#tw3 fic

[caffeinatedmunchkin]

"Eskel runs , legs carrying him as powerfully and freely as the wind whipping through the trees. His vision narrows, tracking the faintest impressions in the ground that you leave in your wake. (...) He gives chase, breathing easy and deep as he vaults over a fallen log. Around him, the forest whispers and hums, a soft blue light casting strange shadows over the woods. “Eskel!” you cry, a giggle evident in your tone. “Come find me!” (...) He catches an elbow here, a peek of a collarbone there. He can smell you though, fresh as rainfall and delicate as rosebuds. He trusts his instincts as he follows, knowing they will carry him to wherever you are. It’s a game to you, ducking and weaving through the brambles and brush, always a step ahead of him. Your laughter echoes through the forest. Eskel strikes quickly, snaring your upper arm in his grasp, a grunt of victory caught in his throat. (...) He meets your gaze. Emerald eyes, shining brilliantly in the odd light. It’s all he can see, his field of view reduced to your shocking irises, with thick black lashes fanning your lids, blinking at him slowly – with fondness. It's only then that he feels out of breath."

Excerpt from The Last Dance by @emo-elysium Chapter 3: “Pops’ Mold Antidote”

{Read it now! - AO3 & Tumblr}

[advena87]

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

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Lambert/Keira Metz, Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Aiden/Lambert/Keira Metz Characters: Lambert (The Witcher), Aiden (The Witcher), Keira Metz, Eskel (The Witcher), Triss Merigold, Bertram Tauler | Jad Karadin, Original Characters Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Love Triangles, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), The Witcher 3 Spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence, Bisexual Lambert (The Witcher), Aiden (The Witcher) Lives, Not Beta Read

Chapter 4 summary:

Aiden’s return forces Lambert to face what he’s spent years burying, while Keira is chasing answers of her own, determined to solve a puzzle that demands more from her than she’s willing to admit. And if there’s one thing Lambert knows, it’s that when sorceresses start making deals in the dark, trouble is never far behind.

___________________________________________

 Aiden’s return had turned everything upside down. What they’d shared before—before Karadin had decided to fuck it up—had never been defined. But it didn’t need to be. It had been raw, intense, and vital in a way Lambert couldn’t put into words, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.

 Witchers weren’t taught to name their feelings, let alone express or manage them. Quite the opposite. Every school—no matter its methods—drilled the same lessons into their recruits: feelings were a weakness. A distraction. Better to bury them. Forget them. Feel nothing. The less you feel, the better a hunter you are, and the better you hunt, the longer you live.

 And sometimes, that worked. They said some witchers genuinely felt nothing. But for every one of them, there were dozens who weren’t hollow at all—witchers who felt everything too sharply, too painfully. And because they were never taught how to handle it, became dangerously unstable. Or worse, unable to read their own situation or the intentions of others, which could be deadly for them.

 Of course, the experience taught them fast enough when to trust and when not to, but even the oldest veterans, who’d seen it all and been burned more than once, still felt that emptiness. That hunger for something more.

 That’s why Lambert had never been able to define his bond with Aiden, but he knew that Aiden’s presence had filled that emotional void in a way nothing else had. It was as if some missing piece had finally clicked into place. And the best part? He didn’t have to explain it. He didn’t need words he didn’t have. Aiden just knew. He’d always known exactly what it was like.

 When he lost him, anger became Lambert's refuge. It was the only emotion he knew that didn’t leave him vulnerable, the only one sharp enough to keep the grief at bay. Fury pushed him forward, and gave him purpose, while sorrow? That was a slow poison, draining his strength. He’d thought vengeance might fill the void—killing the bastards who’d taken Aiden, recovering his swords—but it hadn’t. Neither had drowning himself in bottles until the world blurred. The emptiness lingered, gnawing at him with a quiet ferocity he couldn’t shake.

 It wasn’t until he met Keira that something shifted.

