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"It's like they said! Geralt! It's like they said! Am I your destiny? Say it! Am I your destiny?"

"You're more than that, Ciri. Much more."

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I just finished the first book and here is:

Geralt Eating: A Compilation

(or feeling hungry)

First up still this silly gif from A Grain of Truth

Last (for now): With all these I just thought it must be so fulfilling for Marlene to feed him lol

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Witcher Ciri

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Like father like daughter

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Winter Mountain Soldier Spy- Part 7

A/N: I promise I'm still here!! I've just been busy driving across the country for work and then living in the woods with poor internet lol. but I'm still trying to write when work isn't completely wearing me out!

Pairing: Winter soldier!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Words: 1366

Bucky Masterlist | AO3

Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

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“I have a few questions to ask you.”

You thanked whatever higher power there was that the ruddy cold hid the pallor of your skin as she spoke, and finally brought your eyes back up to hers. 

Her kind, fabricated smile never faltered as he reached inside her lab coat and pulled out a small folded photograph, "Have you seen this man? We've heard rumors that someone matching his description has been seen in the area." She said, handing you the unfolded photo. 

Winter’s vivid blue eyes stared back at you, their obedient malevolence so prominent that it was all you could see in them. His brow creased with a curious determination. For a brief moment, you wondered if the person behind the camera survived, but you decided not to dwell on it. 

You glanced back up at her, flipping the photo over as if you were looking for more, “Looks like a scary guy… what did he do?” You asked. 

She sighs and takes a breath, running through the script in her head, “he stole some high-level technology from our labs, things that have very dangerous potential when placed in the wrong hands….”

You restrained the frown tugging at your lips, “‘high-level technology… dangerous potential’ all he took was himself…. She talks about him like an object. A possession….” You thought. 

At first, you didn’t catch the way your thumb seemed to run absently over the unfolded photo, but the way she looked over you, as If she was beginning to slot the pieces into place, made you stop short. Without another glance downward, you quickly folded up the photo and handed it back, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you.”

She watched you for a long moment- trying to read every nook and cranny of your stoic expression. At least- you hoped it was stoic. With the way your stomach was twisting in on itself, you weren’t sure exactly what you presented anymore.

After the tensest moment of your life, she shook her head, her warm smile now cold and replaced with something far more unfeeling. “Now, that is a shame…” she sighed as she removed her glasses, lifting the edge of her lab coat to wipe them clean. “I was hoping you’d be more cooperative… but it seems he’s already set his hooks in you..”

“I…” you croaked out around the lump in your throat, forcing it down, “I don’t know what you mean…” 

“Oh, I believe you do…” She replied, putting her glasses back on and slipping the folded paper into her inner pocket. She looked back at her cohorts and motioned them forward wordlessly, no longer bothering to hide her true intentions.

Her lackeys took their instructions without hesitation and began to advance on you, moving around in slow arcs in an attempt to surround you as she watched on. 

The sound of blood rushed in your ears as you began to feel like cornered prey-like a deer surrounded by hungry, snapping wolves. 

You turned as the thin hand of the wolf-ish scientist on your right slipped inside his lab coat, giving you just a peek of the syringe hidden between the folds of fluttering fabric.

Your eyes flicked back briefly to the ‘wolf’ on your left- ‘Anders’, his name tag read; his hands were open to you, free and clear of any additional threat as they tried to corral you from behind. You turned back toward the first scientist, ‘Elijah’, just in time to see the glint of a silver needle raise into the sky. 

“Don’t hesitate.” Winter’s voice rang in your ears, his previous warnings came back to you, “Hydra will not hesitate with you, so do not hesitate with them. Do what you can while you still have the breath to do it.”

Your muscles moved before you could give them the command, your feet stumbling back as the syringe’s needle slashed roughly down your cheek. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your mind spewed unintelligibly as you forced all other rational thoughts out the window. This was not the time for thinking- thinking would get you killed. 

Without another second of hesitation, you raised the axe from your shoulder in a crude mimicry of your opponent. The worn iron wedge found its apex in the sky- its menacing silhouette shadowing the now fearful eyes of its prey before- as if splitting a log- you brought the axe down as hard as you could. Your eyes screwed shut briefly as a stomach turning squelch came from beneath your blade.

Something warm and viscous splattered against your face. You could swear you heard a scream beneath the deafening rush of blood and adrenaline, but whether it was yours or theirs, you did not know.

The world was breathless as you opened your eyes. Shock and surprise were written plainly across the remaining scientists' faces, as if they hadn’t been expecting you to fight back- though, to be fair, you hadn’t quite expected this from yourself either.

In the single, still moment left hanging in the air, you finally got your wits about you and… ran. You dropped the axe, still lodged firmly in the shoulder of this man, and before your brain could catch up, your feet were already on the move. 

You hauled ass through the frosted wood, the settled snow now heavier and more scant than it was before, for which you blamed last week’s unseasonable weather. Your Cheek burned, spreading a tingling numbness across your face, unlike the stinging cold. 

You touched your cheek. Blood. 

You could barely feel the warmth of it, even as it dropped down your wind-bitten face. 

Whatever was in that god-forsaken syringe must’ve gotten into your cheek as he cut you.

But you couldn’t worry about that now.

Loud shouts rang out after you, soon followed by gunfire which only barely missed you as it splintered into a nearby tree, right at leg level. 

