#wolf pack of kaer morhen

[nex-has-gender-envy]

Geralt of Rivia

wolfcut is named after Geralt, I stand by that

This design is very personal to fanfic series With a Conquering Air by @inexplicifics .

[I can't get it out of my head]

[eskel-loves-lilbleater]

I know, I know! Last one for now, I promise. Just couldn't sleep & stupid ideas were eating my brain.

Remember this is as per the AI, but I thought this was cool and some awesome inspiration.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I just recently rewatched the Witcher and WOLF WITCHER DEREK HALE and jaskier coded Stiles. I absolutely love the witcher and teen wolf and their ideas kinda overlap.

Geralt and Derek have to same character dynamic —Grumpy, I could kill you on sight, only soft for one person, enough gulit in their shoulders to kill atlas. But in the end a good person who wants to be good, (Derek wanting to be a good alpha, Geralt wanting to be a knight)

Stiles and jaskier have the same coded character, uses a mask to hide the real him in public, cunning and smart, sarcastic little shits, someone who has an infinite patience for a grumpy man.

I’m going to go a little off script because although derek and stiles fit the mold of the character archetypes they would have different backgrounds/motives

So for Derek I’m picturing:

maybe he was from a rich family that were killed by the Argents (Kate 🤢) and he goes to Kaer Morhen (the wolf school) and goes through the trails. Boys his age don’t really survive the trails so the fact that he did made him the strongest to survive so they put him through the trails again making him the “alpha”. The hale pack Erica, Boyd, and Issac were also from the wolf school. He later gets called “the butcher” after he finds Kate later on and kills he and a few knights.

Or

He was dropped off at the wolf school as a child and Talia takes him under her wing as he goes through the mutagen’s that turn him into a Witcher. Kate is one of the witches that are working on the boys, she manipulated him and uses him to sack Kaer Morhen leading to the death of most of the hale pack. Peter goes feral and he is forced to put him down leading to the nickname butcher.

For Stiles there are many different option one could go with because although he shares many traits with jaskier I cannot see him as a bard. Maybe he’s also a Witcher from the cat school who ends up traveling with Derek after it gets a little to dangerous to as a lone Witcher.

Maybe he’s a traveling healer/herbalist/apothecary who keeps running into Derek and healing him. He graduated from Oxford, and helped smuggle out elves into safer locations(spy stiles). Maybe Derek trusts him to save him because stiles smuggled him out of an argent jail cell, a move that could have cost Stiles his life. So as a thank you Derek swears to help protect him in times of need (overprotective bodyguard Derek, my beloved). Stiles allowing Derek to play out his knight fantasy by protecting him.

“Looking after you is my duty”

“Is that the only reason you do it?” (Taken from Epic the movie)

Or maybe Stiles is a spark, he studied at one of the main mage school like Aretuza, and joined the brotherhood. While there he finds a conspiracy to create new Witcher loyal to the crown and the mage schools. One of the trails, Scott. So he grabs Scott and betrays the brotherhood, leading him to seek out Derek to help. Together with the hale pack the take down the corrupt leader and the argents.

There are so many options but the potential is so amazing!! Derek who hates everyone but stiles. The soft intimacy of their interactions. Stiles healing Derek in soft candlelight, light touches on his skin as not to overwhelm him. Derek being surround by stiles scent, a safe place to rest.

[inexplicifics]

More snippet requests: Panther!Milena, Vanyel in Kaer Morhen, ISNLIV

Panther!Milena:

The enormous fucking cat paces towards them, one slow step at a time, ears still pricked forward, tail-tip twitching. It doesn’t look like a hunting stalk, Lambert doesn’t think; it’s not hunkered down, not slinking. It’s just… walking, right towards them. It comes right up to Aiden, who holds out his hand, the daft moggy, like the damn thing wouldn’t be able to bite his whole fucking arm off if it wanted to. The cat sniffs at Aiden’s offered fingers delicately, pulls back in thought, and then bumps its nose gently against Aiden’s hand and sits down, curling its tail tidily around its enormous paws. It’s as tall sitting up as Aiden’s shoulder, and its head is almost as big as Aiden’s fucking ribcage. “What a good kitty,” Aiden coos, and puts his hand on the fucking thing’s head.

Vanyel in Kaer Morhen:

Vanyel kisses back without thinking about it, and only when Tylendel has to pull back to breathe does he remember that Cedric is watching. He glances over at Cedric in sudden horror, to find that the cat-eyed man… Looks amused, mostly. Vanyel swallows hard. Cedric tilts his head and raises an eyebrow in question. Vanyel tries to think of how to pantomime this. After a moment he gestures to himself, then to Tylendel, then makes an expression of fury and disgust. Cedric blinks in confusion for a moment, then laughs aloud and shakes his head. He puts down his whittling knife and the bit of wood he’s been working on, and holds his hands up, each with an index finger extended. “Cedric,” he says, wiggling one finger. “Axel,” for the other. Then he hooks his index fingers together tightly, like two links in a chain. Vanyel’s jaw drops, and he can feel Tylendel’s matching astonishment. Cedric and Axel are shaych? And it’s not a secret at all?

ISNLIV 3:

Lambert has never met a witcher whose scent was pears and honey, which mostly just means whoever it is, it isn’t a long-lost Wolf or one of the two Vipers and one particularly grumpy Bear he’s ever encountered. It could be a hermetic Griffin, maybe. If it is, Coën will be overjoyed, especially if Lambert can talk them into coming back to Kaer Morhen. Or maybe a Bear - they’re solitary, but not completely heartless. More likely a Viper, who will almost certainly want a favor or three for saving Lambert’s sorry ass, but if they get him back to Kaer Morhen, well, his pack will pay whatever price is set. ...Or, of course, he could be a gods-be-damned Cat.

[thedemonofcat]

Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and his pack, this tale originally casts Vessimer as the warlord after the Sacking of Kaer Morhen, with Geralt chosen as his heir.

