#cop geralt

[stupidcowboykid]

he would NOT be a fucking cop.

[mikkeneko]

I think they had a similar sort of system in The Witcher 3 where in order to set your worldstate there was an in-game interview with a lorekeeper where he asked you a bunch of questions about decisions made in past games. me having never touched or looked at the first two games had Geralt sitting there sweating with uhhh full on amnesia I guess lmao

"BioWare Details How Previous Choices Will be Imported Into Dragon Age: The Veilguard"

"Good news, you'll be able to recreate your Inquisitor. Here's how."

--

"Yes, you will be able to carry over your decisions from previous Dragon Age games into The Veilguard — it'll just work a little differently this time. In an interview with IGN, Dragon Age: The Veilguard Game Director Corinne Busche says the ability to import your choices is "fully integrated into the character creator this time around." What's more, Busche confirmed that you'll be able to customize your Inquisitor if you want to remake your protagonist from Dragon Age: Inquisition. "What's not lost on us is that it's been 10 years since existing players have played. They might not remember [what they did in previous games]," Busche explains. "They might need that refresher and we don't want new players to feel like they're missing out on those decisions. So in the character creator, I like to call it last time on Dragon Age, but you can go into your past adventures and it, actually through tarot cards, tells you what the context was and what decision you want to make." When pressed further about if all the previous characters would be woven into The Veilguard, like Hawke, Busch says, "I won't say everybody, but yes, some of them." What it sounds like is that BioWare may be abandoning Dragon Age Keep, which would allow you to export your world state from previous Dragon Age games into Inquisition through your save files. When asked if The Veilguard would read saves from Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age II, or Dragon Age: Inquisition, Busche confirmed that it wouldn't. "The technology is so different and we wanted it to be in the client," she says. Indeed, Busche also confirms that The Veilguard players won't have to link to their accounts for this option, as you'll be able to play the game fully offline. And, yes, it's a single-player game and has no microtransactions."

[source]

[blessyouhawkeye]

to the enlightened mind any stoic character can be lan wangji. spock? alien lan wangji. mr darcy? regency lan wangji. captain holt? cop lan wangji. rosa diaz? also cop lan wangji. geralt of rivia? high fantasy lan wangji. miles edgeworth? lawyer lan wangji. ron swanson? public servant lan wangji. there are lan wangjis everywhere for those with the eyes to see

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Save Me From Her - chapter 3

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: The past comes back to haunt, and it doesn't like the present.

a/n: Hai everybody! Sorry that this took this long to come out, but life has been lifing, and I needed to get a hold of my mental health and stuff like that. Anyways, enjoy!

warnings: amature writing, wounds, stabbing, Canon-typical violance, multiple POV's, mixed POV's, mass homocide, blood, blood, and more blood (also; not proofread. I will, but not yet. When I did, I will remove this. I just wanted to push this out as quick as possible.

“Lolly!”

Her voice was venomous as it echoed through the small room, shivering, and agitated.

“Come ‘ere…”

The voice disintegrated, everything in it becoming shadowy dust, blown away by the wind. Her voice faded as well, as it was taken over by a sound that cut through the very fabric of nature. A scream, loud, horrid, and filled with emotion. Filled with anger, with hate and rancor.

“She was screaming, shouting, and begging for it to end.” The voice sounded from the depths of darkness. “Yet you did nothing!”

Her face emerged from the dredge, emotionless. Her eyes like glass, her mouth ripped open, deep bruises across her features. Dead. Then her voice sounded again, the former emotions snuff from the words she spoke, replaced with sadness. She sounded bitter, heartbroken. Disappointed.

“We could have been happy Y/N. We could have been…”

----------------------------

Tara was worried about you. Ever since you saw the note, you haven’t been the same. You acted like nothing happened, talked to the cops about the attack whilst soothing her quivering body. They asked about the dead body as well, which you gave the full truth about; that he attacked you two yesterday and that in his drunk state, you could fend him off. With her help you went through about what happened inside the building today, skipping over the personal parts of course.

Even though you kept a straight, composed face, even when you talked calmly, not a hint of trembling present in your voice, she could see through your façade. You were shaken to your core. She saw the slight flinch of your eyes when the name ‘Lolly’ came up, she felt the almost unnoticeable tightening of your grip around her whenever they asked about your wounds. The little motions your lips, your body, they all gave you away. She has never seen you like this. Scared. You weren’t whilst talking back to someone twice your size, not when you defended her yesterday from the drunk, not when you two fled for your lives today. Not when the knife was inches away from your face. Never

Yet now, you were. The reappearance of Ghostface by itself made Tara too, your state had only worsened hers. She was afraid for you. The worry she felt for you overwhelmed every other emotion that would rise in her. She felt like she needed to stay strong, for the both of you. Falling apart was not an option.

After the ambulance patched you up, the cops approached you once more.

“You’ll have to come with us so that we may pick up your statements at the precinct.”

Tara raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just tell you what happened?”

“Yes, but to officially record it, we need you to be at the station.”

“But-“ Tara started but your soft, gentle hand on her shoulder made her stop.

“Let’s follow the officers Tara” you said, looking at the young woman. You were composed and confident.

She huffed but gave in to you. “Can I call Sam from your phone please? I left mine in your apartment.”

“Here” you mumbled as you absentmindedly handed her yours from your back pocket.

As Tara started to dial in her sister’s number, she saw it was already saved. At the name she raised her brow again. “Who is ‘Geralt’?

“Oh, it’s her” you say, blushing a little. "It's from Witcher.

“I know, but why is this her name?” she asks, turning the screen towards you.

You shy away from her unwavering gaze, then press the call button and push her hand back towards her face. “Oh, no you won’t escape this-“ she starts but Sam is faster, as she immediately picks up the ringing phone. She hears her voice calling out for her from the other end of the line.

"Tara! I just saw the news. Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm on my way and be there as fast as possib-" her unrelenting assault of words is cut off by Tara.

"Sam, calm down and take a breath. I'm uninjured, but Y/N got a nasty cut on her neck. The police want us to go down to the precinct to pick up our statements. Meet us there?"

"Yeah, sounds good! Be careful!"

"Off what? I'll be surrounded by cops for god's sake!"

"We both now that won't stop him" Sam said, voice low and mournful. Flashing memories of the hospital ran through Tara's mind for a second and sent a shiver down her spine. The dead cop, laying limp on the floor with an open throat, the pain and the fear coming back to her all of a sudden. Her senses numbed, not hearing Sam's voice on the other end of the line, the lights becoming blindingly bright, yet she couldn't close or avert her eyes. She was frozen in place, helpless just like when she was crawling away from her. From the one that said she would be always by her side. The one that said whatever the case, she would keep her safe. The one that said she loved her.

She flinched when she felt something touch her and snapped her head backwards. At your sight she calmed, only now noticing, and taking in her surroundings once again. "Okay Sam, I will. Bye" Tara managed to say, then hung up.

