#dettlaff/geralt

[levimoid]

Dettlaff: I never saw the moon or the stars before we started dating, isn't that funny? I think I'll see you in them forever.

Geralt: You look good in moonlight.

[tsuraiwrites]

The Witcher Fic Masterpost (July 2024)

Y Melltith | implied Gaunter O’Dimm/Geralt of Rivia | time loop (ao3)

“Back again, Geralt?” the man-shaped thing asks as Geralt takes the bench across from him at the inn in White Orchard. 

Geralt groans and manfully resists banging his head into the tabletop.

Gwarchodfa | Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt of Rivia | not work safe (ao3)

When Geralt used to contemplate his future, he only had the vaguest notion about a countryside retirement with Yen. 

Now here he is: the owner of a vineyard, his tether to Yennefer snapped, and coming to a slow realization that his home has become a sort of safe haven for post-Conjunction creatures, starting with one brooding vampire.

witcher domesticity | Geralt/Regis | sfw

snowminxfrostycat asked: 60. “Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…” Regis/Geralt Feed my need for these two please ❤️

For this ask meme.

“It’s Always Been You” | Geralt/Regis | immediately post-game, sfw

merulanoir asked: 83. Geralt/Regis 8)

83. “It’s always been you.”

A Morning to Forget | Geralt/Regis | canon-typical gore 

snowminxfrostycat asked: #20 "I need you to wake up because I can't do this without you." Regis/Geralt

(not as) bitter | Dandelion/Geralt/Priscilla | sfw (ao3)

It's an early morning in Novigrad, and the Chameleon is quiet.

“Hey, I was going to eat that!” Dandelion gasps.

Red Smoke | Dettlaff/Geralt | sfw 

“I can’t breathe,” the witcher wheezes, finally prompting Dettlaff to release him. A flurry of blood-red smoke flows over his shoulders, twining down his legs to solidify at his feet.

Gales | Geralt/Regis | some nudity (ao3)

prompt from anon: #16 having a tickle fight until you’re breathless Geralt honestly doesn’t mean to find Regis’ weakness.

Stay | Emhyr/Geralt | sfw 

“You made your choice.”

Moderate Measures | Emhyr/Geralt | not work safe  (ao3)

anonymous: Witcher smut prompt: Geralt meets "Duny" and tries to break his curse through sex. yes this is dumb. no I am not a furry (quilly?) no i will not apologize

The general curse-breaking ritual Duny brings to the witcher has some very peculiar parameters. Luckily, Geralt’s willing to take the job.

[witcherbigbang]

All the Shards of You

Author: TimelessTragedy

Beta Reader: lamentingpat

Artist: mock-arts

Rating: T

Warnings: Major Character Death

Word Count: 51,971

Pairings: Geralt/Regis, Dettlaff/Regis, Dettlaff/Geralt

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Witcher Contracts (The Witcher), Rancher Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Witcher Regis, Dog Kelpie, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, based on the games, they all come back, I promise, brief child death, Witcher Big Bang 2021

Summary:

The concept of time, for someone most would consider immortal, was… odd. Forming attachments to mortals came at a high risk for their short lives passed in the blink of an eye. Even a witcher, whose life was extended through their mutations, would last a few centuries at most.

Or at the very least, that’s what Regis had expected upon meeting the oddly familiar witcher, Geralt of Rivia. He’d hoped for a few good centuries of friendship before death would claim the witcher, and he was only partially right.

Death did, indeed, claim the witcher one cold afternoon. So Regis decided to take on the mantle of being a witcher in his honour, in an attempt to atone for mistakes he made in his past that have seemingly tied his fate to that of Geralt: a man who he keeps meeting each time Geralt is reborn.

 Link to Fic | Link to Art 

[bloodandwinebb]

What We Do In The Name Of Love

Author:   littlecrazyfangirl_98  (Ao3) or omaano (Tumblr)

Artist: Omaano

Beta: Vidra

Rating: T

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Word Count: 11,962

Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-GodefroyLambert & Dettlaff van der EreteinLambert & Gaunter O'Dimm

Tags: Angst\, Post-Game(s), Established Relationship, Jealousy, Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Character Death, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Mentions of other characters - Freeform

Summary:

Geralt thought everything was good, that his partners were happy, but one day he came home and found Dettlaff missing. Of course, he and Regis were worried, feared Dettlaff got himself in trouble, no matter what the letter he had left stated. So they started asking around.

