thefoxwitcher

[thefoxwitcher]

Desire:”Welcome to the”Fuck Morpheus Club” where every week we say fuck you to Morpheus”

Hob,visibly sweating:”There’s been a misunderstanding”

[thefoxwitcher]

Part 6 - The Widow Witcher Takes a Walk

**Hi! So, I’m returning to my Eskel series. I hope everyone likes where it’s been going so far!

They couldn’t look at her head-on for the first few days. Shame would be plastered on their faces as if they had each taken turns carving up her skin. Vesemir hardly looked at her, but he was too busy bustling around that old potions room of his, muttering about old curses and “the woman.” Priscilla would have offered three guesses to anyone as to who the woman was. But the more they refused to look at her, the angrier she got. She’d already been mutilated, now it was like she was losing a family all over again. The anger and tension came to a head roughly a week later. Priscilla was serving stew to the witchers, none of them meeting her eyes despite her intense staring. When she got to Lambert, who hadn’t made a single joke at her expense since she’d come back, she felt a boiling rage come over her. His whole body jerked when she shoved the bowl of stew away from him, sending it tumbling to the floor.

“Look at me!” When he refused, she grabbed him by his face and jerked his head to look at her, “Look at me, Lambert!” His eyes widened at the sight of her freshly healed scars. The poultice Vesemir made had done wonders in regards to the healing process, her scars now a dull pink color. Lambert stared at the scars jaggedly running down her face and neck, disappearing into her chemise. He was at a loss for words and quickly looked down.

“Pris,” His voice was sad and pleading, “I’m sorry.” Priscilla huffed, slamming the ladle down, and turned on her heels and angrily left the room. Lambert stood there still looking down, afraid to move. He didn’t move to sit down until he heard the door to Eskel’s old room slamming shut, making him recoil slightly. If it had been anyone else, the men wouldn’t have cared. They’d seen their fair share of carnage, and a scarred woman wasn’t anything to loose sleep over. But it was Priscilla, Eskel’s Priscilla, and she should never have been left alone like that.

Several hours had passed, with no sight of Priscilla. The remaining witchers had taken to training and practicing, allowing them to switch their brains off for a while. When Vesemir came rushing outside, they all halted immediately.

“Priscilla is gone.” He said, slightly breathless.

“What do you mean, she’s gone?” One of them asked.

“I looked everywhere. She’s not here.” Cohen glanced at Lambert, who refused to meet anyone’s gaze. Vesemir squared his shoulders, looking at the large redhead.

“You can go find her.” He didn’t respond, he just kept looking down. Vesemir walked toward him, stopping just short of their chests touching. His stare was cold as he waited for Lambert to meet it. When he finally did, Vesemir repeated himself. Lambert’s eyes blazed with anger and shame, but he just moved around Vesemir and walked back inside, grabbing his gear and heading out into the surrounding woods.

Priscilla had her long handled, slender axe one hand, a small blade in the other. Her curly hair was plaited into a rough braid, and her eyes had a wild but focused look. A twig snapped somewhere in the distance and she crouched slightly, carefully turning in one spot. She made sure to hold the axe the way Vesemir had showed her when he gifted it to her. It was one of the only times he interected with her after the witch. She held the handle close to her arm, blade pointing up and out. She had seen the witchers hold their swords a similar way, apparently it prevented anyone from using your grasp on the weapon against you. She gripped the handle firmly, but was careful not to lock her elbow or wrist up. Movement is key, Ves had told her. She didn’t know if she would even have a chance to use the damn thing out there, it had been a few hours and she had mostly skulked in silence, trying to block all the bad out. It hadn’t really worked and she was getting frustrated and impatient. She lowered her arm, let the axe handle slide down a bit, and, with a furious scream, swung at a nearby tree. She sighed at the clean cut in the bark, it actually wasn’t that bad. The witchers might disagree, but it felt like a small victory at least. Another twig snapped, and she turned her head, expecting to see an owl or wolf or the like. She wasn’t expecting some large, hairy, bear-like creature to be crouched down, eyes trained on her, saliva dripping from its exposed and very large fangs. She stared, wide-eyed, at the thing. Slowly, she attempted to move her grip further up the axe handle. She should have been afraid, but honestly, what else did she have to lose at this point. All she felt was excitement as the adrenaline shot through her veins. She knew she couldn’t possibly beat this thing, not on her own, but holy hell was this a good way to go out, and at least she’d be with Eskel again. She could even rub it in his stupid face. Who’s the witcher now, tree-boy? He’d probably roll his eyes and tell her to come up with a better nickname. Or mention how reckless she always is. The thing charged at her, and she managed to roll to the side. It’s head hit the tree she had been standing near, and Priscilla walked slowly behind it, crouching again slightly. It quickly shook its head and rounded on her again. This time, when she rolled out of the way, it swiped at her, cutting her leg. Blood dripped ran down the leather trousers, dripping on the ground. She yelled, and narrowed her gaze at it. Her chest heaved, and she could feel the sweat dampening her scalp and neck. Let’s you and me get this over with, she thought, getting ready to charge at it this time. Then a flash of red curls and brown leather rocketed at the great big thing. In a moment, the bear monster was slumping to the ground, blood gushing from its back and throat. Lambert jumped off of it and whipped his head around to look at her, and she frowned at him.