When Geralt was young, freshly made into a Witcher, he met another boy, Prince Julian of Lettenhove. The plan was for Geralt and Julian to marry one day, uniting their realms into a new kingdom.

At first, their relationship was awkward, but Geralt and Julian soon developed a strong friendship. The wolf within Geralt began to see Julian as his mate.

One winter, devastating news arrived: Lettenhove had been attacked, and the entire royal family, including Julian, had been killed.

Heartbroken, Geralt spent most of his time on the path, trying to avoid any memories of Julian.

Years later, in a tavern, Geralt encounters a bard named Jaskier, who has no memory of his past. Jaskier is enslaved by a mage, typically kept in the form of a bird and only returned to human form for specific tasks.

Something about Jaskier feels strangely familiar to Geralt.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Aiden bit his lip, trying not to laugh at the sight that greeted him. After conquering the Killer earlier that afternoon, followed by hasty introductions and a quick tour of Kaer Morhen (the parts he'd been permitted to see, anyway), he wasn't ashamed to admit that the first thing his eyes had fallen on when Lambert had ushered him into his room and removed the dust sheets was the bed. A bed which was almost impossible to see underneath the huge pile of furs.

"Uhm, Lambert?" He asked as he slowly removed his pack and weapons, placing them by the door, "As comfortable as that looks, won't the others be pissed at you claiming all of those?"

Lambert looked over from his current task of throwing the ball of dust sheets into a corner of the room, following Aiden's gaze, "Huh? Oh no, they're all mine. One who brings the meat in gets first dibs on any other parts." He ducked his head in that way Aiden knew meant he was about to start feeling embarrassed about something, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I've done a lot of hunting these past few years. Least you'll be warm though."

Aiden thought back to something Lambert's giant of a brother had said back in the main hall whilst giving him a critically amused stare.

"So you're the reason Lamb Chop's kept us so well fed these past few winters."

Aiden hadn't replied, thinking maybe it was some sort of injoke amongst the Wolves he wasn't privy too (although he *definitely* made a mental note of the Lamb Chop nickname). Now though the implications were a little hard to ignore.

"So. What your brother said downstairs...Lambert, you didn't hunt all of these just for me did you?"

"Not just you, no. Meat always gets used." Lambert answered, scuffing his foot and not meeting Aiden's eye as the scent of his embarrassment started to swell, "I know you don't like the cold and I -" He made a frustrated noise and rolled his eyes like it was physically hurting him to get the words out. "I wanted to make sure you were comfortable when I stopped being too chicken shit to bring you up here." He finished, sounding almost petulant at the admission, flicking his eyes up to gauge the others reaction, "It was stupid of me to think you'd need that many though. I'll take some of them off."

Aiden felt a smile split his face at his Wolf's thoughtfulness. Before Lambert could get the wrong idea, he strode over and pulled him into his arms before drawing him into a kiss, knowing Lambert preferred actions over words.

Aiden's smile was still firmly in place when he pulled away, "The only thing I want you taking off isn't on the bed." He said, giving a playful tug on the others armour for emphasis before turning and jumping into the middle of the bed, laughing as he sank into and was surrounded by softness.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come share in your spoils."

[kittenofdoomage]

In case you missed it...

I'm currently posting a fic a day over on Ao3 for my Tropetober A-Z event on Patreon last year. It's a different character every day from different fandoms, mostly smutty (you know me). All red underlined links lead to AO3, please read the warnings on individual stories 😘

The fics:

A: Alpha/Beta/Omega - Winter Nights

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You’re an Omega who lives at Kaer Morhen, unmated but belonging, almost like a pack Omega to the Alpha Witchers; Geralt, Coen, Lambert and Vesemir, though the elder Witcher is long past any need for you. Geralt is close to rut when he returns, and seeks you out.

B: Bodyswap - Worth The Wait

(John Winchester x fem!reader) Some supernatural beings don’t want to hurt anyone, they just want to prove a point.

C: Character Death - The One Good Thing

(Negan x fem!reader) You waited so long to have him back, and he’s waited so long to get back to you, now you can be happy again… right?

D: Dark fic - On Our Terms

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) A sorcerer out for revenge leaves you in a dangerous position, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it out of this one.

E: Enemies To Lovers - Trapped

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) An incident on a mission leaves you and Bucky trapped in a vault. Being sealed in a relatively small space is a problem on its own, but you’re faced with another dilemma; you absolutely hate Bucky Barnes.

F: Fake Dating - Keeping Up Appearances

(John Winchester x fem!reader) You haven’t heard from John in three months, after he abandoned you, but now he needs your help on a case. Are you willing to ignore your feelings to help him?

G: Glad To Be Alive - All Is Not Lost

(Negan x fem!reader) A sequel to "The One Good Thing" which was letter C of Tropetober.

H: High School Sweethearts - Bittersweet

(Steve Rogers x fem!reader) In any time or place, she'd love him.

I: I Don't Want To Ruin Our Friendship - Mistakes

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) She took a chance and it broke her heart - can Bucky fix the mistake he made?

J: Just Friends - Nightcap

(John Winchester x fem!reader) She’s sick of correcting everyone, and alcohol loosens the tongue.

K: Kiss Of Life - Near Miss

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Geralt saves your life, then reminds you to never nearly die again.

L: Love Potion - A Wee Favor

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader x Sam Winchester) Dreams can come true.

M: Mates - Crossed Paths

(Alpha!Geralt Of Rivia x Omega!fem!reader) Destiny put them in each other's way for a reason.

N: New Old Flame - Always Yes

(John Winchester x fem!reader) They came so close to something special, only to have it torn away; is there any hope left for them now?

O: One True Love - Backseat Lover

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) He's been keeping a secret from her, and when they're stranded alone for hours, he finally has to come clean.

P: Please Don't Leave Me - Vigil

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) He's halfway through a mission when something he can't fight happens.