"She knew?" your voice was soft, so soft. Why were you this thoughtful with her always? It made her heartbeat faster, making her able to believe she could be normal again. But life always had a way to prove her wrong, doesn't it?

"By now all of the world could now" she gestured behind you, towards the police line where an army of reporters were lined up. You sighed as you noticed them. "We are gonna meet her at the station."

"Then let's get moving." Tara felt your hand on her back, nudging her gently to get to the police car.

You opened the door for her, then scrambled to the other side to do the same for yourself. When you got in and closed the car, the sounds of the outside vanished, a comfortable silence filling the space. The vehicle soundlessly rolled out to the road, the lights of the city blaring by the window that Tara's head was leaned against. The cops in front were chattering quietly, trying not to disturb you two.

The Carpenter felt odd. Out of place. Everything was calm. Nothing should be calm. Ghostface was back. He was here to bring her and her loved one’s pain, suffering, and death. Why her? Then she thought of the note. This wasn't about her. No, you knew what the name meant, it scared you. This wasn't about her she realized. This was about you. She rethought the attack, every little detail she could think of. She was the first one to get called, but that didn't mean much. All the time, he was staring at you with his dead eyes, always attacking you. She remembered the occasions where he could have wounded her, yet he was focused solely on you.

Tara looked over to your side of the backseats, taking in your features again. You were just as disturbed as her, deep in thought and uncomfortable. You would have looked cute if one didn't know about what had happened. Tara saw your pained gaze, could feel that your thoughts were eating you up inside and hated every moment of it. Your usual smile wasn't there to light her up. She missed your crinkling eyes that could melt the coldest frozen hearts, your witty jokes, that you would throw in the worst time possible. So, she tried to distract you.

"I want an answer" she demanded, looking at you with furrowed eyes. She surprised you with speaking up, that she could see. You looked at her, confused and unfocused. "I want an answer" she repeated. You clearly didn't know what she was talking about, but she needed you to get speaking so you wouldn't shut off again.

"What answer?" your voice full of confusion.

"The answer to my question" Tara said matter-of-factly.

You rolled your eyes at her statement. "Which one Tara?"

"Why the hell is my sister saved in your phone as Geralt of Rivia?"

You reddened instantly, looking everywhere but her. "It was mainly meant to be a joke…"

"But?"

You gulped and glanced over to her a few times. She knew her unwavering gaze would brake your resistance, and it did. "Anika pointed out that he resembles some of his attributes." You say, still not looking at her.

"Like what?" Tara asked playfully. You looked like a child caught in the act of stealing cookies from the fridge. You swallowed again, clearly rethinking your life choices since the date of your birth. "Y/N, don't think that I'll let you off the hook this easily."

"She is strong, layered and protective besides being misunderstood and mistreated!" you blurted out, looking straight at her. Once you did, your eyes widened and went pale as a ghost. Tara could feel her smile widening to unimaginable lengths before bursting out in laughter. "I'm only telling the truth here! Don't laugh at me" you pouted. You looked so kissable.

"N- no it's not you it's just" she tried to say in between laughs. "It's just that it's so accurate. She would be fuming if she heard about this."

"And that's why she will never know!" So kissable.

"Oh, I don't know about that" she smirked. "My tongue is in a slippy mood these days…"

"No, Tara I'm serious!" you pleaded, face contorting in fear. "She would kill me! I have barely made it on her list of tolerated people! I don't want to end up-" she cut you off with her lips on yours. Your eyes widened for a moment, taking in what was happening, but she didn't give you enough time to fully comprehend it. She leaned back and watched your gaping face. After you finally shook off the surprise, you smirked at her. "Well, if I end up like this, I don't mind her knowing."

Tara rolled her eyes at you but the butterflies in her stomach rendered her silent. What exactly was this? You kissed her back, that surely meant you liked her too, right? She didn’t have much time to think because you leaned in to kiss her again, this time deepening it. You cupped her cheek with your right hand, whilst the left on found hold on her waist, gently rubbing circles under the fabric. When you had to separate for air, she pressed her forehead against yours, eyes locking with each other.

“I-“ Tara started, but stopped herself. The words she was about to speak didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel enough. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to think up something that would be better.

“I know” you said simply, caressing her face with your fingers. She opened her eyes again, and your heart started beating faster at the sight of them, full of hope and concern. “Me too.”

Your words made the swarm of butterflies in Tara’s stomach grow into a horde. “Since when?”

“Anika told me what you told Mindy” you said with a smirk. “That’s when I really started to hope for it to be true. I never fully believed it until know though.”

“You mean the time when they got together?” At your nod her face reddened. She then narrowed her eyes and leaned back. “Mindy is dead to me.”

“Oh, come on, they share everything between each other, and Anika could never stand my stare.”

“It was meant to be a secret!”

“If you want to blame someone, blame me for being a too good sister, from which the other can’t keep anything from!”

“Yeah, if anything you’re an idiot” she said, smiling.

“I might be” you leaned back too and smirked at her. “But I’m your idiot now.” Tara’s stomach churned in the most pleasurable way after hearing your words.

------------------

The rest of the route went by in a blink of an eye. Tara and you had talked most of it through, and you were thankful of her for distracting you from your own thoughts. The note rocked you to your core. There were only a few people who could have known that nickname, but you didn’t see any of them capable of killing someone, let alone mutilate them afterwards. The only one died a year ago. She died a year ago.

When your thoughts would start to eat you up again the car stopped. The cops got out and helped you two leave the vehicle as well. You entered the building and were met with the familiar sight of the white walls and crowded office. You couldn’t remember how many days you spent here nagging and annoying your uncle. Yet he wasn’t here anymore, and the thought made you feel alone. Scared. Overwhelmed. Screaming, shouting, begging for it to end…

As if she read your mind, Tara grabbed your hand and interlocked her fingers with you. You looked down at her and smiled, reassuringly squeezing her hand. The cops started leading you two to what you liked to call; ‘interrogation chamber’ in your youth. Whenever you saw the cops bringing in perps in handcuffs, you would imagine how scary it must be for them. You would chase yourself into a corner of your mind where everything was scary and dark. Where she was still free. Still alive. Your only lifebelt being your uncle, who never failed to help you out of there. Now, the room you were closing in on didn’t seem so bad. It felt safe. Funny how time changes perspectives.

“Y/N?” you heard a familiar voice behind you. Not believing your ears your span around, searching for the source. “Y/N! Hey! How are you? What the hell are you doing here?” The source turned out to be a young man, with red hair and sparkling green eyes. Just like your uncle.

“I could ask you the same thing V.”

“Not even a greeting for your most humble cousin? I must say you’ve cha-“ he got cut off when you hugged him so tightly Tara was worried you might brake some bones. “There she is…” he said, wrapping his own hand around you.

“What happened? I thought you are stationed in Washington!”

“I got transferred here upon my request. Being a legacy of pa helped.”

