è una meticcia con gli occhi azzurri e per questo viene discriminata e trattata come una "creatura della vergogna". Le frontiere del Giappone sono ancora chiuse e razzismo e misoginia sono di casa, quindi che fare? Ci si traveste da uomo e si va a sbudellare gaijin finché non si trova quello che è tuo padre, l'occidentale che ti ha resa diverss e reietta dalla nascita. Ok...?

La serie, che arriverà in streaming il 3 novembre, a livello tecnico e di atmosfera si presenta molto bene comunque, quindi vedremo. Giudicate voi, ecco il treailer.

🔶🔸SCOTT PILGRIM

Non ce la fate ad aspettare il 17 novembre per vedere la versione animata, in stile SCIENCE SARU (The Tatami Time Machine Blues, The Heike Story), del famoso fumetto di Bryan Lee O'Malley? Eccovi una clip in anteprima allora.

🔶🔸MASTERS OF THE UNIVERSE: REVOLUTION

Clip in anteprima anche per la nuova serie di He-Man e i Dominatori dell'Universo, che approderà sulla piattaforma nel 2024.

Pu confermando una vaga continuità con gli eventi della divisiva Masters of the Universe: Revelation, la serie è stata presentata ufficialmente come standalone, suggerendo un qualche tipo di correzione di rotta riguardo alla narrativa.

🔶🔸TOMB RAIDER: THE LEGEND OF LARA CROFT

E dulcis in fundo, anche sul gran finale abbiamo chiuso con il botto, con l'adattamento animato di un'altra storica icona videoludica: Lara Croft!

Preannunciata un paio di anni fa, ma anche qua io non ne ho alcun ricordo, la serie si ispira alla trilogia reboot di Crystal Dynamics (Tomb Raider, Rise of the Tomb Raider e Shadow of the Tomb Raider).

In programma per il 2024, è prodotta in casa Powerhouse Animation (Castlevania, Masters of the Universe: Revelation).

Per chi si fosse perso la premiere in anteprima e volesse comunque un assaggino di Castlevania: Nocturne, nel mentre aspetta di poter maratonare la prima stagione (vi ricordo che esce domani by the way), ecco i primi sette minuti della prima puntata in omaggio.

Quel poco che sono riuscito a vedere, non mi è dispiaciuto affatto, ma la sensazione che ho avuto è stata quella di una serie molto introduttiva, con in mente un arco narrativo da sviluppare potenzialmente su più stagioni e che quindi potrebbe risultare un po' lentina e all'acqua di rose. Per ora mi mantengo curioso.

⫸ NON VUOI PERDERTI NEANCHE UN POST? ENTRA NEL CANALE TELEGRAM!⫷

Autore: SilenziO))) Se usate Twitter, mi trovate lì! 

blogger // anime enthusiast // twitch addict // unorthodox blackster - synthwave lover // penniless gamer // INFJ-T magus

[FONTE]

#netflix #drop 01 #netflixdrop01 #anime #cartoni animati #animazione #trailer #teaser #annunci #tomb raider #lara croft #devil may cry #dmc #captain laserhawk #ubisoft #capcom #masters of the universe #he man #masters of the universe revolution #scott pilgrim #blue eye samurai #sonic prime #videogame #anteprima #far cry #sonic #Youtube

[witchyadams]

🙆🏻‍♀️About me🙆🏻‍♀️

Hey there, lovely internet dwellers! 🌟 I'm Jenny, a 26-year-old aficionado of all things media and a certified nerd extraordinaire. Whether I'm untangling enigmatic plots or crushing it in League of Legends, I live for diving headfirst into immersive worlds! Here's a sneak peek into what makes me tick:

Favorites:

🎮 Games: The Witcher, League of Legends, TFT, Minecraft, Zelda, Animal Crossing, Mario Kart, ESO, BioShock

📺 Shows: Mindhunter, Community, Ted Lasso, Fleabag, South Park, The Boys, Supernatural, Spongebob (seasons 1-3)

🎬 Movies: Any David Fincher Movie, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, Scream (1-3), Jojo Rabbit, Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Quentin Tarantino Movies

🎌 Anime: Death Note, Another, Assassination Classroom, Your Name, One Piece, Studio Ghibli movies

Oh, and did I mention I'm a huge animal lover? 🐾 There's nothing quite like the joy of cuddling up with a furry friend after a long day of gaming and binge-watching.Just diving into the world of cosplay and working hard to level up my skills! 💪 Check out my latest creations and 🌶️ content on various platforms!

🔗All my links🔗

#cosplay girls #about myself #sexy nerd #gamergirl

[tpchicken7]

Thinking more about the season 3 timeline:

is the sneak peek from episode one? Like are we actually going to watch Geralt, Yenn, Ciri, Jaskier and the dwarves come down the mountain? And if so, does that mean the dwarves were at the Keep during s2ep8? Where???? Like could they hear the battle and we’re like, “nah, I’m sure it’s fine.”

And if this is episode 1, where did Jaskier get the lute? Did the witchers just have one lying around? And if he already has a lute episode 1, where to the scenes from Blood Origin fit in?