“You didn’t have it,” He warned her, pointing a finger at her before she could speak, “Don’t say you did, because you didn’t.” She huffed back at him, turning and heading back toward Kaer Morhen.

“You know, that tracking thing is really annoying.”

“Don’t run off into the woods on your own, then.” He shot back.

“I needed some fresh air,” She said, “needed to get away from the smell.” They both smiled to themselves, feeling slightly back to normal, as they headed back towards Kaer Morhen. Lambert managed to get there first, his legs being much longer than hers. He didn’t have to worry about checking on her, however, because the petite bard matched every insult he fired at her. In fact, if she fought as well as she could insult someone, she may have actually stood a chance against the creature.

“Vesemir couldn’t have been too worried about me,” She mused, “If he sent you to look for me.” He smirked, pushing the doors open and getting ready to say something back to her, when they heard shouting. The rest of the witchers, Vesemir included, were huddled around someone and arguing with them. It looked like a few were pointing weapons at them, too. Priscilla caught a bit of what was being shouted. A lot of it was accusations and threats.

“How do you kill a leshy?” Vesemir demanded. Lambert was moving to stand in front of Priscilla, a hand going to rest on the hilt of his sword. The voice that answered back nearly knocked the wind out of Priscilla as she moved out from behind Lambert.

“With fire,” The man said, shrugging slightly. Vesemir moved out of the way, and there he stood. Eskel. Looking more or less the same as the last time she had seen him. Her axe fell to the ground, clattering as it hit the rough stone floor. Everyone turned their heads to look at her. Eskel frowned, taking her in.

“What the hell?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #netflix eskel #witcher eskel #witcher fic #witcher season 2 #witcher tag #lambert #cohen #netflix

[thefoxwitcher]

Steve and Robin have one brain cell between them and they started sharing it with Eddie.

#fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve stranger things #robin buckley #robin stranger things

[thefoxwitcher]

What if the handcuffs were for someone to use on Eddie, and not the other way around? 👀

#fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson smut

[thefoxwitcher]

““balls””

— -eddie munson 

[thefoxwitcher]

You really going to kick out a crippled teenager?

Here’s part two of my Stranger Things fanfiction. Also, I recently opened my page up to tips, so if anyone wants to contribute anything, it would be greatly appreciated. I hope you guys are enjoying my page so far!

The hospital was already flooded with people by the time Jeff pulled into the busy parking lot. Lori ambled out of the backseat and attempted to help Stinson out, but Jeff and Gareth had already beat her to it. How Jeff had managed to sneak past her, she had no idea, but she had to stop herself from narrowing her eyes at him. She let out a hmph and made her way toward the ER doors. The others were ahead of her, and although she hated being the slow one, she knew Ellen needed to be seen as quickly possible.

The second they stepped through the doors, they were bombarded with chaos. Not that there wasn’t enough chaos outside, but somehow the cramped waiting area of the ER seemed especially intense. A nurse attempted to argue with Lori, who was having none of it, but quickly shut her mouth when she the state of the agent, blood dripping on the floor.

