WitcherSexual

I’m either Reading or Writing. They/Them

[agnew-writer]

Master List

My AO3 is WitcherSexual 

A couple of my fics!

Quarantine- 1/1, 5,652 words

Explicit, Jaskier/Eskel/Geralt/Lambert, Lambert/Aiden, Coën/Eskel. 

How Lambert Met his Husbands- 3/3, 18,889 words

Mature, Lambert/Coën, Lambert/Aiden, Lambert/Coën/Aiden. Heavily inspired by Ledgea’s The Witcher Grapevine.

Please find all my Tumblr rants and ideas at AgnewWrites

Under the line is a few of my other fics!

Geralt Fluff Week- 7/7, 11,648 words

Teen and Up, Geralt/Jaskier, Geralt/Eskel, Geralt/Lambert. 

I have a series for birthday fics that you can find here

I have a series for Kink Bingo fics that you can find here

Unfinished 

50 Shades of Slutty Jaskier Series- 14 works,  78,515 words

Our Bard is trying to navigate having a Pack of Witcher’s and the War that Nilfgaard is threatening.

[agnew-writer]

I would like to wish a (late) merry Christmas to @rebrandedslaps. You were my giftee for @thewitchersecretsanta and I hope you enjoy this!

Here you go!

[ladypharaoh14]

A black girl will be spending years in jail because she had a mental health crisis. PLEASE READ

Meet Saraya: she was experiencing a mental health crisis. Police came and tackled her. She is 15.

Saraya Rees is a 15 year old biracial girl from Coos County, Oregon. After being abruptly instructed to stop taking her antidepressants by a local pediatrician, Saraya went into psychosis. In her manic state, Saraya poured a small amount of gasoline on the floor. Her parents called Coos Health & Wellness in hope that that would send mental health advisors, Coos Health & Wellness sent the police. While still in psychosis, the officers arrested her, questioned her without her family or lawyers present, charged with attempted murder and assault, and sent her to juvenile prison for 11 years.

ELEVEN.YEARS.

This is not justice.

This is inhumane.

WHAT YOU CAN DO TO HELP:

1. Call these people and demand that she be let go to the custody in her parents.

Please call Governor Kate Brown and Senator Jeff Merkely.⁠

⁠

📞Governor Kate Brown: [phone]⁠

📞Senator Jeff Merkley: [phone]⁠

2. Sign the petition! 

http://chng.it/dPR59dnMzq

Please DO NOT donate to CHANGE.ORG, instead donate to Saraya’s gofundme. 

3. Follow @justice4saraya on instagram. You can find info on where to send her encouragement cards and get updated on progress.

4. SEND CARDS TO THE FOLLOWING (please also note card sending rules)

OAK CREEK CORRECTIONAL FACIILITY 

C/O SARAYA REES

4400 LOCHNER ROAD SE 

ALBANY, OR 97332

EDIT: PLEASE CONSIDER THESE RULES WHEN SENDING HER CARDS! The family has asked for the following when sending cards: 

-No vulgar language or cursing (she’s a child, afterall) 

-No stickers

-No metal 

- Do not use return address stickers

-No Cash

Using these things could mean Saraya doesn’t get your card. If you want to donate to the family during this very hard time, please use the GOFUND ME.

 https://www.gofundme.com/f/justice4saraya

You can also send her gifts for when she gets out to a PO BOX: 

SARAYA’S PO BOX

PO BOX 211

MYRTLE POINT, OR 97458

MENTAL ILLNESS IS NOT A CRIME. LET’S FREE OUR GIRL SARAYA!!!

Saraya’s website: https://www.justice4saraya.com/

[this-tragic-affair]

Charities/organisations to avoid:

PETA: They’d rather spend their money on publicity campaigns than on the animals in their care. PETA killed 73.8% of the animals in their care in 2015 (x)

FCKH8: Is a for-profit company that exploits oppressed groups for money. They’re also wildly uninformed, and spread misogyny, cissexism and bi/panphobia, as well as stealing their posts/designs (x)

Autism Speaks: They spend most of their money on researching a way to eliminate autism, heighten the stigma against autism and don’t have a single autistic person on their board (x)

Please support other, better charities, and feel free to add any others you can think of to this.