They weren’t trying to kill you- they were trying to use you as bait. 

You risked a glance back as you found yourself in a flat stretch of woods, only to find Anders in hot pursuit, following only a few seconds behind. Another gunshot rang out, making you flinch and duck instinctively, but you refused to stop. 

A clearing soon laid ahead of you; it was open and vulnerable, but these woods weren’t big enough to run through forever. You made a dash for the opening. If you could just make it past the clearing, maybe you could find a place to hide. There were plenty of rotting barns and shallow caves littered amongst the mountainside- you only needed to hide long enough for either Winter to find you, or for you to find him.

If you could just make it-

CRACK

New instincts kicked in suddenly and you froze where you stood, skidding and sliding in your momentum. 

You looked back.

Anders too was stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at his feet, and then back to you with a different kind of fear in his eyes. 

You followed suit and looked down at your feet. Heavy snow had crunched beneath your boots, sinking only a couple of inches. Your weight shifted as you made to move again, and once more, a heavy crack and thud rippled through the frozen water beneath your feet.

Fuck.

You forgot about the lake.

In all your desperate scrambling to get away, the lake had been completely lost on you. 

You looked back up at the scientist as the single gunman in pursuit stopped at the shore, raising his weapon in your direction. 

You were trapped, put between a rock and a hard place, but despite the dangers on both sides, you couldn’t afford to stay still.

You would have to risk it. 

You took a breath and prepared again to take a step forward, but before you could raise your foot even an inch, you felt the ice give out from under you.

You had half a mind to breathe in, gasping for air, just as your body hit the water, and in no time, you were taken down- enveloped in a dark, unrelenting cold. 

Fuck. 

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THE WITCHER 3: WILD HUNT ↳ Major Locations

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Yesssss YESSSSS WE’RE FINALLY WRITING AGAIN

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I think my favorite translation-related detail in the Witcher saga that separates the original Polish version from English lies in Geralt’s horse(s), Roach

He names all of his horses “Roach,” which in English, is a very grim-sounding name. It immediately stirs the thought of a cockroach, and it sort of fits the grimy dark fantasy aesthetic that the series has going for it, as well as Geralt’s personality as someone who likes to keep things simple and uncomplicated. He gives the name to every horse he owns, further adding to that.

Meanwhile, in the original Polish version, his horse’s name is Płotka, which to my understanding is a diminutive form of płoć, which is a type of fish, known as a common roach in English, which is actually a pretty small and common fish. It being a diminutive form, it’s also basically saying “Roachie” instead of “Roach,” so all things considered, it’s meant to be a tiny, adorable, cutesy name, but that gets completely lost in the translation. It’s like naming your horse “Guppy” or something.

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"She was warm and smelt like a wet sparrow" vs " ugly duckling"

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THE WITCHER 4

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Hey all!!

Wow it’s been a while since I last updated WMSS!

And just so you guys know where I’m at: I promise it’s not that I’m bad at getting myself to write (which is true in part) but I also just recently spent 2 weeks driving across the country for a job in Alaska and just got back from a week of job training in the woods.

I won’t have a ton of time for writing, but I’m hopeful that I’ll be able to get a good amount done while I’m out here in my little cabin in the woods! 🤞🏽

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When a Character is Falling in Love but Doesn’t Trust It

Love is terrifying. Especially for characters who’ve been hurt, shut down, or raised to believe vulnerability is weakness. So when they start falling? It doesn’t look like a Disney montage. It looks like panic in slow motion.

✧ They start noticing everything and it unsettles them. The way their voice cracks when they laugh. The way their fingers tap when they’re thinking. These little details burrow in and refuse to leave. And that awareness makes the character feel exposed.

✧ They become hyperaware of their own body. Where their hands are. How close they’re standing. If they’re blushing. It’s like being inside a body that’s betraying them constantly.

✧ They act a little mean. Not because they are mean. But because being cold is safer than being real. Sarcasm, distance, teasing, they use it like armor.

✧ They hate how much they want to share things. They’ll see a funny meme and instinctively want to send it. Then stop. No. Don’t get attached. They want to tell them about a childhood memory, then bite it back. Too personal.

✧ They become inconsistent. Warm one moment, distant the next. Showing up, then pulling away. They’re testing how much of themselves they can reveal before it feels like too much.

✧ They assume the worst. They know it won’t last. That this person will leave. That they’re misreading everything. Love doesn’t feel safe, it feels like a countdown to pain.

✧ They self-sabotage. Pick fights. Flake on plans. Pull away emotionally just to “protect themselves” before it goes wrong. It’s tragic and messy and real.

✧ They notice silence more. What wasn’t said. A delayed reply. A joke that didn’t land. Everything becomes a sign that maybe this love thing was a mistake.

✧ They want to run, but never do. The desire to bolt is constant. But they don’t. Because something about this person is pulling them back, despite every warning bell going off in their head.

✧ They don’t trust the feeling, but they keep falling anyway. And that’s what makes it beautiful. And heartbreaking. Because they don’t want to fall. But they do. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the bravest thing they’ve ever done.

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trauma therapy has been swell

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god bless anyone who comments on ao3

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writing mood™️

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if i was a fictional character woukd you guys write fucked up angst fanfic about me yes or no

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buckys only upset that john wasnt mortally wounded