“I’m not signing any goddamn forms until I see those stupid swinging doors close behind her,” the nurse glanced at her, obviously wanting to say something about language, but decided against it. The nurse, who’s badge read “Janis Cole,” helped Ellen into a wheelchair and wheeled her behind the swinging doors. Lori slumped her shoulders, lowered herself carefully into a seat and letting out a sigh of relief. Gareth glanced at her and noticed that her eyes seemed to look a lot older, her face seemed more worn, than is normal for a girl her age. He sat next to her, Jeff sitting on his other side and glancing around absentmindedly, and watched as she rubbed the side of her leg. It seemed like, for just a second, she might cry. That’s when he noticed the scars, not the long scars he had attributed to her need for the worn cane, but marks working their way up her leg, until they dissappeared under her shorts. He found himself reaching toward the marks, they looked almost like . . . bite marks? But the pattern was weird, like whatever had bitten her had something wrong with its jaw.

“What the hell happened to you?” Her now closed eyes snapped open as she sensed his fingertips just barely brushing the skin of her thigh. Her hand grabbed his faster than his mind could process and held it in a vice like grip.

“Don’t,” her voice shook and he slowly pulled his hand away, and she let him. He looked at her face and saw a fear in her eyes he hadn’t expected. She looked like some scared animal. He softened his voice.

“What did that to you?” He asked again. She looked at him, studying him for a second.

“Do you believe in monsters?” She asked, a smirk on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “At my old house, my mom was out of town, brother was away at school, dad was at work. I had the whole house to myself, and I was a few drinks in when I heard these weird animal noises outside. I did the extra super smart thing, and I went outside to investigate. It was so dark out, and my dad had been putting off changing the light bulb to the porch light, and I wasn’t exactly sober.” She looked at him for a second before continuing, “I don’t know what it was, but it attacked me, took a good few bites out of me before my dad came home and scared the thing off.” Something about him made her feel bad for lying about the last bit. She knew what it was that had attacked her, and her dad didn’t come home in time to save her, she had had to do that all on her own. He had found her, twenty minutes later, covered in blood, limping, one shoe hanging off of her ankle by a strap. Her leg had actually been improving by that point, but something about this weird slimy dog-thing munching on her leg had set her back. The wounds, at face value, were superficial, but she still needed to start using her cane again. She could still picture her dad standing there, gripping her arms and trying to calm her down, trying to ask her what had happened over her screaming and fighting him off. He was lucky she hadn’t sent him flying backwards into a tree.

Gareth looked at her, sympathetically. He could tell she was hiding something about what had happened, but he just chalked it up to trauma and didn’t push the issue.

“You can’t be barefoot in here,” A harsh voice broke the moment shared between the two. They both looked up.

“What?” Lori asked, not realizing anyone had approached them.

“You need to put some shoes on,” the nurse told her, “Or you need to leave.” Lori squared her shoulders and relaxed into the seat.

“I cant possibly be your biggest concern right now.” She smiled at the young nurse and her attempt at authority, “You really going to kick out a crippled teenager? That wouldn’t look too good for the hospital. Especially with the news crews starting to set up outside.” Lori crooked a finger towards the doors behind her. The nurse’s face got pale as she looked from Lori to the door before turning on her heels and speed walking away. Gareth stared at Lori with a mix of awe and amusement. She looked back at him, still grinning, and winked. Nurse Janis exited the double doors and headed towards them, a clipboard in hand.

“The woman you brought in is being prepped for surgery,” Lori shifted forward, “It’s minor, she should just need stitches, but I still need her information.” She tossed the clipboard onto Lori’s lap and headed toward the next patient being brought in. Lori watched her leave, feeling something akin to impressed. She tried her best to fill out the forms, but Agent Vague shared so little information of herself with Lori that it was difficult.

“I don’t even know her favorite song.” She said, looking at Gareth, who just laughed. She smiled at him, and admired the way his eyes crinkled when he did.

#fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things gareth #gareth emerson #gareth the great

[thefoxwitcher]

Some more fan casting:

Paul Bullion as Destruction/The Prodigal in Sandman

#the sandman #destruction #dc #paul bullion

[thefoxwitcher]

Ok, hear me out…. Joseph Quinn as Gambit in the MCU

I mean….c’mon

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #gambit #mcufam #mcu icons #mcu multiverse #marvel #marvel rogue

[thefoxwitcher]

are you interested in TTRPGs? do you like podcasts? are you interested in a different module than dungeons and dragons? do you like 80’s horror films? then I have the thing for you! Camp Moonmirror is a audio drama, TTRPG (we are using Monster of the Week as our module!) podcast, set at a spooky totally normal 80’s summer camp where everything nothing goes wrong!

as someone who is a part of this project, i have loved every second of it, genuinely. Camp Moonmirror is a love letter to all those iconic 80’s horror films, and soon, we’ll be able to share it with you all!

our kickstarter drops TONIGHT at 5:55pm EST, and any help is appreciated, and even if you can only spread the word, that’s more than enough for us!