[tequila-tekaylah]

Susan G. Komen for the Cure: CEO makes insane amounts of money, they deny a lot of requests for wigs/help with treatment/etc., and have attempted to sue other charities that use the color pink as part of their anti-breast cancer campaign. ( x x x )

[reproductivejusticeandliberty]

The Salvation Army: They promote the hatred of LGBT+ people, work with fundamentalist Christian groups to support conservative politics and rip off and exploit workers. ( x x x )

[shitpost-senpai]

Wounded Warrior: They take money that should be spent on veterans and blow it on huge opulent parties for the company bigwigs. 26 million in 2014 alone wasted! ( x x x )

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

^ Important reminder to NOT waste any money donating to these groups

[ayellowbirds]

Reblogging because of the added info about Wounded Warrior.

[arch4ngel]

A good way to know if a nonprofit you’re donating to is allocating their money in the right way is to check out their Charity Navigator rating: http://www.charitynavigator.org

[darkbookworm13-deactivated20240]

Signal boosting, the bell ringers are out in force, and this info is too important.

[yogfan14]

Charity season is coming up in not even two months, so I feel like this is important to share now before it’s too late. 

[agnew-writer]

I like to do something good this season and it’s great to know what charities are best to avoid. Please remember to check where your donations go!

[moonlightcrazyphoenix]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher) Characters: Aiden (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Mutual Pining, Aiden gets hurt, But He Gets Better, Whump, Confessions, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Not Actually Unrequited Love Summary:

With a hunt gone horribly wrong, Lambert worries that he’s going to lose the person he cares for the most.

He manages to save Aiden, but can he survive nursing him back to health without confessing his feelings and ruining everything?

My Secret Santa Gift for @agnew-writer!  Merry Christmas!

@thewitchersecretsanta

[hailhailsatan]

Jaskier runs inside, sobbing, tears pouring down his face.

Jaskier: Geralt!

Jaskier sniffs in between each of his breaths.

Geralt, eyes wide and full of love: Sweetheart! What's the matter?

Jaskier: I- I- I-

Geralt puts his heavy hands on Jaskiers shoulders.

Geralt: Shhhh, calm down, what's wrong.

Jaskier: I fell. I was running outside and I fell and I cut my knee and it's bleeding and-

Geralt: Let me see. Come here darling.

Jaskier pulls his trouser leg up to reveal a nasty scrape. Geralt sucks air in through his teeth.

Geralt: I think you got a bad fright didn't you?

Geralt gets a cloth and cleans the wound, then goes into the cupboard. He gets a little, strange shaped bottle, filled with water and passes it to Jaskier.

Geralt: Here, drink this.

Jaskier drinks the liquid and continues his exagerated sniffs.

Jaskier: is this the special witcher stuff?

Geralt: Yes, you should feel much better soon little flower. Go and sit in the living room and I'll bring you chocolate.

Jaskier leaves the room. Geralt gets a fright as he hears a voice from the doorframe behind him.

Yennefer: You two make me sick. You make him worse you know, treating him like that. He has to learn to look after himself.

Geralt: HE'S MY LITTLE FLOWER AND HE NEEDS LOOKING AFTER.

[round--robin]

HE IS A LITTLE FLOWER AND DESERVES LOVE AND PROTECTION

[agnew-writer]

Robin is right and you should all know it

[round--robin]

I would love to see some Jambert being feral and in love! (No pressure, I know you are probably busy) <3

Very nice, I love some feral bard, and what’s better than a feral bar fight?

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

Lambert honestly couldn't say how it started. One minute, they were having a nice time, Jaskier was playing, raking in the coin to finance their trip up to Kaer Morhen, then suddenly it all went to shit. Food flying through the air along with fists and curses, Lambert already ducked three full pitchers of ale thrown at his head, and honestly, he didn't know why.

Dodging a sloppy, drunk punch, he nailed someone else in the gut, taking one more participant out of the bar fight as his eyes darted around for his bard. “Jaskier!” he shouted and ducked another flying plate. “Jaskier!” Fuck, he was the most brightly dressed person in places like this, how hard was it to locate a sky blue doublet?

Lambert's eyes scanned each corner of the room, expecting to find the bard cradling his lute, protecting it from any damage. In reality, he should've been watching the center of the fight where Jaskier used said lute to concuss three men in a row. The rip of silk drew Lambert's eyes to the center of the room. “Jaskier!”