Instead of their missing lover Geralt discovered a bakery and Regis was reunited with an old friend.

Meanwhile Dettlaff had met Lambert, who wouldn't leave him alone until he told him what was wrong and to make everything worse a strange man interrupted their conversation to offer a deal.

Link to Fic | Link to Art

[vvitchering]

Honestly I think a realistic Geralt / Dettlaff situation would initially just involve a lot of intense glaring and snide remarks and slowly evolve into “Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better”. Regis eventually has to put his foot down and stop them from doing increasingly dangerous and stupid stunts while trying to impress one up one another.

[gerlat-apreciation]

Vampiric Protectors Part 3

Geralt: piss yourself

Regis: isn’t he neat??

————-

The many bookshelves did prove interesting, as Geralt found himself reading for days on end, only taking tiny breaks to meditate, or to listen closely at the door for his kidnapper to make any noise. Which was fruitless considering higher vampires moved silently in whichever mode of transportation they chose. But every now and then there was faint tones of conversation, between Regis and random people, then there was a sound of a door closing, and then it would be silent until around one in the morning. When Regis came back, a lot louder than before. Obviously he was drunk, severely so, and it worried Geralt, both for his friend and for himself.

Though during the days, he would randomly black out, and come back to himself with food sitting on his lap. It was strange, and, frankly annoying, but at least he was getting food. But he was being treated like a feral animal in a cage, but then again at this point he probably was one. The Witcher found himself snarling and baring his teeth at any small noise, either from a rat or when he came back to himself from the momentary blindness. He despised it when Regis did that, and usually hurled loud barking insults at the door, knowing the vampire could hear it. Each time it happened it only increased his worry that he would become the vampires next snack.

As of now a week has passed, Regis going out with his friends and coming back shit-faced about every evening, but never failing in making sure his pet witcher was fed. Geralt currently was meditating, to the right of the silken bed as it blocked instant view from the door. Hands on his knees and head bowed, yet senses high and perked just for the vampire. He knew this Regis was impatient, and wouldn’t be able to just ignore the increasingly more feral witcher in his guest room. Regis would come soon, and Geralt, often known for his impatience, currently had the patience of a saint.

That might be because he planned to stab the vampire with the probably expensive fork clutched in his hand, and that would mark his waiting as waiting for a hunt, but still the warrior was quite proud of himself, he's been sitting here for four hours, in a half meditation, waiting for a vampire to come, so he can stab them.

He heard a soft shifting of fabric at the door, the sound of the lock outside being opened, the turn of the doorknob, and the loud squeal of the rusty gears opening after many years of no use. It probably took a lot of the vampires strength to open it, which made it even better for Geralt. The door was halfway open, and that was the moment when Geralt stood, and in one smooth movement, jumped onto the bed, and off the headboard, propelling himself directly at the vampire who reacted just as quickly as he moved. Geralt landed chest to chest with the vampire, fork firmly plunged into Regis’ shoulder.

The swordsman's pride was shortly lived, as the powerful beast slammed him bodily into a wall, one hand wrapped around the hand holding the fork, and the other wrapped tightly around his throat, Regis’ thigh pressing firmly between Geralt’s legs.

“My dear witcher, whatever gave you that idea?” The vampire purred, leaning in closer to the others sensitive ears, obviously sensing the witchers.. discomfort. Geralt suppressed a shiver, baring his teeth at the other, but unable to move an inch.

“You’ve kept me here for a week, like a feral animal”

The vampire hummed absentmindedly, tightening his grip on the witcher's wrist, causing Geralt to release the weapon. It clattered to the floor, along with Geralt’s hopes of defending himself from the beast. Who focused his attention to nuzzling against Geralt’s throat.

“Now now, little wolf, I haven’t done it without reason. Albeit a bad reason, but a reason nonetheless.” A lick to his throat was emphasis in this sentence, causing Geralt to jerk against the other, heartbeat increasing. Regis laughed, deep and teasing.

“And that reason is?” Geralt spoke, voice tight along with his pants. Regis, of course, noticed, and his reaction was to press his thigh further up against Geralt’s crotch, lifting his feet off the ground. Geralt hissed, focus parted halfway between Regis talking and his thigh doing things that they shouldn’t in between his legs. The vampire squeezed the witcher’s throat gently, snapping his attention back to the vampire's face, as Geralt’s free hand wrapped around the vampire's wrist.