“Kayoko, you two know each other?” one of the officers asked that were escorting you.

“Not intentionally” Vasco smirked and pushed your shoulder a little. You flinched from the pain. His eyes narrowed and without asking pushed the fabric of your shirt to the side, revealing the bloody bandage that was wrapped around the stitched wound. “What happened?” his voice got serious in an instant.

You took a deep breath before answering. “Me and Tara had been attacked in my apartment.” His eyes widened, suddenly gripping your bicep. “It was Ghostface. Now I’m involved in the homicide of a homeless drunk that also attacked us a day before and gave me this” you held up your arm. The wound narrowed since yesterday, yet it still itched and hurt. “Speaking truly, I was the aggressor that time, but that’s unimportant now.” You almost whispered the last sentence. He huffed and shook his head slightly.

“Just my luck” he shook his head. “The first serious case I get, and my family’s involved.”

“You lead the case?”

“No, Wayne does. You know, father’s old partner.” You nodded, as you did, in fact remember the graying man. “I’m in his team and for once, he didn’t put me in the backline.”

“Wayne as in Wayne Bailey?” Tara interrupted.

“How do you know him?” Vasco asked back.

“He’s the father of her roommate.”

“Quinn or E… Oh wait, no. His son is studying at Princton. So, you are Quinn’s roommate huh?”

“I thought her brother died…” Tara said.

“He did. Sorry, he had two siblings. I thought you would know this.”

“No, she never mentioned two” you said as well.

“Sorry to interrupt Kayoko, but we all have our jobs to do” a officer said. “After picking up their statements, you can have them back.”

“Of course, Stan. Apologies” he said and held his hands up.

Before you were lead away, you hugged him again and decided to throw the big ball into the game. “There was a note for me, pinned to the corpse” you whispered in his ear.

“How do you know it was for you?”

“It was meant for Lolly.”

When you pulled away, you saw his struck state. It looked like he froze down, his eyes full of sorrow as he looked at you “I’ll get to work then” he said, threw you a weak smile, and squeezed your shoulder again, before turning around and walking towards his place.

-------------

You needed to wait a little for Bailey to arrive. He was at the scene and missed you there.

“Stan and Mitch are awfully efficient when they don’t need to be” he huffed as he greeted you warmly. He was just as bright and straight as he always used to, even if time had worn him out a little. With you, at least. Tara was a different world. You remembered how he first acted around you and found resemblance. They just needed to warm up to each other, you thought.

They didn’t. From the point he started picking up your statement, he gave her his coldest self. Sam got there in the middle of interrogation, and her being around didn’t help much either. She looked even more dishevelled than last time as she barged into the room, even though half the police force tried to deny her that. When Tara reassured them that she was with you two, they reluctantly let her stay.

You didn’t know whether Tara wanted to hide what you had from her, so you tried to keep the usual distance, but the young Carpenter was having none of it. Once she got a hold of your hand under the table, she wasn’t letting go. Sam clearly saw but didn’t say anything. The only reaction you saw from her, was the small, almost unnoticeable smile on her concerned face, which you took as a good sign.

You explained everything again to Bailey, this time a bit more calmly and provided more information. You described the attack, the phone call, leaving out some information about you and Tara again. Then came the nickname. The grey man tried to go into the depths, but you dodged every question as your father and uncle had thought you to. Noone besides our loved ones will know about this. The vow you made to them resounded in your head, and you never took yourself for a liar. Noone else needs to know. It just wasn’t necessary.

“Who could want to see you two dead?” he asked with a resigning voice, eyeing you and Tara.

“Cmon’ Bailey, you know me! I’m the most charming person in the world” you teased and leaned back, smirking.

“So, half the city. You?” she asked Tara.

Before answering she shook her head slightly. “Can’t think of anyone who’s still alive.”

“Yikes.” you and Bailey said in unison.

The door opened and Stan showed his head in the door. “FBI’s here, claiming jurisdiction.”

Bailey’s face contorted from confusion. “Where are they?”

He stood and left the room, you quickly following behind. No matter how much time you spent here, it could still surprise you. You have seen federal agents once or twice, but never when they claimed a case for themselves. You were interested, the Carpenter sisters following close behind you. Tara wouldn’t let go of your hand, gently squeezing it, so you couldn’t release it, which you wouldn’t, not even if the world was ending. Especially not if the world was ending.

Three doors later Stan opened a door, motioned inside. A woman stood from one of the chairs, blonde, painted shoulder length hair, combat boots and a black outfit with a black leather jacket. You couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but the woman showed her badge and Bailey clearly didn’t like her. A case was laid open on the table, your and Tara’s picture on top of it. The sisters were talking about something, but you didn’t listen, your eyes focusing on the photograph that was taken of the corpse. It looked weird. Not how it looked when you were there.

Your train of thoughts was disrupted by Sam, who just noticed who was inside. “Kirby?”

“Hey Sam” the blonde woman greeted her and squeezed herself past you and Bailey to hug her. “Tara, and you must be Y/N, right?”

“Your detective skills are impressive” you nodded.

“You are the FBI?” Sam asked.

“You guys know each other?” the graying man asked, after Kirby nodded.

“Yeah. We went to Woodsboro high together” the older Carpenter said. “She was a senior when I was a freshman.          “

“We share a certain history, yeah” Kirby agreed. “Look, I’m not trying to get into a jurisdictional pissing contest here, I just want to help” she had a sly smile plastered on her face. “I’ll show you mine” she said, still smiling. “Et cetera.”

You huffed at her words. This was one of the weakest jokes, you have heard today, yet it still made you smile. Kirby had this look of pure confidence and kindness, that made you calm. You looked down at Tara from the corner of your eye and saw her also hiding her grin with her left hand, the other one still holding onto yours.

Bailey scrunched his eyes, but gave in, sharing some information about your statement and about the attack. The woman nodded along, and once he was finished, spoke up. “I already knew about the circumstances of the attack. If we are to catch this maniac, we will have to work together.”

“Yeah, good luck with that!” Sam said, as her patience ran out. “We are getting out of town” to exercise her point, she grabbed Tara’s hand and started leaving the police station. Your heart clenched in a familiar uncomfortable way.

“No!” Tara pulled her hand back and stayed close by your side. “I’m not leaving her behind!” The pain eased a little at her words, yet your mind was screaming for her to leave.

“Also, I can’t let you do that” Bailey cut in. “I’m sorry, but your sister is a person of interest in a homicide. She can’t leave town until the matter is resolved.”

Sam looked at both in disbelief. At Tara because she wanted to stay in a place where a psycho was on the loose, hell bent on hurting her, and at Bailey because of how ridiculous his words have made her feel. There was a maniac on the loose, and they couldn’t leave. They couldn’t leave because of the people that should try to do everything in their might to keep them safe. It was laughable really. When she wanted to word the thoughts that were circling in her head, the lights shut out.