Standing on the table, lute in one hand like a club, broken bottle in the other, a little blood dripped from Jaskier's slowly fattening lip. His doublet hung off him, torn and ruined, but Jaskier didn't seem to care. A feral growl broke from him and he jumped off the table, the heavy instrument coming down on yet another head. Lambert tried not to wince as he heard the very obvious crack of bones. Fuck, Geralt had warned him about this, but he didn't believe him! Don't leave Jaskier alone with a rowdy crowd, he gets... a little wild. The idea of his sweet little song bird getting any sort of wild outside of the bedroom was laughable, so Lambert didn't pay Geralt's warnings any mind.

He'd definitely listen next time.

“Jaskier!” he shouted and started pushing passed grappling bodies, trying to make his way towards Jaskier.

As he pushed and shoved, he tried to keep his eyes on Jaskier and, honestly, what Lambert saw was kind of beautiful. Blood dripping from the cut in his lip onto his shredded doublet, Jaskier's eyes were on fire, one lip curled back to bare his teeth. It was the most intimidating war face Lambert had ever seen outside of another Witcher. He'd met soldiers who couldn't pull that off as well as a soft, perfumed bard. Fuck.

Okay, walking through a fight with an erection, probably not the best idea, but as soon as his arms closed around Jaskier, it didn't matter. “Get the fuck—oh, Lambert! Hello, darling.”

Bloody and bruised, Jaskier still managed a smile for him, looking up at Lambert like he was the fucking moon. He didn't even glance away as another man rushed them, winging his lute back to hit him hard enough to definitely crack his skull. “Jaskier... what happened?”

He shrugged. “While you were getting a drink, some bastard said all Witchers should hang in the town square. Interrupted the chorus—rude—and was uncouth besides. I may have thrown my drink in his face, he's the one who took it out of hand!”

Lambert blinked, ducked a punch, kicked a guy in the stones, then looked back at Jaskier. “You started a bar brawl because someone was mean about Witchers?”

“No...” Jaskier turned, smacking yet another would-be attacker with his lute. “I threw a drink on a cretin who wasn't properly thankful for the service you just did his town.”

For a moment, the raucous shouting and sounds of broken plates around them dimmed. Lambert looked at Jaskier and felt a pang in his chest. He moved in close, his hand connecting with the man's jaw before he could lay a hand on the bard. “Jaskier,” he said, low enough so only Jaskier could hear him. “I fucking love you.”

Blue eyes sparkled in the light of the candles that had fallen to the floor, lighting the straw strewn around to cover spills. “I love you too, Lambert.”

He wasn't sure who moved first, him or Jaskier, but suddenly they were kissing and the rest of the world fell away. The copper tang of Jaskier's blood added to the heat between them. Jaskier had tasted Lambert's blood far too many times to count, and now he got to return the favor. The brawl raged around them but for all Lambert and Jaskier knew, it was a thousand miles away. They kissed like there was nothing better for them to be doing.

Then, they pulled apart and joined the fight anew. From then on, Witchers were welcome in that town, but bards named Jaskier most certainly were not.

[agnew-writer]

Robin it’s beautiful! I love this so much!

[seraphic-sapphic-safehaven]

Nonbinary people are allowed to use any pronouns they want.

Nonbinary people are allowed to present however they want no matter their assigned gender.

Nonbinary people are allowed to be fat.

Nonbinary people are allowed to have body hair and/or facial hair or no hair at all.

Nonbinary people are allowed to claim labels like gay, lesbian, WLW, MLM, queer, butch, and femme.

Nonbinary people are allowed to coin their own pronouns and genders if they can’t find other terms to accurately describe themselves.

Nonbinary people are allowed to call themselves nonbinary men and nonbinary women.

Nonbinary people are allowed to claim the trans label no matter if they get HRT and/or surgeries or not.

Nonbinary people are allowed to claim the nonbinary label whether they’re closeted or out.

Nonbinary people are allowed to call themselves nonbinary even if they keep their given name and/or pronouns.

Nonbinary people are allowed to get upset when people invalidate, exclude, misgender, and/or deadname them.

Nonbinary people are allowed to take pride in who they are.

Nonbinary people are allowed to love themselves just as they are.

Give nonbinary people the respect they deserve! Stop policing them and their genders, names, pronouns, labels, and bodies! No one but them gets a say in any of that; they know themselves best. There is no one way to be, look, or act nonbinary anyway! The nonbinary experience is a vast spectrum, and everyone in it deserves to be respected and recognized as valid and beautiful!!!!

[polyamsuggestion]

Hey! Could you reblog this if you are polyamorous or support polyamory? I’d like to get to know how many people are educated or identify as polyamorous xx

[theinformationdump]

Body Language Cheat Sheet for Writers

As described by Selnick’s article:

Author and doctor of clinical psychology Carolyn Kaufman has released a one-page body language cheat sheet of psychological “tells” (PDF link) fiction writers can use to dress their characters.