Q: Queen Size Bed - Never Have I Ever

(John Winchester x fem!reader x Dean Winchester) Drinking can lead to all sorts of decisions, luckily, these are good ones.

R: Roommates - Sleepless

(Bucky Barnes x fem!reader) Turns out, the solution to the problem was there all along.

S: Soulmates - Runaway

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) You run away from the life your parents want for you, and finally find your soulmate in the most unlikely of places.

T: Time Travel - Time Breaks All Things

(John Winchester x fem!reader) - A misstep on a case puts them somewhere they didn't expect to be, and they're not sure if there's a way home again.

U: Unresolved Sexual Tension - Seize The Sam

(Sam Winchester x fem!reader) Dean "Matchmaker" Winchester strikes again.

V: Virgin - Life Lessons

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) The night that Geralt learned his most valuable life lessons…

W: Werewolf - The Wolf Moon

(Henry Cavill x fem!reader) A night of camping leads her right into the arms of fate.

X: Xenafication - Rough

(Geralt Of Rivia x fem!reader) Something changes you, and Geralt isn't sure it's a good thing.

Y: You Can't Fight Fate - Ships In The Night

(Dean Winchester x fem!reader) She keeps running to avoid heartbreak but she's breaking all the same.

Z: Zombies - Full

(Negan Smith x fem!reader) She knows she shouldn't, but the problem is, she wants to, real bad.

If you do check any of the fics out, please let me know what you think 😊

[plotbunnybreeder]

Howl a Verse, I'll Sing the Chorus

Jaskier's hit writer's block for his latest album and he takes his manager's advice to "traipse through nature or something" for inspiration and ends up at the wolf sanctuary Kaer Morhen a couple hours out of town. After one tour of the place he's fallen in love with the pack and even harder for one of the caretakers there, the cautious, surly, absolutely gorgeous Geralt.

Real estate conglomerate Nilfgaard is fighting to buy out the land and get rid of the sanctuary, but Jaskier thinks he has a plan to finish his album and save the sanctuary if he can only get Geralt and the rest of Kaer Morhen to trust him.

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 5

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to 

Words: 3,266

Yennefer cursed under her breath as she heard Geralt returning faster than she’d expected. He’d gone into the woods while Ciri and Jaskier were packing their things on the horses. She had to do this now if it was going to happen and she knew it. She’d helped Naurel to her feet with the guise of leading her to the horses just before she threw down the vial that caused the portal to flicker open.

“YENNEFER!” Geralt yelled when he saw the air ripple and wave to life. He ran toward it diving just in time to grab Naurel and pull her back causing all of them to topple to the ground. He rolled to his feet as did Yennefer and she tried to bolt toward the portal. It faded just before she reached it.

“Fuck,” she tried to figure out what to do. Had he seen her open the portal? If he hadn’t seen her do it then maybe she could claim surprise. If he had seen her could she make it to Ciri in time to take her instead since Geralt had his hands on Naurel? She only had one more potion to open a portal and she had to make it count. Movement caught her attention and Geralt’s as they both turned to see six Kikimora running toward them from where the portal had been.

“Fuck,” Geralt grabbed an elixir from the holster on his thigh and drank it as he pulled his sword from his back. He stopped one of them from slicing into Naurel by cutting its front legs off then stabbing it through the head. “Stand with Ciri and Jaskier,” he ordered. She ran to them and they all huddled together near the horses.

His sword arced through the air sending black blood flying as he fought against the monsters. They were fast and vicious as they encircled him instinctively knowing if they took out the biggest threat together the humans would be no match for them.

“Geralt!” Ciri gasped as one Kikimora stabbed into his thigh as another sliced across his side while he cut the head off of another with his sword. She hid her face in Naurel’s shoulder.

Naurel saw them spitting venom at the witcher and could see the smoke rising from his skin as it was melting away. Her hand was searching Geralt’s saddlebags while keeping her eyes on the battle trying to find anything that would help. By the time her hand closed around the handle of a dagger Geralt had killed four of the six creatures but he was fading from blood loss and the acid-like venom they had spit on him. “Jaskier, take Ciri,” she said, shoving the girl to the bard. Naurel stepped carefully toward Geralt and the two remaining Kikkimora’s just as the witcher hit his knees. “Hey!” she yelled to get their attention as she sliced across her arm.

“No!” Geralt’s voice was different, more dangerous and demanding with the elixir. “What the fuck are you doing?”

She held up her hand letting the blood flow freely knowing it would drive them crazy. Everything after that happened so quickly it was a blur. Geralt was on his feet right behind them swinging his sword and cutting them to pieces. He cut one’s head from its body and with a huge leap through the air he stabbed the other one from the top of the head through, driving his sword in the ground with a squish.

Geralt saw another portal open to his right and four people running toward them. On instinct, he raised his blade to the first one but stopped short of killing him. “You look like day-old shit,” he rasped before dropping his weapon to the ground and leaning heavily on Naurel while grasping the bleeding gash on her arm.

Eskel was shocked when he saw Geralt was the one at the site of the attack, Their amulets had all alerted them to the presence of monsters nearby, and with Triss at the keep, she offered to portal them so they didn’t have to ride in the snow. He hadn’t expected to see his brother at the other end.

“What the fuck happened here?” Lambert asked as he saw the four humans and the six dead Kikkimoras.

“A portal opened and released the kikimora,” Geralt explained. “Nothing else came through though,” his confusion was clear. “Did you see anything?” he looked at Naurel.

She wasn’t sure what happened. It looked to her that Yennefer used a potion to open a portal but why would she do that? She was a witch, she didn’t need a potion for that. “I..I don’t know. I just saw Yennefer drop a potion and then everything went wavy.

All eyes turned to Yennefer who thought up a lie quickly. “I had made a potion for Naurel and was about to give it to her when the portal opened. I didn’t see anything come through besides the creatures. I’m sorry I wasn’t of more help but I was trying to get her to safety.” Geralt could hear her heart racing but he didn’t question her. She breathed a sigh of relief.