 Lambert never trusted sorceresses. Too many had danced around Geralt, weaving their webs of lies and manipulation, for him to think they were anything but trouble. They were proud, selfish, and maddeningly calculating—the kind of people who lit a short fuse in Lambert every damn time. And yet, Keira Metz had come to him, bluntly stating what she wanted. She was selfish, argumentative, and wildly ambitious, no doubt about that, but at least she didn’t try to pretend otherwise. She amused him, intrigued him even, but what really sold him on the arrangement was how clear she had been from the start: fun and a few samples for her experiments, nothing more.

 He could respect that. Hell, he could even appreciate it.

 And besides, he owed her. She’d saved his life during the fight with the Wild Hunt, and the debt still sat heavy on his conscience. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, anyway. His world was unraveling, thread by thread. Vesemir was gone, and with both Geralt and Eskel deciding to leave Kaer Morhen for good, there wasn’t much left of his old life to cling to.

 So, when Keira offered him something—anything—Lambert figured, why not? He had nothing left to lose and, if nothing else, the sorceress knew how to keep things interesting.

 He hadn’t even noticed when Keira began to fill the void left by Aiden. He liked her company—her fiery spirit, her sharp tongue, even the way she fussed over him. Though he’d sooner swallow his tongue than admit it. For the first time since Aiden’s death, he’d dared to think that maybe, just maybe, life didn’t have to be completely terrible for a witcher.

 He wasn’t stupid enough to make plans, though. Life had a way of spitting in the face of optimism. Witcher's luck was notoriously rotten, and he figured his recent good fortune would run out sooner rather than later. He just hadn’t expected it to blow up in his face like this.

Read more on AO3

[elleinmotion]

ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴀ ꜰᴏʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʀᴋ

ᴀ ᴄɪʀɪᴠʀᴀɴ ꜰɪᴄ

ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜꜱ / ᴡɪᴘ

ᴡᴏʀᴅᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ / 82,121

ᴄɪʀɪʟʟᴀ ꜰɪᴏɴᴀ ᴇʟᴇɴ ʀɪᴀɴɴᴏɴ/ᴍᴏʀᴠʀᴀɴ ᴠᴏᴏʀʜɪꜱ

ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ / 6.6.2025

ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ / ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ / ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʜᴇʀ ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄɪʀɪ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴇʟᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛɪᴇ ᴜᴘ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴇɴᴅꜱ: ꜱʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴄʀᴏɴᴇ, ꜱᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀɴ ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ.

ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ / LATEST CHAPTEƦ (CHAPTEƦ 21: ᴅᴀᴡɴɪɴɢ)

[unbury-the-gays]

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

Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Prince Adrien/Kiyan (The Witcher) Characters: Kiyan (The Witcher), Prince Adrien (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Modren Au, Artist/Muse, Painting, Rare Pairings, Fade to Black, Lack of Communication, Miscommunication, mention of suicidal thoughts, Not Beta Read

Summary:

When Kiyan’s evening is interrupted by a late client, he expects nothing more than a frustrating delay. But Adrien Moskovitz, impeccably dressed and exuding a mix of arrogance and charm, quickly proves to be anything but ordinary. Despite Kiyan’s cold reception and strict rules, Adrien's presence, accompanied by an unsettlingly self-assured smirk, stirs curiosity and irritation. Kiyan must navigate the complexities of working with a wealthy yet provocative patron, as Adrien’s casual demeanor and sharp wit clash with Kiyan’s strict professionalism.

[softnoblecyno]

And I Promised Myself I Wouldn’t Let You Complete Me

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Dettlaff van der Eretein Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Multiple Orgasms, Mildly Dubious Consent, (described in endnotes), Anal Fingering, Masturbation, Voyeurism, (kinda), Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Spoilers for Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC), Alpha Dettlaff van der Eretein, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, (sorta) - Freeform, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Blood Drinking, Smut, Fluff, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Hand Jobs, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Accidental Bonding, Awkward Sexual Situations, in the form of sex talks jasdk;lgj, poor Regis, Light Dom/sub, Mating Bond, Mating Bites, Nervous Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Light Angst, Some Humor

also on ao3

Dettlaff lurches forward and Geralt has hardly processed the motion when Syanna disappears with a scattering of petals taking her place, suspended in the air and floating slowly down. “Hah,” the vampire says, “Seems I’ve been fooled again.” He swipes savagely at the petals with his horrific claws as if it will bring Syanna back in front of him, there to impale like that will fix anything at all. When he looks up next he has shifted into his vampiric form, well and truly enraged. “She will pay for this. Sooner or later, she will pay!” His voice is low and raspy and monstrous. It’s clearly difficult for him to speak in Common like this.