The whole building went dead silent. The only source of light, being the streetlamps outdoors. You felt Tara leaning into you, her heartbeat fastening against your chest. You tightened your grip on her hand, and blinked, so your eyes would adjust to the darkness quicker. There was a hint of smoke in the air, but there was no logical explanation for it. It also smelled like smoke.

A pained scream echoed through the room. The scream of man. After a moment it turned into a growl, becoming ever more silent as something blocked the way of the sound. You heard Bailey and Kirby take out their guns, cocking them, just as all the other cops in the building. You snapped your head in every direction, but you still couldn’t see clearly, only the figures of people. The smoke in the room only got thicker.

A way too familiar voice resounded across the place, filling you with fear. His voice. “Did you miss me, Lolly?”

Another fading scream filled the room, but this time two shots followed it right after. The sound was deafening, and your ears started ringing. You could hear distant orders being barked out even though it came from right next to you, the figures of the two law enforcers disappearing from before you. A million thoughts were blaring through your mind, only some of them useful. Before you could do anything, you felt someone grab your hand and pull you with. After a moment you realised it was Sam, and stopped struggling against her, following her lead. But then she stopped in her tracks.

“No escape for you here, dear.” Ghostface spoke again, from right before you. You looked over Sam and saw him already stabbing towards her. You tried to pull her backwards, but it was too late. The knife sliced into her flesh, a pained groan leaving her mouth as she stumbled back. As you were still pulling her, a cop got between you and him, raising his gun. Three shots were fired, two of them clearly hitting him, but it was as if he didn’t even notice. He lunged forward at his shooter, opening his throat and chest with two precise and fast attacks.

You span around and ran the other way, the Carpenters by your side. The smoke had now filled the entire place, vision impaired. It helped that you had the building memorised by heart, as you took turn after turn. Shots were being fired and the smell of blood mixed with the smell of smoke and gunpowder, creating a metallic, hardly breathable atmosphere.

Then you tripped in something. As you fell, you let go of Tara’s hand and when you looked up, you couldn’t see her no more. You could hear her screaming your name, but you couldn’t answer, the smoke filling your lungs. Then you looked down at what you tripped in. Or as it turned out, who. It was a uniformed cop’s body, struggling for air. He had a stabbed wound in his gorge. Your hands were dripping of his blood, half your clothes soaking in it too. You didn’t know a human could have so much blood in their body, but when you looked around, you saw one more, with also as precise cuts as all the other victims you witnessed. All of them were stabbed at vital organs, or from where they would die in a few seconds or minutes. Not a second wasted.

“Oh, poor Y/N” he said in a condescending voice. “This must be pretty traumatic for you. I almost feel bad.” A hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back by it. “Almost” he whispered in your ear. There was a voice behind the modulator, that was familiar. Your heart skipped a beat after realisation hit you. But that couldn’t be possible. It just couldn’t!

You slumped back to the ground when she suddenly let go of your hair. You looked back behind you, seeing her figure falling onto her back. Another woman stood above you, and you could take out Sam’s boots. She grabbed you, pulled you up and started running, not even waiting for you to be able to catch your balance, just pulled you after her. She barged through a door, that led you to the Northern stairs, where Tara was waiting, tears running down her cheek. She was coughing hard, trying to swallow air desperately, yet she couldn’t. You looked at Sam for a moment, and after you saw one of her hands was occupied with a gun, you picked up Tara in your hands and started running down the stairs, three steps a time.

The ground floor looked similar in its form, but there was no smoke here. Bodies were scattered around the place, some of them civilians, some of them cops. All of them dead. You traced over the room, searching for a specific table, and once you found it ran towards it, leaning Tara against it.

“Y/N what the hell are you doing?!” Sam was trying her best not to snap at you.

“Tara’s going to suffocate if we don’t do something” you answered, opening drawer after drawer to find the item you were looking for. “To our “luck”, Private Alice always holds an inhaler at her desk in case her asthma ever comes back.” Sam accepted this, and turned towards the places Ghostface could come after you.

You found it in the fourth drawer and immediately turned towards the younger Carpenter. You aided her to take it in her mouth and pressed down a few times, just to be sure. She looked at you gratefully after. Her coughing died down slowly, and you helped her up. That’s when you noticed that everything was quiet. No shooting, no footsteps above you, nothing. Was everybody dead?

As to answer that question, the door of the staircase opened, and a very dishevelled looking Kirby stumbled into the room, followed by Bailey and two other cops. You sighed in relief when you saw Vasco in their group. The greying man barked out some orders, and Vasco and two others walked over to you, surrounding the three of you, whilst he and the rest of the cops marched out. Kirby joined him, her gun also raised, eyeing every corner before she disappeared behind a wall.

“Vasco, what the hell is going on?” you asked, suddenly feeling very weak.

“He jumped out a window, after we surrounded him” he said, very quiet. Why was he so quiet?

Then he threw you a glance. The glance, turned into a full-blown stare, his face horrified. You saw his mouth opening, but no notes hit your ear. Your side throbbed of pain, and you looked over to see, why. When you saw the opening that had been carved into you, you did nothing. Nothing else than stare at it, whilst feeling your vision darkening, and getting weaker and weaker. The floor came quicker than you could realise, why it was even getting closer. Suddenly you felt the floor hit you with all it’s might before everything became dark.

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

the more I think about this, the more I think sabor latino hot dad reluctant necromancer really deserves to kill somebody.

maybe the real problem with the real novel is that the core relationship is too healthy and also our good boy protagonist should get to kill somebody

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 17

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 2,512

Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.

Chapter 17

August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.

Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.

Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.

Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 

“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 

“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.

“Bath.”

 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 

“Bath,” firmer.

“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.

“No Sy, a real bath.”

He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”

“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just

.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 

Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 

Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 

“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.

She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”

“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”

“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”

“Talk to me darlin’, please.”

“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.

“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”

Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”

“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.

“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”

She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”

“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”

“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.

Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 

She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”

“So good!” 

They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.

“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”

“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”

She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will, sugar.” 

Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.

He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.

Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”

“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.

“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”

All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.

“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.

Tag List

@shellyshellshell

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@mrsevans90

@summersong69

@mollymal

@warriormirkwood

@bloodyinspiredme

@kneelforloki

@liecastillo

@mollymal

[ilikebigants]

I don't really care for modern AU'S but I have noticed that ppl forget that Witchers are also really good for finding people- not just killing shit.

Imagine Detective Geralt deciding ACAB and for a fee finding missing ppl that the cops didn't want to investigate the dissapearance of like sex workers or elves.

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S04E11 - Capital Punishment - Part C

I will finish this. One way or another. I promise.

It took this smooth operator five seconds of standing like an idiot to tell Trina that she looks great.

Rex is watching carefully.

He does.

"But I want him with Sarah."

What did she do to that poor bowtie?

"Where would I be hiding weapons, moron?"

Only internally.