It was decided that Geralt, Naurel, Ciri, Yennefer, and Jaskier would accompany Triss and Eskel to Kaer Morhen through a portal while Lambert and Cohen brought the horses up the path. It ensured that the keeps location remained a secret and also that Geralt and his friend could be treated quicker.

When they stepped out of the portal he put his arms around Ciri and Naurel ushering them into the great hall with Yen and Jaskier following with Eskel. “Look who we found,” Eskel shouted at the other witchers.

“We thought you were dead,” one of them yelled.

“Not yet,” he grinned as they all moved to embrace their brother. Naurel and Ciri smiled as they watched them interact.

“Wolf?”

Geralt turned toward the newest voice. “Vesimer,” he hugged the old witcher then introduced his companions.

“Damn three women and a bard,” one of his brothers smirked. “You must be in hell.” Naurel grinned and shook her head at their banter before allowing Triss to guide her to a seat at one of the tables.

Once greetings were shared and everyone started drinking and telling stories Geralt sent Ciri and Jaskier off in search of rooms and Triss, Vesimer, Geralt, and Naurel all moved to the laboratory. Naurel insisted that Geralt be looked over too after all of the venom and he smiled. “I’m a witcher. I will heal on my own.”

She wasn’t happy about it but she relented and let Triss expose her wounds. Vesimer stepped forward but stopped, “May I?” she nodded her consent, grateful he’d asked before touching her. After much looking and touching, even drawing blood for testing she was on edge but covered in salves and most of her wounds were healed by Triss. She wasn’t hurting nearly as much now.

Knowing that she’d agreed to come here to help Geralt figure out why he was so drawn to her she knew she had to come clean now. She looked at him, “You’re sure they can be trusted?” After all the things that had happened she was terrified of their reaction and them turing her over to the enemy again.

“Yes,” he assured her as he slipped his arm around her for support.

Vesimer looked at them both in question but gave her the time she needed to find her words. “I.. I’m not sure where to start to be honest. I was a slave in Centra all my life, sold when I was three, and just traded around to a few families. There was nothing about my life that seemed important at all. It was really boring, to be honest, until the day I was sent to the market to buy a sweet cake for the master's child’s birthday. You see his mother didn’t like to cook and she feared that he was already too reliant on me so if I made him a birthday cake that it would make him look to me more than her,” she knew she was babbling but couldn’t stop herself.

“I went to the market after lunch and bought a sweet cake and a wooden soldier that my master wanted to give him as a present. As I was walking from one merchant to another there was a group of guardsmen wandering around and one of them made a crude comment to me. I ignored him and finished the shopping but they were waiting for me as I left.” A shiver wracked her body at the memory and Geralt rubbed her back soothingly. “They cornered me and kept trying to touch me making lewd comments about things they wanted to do to me or me to do to them. I tried to walk past again and one of them grabbed my breast. I..I slapped him,” her voice wavered and tears spilled down her face. She looked at Geralt with wide, pleading eyes as she tried to explain her actions like she was going to be punished for them again. “It was stupid I know but I didn’t even realize I was doing it until I felt my hand connect with his cheek.”

His heart broke at the fear that was coming off of her. Geralt hugged her close to him rockinging her gently to try and sooth her. When she was finally able to speak through the sobs she started again. “They knocked me down in the mud and started hitting and kicking me as they ripped at my dress. That’s when I heard someone yell he’d been robbed and he came running over to the guard. They spoke in whispers and suddenly they were going through my basket. I just sat there with my knees pulled to my chest trying to cover myself where they’d ripped my dress while they dumped everything on the ground.” She looked up at Geralt with tear-filled eyes, “I watched him drop the bracelet onto the pile of things. He took it from his pocket and just dropped it. The guard saw him do it but he arrested me anyway.”

He wanted to go kill the guardsmen but he was pretty sure they were likely already dead. “Is that where you were tortured?”

“N..no. The man who accused me of stealing, the one who put the bracelet in my things, He requested I be turned over to him as punishment. Queen Calanthe agreed to his request and I was taken to his carriage and bound to it.”

“Do you know his name?” Vesimer asked.

“No. No one ever said his name in my presents. I don’t know how long he held me captive and tortured me. He would starve me until I was too weak to fight back then he would do all sorts of medical experiments,” she shivered at the memory. “When he got tired of cutting things and breaking my bones he moved to magic.” She looked at Triss, “It was nothing like you do. It felt,” she paused and searched for the proper words. “It felt wrong, like it was fueled by hate but I had never even seen the man. What did I do to make him hate me?” she questioned.

“Some people are just evil, girl,” Vesimer told her. “We witchers were made to fight monsters and protect humans but when they created us they didn’t consider that some humans were monsters.”

“It blurred the lines of what we do that’s for sure,” Geralt agreed.

She rested her head on his shoulder. All the emotions were draining her energy. “He cast all sorts of spells, forced potions into me, performed rituals, injections” she shook her head. “I don’t know what he did to me but I felt as if all the warmth from my body was turned to ice. I’ve never been warm since. I’m always weak and tired and it takes all my energy to just walk sometimes.”

Triss put some water in a cup and handed it to Naurel. She accepted it gratefully but her hands were shaking so bad that Geralt had to help her steady it to take a drink. Not realizing how thirsty she’d been till the cool liquid hit her tongue she drank it down quickly then blushed when she realized she’d gulped it down. “Were you always on the move like when Geralt found you,” Triss asked.

“No, I was kept in a dungeon most of the time. I don’t know why they moved me but one night, I guess it was night, I had no way of seeing the sky, they moved me and I was whisked away in some traveling camp. It was on the third day of being kept in the camp that the attack happened.”

“Do you know who attacked?” Vesimer asked.

Naurel hesitated unsure if she should tell them. She felt Geralt lift her chin and turn her head so that he was looking into her eyes. “Please, we need to know. You can trust us.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just,” she sighed. “It’s so unbelievable.”

