#whitewolfiisms

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Chicken

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The moon hung overhead like a puncture in the sky. Water lapped at the shore, rolling over his thighs, soaking through his clothes to the bone. On his tongue: salt. In his lungs: brine. He could still feel her mouth on his bleeding lips, biting his jaw, and breath hitching, he remembered her humming, nightmare sweet, as her tongue ran against the trembling pulse in his neck before she sighed, breathed, and swallowed it whole. It felt like ages ago. And just a minute.

Suddenly, a sound from behind. She’s back? Badulf lied uselessly in the water, sprawled and desperate in the shallow shore. His voice stumbled out of his throat.

“What? What now? I am tired of water, you must know; I can’t breathe in it. Not like you. I've no swimmimg left in me. None. You'll-- You'll have to kiss me here."

Snow: aklskskj I FUCKIN HE'S REGRETING THIS

Crow:THERE'S NO OUTLIVING.UR STUCK.F O R E V E R. x number of years later when Geralt's world has reached modernized things like computers and the internet and cell phones hasn't spoken to each other in like...two years. Geralt's phone randomly going off at 3am and all it is, is a picture of a crab

Snow: OH MY GOD I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING

Crow: and and and and 'I named him Geralt'

Snow: GERALT JUST: THIS WAS CENTURIES AGO, STOP THIS MADNESS

Crow: L: TL;DR Gotta go walk Geralt

Snow: geralt just......how do you walk a crab? how does that work? geralt also: should i be offended you named a crab after me or flattered??

Crow: LOL Geralt's stopping by one day Luka still has the crab...has gotten a huge aquarium for it. beach space and rigged the water to constantly move. wee crab living like a king

Snow: geralt: they call me the butcher of of blaviken and THIS IS WHAT I'M REMEMBERED FOR

Crow: DYING. cute little letter on the size of his tank

Snow: geralt: why is the crab living like a king. why am i not living like a king

Crow: spelling out 'Geralt's Beach'

Snow: I'M DYING

Crow: NEVER GOING AWAY

Snow: I'M CRYING GERALT OWNS A VINEYARD JUST PICTURE

ONE DAY HE COMES HOME AND THERE'S A LIL TANK IN IT WITH SOME CRABS

Crow: with a note 'Geralt turned out to be Geralla congrats ur a dad' and a cigar attached to the bottom

Snow: IT GOT BETTER

Crow: Geralt at some point probably: i really hate that man.

Snow: geralt: lets the crabs DIE

Crow: oh no that's so sad G WHHYYY they're baby innocents

Snow: BECAUSE HE'S NEVER HOME he has someone that takes care of the place tho geralt: hopes they die, vineyard caretaker makes sure they lives: DAMN IT

Crow: LAWLS YES. however many years later random text at two am

Snow: geralt: i'm not even checking that. i know it's luka

five seconds later checks the text

Crow: "I regret to inform you Geralla died peacefully in her sleep. The funeral will be tomorrow on -name of beach here-. "

Snow: OHH MY GOD geralt: good fucking riddance

It could be considered a miracle that the Witcher had agreed to go on a date at all, let alone through the charming city of Beauclair whereat the Duchess Anna Henrietta promised he might have a night of freedom with. Pity the diplomat didn’t quite say with who. It’s why many would consider it something of a surprise when Noctis appeared to be waiting in the town square for the infamous Butcher of Balviken himself. He contented himself with people-watching until the Witcher himself finally came into view, the smugness irritatingly palpable on the dhampir’s countenance now.

“Huh, you clean up nice, Gerry--for a guy usually pelted in viscera and blood.”

Many things were found in Kaer Morhen, but a white kitten was definitely not one of them. So when the tiny feline ran towards him and bumped his head against Eskel's leg, the witcher smiled slightly, trying to grab him but the little kitty ran away before he could. "Hey, where are you going? You're going to get lost..." He called for the kitten, afraid that the little animal would get lost in the countless hallways around the crumbled castle.

            ❛   he doesn’t ------know anything.   ❜

     the words are spoken in a tone of curious wonder mixed with disappointment as she lets the magic fade from her fingertips, relieving the man of the torture she’d put him through. they’d reached a dead end, in this, the one lead they’d found regarding the recent deaths of several magic users in town. the witcher had offered his assistance ( returning a favor, he’d said ), and yet the two of them had come up empty in the end. turning toward geralt with a sigh, triss shakes her head, brow furrowed in confusion. 

@whitewolfiisms

“What are you doing? Get off of me.”

@whitewolfiisms

Noctis’ lips can’t help but curve in a lazy smile through his false repose, doing little to fight the amusement that donned upon his features. Perching his chin on the Witcher’s shoulder, a lazily lidded eye cracks open. The smile present is impish, and shamelessly so.