Geralt tenses at the way he whirls on him and Regis, at the aggression in Dettlaff’s voice. He reaches for his sword, adrenaline starting to pump through his veins. If not for the ribbon, clearly some sort of magical artifact that’s laying on the ground where Syanna had stood, Syanna would be dead . He was hired to protect her. And, even more important in this very moment, he needs to protect himself and Regis. Even so, he’s stopped from drawing his weapon by Regis’s hand on his arm. Regis gives him a pleading look, and Geralt is helpless not to listen.

“Dettlaff,” the vampire pleads, “killing Syanna will only make things worse for you. Please, my friend, listen to what we have to say.” He sounds so very desperate. Geralt is reminded, at that, how Regis will be forced to choose between the two of them, should they fight. He feels for Regis— a decision like that would tear him apart. But at the same time… it makes him wonder.

Dettlaff shouts, “You shouldn’t have meddled, witcher! You never should’ve meddled!” and lunges.

Every one of Geralt’s muscles coil tight, preparing to defend against whatever Dettlaff levels at them, and yet his mind wanders to what Regis will have to go through. He’ll have to fight Dettlaff with Geralt, or Geralt will have to fight him , and neither option sits well with Geralt. In the quickly passing moments he has to consider his options, he remembers something that Syanna mentioned to him in The Land Of a Thousand Fables.

He jumps back so that Dettlaff’s first two blindingly fast swipes miss. “Alpha!” His voice comes out as a yelp in his battle-induced panic. Around him, both of the vampires falter at what he’s said. Regis freezes at his side. Dettlaff’s arms drop a fraction and he gives Geralt a very odd look indeed. Geralt can’t make it out. “Don’t do this,” he adds in the lull.

Dettlaff reacts faster than Geralt could possibly dodge or say anything more. The vampire jolts forward so rapidly that even the witcher’s enhanced eyes have troubles seeing him. Dettlaff’s palms land hard against the front of Geralt’s shoulders and slam him into the crumbling stone wall of Tesham Mutna. Pebbles and a few larger chunks of rock tumble to the ground around them, the sound of them clattering to the ground drowning out Geralt’s pained grunt. He can see Regis step forward from the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t intervene. A short bolt of fear runs through Geralt before he manages to tamp it down. Dettlaff growls, hardly an inch from his face, “What makes you think you can call me that?” His voice is low and furious, rumbling and deep in a way that reverberates through Geralt’s chest and makes his heart pound faster. Still, his fear assuages at the fact that Dettlaff hasn’t struck him yet. He certainly didn’t give Syanna a chance to defend herself. He’s still in beast form, however. His gaze is dark, icy blue eyes clearly enraged. His mouth is dropped open, fangs clearly on display, shining even in the dim night light.

His stare is intense. It pins Geralt to the wall, even further than he already is, roots him in his spot so thoroughly that he doesn’t even try to fight Dettlaff’s hold. For a long moment Geralt finds he can’t look away. By the time he feels he could look away, he doesn’t want to. He swallows. Solving this situation nonviolently is ideal for everyone involved. This strategy appears to be working, at least. Dettlaff was about to gut him mere seconds ago, but now he’s just… pinning him bodily against a wall and leveling him with a very intense look. And while that may not be perfect, it’s not exactly violent in nature, either. Geralt can’t decide what it is. No matter what, it’s an improvement from before.