“More than mutant warriors who fight monsters?” he smiled at her trying to ease her tension.

“He was about to kill me. I guess with everything going on it was too much trouble to keep experimenting on me. Just as he held the blade high to stab me in the chest, howls ripped through their air and he froze. I heard the soldiers screaming and then yipping and barking. The mage fled the tent to see what was happening and I forced myself to roll off the table and crawled out of the tent. I don’t know if I was just trying to see what was happening or hoping he’d come to finish what he’d started but I did not expect what happened next.”

“A wolf pack, three grays, and one huge white wolf had killed all of them except the mage. I saw him open a portal and flee. I lay on the ground unable to run as the white wolf stalked toward me. He stood over me and I was positive he was going to kill me but instead, he laid down and wrapped himself around me. We stayed like that for three days. He kept me warm and tried to feed me by dropping random chunks of the guards on me and when I refused he started to get upset. On the third day, he stood over me and tried to pour a mouth full of blood into my mouth. I curled up so that he missed and he gave a growl that terrified me before he howled loudly. It wasn’t long after that, maybe ten minutes, before you arrived.” She took a shaky breath, it felt better to get it out. Not having to hide her crazy meant that they could lock her away and be done with it.

They were all three staring at her but it was Vesimer who spoke first. “Geralt’s guide is a white wolf.”

“Guide?” she asked.

“When you become a witcher you go through different trials,” Geralt explained. “Some witchers find spirit animals that help guide them on their tests. My animal was a white wolf.”

“It’s a rare thing for a witcher to have a spirit guide, it’s one of a few things that makes Geralt special among us. Geralt was destined for something more and we’ve always known that but we just don’t know what it is. It seems that you are destined to be a part of that too,” Vesimer told her.

“I noticed something when I met you but I didn’t think anything of it until now,” Triss said. “The way the two of you interact is different. He says something and you lower your head and bare your neck to him, other times you look like you want to argue but you can’t.”

Naurel’s face burned red as she tried to hide behind her hair. “He has this rumbling growl that makes me listen even when I don’t want to and this scent that will almost make me enthralled.” There, now her embarrassment was complete.

“I find myself drawn to her, even before I knew her,” Geralt continued. “I can’t stand for her to be out of my sight and I’m so protective of her that sometimes even friends touching her causes a reaction. She smells,” his eyes close, “like safety and home.” He looked at her, his pupils blown wide, “I fight the urge to mark her every second.”

Vesimer and Triss share a look before the sorceress goes to retrieve a book. “Geralt was injected with a mutagen that had wolf DNA in it. He picked up the aspects of the wolf,” Triss said as she handed them the book. “He is an alpha, the strongest in his pack and you my dear seem his mate.”

“What? No,” Naurel shook her head. “He already has a mate. He’s bound to Yennefer, not me. I came here so that one of you could free me from whatever magic binds us and he can be free of me.”

“I’m not bound to Yennefer,” Geralt growled.

“Did you not wish..” she argued but he cut her off.

“I made a fucking wish that our deaths be bound. She was trying to kill herself by becoming host to the Djinn. It's the only reason she agreed to help Jaskier to begin with. She thought he was the one with the wishes. When I came for him she was trying to capture the Djinn in her body, to become the vessel. A Djinn can not kill its master so I used the last wish to bind our deaths.”

“But you… after,” Naurel waved her hands as if to signify what she wasn’t saying.

“I couldn’t fucking sleep!” he roared like that explained everything. “I was tense and frustrated,” he growled.

“You slept with Yennefer too?” Triss asked, petulantly.

“You whore,” Naurel snapped. Triss gasped but then saw the woman was looking at Geralt and not her. “I guess you have a thing for witches!” She stood and started to walk out but he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

Geralt glared at Vesimer who was not even attempting to hide his laughter before turning back to Naurel. “That was years ago before I even knew who you were! You can’t judge me on my past.”

She really wanted to argue but realized he was right and it made her sort of angry because he was hers. Wait, where had that thought come from? “Fine but what are you going to do about Yennefer? She thinks you are mates.”

“I will talk with her,” he promises as he pulls her close and breathes in her scent.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

Wolf and flame tag list

[ashbye]

🌈Hey guyss! So I got bored and I ahd the realisation that I haven't written anything in a while. I also saw that my Geralt one shot was my most popular so far so I decided to write abother one for our lovely witcher. I have absolutley no plan for this at all so if this turns out a little blegh you know? Thats why. Anywho on with the story!

Home - Geralt x gn!Elf reader

It was early in the morning. No other sound to be heard but the crackling of the fire and the breeze swaying in the tall grass. You're standing in your kitchen, kneading dough for bread. You were entirely content listening to the wood crack in the fireplace.

Your mind was elsewhere when strong arms pulled you in. A smile crept onto your face as the heat of his body encased you. Geralt sighed softly into your neck, beginning to kiss the spots left as a reminder from the night before. "What are you doing my love?" You asked him. He laid his head on your shoulder and responded "Reveling in your beauty."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you went back to kneading the dough. "Is that so? I thought you were just trying to butter me up to get more bread." Geralt did his signature chuckle and tightened his arms around your waist. Once the dough was ready you were able to quickly slip out of Geralt's arms and bake the bread.

When you came back you found Geralt on the couch waiting for you. Just a few steps later and you were laying on his chest situating yourself. Once you had settled he started stroking the many intricate braids in your hair. You were happy he was back. It had been months since you last saw him. Geralt was out hunting monsters and gaining coin.

No matter how long he was away for he always made up for it. Whether it be cuddles, food, gifts, or a passionate night together, he never dissapointed. "I missed you." He said to you breaking the comfortable silence. You burrowed yourself deeper into his chest and breathed in his scent. "I'll take it you missed me too then." Geralt joked with a small smirk on his face. You hummed and nodded showcasing your approval of him being back home.