“I would like your assistance, My dear. With my.. slight issue in drinking. You are a witcher, and I believe you can keep up with a vampire such as myself nicely. I have been watching you for.. awhile.. and seen your experience. It would require you to.. aid me in resisting my urges to tear someone’s throat out, and help me part from my rather unsavory friends.” Regis leaned away from the witcher's ear, speaking to him face to face, completely ignoring the others blush.

“You helped me.. so ill return the favor. If you put me down.” The witcher closed his eyes, and tried to will away the annoyance in his pants. Once Regis sat him down he opened them, and shivered, glaring at Regis’ teasing grin.

“I’m gonna go get my swords, you aren’t gonna keep me locked in here either.” Geralt growled, walking through the door with Regis hot on his tail.

“That is unnecessary, I have your weapons in the sitting room.” Regis spoke smugly, pressing his palm into Geralt’s lower back and guiding him through the many halls, and past the many different doors. Down a flight of stairs, and into the sitting room, which was right next to the door to the outside. It was midday as of now, the windows casting bright sun onto the couches, from the dead garden outside. Regis obviously didn’t take care of his plants that well. On a cushion Geralt found and equipped his ursine armor, and his swords, grumpily tying the belts in place.

“Do you usually spend all your time in full armor?” Regis tilted his head, looking over Geralt fondly.

Geralt grunted in reply, and continued onto another subject. “Are your friends coming over soon?”

The vampire made a dismissive noise. “Ah. Yes. They are. I plan to have you act as my thrall, to avoid drinking tonight. Of course.” He sounded slightly embarrassed.

“And.. that would require for me to..” Geralt spoke slowly, as if Regis couldn’t understand that he needed an explanation, while nodding his head at Regis who sighed.

“You will have to act like my pet Witcher, to make a long explanation short. Act as if you are under the influence of strong magic, and do everything I tell you to, yes?” Regis explained, if a bit, too excited for this to happen.

“Ooh goodie” Geralt growled, in a fake sing-song voice. Once again dumping his swords onto the couch. There was no use to wear them anyway.

“Also.. just a little thing.. you’ll have to wear this.” Regis gave his best pleading grin, as he pulled a leather collar out of his doublet.

“Oh hell no.” Geralt snarled, grabbing it briefly to look at it. It was a belt like leather collar, with an emblem of a blood drop, while another loop, probably there for someone to grab it, sat just under it. Very well crafted and looked quite beautiful, if it wasn’t the fact that he would be wearing it. “When did you even get that?”

The vampire’s voice was smug when he replied. “Yesterday evening. And it is a requirement, it’s to show you belong to be, and as my thrall, you do. As soon as they leave I will take it off, I promise.” He hummed, reassuring the witcher’s nervousness.

“As soon as they leave.” Geralt sighed, pulling his hair back so the other can loop it around his throat, which he does.

“There we go, I hope it isn’t too tight?”

“No.. it’s fine.” Geralt mumbled, uncomfortable beyond human binds.

“Alright.. now.. they should be here soon, about two hours? That gives us some time to go for a run-down on how we both should act.” Regis hummed, walking over to a chair and sitting down, legs spread widely. Geralt grunted in agreement, bush trying to get the little medal in the middle of his throat, and adjust the chain of his medallion.

“Come.” Regis snapped, causing Geralt to snap his attention directly onto the vampire, and bare his teeth. “You’ll owe me after this. I promise you that.” He growled, but nonetheless strided over to stand in front of the other.

“I’m well aware, and I thank you for this. I enjoy this just as much as you do, Geralt” The vampire spoke seriously, looking up into the others golden eyes to prove his point. “But I must be in stable condition before I can safely break away from my friends. If you could call them that. Now Witcher, sit.” His voice returned to the cold, steely monotone commands, looking down at him with indifference.

It made Geralt want to tear his throat out and eat it. But he sat down at the others feet, in the usual meditation stance.

“Glaze your eyes over, if you can do that?” Regis tilted his head, gently threading his fingers into the witcher's silken hair, a soft noise of surprise sounding inside his throat.

“I can. I can also control my heartbeat, but not for long.” The witcher up to Regis, tense as a board.

“Just glaze then over. And relax, I’ve never seen someone so tense”

Geralt did as he was told.