The bowtie has magically fixed itself. Not that I'm paying close attention or anything.

I'm sorry but what use are internet cafes in 2022 when most actual cafes have a decent internet connection?

I'm sure everyone opens doors that way. If he wanted to not get fingerprints on it, he could have used his elbow.

"[...] showed Canadians that extremism isn't just something our southern neighbors have to contend with." Yes, only the US has terrorism. What? Even my country has had a quite deadly terrorist organization.

Well, they usually give awards to the least deserving people. We are the exception, of course.

Tell him, Joe!

"If no one's going to do anything about this, I'll do it myself."

Well, there's no plan for "my dog took off with a bomb in his mouth."

Okay, first of all, this is the funniest way to say "I'll blow up Rex". Second, I think we should be more concerned about the fact that Rex might be anywhere, including (as we saw later) running next to dozens of people. Generally, it's not a great situation, even though Rex ultimately did save the day.

Uh-oh, Charlie has an idea.

"Rex does this all the time, how difficult can it be?"

I think I actually made a Geralt joke (from the Witcher, I mean he'd have been killed from that height) somewhere on this blog the first time.

Okay, Hamilton, how much did you guys pay for that slow-mo? This is embarrassing. And Rex looks like he's lost.

Damn, he has a strong head.

Wow, dude hates us.

That's a nice shot. I'm not particularly fond of the slow-mo on Charlie's expression in the next shot because he has to also hold his fist up and it kind looks weird in my opinion but this one's a nice shot.

This. I mean, I did what to see his expression, I just don't find the pose particularly great.

This I love, though. The music stopping, the sound coming like he's underwater, the sound of his breaths... And then as he punches Houle, there's nothing but the sound of his rage and his punches until he hears Rex barking.

For the record, I believe you should be allowed to punch the guy who you think killed your dog, cop or no cop. John Wick that motherfucker.

"Hey, hey, hey, I'm here, man, I'm okay."

He was so worried.

"You did fuck him up a bit, though, right?"

I was very normal about this all the 1564 times I watched it between January 21, 2022 and Mar 23, 2022. The first 1200 times were all on the first week because we were snowed in. I'm not crazy.

"Let me give you a proper lick-up, it lowers the stress level. You silly goose, you really thought I can die?"

Stop it! I'm serious, I don't want to have to open a new post for the remaining 3 minutes!

Jesse: "Charlie is getting an extended vacation?" Sarah: "Jesse, I wouldn't really call it a vacation." Jesse, let the man fuck.

That Iris Cross report must be important. I'm kidding, I know that Jesse is probably trying to find a way to not mention the countless moments of negligence in that report.

Don't read that, there's probably tons of inaccuracies in there.

You can mention the word teamwork a million times, it still seems like nothing.

Yes, yes, we're all Charah shippers. Anyway, I'm into multi-shipping lol. But I mostly wanted to screenshot this to showcase that Rex seems kinda left out, which is not how the moments with Charlie, Sarah and Rex are shot. The latter ones always seem to include Rex, showcasing that they're family. So, yeah, for more reasons than one, I am glad to have this.

Rex: "Oh, fine, I'll allow it. Just because we're leaving tomorrow."

I definitely liked Trina, I'd love for her to come back to the show, obviously not as a romantic interest for Charlie anymore.

I'm a basic bitch, so Charlie became 50% hotter when he punched Houle. I'm unapologetic about it, and I 100% believe that dogs are worth killing for. Also, as an off-duty cop, Charlie did not act as a cop but as a person who loved Rex. If he was on duty, he'd have taken out his gun and shot him, and I would have cheered. Okay, maybe not cheered because there are real consequences from shooting a rat bastard terrorist person but I wouldn't have cared about Houle. This reaction humanizes Charlie, and I'd like for him to lose it a bit every season lol. He doesn't have to beat up people every time, we'll find other outlets.

Furthermore, I think that reaction, should it have ever been reported back to the SJPD, would have carried zero blowback. Subduing a terrorist after his bomb has blown up, and using excessive force off-duty, while saving dozens of lives? They'd have given him another medal. But the most likely scenario is that it would have prompted Joe to keep a closer eye on Charlie, because while warranted, Charlie as a more put-together cop in another time would have tried to restrain himself. My main issue with this is it wouldn't have been reported back to Joe so he wouldn't have had that information, otherwise I'd have liked it to be referenced in the season finale.

Finally, I consider part of S4 as Charlie's slut era, and I think the last time I intimated that, someone blocked me lol. At the time, it might have sounded like I was judging Charlie. But it's not really a bad thing. He's an adult, Trina is an adult, they both know that they'll only have that night and they're okay with it. Sarah is with another guy (I'm assuming they're having sex), was either of them meant to be celibate until they figured their shit out? Plus, I think it re-enforced how much in love with Sarah he was because in the next episode he got back and tried to kiss her.

[geraskierficrecs]

Anarchy Update!

New chapter here.

Teaser:

It was always a little disappointing to hunt a common criminal.

They could never live up to the quick wit and vicious skills of the Dandelion.  Geralt had become spoiled on plots and heists that were concocted by a master craftsman.  A part of him had always looked forward to the chase, the barbed one liners, and that cocky smirk that haunted his dreams long before he’d learned the taste of his skin.

Now Geralt leaned against the wall of a grimy bar and tried not to roll his eyes at the cliche behaviors around him.  Women dressed in outfits that clung to each line of their bodies leaned heavily against their dance partners, eyes flat and disinterested while their hands slid down to free wallets from their pockets.  A few groups of men and women lingered near the edge of the crowd, carefully watching as they traded cash for small packets of powder or pills.  The undercover cops that had attempted to infiltrate the space had already been escorted out by the sharp-eyed bouncers near  the bar.

All of it felt pedestrian compared to the intensity of a life with Jaskier.  It took all of his effort to keep himself focused on the task at hand rather than simply calling in Eskel to clear out all of this trash.  Geralt toyed with the condensation on his untouched beer and tried not to think about the smells currently assaulting his nose.  

His iconic hair was hidden beneath the plain black baseball cap and he’d taken pains to hide the breadth of his shoulders beneath a baggy flannel. The effect had the added benefit of disguising the shape of the gun at his waist and knife along his spine. Even his eyes were shadowed with the low lights of his preferred corner. 

Jaskier would have teased him for the moody atmosphere. His villain would have seen this all as a tawdry show—all low budget edgy drama. 

It soothed some of his ragged edges to imagine Jaskier’s commentary on the club and its patrons if he were here.  He would have laughed at Geralt’s clunky attempts at disguising himself.  There’s no hiding those biceps, love.  Men have gone to war for less.