It was moments like these that you cherished the most. Moments like this with Geralt. No need for talking. Just silence. Just the two of you. It reminded you why you fell in love with him. Why you left the traditional elven ways to be with him. Of course you could fight almost as well as Geralt and could go on the hunts with him if you pleased. It's just that you didn't want to. Your favorite part of him was how domestic he could be. How gentle he was with you.

It gave you a warm feeling in your body. It wasn't an explosion of light as many explain it to be. It was just warmth, comfort. It felt like home. That was what you loved about your relationship so much. You could be anywhere. In Kaer Morhen or as far as Blaviken, you always felt at peace with him. Geralt brought you peace because he felt like home. It had not taken you long to realise that was just what he was for you.

Geralt could not help but feel the same. Utter adoration and love clouded his mind when he looked at you. It was not difficult for him to agree to come back. You were his safe place. His calm in the middle of chaos. Geralt felt a pull to go back to you, like a wolf to its den and pack. Neither of you could deny the warmth you felt with each other.

You both knew quickly that you wanted nothing more than that warmth on a cold night. It did not matter if there was food or a fire. You just wanted each other. You wanted the feeling of home and love and care.

And you found that in one another.

🌈Ok there you go I hope you enjoyed that! I had a good time writing it. Made me sad though because I'm very lonely. Anyway I love you all thank you so much for the likes, comments and requests! Yes I am still taking requests! Those things mean a lot to me so thank you! Have a good day or night get some food and water and finish your homework! Bye!

Witcher Masterlist here!

[kingthunder]

i have a new fic

Would you 🫵 like to read a Winter In Kaer Morhen fic where Jaskier bonds with all the wolf witchers and gives them each something they need, and they in turn each give them something he needs? Where our intrepid bard sleeps with Lambert, Eskel, and Geralt in turn and becomes part of the pack and then they all realize that four is better than two? Where the author wanted to write "Jaskier does Kaer Morhen" but then got a lot of feelings about it? Do you love men crying? Then I have the fic for you. ✨ A Little Company, ✨ updating now.

[eskel-loves-lilbleater]

Ahhhhh! I did it! I finally finished a short thing I started ages ago. Here's hoping it's not too crap and that it maybe reignites my writing. I have ideas and I have missed it!

It could have been longer but I thought I would stop while I was ahead and actually post it. Would be awesome if I actually manage to write more for it and other things! 💜💜💜

[lassieposting]

God though, reluctant single dad Vesemir. Vesemir who openly dislikes children, Vesemir who leaves a kid in the woods with the remains of his dead family even though he knows there's something else out there, Vesemir who refers to baby witchers as "abandoned little tragedies", Vesemir whose response to being told he's to teach them to fence is "Am I being punished?"

And suddenly he's the last wolf left. His whole pack is dead and he's got a litter of already-mutated pups to look after that won't get taken in anywhere else. He's completely responsible for the next generation, and children need so many things. He has to learn on the fly that it's not just feeding them and clothing them and teaching them to fight. It's getting up every night for Geralt's night terrors about the Trial and the Sacking, because he's five and he doesn't know how to self-soothe and nobody else is going to do it. It's watching Lambert hurt himself and the other boys in his rages, because he's so mad at the hand life dealt him and he doesn't know how to handle it, and having to figure out how to teach him to channel his anger some other way because that kind of blind fury will get him killed. It's answering a thousand and one "But why?" questions without putting a sword through Eskel because he wants to be good and that is a quality that needs nurturing even if it's annoying as fuck.

None of this is natural to him. He's not a kid person. He's grieving, too, for everyone he ever cared for and the trust he gave his father figure who betrayed him. He's sarcastic and impatient and he fucks up badly, so many times, with these lonely, traumatised little boys. He has to learn to apologise, and forgive, and love them even though he never wanted them to be his responsibility, even though they've basically taken his life from him - the adventuring, the monster-slaying, the coin and the women and the fame - because raising brats is a 24/7/365 job that keeps him tied to Kaer Morhen. He has to learn not to resent them for a life they didn't choose. He has to learn to make them feel like part of a family, because he can't afford to have them abandon Witchering at the first opportunity.

And somehow, it works. His pups grow up, and become Witchers themselves, and he sends them out into the world and breathes a sigh of relief every time one comes back safe. Grieves as best he can whenever one doesn't. Geralt makes him a grandfather, which is not something he ever thought he'd want even with a Witcher's long lifespan, but he loves the bones of that girl. He sees Geralt trying so hard to do better by Ciri than was ever done by him - he's not sure where the hell Geralt got that from, that soft streak that training never quite beat out of him - and the other boys rally round to help him raise his lion cub as a wolf so much faster than he thought they would, and he knows he did something right. And more than that, he's somehow managed to do away with some of the stigma the generations of Witchers before him passed down. Geralt isn't afraid to be gentle with Ciri. He's kind and understanding and supportive towards her, he has to be reminded not to prioritise her wellbeing over finding Leshen!Eskel, he's calm and patient and comforting when her trauma is playing up. It's such a far cry from the completely detached, "numbers game" attitude of the generations before Vesemir, and even from Vesemir's own attitude towards recruits as a young man. He's done exactly what his mentor asked him to do. He raised better, more scrupulous Witchers. He raised better men.

idk man I just have a lot of feelings about Vesemir after NOTW okay

[inexplicifics]

💛 (reunion kiss / relief) + Gweld/Serrit?

This is AWAU 'verse, well before Geralt calls the Schools together, and Serrit has not transitioned yet or even realized she wants to, so uses he/him pronouns.

Serrit has gotten used to seeing the Wolf every few months. It’s not regular as dwarf-made clockwork or anything, but somehow they run into each other at least twice or three times a year while out on the Path. It certainly has nothing to do with Serrit asking around about a redheaded Wolf Witcher with a startlingly cheerful demeanor, and Serrit has no idea if the Wolf does the same sort of thing. Probably he does. He certainly never seems terribly surprised when Serrit turns up.