[lunarmoment]

Because I realize all my characters do is look at each other and have their eyebrows shoot up. Sometimes they even lower their eyebrows too!

[luidilovins]

im autistic so these are helpful outside of writing too.

[mcnuggyy]

i felt like there wasn’t enough polyam trio art memes so i decided to make my own <3 self indulgence be damned

❤️💛💙

( feel free to share and tag me in any of the cute art you make i would love to see!!! 🥺💕)

[octinary]

The Witcher Flash Fic Challenge: Halloween Special authors have been revealed!  Apparently the spooky nature of the prompt threw off our guessing skills since we didn’t do quite as well as we usually do:

@agnew-writer was correctly identified as the author of I shut my eyes and the whole world drops dead with 50% of guesses correct.

@major-trouble was correctly identified as the author of In Between Shadows with 33% of guesses correct.

@sternenstaub28 was correctly identified as the author of Of Witchers and Vampires with 50% of guesses correct.

@tumbleweedtech was correctly identified as the author of Shatter with 33% of guesses correct.

@witcherscrane was not identified as the author of Sirens Song.

@octinary was correctly identified as the author of Something Eternal with 33% of guesses correct.

@impsane was correctly identified as the author of The Storyteller with 33% of guesses correct.

@bitcher-of-blaviken was not identified as the author of Warm Enough.

@geralt-loves-jaskier was not identified as the author of What hides in the woods.

@kyokotsukuyomi was not identified as the author of Whether you like it or not.

Only 6 out of 10 right!  Hopefully we do better next time.  The next challenge is in two weeks!

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Hi, I'm nice anon again 💙 I feel awful asking for something, especially since your prompts are closed and you already write so much for us and take so many prompts. I just. Well. Only if you have a little time in the future and you really want to, I would love Lambert going through a rough patch and someone comforting him/listening to him/cuddling him and making him feel loved and supported, even if he insists he's okay and rebels furiously against it at first. Maybe wolf pack? (With or without bard). Yeah... I may be projecting a lot. BUT listen, ONLY when you are free and ONLY if you want to, I promise I LOVE your writing in any shape or form and I find it super comforting already, so you don't have to add anything to your schedule for me, I'm not going to be disappointed at all if you don't do this. You are an amazing, generous human being and I'm so glad I found your blog. Best of wishes 💙

Hey! Never worry about asking for things and reaching out. Projecting on characters is also fine; they’re fictional. Fiction is a great way to work through things and issues that trouble you; to mould the characters into shapes that resonate with you. Writing, reading, daydreaming, projecting; it’s the cheapest therapy out here. That’s what fandom’s for! I hope this helps...

Lambert struggles in the first month following the Grasses...

Lambert fiddled with the yarn between his fingers and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. Since the Trial  barely a month ago, he hadn’t felt right. Not surprising. His entire body had been broken down and reshaped into this… thing. This thing he didn’t recognise when he looked in the mirror. Two bloodshot yellow eyes squinted back from the face of a monster.

The snows seemed to swallow the valley the second he was able to walk again. His limbs felt permanently numb, the cold seeping through the thickest furs he managed to scrounge from the equipment stores. It was as if winter itself lived inside his skin. With the ice and snow came longer nights and shorter days. Lambert couldn’t even bear to look at the sun when it was up; his pupils fluttered, his eyes stung, and he found himself skulking into the shadows, looking at the floor.

When the few remaining boys from his year tried to extend comfort—yeah, we feel rough too, it’ll pass though, the older boys said it’ll pass—he snapped at them angrily and stormed away. What the fuck did they know? They were as lost as he was. A mutant freak. Noone actually cared.

Not even training provided an outlet for the roiling frustration and misery, and one afternoon he simply threw the wooden training sword into the dirt, returning to the keep with his fists clenched and his shoulders bunched. 

The instructors gave some leeway to the freshly ‘turned’, but Lambert knew he wouldn’t be allowed to wallow in this cesspit of rotten emotion for long. Witchers weren’t meant to feel, after all. Maybe this was that. The numbness creeping in. The mutations taking hold. Lambert sat on his bunk with his back to the window, pulled his knees to his chest, chin tucked into the narrow valley between them, and stared at the wall. 