[cliji]

My favorite part about that Geralt x Yen thing is that "cop" is ciri xD

!!! i love auroraradiation's yenralt pieces (and their other witcher ones as well, especially ciri).

pls cdpr if you have any goodness left in your heart, make ciri the protag for tw4 and have her parents be together regardless of player choice. idgafff! i need to see them be domestic and yet still kick ass post b&w 🙂‍↕️

i think their art style is so fab and the little tidbit of asian elements littered in their art just makes my seasian heart sing!!! like this one:

and these other ones that i'm very fond of (practically all of them):

check out their page to see many more and thanks for the message anon!

[winters-mistress]

Fever and Firelight

"How is she?" Yennefer asks, pulling over the rock that encloses the four of them in the large cave just east of the pontar river. Her basket is full of wild vegetables and fruits, while Jaskier pulls the carcass of the large boar she had taken down with her magic. The poor bard had lost his breakfast when Yennefer had gutted it, so he was stuck dragging it behind them, two thick ropes binding the hooves in each hand.

Geralt glances up at them both from his position, laying in the makeshift bed that Yennefer's magic had conjured a couple days before. He glances back down at the girl who lays on top of him, adjusting his hand on her back.

"No change, still wheezing." He replies, watching as Jaskier finally lay the body down on the floor, wheezing just as much as Ciri was, hunching over and clutching his knees. His eyes flash to the girl still sleeping on top of her protector, pushing back against the cave wall to hold his weight.

"Alright, big man, switch." Jaskier lollops over. "The bitchy witch won't get her hands dirty, and I am sure to hurl once again if I should ever see that boor beasts insides again." He finishes, opening his arms to take the girl from the witcher.

"Clean up, first. She's hardly likely to improve breathing in your sweat and boar blood." Geralt grunts, his arm wrapping tight around her back.

"Who's a clucky mother hen, then?" Jaskier laughs, poking Geralt's nose. The witcher growls at him, and Jaskier chuckles, stripping off his red leather coat.

Yennefer is silent as she starts separating the vegetables from the fruit. Her heart hurts, and she can not help her pain when she watches Geralt treat the girl with such kindness and gentleness. Big hands capable of such violence and pain gently running across blonde curls, holding onto her little body with such care and tenderness that Yennefer proposes that anybody who speaks ill of this witcher may be struck dead. This man is so gentle, nurturing, and protective, and she hates herself for hurting him and hurting the thing he cherishes most above all else.

Geralt and Jaskier swap roles as the Queen of Cintra's bed, with the witcher taking a moment to stretch his muscles, before going over to the body and kneeling over it. One of his daggers skins the beast, while the other begins to cut out all the muscle he can find. The bones have their uses, for broth and a couple of his own ilixr recipes. The offel and giblets make Jaskier nauseous, but he's sure they can make use of them in some way. Even sell them to a butcher if they get desperate. Vesemir always told he and his brothers to never waste a kill.

He thinks he should spend a few hours making the boar skin into a blanket for Jaskiers pony that he had named Oatmeal, for its mane was the colour of gruel. Ciri had laughed at him when he said it, her own Astoria even snuffling in disgust as she headbutted the horse in greeting.

He hopes she will be as amused by the name as she had been that day whenever she would break this impressive and terrible fever. Be the same fiesty and firey and fierce little warrior sorceress Queen he had always known her to be. And the logical part of his brain says she will, but the frantic part worries that the fever will be tok great and reduce her to a drooling invalid who would be taken out in the night and that be that.

"Calm down, Papa wolf." Jaskiers voice calls out. "Keep that face up and we won't need the magic floaty candles, you'll burst into flame."

He grumbles at the purple bard, who grins at him. Yennefer comes closer, and Geralt tenses as he had since he had put all the pieces together about Yennefer's deception and betrayal.

"Here-" she lays a handful of leaves next to his knee. "found these for her. Chamomile, I believe. With a few sprigs of cinnamon. Should help her."

Geralt takes them in his hand, letting out a quiet hum in her direction as the great and mighty sorceress begins to cop the tops off carrots and slice their stringy skins to get to the bright orange within.

He looks at her, and she looks at him.

"Oh, no, you fucking don't. You do not get me holding the baby while you make moon eyes at each other. You want to do a jot of bedsport? Go outside, you couple of animals." Jaskier throws his sweaty coat at the two of them, laughing as Geralt growls at him once more.

[kayforpay]

I hope everyone to writes AUs where geralt is a cop has a terrible day

[limerental]

ficletvember 2023 - day 8

iorveth/roche weird criminals modern au of reason of state or something

Though an elite team of unsavory characters has agreed to work together with the hopes of assassinating the shady CEO of Redanian Industries, that doesn't mean they have to like each other.

content warning for canon-typical violence and a mostly non-explicit blowjob

The intercom crackled.

"Shit, pack it in, lads, our man's long gone."

A moment later, the staccato hum of the helicopter rising from the roof of the factory confirmed the announcement. Radovid had fucking gotten away again.

With their mission failed, animosity predictably reignited among the ragtag crew of would-be assassins. 

"I fuckin' had him. One damn floor away. If you'd kept those heavies off me on that platform–"

"Ah, my mistake, Vernon. I had assumed you preferred your skull attached to your head. You were too close together to take a–”

“Thought you used to be a better fuckin' shot than that. You losin’ your touch? Your eyes goin’ bad, Iorveth? Can you see this?”

A distant middle finger, blurred through the lens of a scope.

“Permission to shoot him, boss?”

“Sorry, denied,” grumbled Dijkstra’s voice through the intercom. “Unfortunately, we need the unpleasant little bastard. Quit bitching and get out of there. All of you.”

There came a chorus of affirmatives from the crew. Geralt, already in the lobby. Isengrim, packing up in the building opposite. Philippa, disappearing easily into the crowded streets.

“Triss,” called Roche. “Law enforcement?”

“Thirty minutes out,” said Triss, her soft voice warped by the distance. Her van was somewhere down on the streets, parked in a discrete location. “I scrambled their comms but–”

“No rush then.”

“Fuckin’ hell–”

"Roche, don't."

“Damn it, someone make sure he doesn’t kill–”

Roche’s intercom clicked off. 

For a few moments, having clicked off his own noisy comms, Iorveth trailed the barrel of his rifle after the figure scurrying across the roof in the unearthly blur of his night vision scope. He considered how much trouble he’d be in if he took a shot after all. Just a few warning shots whizzing near his ankles. Couldn't hurt.

He leaned away with a sigh and rolled his stiff neck and shoulders, beginning to pack away his rifle. A dozen flights of stairs separated this floor from the lower roof below, but the elevator was already pinging.

Iorveth amused himself imagining Roche jogging in place in the little box as it rose.

All that furious energy wasted just for a chance to hit him once or twice before they had to flee as the building was inevitably surrounded.

The door whooshed open just as he clicked the last latch shut on his packed equipment, and the man descended on him, all but vibrating with rage.

Iorveth deflected a punch with his forearm and jabbed with his own hit that Roche twisted easily away from. There was no real sense in hand to hand fighting like this, both of them too well-matched and too familiar. Each strike inspired a fluid counterstrike. They circled the empty room, locked in a stalemate.