**

After a while of practice, Geralt could say he absolutely despised this, no exceptions. The false act his vampire ally put up to impress his friends disgusted him, that included the way he was treated while the act was going on. Though, when he got overwhelmed or a little too angered, Regis always stopped and made sure he could carry on, which he did.

They spent two hours perfecting how Geralt was going to act, the Witcher refused to fuck up the little gathering that would happen any minute now. Regis seemed to have other thoughts as he looked to the couch in front of him, where the Witcher was sitting angrily sharpening his blades to relieve the annoyance welling up in his chest, like a drowner appearing from the muck of a swamp.

“Are you sure you won’t lunge at them, teeth bared and snarling? I myself have learned my lesson on questioning if you can keep up with me or not, but I doubt they have or ever will.” Suspicion filled the vampires tone, leveling the Witcher a look of distrust.

Geralt snorted “I’ve spent two hours of my life sitting at your feet and making sure my eyes are as cloudy as you want them, I’m more likely to spit directly into their eyes then lunge at them.”

“You are a prideful, prideful creature, my friend. I wouldn’t doubt it in a second that they would insult your pride, or something you care for, and you would attack. And my biggest concern is whether I would try to stop you or not.”

The room turned silent as the two processed what had just been said.

“I.. thank you. I would do the same for you, Regis” Geralt murmured, looking away, the words had hit him like a fiends charge, fast and heavy with little time to actually respond correctly. So it left the witcher scrambling for the correct words to use. He had turned up empty handed so he just very awkwardly returned to sharpening his blades while the vampire looked everywhere but his general direction.

They were pulled out of their little moment by Regis, hissing for Geralt to get into position by his chair, while he frantically stood and walked to the door, as soon as he arrived a knock sounded out.

Geralt did as he was required, sitting on the floor next to the chair, legs folded under him yet to the side, allowing him to rest his head against the armrest of the chair, where Regis’ hands would be. He clouded his eyes, vision going blurry like when Oldgeird threw that weird mix of shit into his eyes, he didn’t know what it was, but his best guess was salt. The bastard.

Geralt had to put himself out of his brooding when he heard a few gasps of surprise, and eyes on his form. There were four men, all average height and weight, most of them were blondes but the third man had a deep brown, all were looking at him with surprise, and the fascination one would have looking at a fly with one wing.

“Emiel! I never thought you’d have a thrall, and a witcher as one? I do hope you know their blood quality isn’t——”

Regis cut him off, walking past him and sitting in the chair, threading his fingers into Geralt's hair. “I care not for his quality of blood, my friend. What I like about him is his spunk. He fights. And he does it well, it keeps me on my toes and that’s something I quite enjoy. Now please, seat yourselves and ask away. I believe he can answer his own questions and I can answer mine, isn’t that correct?” Regis jostled the witchers head, gentle but enough to move it.

“Piss yourself, vampire.” Geralt snarled, baring his teeth, and reveling in the others noises of surprise. Emiel chuckled.

“Ahh~ there it is.” Regis purred, a disgusting grin splitting his face. “Do not worry about him attacking me friends, I’ve already established myself as the stronger one of us both.” He spoke as the others shuffled to the couch Geralt was recently sitting on.

The swordsman found himself spacing out as the others talked, questions frequently asked at the beginning yet slowing down the longer the conversation dragged on.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his cheek, he yelped, jolting back against the chair and baring his teeth, a hiss that sounded suspiciously like a bruxa’s sounding in his throat. He glared at the hand, and then the person (or vampire) attached to it, he was the one who insulted his blood quality. Regis tugged on the loop of the collar as soon as he snapped his teeth towards the other’s hand, yanking him back against the chair.

“Allow him to get a nice look at your eyes, won’t you, dearest?” Regis snidely leaned down and looked him in the eyes, he glared back, but then looked away and back to the other vampire, with a small nod.

Once he did so, the man pried his eyelid up, looking closely at his golden eyes. Geralt shrunk them, mostly to get a rise out of the other, which he did.

“Such beautiful eyes.. but was that fangs I just saw?” Spoke the man, prying the witchers mouth open and feeling his teeth. He had tiny fangs, enough to tear flesh and bone apart.

“How much would I have to pay for him?” He purred, reaching his hand out of his mouth to grab Geralt’s collar. A finger tugged the collar closer to Regis, who wrapped a hand around his chin and forced him to look up. But in the witcher's surprise at the sudden move, he bit through the vampires finger. An angry look blazed in Regis’ eyes that spoke of an extreme possessiveness. Geralt gasped quietly, eyes widening momentarily, but slipping back into his act soon after as the vampire screamed.