Should he be crying? Isn’t that what people did when they felt miserable? Yet his eyes remained dry, wide, visionless as he burrowed deep into the back of his head. 

One of the instructors—Barmin, by the smell of clove and smoke that followed him around like a haze—left some food at the foot of the bed when the sun set, but Lambert ignored it. What was the point? His stupid fucking Witcher body probably didn’t need to eat now anyway. He didn’t need food, didn’t need the instructors, or his classmates. Witchers walked alone. Forever. Until a monster ripped their throats out and left them bleeding in the wilderness. Noone would care if he died now, then. He was on his own. This was what true loneliness felt like.

The next person that entered the room made him look up. Warm honey, freshly fallen snow and an eclectic collection of herbs probably still clinging to his fingers. “Eskel?” He was closely followed by another, his scent softer. Geralt. Lambert’s shoulders tensed. “What do you two jokers want?” When they operated together like this, there was no telling what they were up to. 

Neither spoke but took up position either side of him on the narrow cot. The dormitory was empty but for Lambert, with the rest of the cohort in the grand hall for yet another mealtime he’d missed. They sat in silence for a bit, shoulder to shoulder, crowding Lambert on either side with broad chests and thick arms. The wisecrack bubbled in the back of his throat, but faded when a new feeling crept up on him…

A feeling. In the sea of numb misery. It was small, barely there, like thin, spidering cracks through the ancient stone walls around them. Without thinking, Lambert reached out and gripped Eskel’s wrist. It was like grasping a warm tankard in freezing hands. Life. Sensation again.

Eskel tilted his head, matching amber eyes soft in the dim light of the candles on the beaten old nightstand. When Lambert’s other hand reached out for Geralt, settling tentatively over the back of his hand, the White Wolf looked across too. A moment of stillness, and then strong arms folded around Lambert’s smaller frame to hold him tightly. A shuddering, tearless sob ripped out of his chest, but he bit it back, turning his face into Eskel’s grey shirt and gripping Geralt’s hand tightly where it rested on his bicep.

The numbness shattered. The feelings burned. Acute, painful. Anger, betrayal, helplessness. But here, with Eskel and Geralt, he at least felt safe enough to face them, even if just for a moment. He shook in their arms, eyes scrunched closed, refusing to cry. They wouldn’t tease him about this. Their japes and fuckwittery would focus on something more innocuous, less raw. 

Because they both remembered what it was like in the first few months. To have everything you knew yourself to be ripped from you, to be reforged, to have all the doors slammed shut but one. The one that led to the Path. Those first few weeks as a Witcher were the hardest. And doing it alone? Impossible.

But Lambert wasn’t alone, not really. Geralt and Eskel would always be there to hold him up, even when he tried to push them away.

For Witchers were lone hunters, but even a lone hunter can use a helping hand now and then.

[theinturnetexplorer]

A Real Hero

[takashi0]

This is some John Henry shit right here.

[afrikangyal-deactivated20190204]

wow

[pinkcheesegreenghost-deactivate]

Dashrath Manjhi

[combustednocturne]

There’s a movie made from his story, you guys can check it out.  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3449292/

[alwaysbewoke]

THIS IS WHO I WANT MY KIDS TO LEARN ABOUT IN SCHOOL!! NOT FUCKING CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS!!

Amazing!!

[warriormale]

This is some powerful story of belief put into action.

WarriorMale

[agnew-writer]

Just hold me a little tighter.

Jaskier wandered the cold corridors of Kaer Morhen; his steps heavy on the grey stone, he couldn’t sleep. The day had passed like all other days, they had food, he watched them train and joined in sometimes, they worked on repairs and then they settled in for a game of Gwent or a nice book. The same routine that they had every year he came, yet like every year he had an itch. One that only came deep into winter as the passes closed and the isolation felt truly real. His fingers wanted to strum, his voice wanted to scream out and let the world know he was still there, but he didn’t. His wolves were haunted by their own screams in the halls, he didn’t want to add his into the mix. So instead of screaming he walked, he walked until morning, and when they questioned him he shrugged and said he was thinking. 

His skin felt like insects were crawling everywhere, ones that he couldn’t scratch off no matter how hard he tried.

He came to a stop at the bottom of a set of stairs, broken but still usable, he set up to climb them as best he could, stopping at the end and sitting down as he faced the window and watched the snow fall. It was silent, the white blanket cushioning the world around them, it made everything look softer. 