There’d been a time when Iorveth would have played dirtier, unafraid to knock the man’s head against a nearby surface in a move that could split his skull in two. Similarly, Roche did not pull the gun from its holster on his thigh and let loose the way he may once have.

Things had been simpler when Roche was special ops and Iorveth part of a now defunct terrorist organization. For now, they were on the same team, and it wouldn’t do to maim or dismember one another before fulfilling their goal. 

After Radovid was dead, no holds barred.

Time ticked by. This building would be buzzing with cops before long.

Roche managed to pin Iorveth with a rough shove against the long span of windows, the city lights glowing on his furrowed brow. 

When their mouths met, the crush of their bodies together was no less furious.

Roche tugged at his braided hair, and Iorveth bit his lip hard. When hands fumbled at his belt, tugging, Iorveth caught them.

“No time for that,” he said. They’d have enough trouble escaping the building as it was. Iorveth could imagine the panicked demands and warnings buzzing from their silenced comms.

Unfortunately, the bastard couldn't resist a challenge. 

“There’s time,” Roche grunted and went hard to his knees. 

Sirens echoed in the distance. Iorveth shoved back the slouch of Roche's beanie to run his palms along his buzzed scalp.

"Hurry up," he said, even the hot pleasure of the mouth stretched around his cock not enough to dull his awareness of how close they were cutting it.

Roche pulled back a moment, breathing in sharp pants.

"You're usually more of a hairpin trigger," he grumbled.

"Maybe you're boring me."

"Fuck you."

The renewed focus and intensity brought him to the edge and over in a few quick breaths, and the warm twitch of his belly had barely waned before Roche was on his feet and had him by the collar.

Roche grunted as his back hit the wall, Iorveth punching the flash of the button to call the elevator even as he sucked a red mark onto the man's stubble-rough throat. When the door pinged and slid open, they fell inside with Iorveth's thigh crooked between Roche's legs. Roche gripped the bar along the wall and rutted up against him as the elevator hummed to life and plunged.

Iorveth watched dark eyelashes flutter as his mouth dropped open, almost pretty.

Later, sprawled out across the dark sheets of their shared high-rise apartment, he'd like to take his time and really watch the way this man's expression lost its stubborn tension momentarily at the cusp of his pleasure. 

The fluorescent lights flickered into the red glow of shutdown just as they crashed into a lobby swarmed with policemen. 

They'd have been wholly fucked had Geralt not appeared suddenly to beckon them down a side corridor. A full-tilt sprint took them through a maintenance hallway and out the other side of the building to crouch together behind a dumpster, listening for the roar of Triss' getaway van. 

"Bastard just had to get a fuckin' punch in," grunted Iorveth as he leaned, breathing hard, against the slump of Roche's shoulder.

"Sure," said Geralt as he eyed Iorveth's undone belt. "We'll go with that."

[thedemonofcat]

Modern Mafia au:

The rookie cop, puzzled by the department's focus on a lone missing person case, learns that the disappeared individual is Jaskier Pankratz, a musician romantically linked to Geralt Rivia, the city's formidable mob boss

Geralt's unwavering protectiveness over Jaskier serves as an unspoken assurance for the city's safety.

However, with Jaskier missing, the very foundation of that assurance is shaken, and the threat looms that Geralt might unleash chaos upon the city in his relentless pursuit to find him.

[krystenreader]

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle. Geralt: Shit. Jaskier: Wait, three? Cop: Yeah? Yen: OH MY GOD LAMBERT FELL OFF!!!

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Cinema

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Pairing: barista!Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Summary: Mike takes you to see a terrible horror movie...

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff. More fluff. Then some more fluff. Shenanigans. A makeout sesh... A cop. We're definitely still cockblocking Mikey. I'm still not apologizing for that...

If you like this fic, please let me know 🥰 and reblog so that others may see it too! <3

@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @ylva-syverson

Mike has taken you to what absolutely has to be the worst horror movie of all time. At least, that’s what the reviews said when you looked up the plot online beforehand. You don’t like horror, and this one is no different, yet you are here. All that proves, if you really think about it (which you don’t), is how much you really like Mike.

As you are waiting in line to get into the cinema, you can already tell that pretty much everyone – all forty or so people – is here for the same reason. Because the one thing these sucky horror movies are good for, is a good, old-fashioned, socially sanctioned make out sesh in the dark. You hate how perfect these dumb films are for it, and you especially hate that they genuinely scare you…

“I’ve never been here before,” you say as your eyes wander the foyer of the building. It’s a relatively new theater, but not so new that not having been here isn’t a scathing indictment of your nonexistent dating life.

“Really? I’ve been here a ton of times,” Mike says casually. It takes a few beats for him to realize what he’s said. “Eh… with friends…”

“Eh… on dates,” you correct him, and watch his ears go a little red from embarrassment.

“Well, they threw all these terrible scary movies at me the last year and a half… what was I supposed to do? Go see them alone?” he fake-complains.

“Oh, you went to see them, huh?” you tease. “What were they about, Mike?”

“Eh… People getting killed?” The girl in front of you just snorts outright, and one of the guys behind you does a half decent job at hiding his laughter in a suspicious cough. You follow the example of the girl.

“Mike, you idiot,” you blurt out. The look on his face is absolutely priceless; he looks mortified, and it somehow looks good on him. So good, even, that you grab the front of his jacket with both hands and pull him closer. When he looks at you, the expression of terror morphs into a smirk.

Finally, it’s time to find your seats. You follow Mike through the just a tad too dimly lit room. He somehow managed to get seats all the way in the back. They always sell out the quickest because… well… less people can watch you stick your tongue down your date’s throat there. Which is a nice thought, even though everyone who’s here is paired off and planning on doing approximately exactly the same – meaning no one will actually be watching you. Oh well. Mike also bought you popcorn, so he can stay, despite his outrageously obvious moves.

“This one,” Mike says as he sinks down on what should have been two seats, but isn’t.

“You know they have normal seats,” you say as you look around the room.

“Sweetcheeks, why are you making it sound like you don’t want to be near me?”

You sit down, putting as much distance between you and Mike as the small loveseat will allow. “I don’t know?” Because you don’t want him to think you’re easy? “This is a little transparent and… I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” What is wrong with you?

“Hey, are you here with Mike?” Oh god no… Some girl approaches you as you’re washing your hands, giving you a pitiful look when you nod. “Have you met his cats yet? Poor you.” She and another girl – looks like a friend of hers, you’re guessing they’re on a double date – laugh, and it almost sounds evil.

“Actually, I have,” you answer. “They’re adorable. And Mike is great.”

“They sleep in his bed. It’s weird,” the girl throws back at you, her voice absolutely dripping with contempt. You have to get out of here before you punch this bitch, but she stops you as you make a beeline for the door. “Hey! I’m just trying to help. He’s a weirdo.”