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/stillouttherestudios/camp-moonmirror-a-horror-comedy-ttrpg-audio-drama

you can find us at:

https://youtube.com/channel/UCy236ulbFHqcexyVE9Dmb-w

https://twitter.com/studiooutthere?s=21&t=PnrpSIhT55JeHdaKwjRytg

Or even here on tumble at: https://studiooutthere.tumblr.com/

Thank you all very much! We look forward to meeting you soon, campers!

[thefoxwitcher]

Just a Normal, Everyday Earthquake

It had been days since her dad had contacted her, but Lori tried not to worry too much as she alternated between dancing around her kitchen and almost falling flat on the wood floor when her right leg gave out, at which point she’d glare at the various large scars and curse them. Three damn surgeries and it still gave her trouble. She finally gave up, grabbing her worn out cane, switching off the radio, and hobbling to the couch to watch TV. Right as she was sitting down, a searing pain shot up her leg. She doubled over, clutching her leg and yelling out in pain. She hit the floor as the ground began to shake. It felt like the earth was being ripped open. She’d felt earthquakes before. Small tremors that would send her brother rushing to hide under the table as she stood there, laughing in the spot she’d inevitably fallen down in while he panicked. But this was different. It didn’t feel like a faultline or anything, it felt like someone was tearing the town apart. And it didn’t stop. It went on like that longer than any earthquake Lori had ever been through. And the pain her leg continued on with it, like it would either be ripped open at the scars or bent back to some unnatural angle. The house shook as she tried to pull herself up to her couch, yelling out and cursing the whole time.

She had to take a minute once she got up on the couch. Just as she was starting to think through the pain and tremors, something switched. The searing pain in her leg morphed into pins and needles as if all of the blood had left it and then suddenly rushed back. The tremors shifted in a way that Lori could only describe as . . . reversed? The movements changed as if the parts that had been pulled apart were being shoved back together. Honestly, it all gave her a headache trying to process. When it finally did stop, Lori just sat there, panting and stunned. And then the screaming started, jolting her out of her stupor. She grabbed her cane and stood up, gasping at the raw aching in her leg as she hobbled towards the front door and grabbed the keys out of the dish they usually sat in. She opened her front door to a world of chaos. No fractured or torn faultlines present on her sparse street, but the violent rumblings had toppled a tree, causing it to land on one of her neighbors cars, and another neighbor was struggling to drag her unconscious husband into their car as her shoulders shook with every sob that tore through her. Lori caught a glimpse of the poor woman’s husband and didn’t like his odds. She struggled to her own car and started it. Her neighbor from across the street rushed out of his house and over to her, knocking on the window. She sighed and cranked the lever to roll the window down. 

“Lori! You shouldn’t be out driving right now, you should go back inside.” 

“I’ll be okay, Mr. Flores! I can’t reach my friend, Amy. I’m just going to go check on her. I’ll drive carefully!” She lied. He still looked worried but he nodded and moved away from the car as she backed out of her driveway and drove down the street. 

Lori drove with no real direction in mind. She passed down silent roads, through torn streets and broken subdivisions. It felt like hell no matter the backdrop. Just as she was about to leave one subdivion, a boy about her age jumped in front of her car and she slammed on the breaks. Her headlights illuminated his mop of wavy hair, torn flannel, and outstretched arms. He had a cut on his mouth and bruises on his face and this anxious, scared look on his face as he glanced over his shoulder before looking back to her. 

“Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?” She shouted as him as she struggled out of her car. 

“Sorry!” He shouted back, whipping his head around, “She just really needs help, man.” Lori grumbled at the boy’s words but followed him over, the sound of her cane hitting the road overtaken by the sounds of chaos from whatever they’d pass it off as. She started to ask him who needed help when she saw another boy, taller, in a blue sleeved raglan shirt knelt down by a familiar woman on the side of the road. 

“Stinson!” Lori hobbled over and plopped down beside the agent, who was now sporting multiple cuts on her face and significant piece of scrap metal sticking out of her abdomen, “Jesus Christ, Ellen, the fuck happened?” The woman didn’t anwer her, she just looked at Lori with annoyance. 