“The Witcher belongs to me. And only me, Alphonse.” Regis growled, tugging Geralt’s head closer to his chest. His voice had become deep and raspy, with an undertone of sheer power. “Do you understand that?” He snarked, smiling when the other nodded, holding the stub of his finger. Geralt made note to spit out the finger directly at the poor vampire, as all the others looked on in sheer horror.

“I believe you four should go, yes? Goodnight, my friends.” Emiel glared then all out of his manor, and as soon as they closed the door he looked down to Geralt, worry in his eyes. “Did they harm you? Are you well? I thought you’d really lunge for them after he did that. I’ve also never seen you so quiet, it was unsettling” He gasps, undoing Geralt’s collar and throwing it onto the couch the others just left behind.

“Naw, I’m fine. Witchers don’t have a gag reflex. It was a bit uncomfortable when he messed with my eye though. And no spell, just..fell into a half meditation. Spaced out a bit actually.” Geralt grumbled, moving to sit on Regis’ thigh as the vampire pulled him into a strong hug. “Though I have to ask, I never thought you’d look so possessive when I did that. Why did you?” He murmured into the taller man's chest.

“Ah.. well.. I believe from our little time together I have grown attached to you. Extremely so.” The vampire murmured into Geralt’s hair, taking a deep breath of it to ground himself.

“Ah..” Geralt said, with intelligence, before continuing when he remembered Regis would appreciate an actual response. “I’ve gotten attached as well. It was.. pretty sweet of you to shove them out like that. You could have just raised their suspicions, it was risky but.. sweet.” Spoke the Witcher, also inhaling the others scent to ground himself.

“You also smell like rain, that’s a plus.”

Regis started chuckling, which caused Geralt to smile. Almost.

The witcher moved himself from the others lap, both immediately missing the loss but not acting on the want, Geralt tried to change the subject to lessen the sheer want to be back on the vampires lap. “So how will we start? The whole.. stopping the blood addiction thing?”

Regis sighed. “We will start by completely cutting me off from any human blood. I will have to satisfy myself with animal blood.”

“What’s so bad about animal blood?”

“It’s ah..” Regis made a noise of thought, trying to explain “It's like watered down wine. Dull and disgusting, but still wine.”

”Alright then. So just, keep you from biting humans?” Geralt tilted his head

“In the simplicity of it all, yes” Regis huffed in amusement.

“Alright then, this should prove easy.” Geralt mumbled, leaning back in the couch and relaxing

“Oh how wrong you are, my friend. I will go through a period eventually where I become.. well.. rabid. I will attack anything and anyone I see, including you” The vampire murmured, rubbing his temples to sooth his aching mind, which was racing through every possibility

“What can we do about that?” Geralt leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I am not sure, but.. I’ll come up with something eventually..”

Regis was unsure if he would actually come up with something before the rabidness became apparent. He knew it would hit out of nowhere, and truly there was really no way to prepare for it. He could only hope he’d think of something that would hold him back long enough for the witcher to get away.

[hannahmationstudios]

Excited about the Witcher 3 next-gen update? Us too! Don't forget Hannahmation Studios has some awesome Witcher charms, perfect for sprucing up your keyring, hanging on your tree, or giving as a fun holiday gift to the Witcher fan in your life! ⚔️❤️

[arnaerr]

decided to put together all characters from the witcher 3 that I've drawn over the last years :^)

prints: x | x

[northernolddragon]

Incubuses? Satyrs? Or something else? Horned creatures have always been considered the personification of the fallen world - smart, cunning, lustful and prone to fun and drinking.

The manipulation was spontaneous improvisation and minimal experimentation. I wanted to see representatives of various races and activities, united by horns.

[ladymarinamart]

Party in Corvo Bianco

[tsuraiwrites]

Chapters: 9/10 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Corinne Tilly/OFC/Salma Lilith Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dettlaff van der Eretein, Barnabas-Basil Foulty, Marlene de Trastamara, Sara (The Witcher), Corinne Tilly, Salma Lilith, Original Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Half-Researched Slavic Folklore, Geralt's Home for Wayward Monsters, Explicit Sexual Content, Domesticity, Slow Burn, Accidental Voyeurism, First Kiss Series: Part 1 of (you are a) shelter Summary:

When Geralt used to contemplate his future, he only had the vaguest notion about a countryside retirement with Yen. Now here he is: the owner of a vineyard, his tether to Yennefer snapped, and coming to a slow realization that his home has become a sort of safe haven for post-Conjunction creatures, starting with one brooding vampire.