But it’s been six months, and Serrit hasn’t seen hide nor red hair of his…occasional bedmate and hunting partner.

He goes south to Gorthur Gvaed for the winter feeling slightly unsettled. Not that he’d ever admit to that, nor to the reason. The Wolf is a good fuck and a good fighter, and that’s all there is to it.

He does ask around in the spring, though. Even drifts up into the lower reaches of Kaedwen - Wolf territory, where Vipers are not usually welcome - to see what there is to see. It’s just because the contracts are decent in that area, that’s all.

The contracts are decent, and Serrit makes decent money and even finds a merchant selling elf-made pigments that she hasn’t seen before, which means his sketchbook is even more colorful than usual when he makes it back to Gorthur Gvaed in the autumn. But there’s no word of a redheaded Wolf, either living or dead.

Serrit doesn’t actually care, of course. But he’s a little more irritable than usual that winter, and he wears himself out sparring against Ivar at least once a week, which is a lot more often than most people prefer going up against the Viper of Morgraig himself.

He doesn’t bother going up to Kaedwen in the spring. Cintra has plenty of monsters.

It also, he discovers somewhere in the middle of Litha, includes a certain redheaded Wolf he’d assumed was dead.

Gweld shows up in the middle of a really rather annoying bullvore fight - the damn thing is smarter than it ought to be, and keeps dodging - and demonstrates his usual trick of being exactly in the right place at the right time, so when the bullvore dodges Serrit’s attack it manages to walk right into Gweld’s, and once it’s wounded it’s not hard to finish off. Serrit even gets the killing blow.

And then he whirls and grabs Gweld by the collar of his armor and slams the Wolf against a tree. “What the hell,” he grits out, not entirely sure why he’s so angry but absolutely willing to gut the Wolf if he gives the wrong answer, whatever that might be.

Gweld blinks down at him for a moment, and then, bafflingly, smiles. “Ran afoul of a pack of bruxae on my way back to Kaer Morhen,” he says calmly, as if there’s not an angry Viper up in his face. “I won, obviously, but I also broke most of my ribs and all the bones in my right leg and foot.”

Serrit suppresses a wince. That’s a bad injury. Even for a Witcher, that’s almost always going to be fatal.

“One of my brothers found me and dragged me home, and I spent the whole winter recovering; wasn’t quite back to full strength in the spring, so Rennes assigned me as a trainer for a year.” Gweld smiles more broadly. “It was fun, but it’s good to be back on the Path. And good to see you again. I -”

Serrit kisses him to make him stop talking. He has a faint, worrisome feeling that if he actually hears whatever Gweld was about to say, it will change - something. Something Serrit isn’t ready to change, just yet.

Gweld makes a small startled noise and then huffs a soft laugh and takes Serrit’s face in his absurdly gentle hands and deepens the kiss, and when they part, he’s still smiling, but he doesn’t say anything at all.

(Or here on AO3!)

[dragonsandwolvesohmy]

A Lord by the name Jaskier

A collection of stories where Jaskier is in a position of nobility/power. Reverse Warlord AUs, if you will.

hooked by peaktotheocean.

Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, hadn't been expecting to see invading Witchers on his riverbanks. Nor had he anticipated being named king to serve the White Wolf. Unfortunately, those were just the start of his problems.

Long Live the King by stockholm_syndrom.

Geralt placed the crown on his head before kneeling at his side, and the weight of it felt heavy on Jaskier’s brow. Jaskier’s path to becoming king, takes place five years after the fall of Cintra.

My Lord, have mercy on me. By SunnyInTheSun

"Where are we? I'm not sure I visited this country before." Geralt's eyes drift to the castle not very far from the forest they were hiding for a few hours. He feels his breath accelerate but he doesn't have another option: they have to hide there. Cirilla needs to rest and it's not safe to travel further if they will not rest enough. "This is Letthenove. I have a friend there, he will help us." If Jaskier is there and he's lucky enough to not be thrown out after what he did. *  Geralt is traveling with Cirilla, trying to not be captured by the Nilfgaardian soldiers. He can't stop, he can't take a break and he can't think of anything else but take Cirilla to Kaer Morhen and let her be safe... until they find themselves on Letthenove. Geralt knows Cirilla needs to take a break and rest so he goes even if he's not sure if Jaskier wants to meet him after what he did. But what he finds when he knocks on the door is not Jaskier: is Julian Alfred Pankratz, Lord and Viscont of Letthenove. His bard is not the same anymore

Without you, I'm Stronger, I'm no Longer filled with Wonder by Jassy

Another post-mountain fic (such fertile grounds they gave us!) Jaskier's father dies and, having just been summarily told to fuck off by Geralt, Jaskier sees no reason not to take up the title of Count de Lettenhove. It all just kinda gains its own momentum from there.

Discovering Viscount Jaskier and His Lands by merthurlocked.

It begins with the bard leaving all he once knew behind, It starts when he discovers a certain witcher, It nearly ends when the witcher demands he leaves, It finishes when the two idiots find one another again, and learn how to stay. (Or post mountain, Geralt and Ciri are on the run when they discover Viscount Julian de Lettenhove's lands and find them to be a place of safety that neither want to leave.)

King by MaroonDragon

(Inspired by The Accidental Warlord and his Pack by Inexplicifics and by the song King from Florence and the Machine) After what happens on the mountains, Jaskier just wants a moment to lick his wounds. He doesn't want to sing about the White Wolf and his heroics. So he goes to the only place he can go where he's not expected to perform: Lettenhove. Unfortunately, going home means facing his past and his lingering claim to a title he does not want. Frustrated with the state of the world, with his life and what people expect of him as an Omega, Jaskier has had enough. Hell hath no fury like an Omega scorned. If you want something done, you better do it yourself. Jaskier is done singing about other people's heroics and hoping that they'll make the world a better place. Let them sing songs about him for a change. He's not a father. He's not a husband. He's a king.

This is a Warlord Jaskier AU by @jaskiersvalley here on Tumblr I thought should be included here.