“He’s a vet,” you yell, “they tend to like animals. And it’s not weird. It’s sweet. Now get out of my way, I’m on a date.” You roll your eyes and push little miss spoilsport out of the way, leaving her there with a hideous grimace of disbelief on her pointy face. Okay, maybe she doesn’t look that bad, but you’ve had it with that cunt.

“Hey,” Mike says nervously when you come back to your seat.

“Hey,” you snap, still not over what just happened in the bathroom. When you look at Mike, there’s concern on his face.

“What’s wrong, Sweetcheeks?” he asks, his voice trembling ever so slightly.

“Have I ever told you you’re a great guy, and that I really like spending time with you?” you quietly blurt out as you sit down – close to him, this time. So close, in fact, that you’re almost in his lap.

“Eh, no you haven’t, thanks? Where is this coming from?” He looks a little flustered, clearly not expecting your compliment, or you sitting so close to him. You can’t blame him. Minutes ago, you were halfway through tearing him a new one for being a little obvious about wanting to make out with you.

“Some horrible troll-” You emphasize the word and speak up a little as aforementioned horrible troll passes by your seat – yes, you’re being petty, and yes, you’re going to keep being petty. “-attacked me in the bathroom calling you weird, and I need you to know that you’re not. And I really like being here with you, and I don’t actually care that you’re not being more subtle about this. I kind of like this. It’s cozy.”

“We don’t have to do anything, I just thought… you told me you get scared and I want to be able to hold you if you do,” he whispers, a little uneasy – and cleverly omitting the ‘easier to make out this way’ portion of his transparent plan, so you raise an eyebrow at him to coax the rest of the truth from him. “Baby, we’ve been cockblocked by cats, caught by my parents in their room and I was put on house arrest for three weeks… I just want you close. We can always just watch the movie.”

When he says that last bit, you laugh. “Then you really should have picked a better movie.”

You eat your popcorn during the commercials and the first five minutes of the movie. It’s plenty of time to determine the whole thing is absolute crap – and that the world probably could have done without yet another Hellraiser movie. In fact, you’re starting to regret not spending these five minutes making out with Mike. Luckily, with the way Mike kisses, he makes up for those five minutes within seconds.

Another lucky thing would be the fact that Mike still clearly realizes that you are, in fact, in a public place, which means he isn’t as handsy as he was last time… The last thing you need is to get caught somewhere on your way to half naked in a movie theater, that would be… bad. Let’s leave it at that. Now, that doesn’t mean Mike isn’t all over you in any way he can get away with – of course he is, and you want him to, but man, it makes you wish you were at his place right now, and his cats would leave you the fuck alone, and the turtles wouldn’t be slurping up all attention, and his parents wouldn’t walk in on you.

You stay snuggled up to Mike for the duration of the movie, and even though the few snippets you’ve seen are so horrible you can’t even describe it, you’re sad when it’s over. Hand in hand, you leave the cinema, walking towards his car just about as slowly as you can manage.

“I don’t want this date to end,” you confess as you finally get to the car. His parents are home tonight, he already mentioned that, and so is your roommate. Mike says nothing, and with slightly heated cheeks you get into the car.

“Doesn’t have to be over,” he mumbles when he’s also seated and the doors are closed. You look at him, shock apparent on your face, and shake your head by means of a question. Mike makes a vague gesture around him. Does he mean…? He can’t be serious!

“In your car?” you blurt out in disbelief. Absolutely the fuck not!

“God, you’re hot.” So, you caved. Who cares? You’re young, and you’re finally alone, and it’s Mike’s hands sliding up your sides, underneath your blouse and his hands feel good, and there’s no cats to sit on anyone’s head, or… You’re not even overly worried about a serial killer showing up – which is a very normal fear for you after having watched a horror movie, but your little movie date with Mike involved so little actual watching that you’re not scared now.

“Babe?” Mike takes a short break from feeling you up to check if you’re okay, although he never actually takes his lips off your neck. Is ‘pulling on the hem of his shirt until he finally takes it off’ and answer to his question? Apparently. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him into another kiss. You used to think his enthusiasm was a little bit childish, but you have to admit; these weeks have taken their toll on you, too. At this point, you’re almost just as bad as he is, clawing at his back, impatiently dragging his mouth back to yours.

He's surprisingly strong, and not-so-surprisingly good at maneuvering you around in the backseat of this car. Ten bucks says it’s not the first – or second, or third – time he’s done this… Mike pulls you into lap, and the sigh that you let out as you straddle his thighs morphs into a chuckle.

“You’re happy,” you tease as soon as you feel his erection rub against you.

“Cats, parents, grounded,” he mumbles while kissing down your neck, towards your chest. With a few swift moves, he opens enough of your blouse to be able to reach your boobs.

“How on earth did you… That was fast!” you exclaim, staring at your now mostly naked chest in disbelief.

“I stick needles in squirming hamsters on occasion. Can’t do that without at least a little dexterity,” Mike deadpans. If there’s a good response to that out there, you sure as hell don’t know what it is.

You bite your lip and hold down a chuckle when Mike’s hands find their way into the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing your ass through the fabric and pulling you closer against him. When you roll your hips, he moans – the sound is music to your ears. There’s something about teasing this guy that’s… fun and easy but at the same time insanely satisfying. The way he squirms underneath you, the way he gets impatient and sloppy – well, sloppier… You’ve never felt like someone wanted you this much – and not just because he wants to see your tits, perhaps?

Somehow, Mike manages to get you onto your back in the backseat. It’s a less practical position, but it works – kinda – and that’s good enough for you. For all your talk about Mike being eager and impatient, this whole waiting thing is definitely also starting to take its toll on you.

Soon, it’s your hands in his back pockets – as soon as you’re done mapping every muscle in his back, that is. He grinds his hips into you. You’re wet, you’re ready; you need him. Slowly, one of your hands moves to the front of his jeans, struggles with the button for a moment, then…

Three raps on the window, Mike pulling away from you, buttoning his jeans, while you hastily try to button your blouse again. Before you can make yourself completely decent, another knock, and Mike rolling down the window.

“Officer,” he sighs, “good evening.”

“Michael.” The cop knows him by name? That’s not a good thing… Especially considering the fact that Mike turns around to you with a horrified look on his face.

“I swear he only knows my name because mom and I take care of the dogs!” Sounds plausible.

“Go home, kids,” the officer warns you both before walking away.

Mike kisses you again before reaching down to pick his shirt up off the floor.

“Sorry,” he says softly. “I know it was a horrible idea, I just…”

“You want to have sex with me,” you reply. He seems taken aback by your directness, but after a short while, he shakes his head, much to your surprise.

“I mean…” He sighs deeply. “Please don’t think that’s all there is to it. I really like you.”

“You’re just a little impatient,” you tease. He rolls his eyes before crawling back into the front seat, then he helps you get back in the passenger seat.

“C’mon, I’ll drive you home.”