“I thought we talked about this,” The woman pointed a finger at the still running car, her hand shaking. Lori stared at her, nearly speechless. 

“You’re seriously complaining about me driving right now? What, do you want to wait for a cab to pass by, cause I don’t think you’ll last that long.” She gestured to the injured woman’s bleeding stomach. Ellen huffed at her, but allowed her and the two boys to hoist her up carefully and lead her to the car. When Lori went to open the door to the backseat, Ellen’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull. 

“Did you drive her barefoot?” She managed to shout at the girl. Lori gave her a withering look. 

“I will leave you here to bleed out.” Ellen shook her head and turned to the tall boy.

“You drive us to the hospital.” 

“Absolutely not! I drive or we go nowhere.” Ellen refused to budge, attempting to stand her ground. The boys looked nervously between the two women, who were somehow arguing with nothing but looks and spite. But Ellen was getting weaker by the minute, and Lori could tell. Her shoulders slumped and she ground her teeth in annoyance.

“Fine,” Lori tossed the keys to the boy, “You crash my car, I shove my cane up your ass, got it?” The poor boy nodded nervously and rushed to the driver’s seat as Lori and the other boy helped Ellen into the back seat before sitting on either side of her. 

“I’m Jeff, by the way,” the now-driver told them, “That’s Gareth.” Gareth threw a hand up in a half-wave. 

“Lori,” the girl told them, adjusting Ellen as she did, "Lori Owens." 

“That’s an interesting tattoo,” Gareth said, pointing to the 013 on her wrist, “Does it mean anything?” Lori shook her head, hiding her wrist under her sleeve. 

“It doesn’t mean a thing.” She lied to them, sharing a glance with Ellen before staring out the window. 

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things jeff #sam owens #gareth emerson #gareth the great #stranger things gareth

[thefoxwitcher]

I have this suspicion that about half of Murray’s aggression towards Yuri (once they got to Russia) was all about the jokes Yuri cracked in Alaska and Murray having to laugh at them and play along while praying they could quickly get through the whole money-exchange-get-hopper-out situation. Poor man looked like he was dying inside for every joke he had to laugh at.

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #murray bauman #stranger things murray #stranger things yuri

[thefoxwitcher]

Send me anonymously a song you think matches my vibe

[thefoxwitcher]

I think Netflix!Eskel is angry all the time because he simply doesn't have a pet goat.

So I fixed it.

[thefoxwitcher]

things i’d like to see in s2

[thefoxwitcher]

Edward Teach went through life feeling inferior and experiencing violence in people’s (ex: his father) approach to him. Becoming a pirate, that violence only increased. His life has basically been nothing but violence except for his in regards to his mother. Even the “friends” he made acted violently towards him. “It’s just guys dicking around.” Aside from his mother, Ed never knew a gentle hand. He’s shadowed constantly by Izzy who just feeds on that violence, encouraging it, fostering it. Repressed and angry Izzy who has no use for emotion or connection. (Fuck Izzy Hands, btw) Then Ed meets Stede, who has no idea that Ed is Blackbeard initially. Stede’s approach to Ed is gentle friendship. He excitedly shows Ed his hidden closet (soooo much symbolism there) when he sees that Ed likes “the finer things”. He sees that this is something they share. When Stede finds out the Ed is Blackbeard, he isn’t afraid, he’s fascinated. He doesn’t demand any show of violence on Ed’s part. In fact, he consistently shows displeasure at hearing about Ed’s more violent moments. The first thing the two do after Stede finds out is decide to switch places and mess with the crew for a laugh. Stede shows Ed that there are other ways to do things, other ways to get what you want, without using violence. Stede sees Ed, the person, and has very little use for the infamous idea of Blackbeard. He loves Ed, not despite anything, he just loves him. Completely. And that’s beautiful.

things i’d like to see in s2

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stedward #stede bonnet #edward teach

[thefoxwitcher]

Masterlist

Started: 05/13/2022

Works: 6

The Witcher

Eskel/Priscilla Series

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Stranger Things

#fanfic #fanfiction #netflix eskel #witcher eskel #witcher fic #witcher season 2 #witcher tag #marvel #marvel mcu

[thefoxwitcher]

some quick advice

having trouble coming up with creative writing ideas?

try crying

this has been: creative writing ideas with coffee. thank you for joining us.