I am confused. Are we going to see Jaskier leave the group, maybe to go with the elves? Does he then get captured by humans? Do the elves save him again? How is he getting back to Oxenfurt to deal with Phillipa?

Congrats, we have entered the moment where I’m trying to piece together the drama and failing. 😆

#witcher speculation #jaskier #blood origin #timeline thoughts #it just doesn’t make sense yet #And there’s a 64% chance that the blood origin scenes won’t fit in anywhere #Because this is how they roll #I can’t believe the dwarves wouldn’t hear a fight going on and not get in on the action. #Probably could’ve saved Witcher lives. #Not sayin’ #Just sayin’

[cssns]

CSSNS Get to Know Me!

Welcome back to @hollyethecurious​ !

How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?

I watched the show faithfully each week since the pilot aired, but didn't join the fandom until S5

When did you start shipping Captain Swan?

When Emma held that knife against Killian's throat

What drew you to this event?

My bestie Krystal and her impeccable enabling skills

What inspired your topic?

The Law of Surprise from The Witcher, but this is not a Witcher fic.

If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.

King David lifted his sword and repositioned it to Killian’s other shoulder. “Then in addition to accepting your allegiance, and in accordance with the practices and traditions of this land, I not only recognize your selfless bravery in saving my life, but offer you a boon in addition to my gratitude.”

Killian’s brows pinched together and he felt the tips of ears go red. Other than the Queen’s remarks after he’d regained consciousness, nothing more had ever been mentioned regarding his actions that day in battle. He had simply been doing his duty; never would he have imagined a public ceremony, much less a boon.

“It gives me great pleasure to bestow upon you…” the King continued, his Adam’s apple jumping as he swallowed hard. “The Law of Surprise.”

A flurry of murmurs erupted throughout the throne room. Killian’s lips parted in shock and his brother had to assist him back to standing.

The Law of Surprise. A windfall whose nature is unknown to the parties involved. Whatever treasure or lands or blessing the King had yet to become aware of, but destiny had already designed for him, would actually be Killian’s to claim, the value of which could be innumerable.

Vaguely, Killian was aware of the order that the hall be cleared as the King offered the lieutenant his hand. Accepting the gesture, he managed to croak out a quiet ‘thank you’.

“No. Thank you,” Queen Snow replied warmly, having joined the men from the dais. “Both of you. This Kingdom is forever in your debt.”

“And I am in yours,” King David declared, releasing Killian hands. “Until the Law of Surprise is fulfilled. So…” Reaching into his robes, the King produced a scroll, sealed with the Sovereign stamp. Handing it over to Liam, he continued, “Take all precautions to keep yourselves safe during this mission the Queen and I am tasking you with. These orders are to be kept under seal until you are ready to depart from our shores. We cannot risk anyone finding out.”

“I understand, Your Majesty,” Laim replied, taking the scroll and giving a reverential bow of his head. “Come, little brother,” Liam prompted, slapping Killian on the back. “We have our orders and must ready the Jewel.”

Killian stumbled, his body slow to obey, still too overcome by what had transpired. Bowing to their Majesties, Killian was about to follow his brother out of the hall when the Queen surprised him once again by throwing her arms around him and giving him a tight hug. Words seemed to get caught in her throat for a moment, and Killian sensed there was something she wished to say, but then thought better of it.

When she finally pulled away, she took his hand in hers and imparted, “Take care of one another and return home as quickly as you can.”

“Aye,” Killian answered with one last nod of his head. “Until we meet again, Your Majesty.”

For our artists: What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like.

I do picsets and moodboard

What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?

Dragging the muse out of her hiatus. She's rested long enough!

Yes, she has @hollyethecurious​ ! We’re looking forward to what you and your muse have in store for us on July 27th!

#GTKM #cssns23 #hollyethecurious #gtkm interview

[curls-cat]

trick or treat! 🎃🦇👻

you get a sneak peek at a WIP! Geralt teaching Jaskier to swim:

True to his word, the next morning, Geralt drags Jaskier back to the lake. He hasn’t bothered to get their things out of the inn, because their clothes are still wet, and he predicts Jaskier is going to make a fuss about getting dry and a hot meal later. “Strip,” he says. Jaskier makes a face. “Geralt, it’s cold.” “Strip or go in with your clothes on,” Geralt says, shoving Jaskier in the direction of the lake. “Fine,” Jaskier mutters. “Tyrant.” He starts undoing the tiny buttons of his doublet. Once he’s naked, he says, “Are you sure this is necessary? I really think—” Geralt shoves him in the water. Jaskier drops with a splash, and comes up spluttering. “You bastard!” he cries, flailing. “It’s cold!” Geralt dives in after Jaskier. He’s not what he’d call graceful, but he’s a passably good swimmer.  When he surfaces, Jaskier splashes him grumpily. “I hate you,” he grumbles. “When we get back to the inn, I’m taking my coat back.” “You’re swimming,” Geralt points out. It’s not exactly true. Jaskier is flailing and splashing, but he’s keeping his head above water, which is an acceptable start. “Cruel Witcher,” Jaskier says. “Cruel. Mean.” “C’mon,” Geralt says, and starts doing a simple breast stroke. “Like this.” Jaskier rolls his eyes, but he starts copying Geralt.

#trick or treat