[afamiliarpealoflaughter]

the witcher characters as tumblr posts part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

[ptashechkapropela]

The wedding of Olgierd & Iris 💔

[unsalve]

the witcher 3: wild hunt expansions + @screenshotsofdespair  ( part 1 )

[gerlat-apreciation]

Vampiric Protectors Part 1

Ciri, Geralt, and Avallac’h are travelling worlds and about to go home, when Ciri, low on energy and distracted, teleports all three of them to a separate place. Geralt finds himself in a world seemingly like his own, but Regis and Dettlaff are younger, and one is much much more drunk.

This was beta-read by @oversharingskeptic !! Thank you hun for the help!

Also!! I’d like to thank @witcher-not-quitter , @gridelincarver , and @sosaisdming for helping with the idea!

———————————————————————-

Geralt gripped onto Ciri’s hand, their fingers intertwining. Ciri and Avallac’h’s harsh breaths ringing out from the poisonous gas that filled their lungs. Geralt, was unaffected. Witchers could hold their breath much longer than any human or elf ever could. Speaking of elves, the witcher's eyes met the sage’s from behind Ciri’s back, grey meeting brilliant gold, They both immediately glared at each other, Geralt taking the time to bare his sharpened teeth, the elf returned it, albeit with much blunter teeth. Geralt stifled a laugh.

“Are you two ready?” Ciri breathed, looking at them, who suddenly had innocent looks on their faces. Ciri huffed in disappointment, and Geralt suddenly felt guilty, but, taking one last look at the stunning but brutal world around him, he nodded, a soft grunt in his throat to speak for him, his throat felt raspier than usual. He waved it off to the gas, and let the feeling of his daughter moving worlds overcome him.

Time itself seemed to slow, which gave the witcher enough time to be overcome with a feeling. Pride. Pride for his daughter, who had come so far from the little girl running the halls of Kaer Morhen, following around Eskel, or Vesemir like a baby duckling, chirping for stories, or someone to play with her. Geralt had to admit to himself, she was very good at emotional blackmail. He was proud of that too, just like Lambert.. he couldn’t say no to the tiny thing, clinging to his thigh and giving him the dreaded puppy eyes. If Geralt could shiver he would, those puppy eyes forced him into an odd tea party here and there, and now he permanently holds a teacup with a pinky out. No matter how much his brothers told him his courtly manners would be godlike, he didn’t agree.

He was brought back to himself by the sharp sting of hitting the ground, on his back. He opened his eyes and was met with the bright sun, he groaned. What the hell, he thought, a scowl forming on his face. Slowly, he sat up, taking in his surroundings slowly, letting it sink in. During their travels with Ciri, they got separated often, but quickly came back together. But earlier, Geralt reminded himself that Ciri told them both her energy was going low, and that this teleport would be the one that would take them home.

So he was stuck here for a little bit, okay. That was fine. As Geralt drew into a stand, he groaned once more, hands going over his head and curling his back. A simple stretch that popped his back in the same go. Afterwards, Geralt adjusted his many belts, potions, and bombs, then sniffed the air, once, twice, thrice. Soon after the smell of civilization filled his nose, mostly cow and pig shit, but the faint tones of human sweat. There was something about it that made it significantly human. Probably the large amounts of salt? There was something about it that smelled like a bad mix of salt and onion, where and why they ate that much salt Geralt didn’t know, neither did he know about the onion thing. He’d have to ask Regis if he ever got the chance again. Not that he would, or could, Regis was in Nilfgaard, after he hunted down Dettlaff.

Geralt sighed once again, brooding at the loss of his trusty companion, who was always by his side. Sadly Ciri couldn’t teleport him, Avallac’h, herself, and Roach travelling different worlds, but it would have been nice to be able to ride his mare the long distance to the village. But without his trusted companion and confidant, he would have to walk, and of course, Geralt being himself, would complain the entire way there. What was stopping him? Gaunter?

Geralt held back another laugh, he wouldn’t be bothering anybody anytime soon.