Refuge in Lettenhove by Descarada

Geralt and Ciri are on the run from Nilfgaard. After a narrow escape from certain death, they seek refuge in a Lettenhove court. Geralt is shocked to find that the viscount, (and secret leader in the resistance) is none other than the man he scorned on the mountain. But Jaskier is acting as though he’s never met him before in his life. Is this is the chance Geralt needs to set things right?

the viscount & the hound by Kales and sheepishwolfy (this is one of my personal favorites)

How many Julian Pankratz could there be in all the world, let alone in Redania, let alone in Lettenhove? Even if he kicked Geralt out on his ear—and that would be his right, after the mountain, after all this time—even if he refused the witcher, Jaskier would shelter Ciri. Geralt knew it in his heart and his soul and his very bones. Jaskier would keep her safe, and get her to the other wolves, or to Yennefer. With winter swift approaching, and a scared, starving child to care for, a half-dead Geralt of Rivia has no choice but to seek aid from the last person who wants to give it: Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz.

Lettenhove times by Seiramallipop

Lettenhove, Jaskier's home, becomes a safe haven for all persecuted. This is a series of interconnecting small stories about different people ending up at Lettenhove and how they reacted to hospitality and niceness.

Of Witchers, Bards, and Broken Hearts by dhwty_writes

Six months have passed since Geralt and Ciri found each other. Since then, they have been on the run from... well, everyone, basically. Geralt is tired, Ciri is hungry, Roach is dead. And then they stumble across a very particular viscounty named Lettenhove. The problem? Geralt broke the Viscount’s heart on a mountain and Julian ‘Jaskier’ Alfred Pankratz, a bard, a friend, a lover, is slow to forgive.

Solace and Sanctuary by Igneum807 (Be warned this is part of a series, but this fic can be read as stand-alone.)

The people of Lettenhove listen to every song that Jaskier writes. He is their viscount, after all. The songs speak of witchers as heroes, as saviors, and the people believe them. When Eskel stumbles on the town in a desperate state, he discovers an unexpected safe haven in Jaskier's home and sets off a chain of events that quickly spirals into something powerful. Something the poets call destiny. The destiny of a manor and its people. Because after all these years, after all the hatred and the scorn, the witchers of Kaer Morhen have found a place to call home.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Aiden/Lambert angst

C/W character death

Aiden groaned, trying to simultaneously rub the sleep from his eyes and move his hair off his face. Crap, when had he fallen asleep?

Someone let out an amused huff next to him, "Mornin' Sunshine."

Aiden's breath left him in a shaky exhale as he flipped his body to fully face the other side of the bed.

"Lambert?"

"You expecting someone else?" He asked arching an eyebrow.

Aiden saw his cocky expression morph into one of concerned panic just before his vision started to blur.

"Oh shit, Aiden. Please don't cry."

Aiden didn't need to be able to see Lambert to know that the other would be looking like one of his own bombs was about to go off in his face. He could almost feel the heat from Lambert's hand as it hovered awkwardly in the vicinity of his shoulder. His Wolf never did know how to handle tears, from anybody.

"I'm sorry, Lambert. I'm so sorry!"

"For what? It's not like you're the one that pumped me full of venom."

"Which happened because you shoved me out the way! You stupid-" Aiden broke off as another sob shook his entire body, "You should have let me take the fucking hit."

"Like I was gonna do that. Besides, outcome would still be the same. Just reversed."

Aiden could hear the shrug. His sob turned into a snarl as the others nonchalants filled him with anger.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" He demanded, scrubbing furiously at his eyes to glare at the other, tears still falling, "This is all my fault. I know it, you know it. Your family-"

"Won't blame you." Lambert interrupted firmly, "They all know the life. Something like this was bound to happen eventually and Vesemir gave his word you're as much an honorary Wolf as Coen, remember?"

Aiden felt fingers ghost through the ends of his hair, "They won't punish you for something I did. Despite what people think I'm capable of thinking for myself and I don't regret it."

Aiden could only lie there and take in the others still haggard appearance as he continued playing with his hair. Golden eyes slightly sunken and surrounded by dark circles that had nothing to do with potions, skin too pale apart from the spider web disappearing under the neck of his tunic, showing the path of the manticores venom. More than anything, Aiden wanted to reach out to him but something was holding him in place, warning him the moment would be gone if he moved.

"Try and get some more sleep, you look about as good as I probably do right now. I promise it's going to be alright, Kitten. Just, don't cry over this again, it's not worth it. I'm alright, honestly. Nothing hurts anymore and I'm going to be right there with you. Please don't cry."

"Lambert, I.." The rest of the declaration drifted as Aiden's eyes suddenly felt incredibly heavy, drifting closed of their own accord.

The last thing he was aware of was Lambert giving that crooked grin he loved so much, "I know. You too. So damn much."

The pillow was damp when Aiden woke and he didn't need to check the other side of the bed to know it would be stone cold. He buried his nose into the soft, worn fabric of the tunic he'd tucked by his head, already dreading the day the scent would be truly gone.

It was some sort of cruel mockery that he could see the start of the mountain pass leading to Kaer Morhen from his window. He never thought it was a journey he'd have to make alone but Lambert's family needed to hear it from him rather than through gossip in the spring. They needed to know what had happened to their youngest Pup.

Part of him hoped Vesemir would disregard past claims and...what? Banish him, execute him? At this point he'd happily take anything the remaining Wolves saw fit to dish out. Penance for breaking his one promise to them.

"I promise I'll keep him safe."

Aiden couldn't put it off any longer and - if he were being honest with himself - he didn't want to. He grabbed his pack from by the door, hyper aware of the silver Wolf's head tucked away safely, ready to join it's brethren on the medallion tree. The thought caused a fresh wave of grief to wash over him, "Sorry, Lambert." He whispered, wiping his eyes quickly, but not quickly enough to stop a few tears falling.

It looked like this was to be a journey of broken promises.