He watched as the sky lit up, the darkness being chased away by the morning, and he sighed before he started on his walk back to the main part of the keep. His feet heavy against the floor like before. He didn’t bother heading to the room first, he knew his wolves would be up and eating their first meal of the day, so he turned right into the kitchen and smiled at them all. 

Vesemir was sitting with a book and porridge, ignoring the three younger wolves who were throwing food at each other and laughing, it was what Jaskier always wanted. He still felt like he was missing something, just one thing that he couldn’t name, he sighed, resigned to ignoring the thing again and he settled beside Vesemir who raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything before pushing some food over to him. 

“Bird where did you go last night? You were keeping me warm.” Jaskier looked up to Lambert and shrugged, the same answer he gave every time and the others knew they wouldn’t get anything from him so they left it. 

“It’s a day off today, the storm is getting too bad to go out in.” Vesemir spoke gently, the tone finally and no one argued, but Jaskier perked up at the idea of having everyone inside with him, he liked a day off, they were all around to cuddle and hold him for a while. 

“Can we cuddle at the fire?” Jaskier looked between them all, and he grinned as they all nodded -- even Vesemir did -- and Jaskier ate some food before giving up and pressing closer to Vesemir. 

“Yes little one?” Jaskier flushed at the name and Vesemir dropped a hand to his side to pull him closer. 

“Nothing, I’m cold.” He knew that the other’s could smell his lie but no one called him out on it when Vesemir moved to give him an easier time climbing into his lap. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome little one,” Jaskier pressed his head close to Vesemir’s neck and let the older man’s heat warm him up as they both read the book in his hands, the three witcher’s in front of them were watching carefully. Vesemir turned the page and Jaskier leaned up to kiss his jaw gently before reading the next pages with him, they stayed like that for maybe an hour until Lambert finally gave up and stood, picking Jaskier up from Vesemir’s lap and dropping him on the rug beside the fire. 

“There, now Birdy you can keep me warm again,” Jaskier melted as Lambert pulled him onto his lap and pressed a kiss to his head. 

“I like keeping you warm.” He turned around as best he could, kissing Lambert gently and letting the witcher take the lead before two other bodies were pressing into his sides. He pulled away from Lambert for a second to look at Eskel and Geralt with a smile and kiss each, “Hiya,”

“Hello Lark,” Jaskier shivered at the deep raspy tone of Geralt’s voice and laughed when the Wolf gently bit into his exposed neck. 

“Missed you Darling,” Eskel whispered into his ear and Jaskier hummed as Eskel peppered kisses along his jawline. 

“I left for a night my Wolves.” He heard movement from the seat beside them all and turned to see Vesemir with his book again, “How do you cope during the year?”

“We don’t. We miss you so fucking much,” Lambert pulled him back into another kiss as Eskel and Geralt leaned into him again, keeping him warm from both sides. “Now cuddle me and let me hold you,”

“I would never say no to that my sweet,” Jaskier let the three of them move him around until he was lying across all three of them; Geralt at his feet, Eskel with his back in his legs and Lambert with his head in his lap, and Vesemir moved onto the floor and settled on the other side of them all. 

They stayed like that during the day, one of them always petting part of his body at all times, Vesemir feeding him as he sat in his lap for meals and then they all fell back onto the furs before they fell asleep cuddled close to the other. 

Jaskier’s scratch to scream never left but it did quiet down when he had his Wolves around him, happy to hold and just love him endlessly. The wind howled outside as the storm blew past, but their little family was safe in the walls of Kaer Morhen. 

[agnew-writer]

Update!

An update to my @sordidsaovine story! Chapter Eight can be read here!

[blackvulva-deactivated20150627]

It’s my business when men are forcing their girlfriends into anal sex. It’s my business when women are getting surgeries on their labia and breasts so they can look like model’s in playboy, its my business because young girls are being forced to act out porn scenes with their first boyfriends in case their boyfriends leave them or stop thinking that they’re hot, it’s my business when men are so gorged on porn they think a woman who doesn’t send nude pictures is weird, its my business when men are taking up-skirt photos and groping women, it’s my business when women are being forced to have sex without condoms so that it will feel better ‘for men’, because there are no condoms in porn scenes, its my business when women are lying and faking their orgasms because porn has taught men that sex is about THEIR pleasure, and that sex is just endlessly pumping their dick into a woman over and over again, it’s my business when I can’t look up anything on the internet without coming across advertisements for porn, its my business when I can’t look up any information on my sexual orientation without being overrun by porn even with the safe search on. Its my business, its my business, its my fucking business.