So he turned his attention back to following the scent of humans, brooding and complaining the entire way there, in his head of course. Vesemir would have his ass if he found out he complained in view of random people.

**

“You can’t possibly be asking that much for a zeugel!!”

The human male gasped. He was reaching his fortieth winter, with two healthy girls who currently had their heads pressed to the bedroom door, watching them argue. Geralt resisted the urge to eat him instead of a turkey from a nearby inn. Of course that was a joke, he wouldn’t leave the girls without a parent. So, Geralt just sighed in reply.

“150?” He offered. Eyebrows pinching in suppressed anger, he could feel his mutations working overtime to pull back the surprisingly powerful urge to punch this man. But, as if Gaunter himself, the man of mirrors, dickhead extreme, pressed a gentle kiss to his left ass, because the man instantly nodded, and relief flooded each man.

Maybe Gaunter was back..

Nah.

Geralt grunted in agreement, and turned on his heel, slamming the door shut as soon as he exited, and made his way to the location provided, a sewer entrance a little out of town, which flowed into a river that curled around a mountain that the little village was nestled in. It was..quaint..the white haired witcher kneeled in front of the entrance, taking his silver sword and a sharpening stone, raking it quickly against the sides, not enough to chip or damage, the smooth movements calming the swordsman.

Soon after he stands once more, downing a blizzard and a wraith decoction, just to be safe. Geralt was experienced, yes, but even master witchers had trouble with grown zeugls. As the potions slipped down his throat, he shivered, the tingling sensation of his quickened movements caused him to move with an inhuman swiftness, more so than he already did. With grace, he stepped into the sewer tunnel and directly into the flowing water of it. The wolf had no time for disgust, he had a job to do. Walking down the tunnel once more whilst trying to push out every thought of how disgusting it is, he came into a larger room with thick brick walls, and while the entrance was now far far back, he could still see enough to not have to down a cat. Piles and piles of trash, knick knacks, and whatchamacallits that even a blacksmith had no name for, he sniffed the air. Of course the first thing that he smelled was the invasive and frankly rude scent of the piss and shit of the larger (and wealthier) civilization down the road. Of course they built through the mountain, and allowed the probably humongous zeugl to be the villagers problem. This was another of the many reasons on Geralt’s list that he didn’t like nobles in the slightest. But, under all the stench he smelled rotting flesh and the unique rancid stench of a zeugl.

Now that he knew where it was, he started looking closely. He was most likely sharing a room with the thing.

With a little bit of help from his nose, he found a tentacle resting on the edge of the side path. As the Witcher stepped towards it to cut it off and initiate the fight, the floor suddenly cracked, and broke.

He was falling.

And falling.

And falling.

And now he hit the ground, sword tightly gripped in his palm.

There were many many hisses, hisses of Arachas in fact. Fuck.

Geralt sprang up, inhumanly fast and cast a stream of ingi, momentarily lighting the five Arachas (five Arachas too many) on fire. Geralt then, in a smooth movement, flittered to one and started cutting. 1,2,5. Twirling around and snapping his wrist left and right in the move affectionately named ‘Whirl’ by Vesemir. Very soon after the Arachas was very dead, and he moved onto the next one, the others were still on fire. Repeating the move on the second Arachas, they were quickly downed as well. The shrieks of death and the ones on fire filling his ears like daggers.

Not soon after, he had three of them on both his left, right, and front. Geralt in response lurched to the side to get the one on the left, only for the ones on the middle and right to attack him from behind. He growled, rolling away from the three quickly.

There was another, fourth hiss. One of a venomous Arachas. Geralt’s heart was too busy pounding in his ears for him to be able to tell where it was coming from. Grabbing a dancing star from his hip, he slung it in an arcing motion, the Arachas in turn light right back on fire.

But, while attacking, he, in a rookie move, forgot about the very venomous and very dangerous Arachas behind him, and he felt a bite in his thigh and venom filling his muscles. Vision dizzying, he stumbled, gasping and growling desperately to stay awake. But the world was swimming, Geralt couldn’t keep his balance and his vision was going dark. In the commotion Geralt’s sword slipped from his hand causing the Witcher to panic, he keened, and then everything went black. The last thing the Witcher saw was a figure surrounded by smoke lurching at the Arachas from the shadows, claws extended and teeth bared as smoke twisted around their form.

[candyypirate]

some doodles :)))