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying, Dettlaff, please.” Regis begs, still panicked. He takes a step forward, but still doesn’t get close enough to truly stop anything. Maybe this isn’t the solution that Geralt viewed it as, given Regis’s fear— however blood has yet to be shed. That makes it good enough in his books. Dettlaff tilts his head to the side as he listens to Regis, his eyes drifting to the side. Geralt watches his nose twitch in anger, and thinks, Fuck it, might as well go all in.

read the rest on ao3!

[unbury-the-gays]

DREAM by Advena87 & Gavilan

Chapters: 1/2

Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Prince Adrien/Kiyan (The Witcher)

Characters: Kiyan (The Witcher), Prince Adrien (The Witcher)

Additional Tags: Unbury The Gays, Rare PairingsPost-PossessionPost-Quest: Cat School Gear Scavenger Hunt (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt), Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), Soft Witchers (The Witcher), Witchers Need Hugs (The Witcher), Emotionally Constipated Witchers (The Witcher), I Shook A Witcher And Intergenerational Trauma Fell Out (The Witcher), sort of established relationship, Main Character(s) of Color, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sleeping Together, Saovine (The Witcher), Alive Kiyan (The Witcher), Halloween Special

Series: Part 4 of Unbury The Gays

Summary:

Two years after Kiyan's rescue, the nightmares weren’t as vivid and painful as they had been in the beginning, especially with Adrien’s calming, familiar scent and warmth beside him. Calming, that is, except the nights that Adrien also suffered nightmares of his own.

Soavine was approaching, the nights were growing longer and colder, and Adrien's nightmares more frequent. The prince still didn't want to talk about them, and Kiyan didn't know how to break the standstill. He wanted to help him, but there was nothing he could do but hold him in his arms.

____________________

Here's a little surprise for Halloween! Yeah, I know we have a lot of other fics waiting to be finished, but this story has been sitting in my head for a while, blocking others. I decided to give it a chance, and although I was not happy with the result, I passed it on to @gavilansblog capable and caring hands. And her work (as always) worked wonders here.

The whole thing has two parts, and the second part will be posted as soon as Gav finishes editing. I drew the cover art myself, and the coloring went wrong. The colors are fucked up here because I tried to save the whole thing with filters and it is a bit better, but as I mentioned - the colors are all wrong. Well, I guess you can't have everything. :) On Tumblr we have a new Fanfic Ask - this time for the askers. So you are the ones who answer the questions and if you have a moment to answer even one of them, we will be delighted! And as always please let us know in the comments how you like our project so far. We will be glad to hear from you! <3 A.

Read on AO3

[unbury-the-gays]

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

Chapters: 5/7

Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Prince Adrien/Kiyan (The Witcher)

Characters: Kiyan (The Witcher), Prince Adrien (The Witcher), Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character(s) of Color, Original Female Character(s), Mention of various canonical characters

Additional Tags: Unbury The Gays, Rare Pairings, Post-Possession, Post-Quest: Cat School Gear Scavenger Hunt (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt), Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), I Shook A Witcher And Intergenerational Trauma Fell Out (The Witcher), Witchers Need Hugs (The Witcher), Emotionally Constipated Witchers (The Witcher), sort of established relationship, Birthday, Found Family, compromises, Main Character(s) of Color, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Gifts, Rituals, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Series: Part 3 of Unbury The Gays

Chapter 5 summary: Sybilla had a great talent for pissing people off, even more than Adrien. The prince could be irritating, but Sybilla was on a completely different level. She always hit mercilessly where it hurt the most. And the worst part was that she was usually right.

Okay so it took a while. Unfortunately, nowadays things are so that we lack the time or spoons to write and unfortunately this results in longer breaks, which is all the more frustrating as we have a lot of ideas. We just quietly hope that the longer breaks won't make you forget about us and our two favorite bastards. We hope you enjoy this chapter, anyway.

 We also have a new ask game on our tumblr. If you are curious about certain things, feel free to ask, although the answer takes us a while, but also stimulates us creatively. The last such ask resulted in a short fic "Still Here" and two of my silly illustrations.

If, on the other hand, waiting for the next chapters is long, we recommend checking out the fic of the wonderful KatWithTheGlasses. Old Sins Cast Long Shadows was inspired by our work and it's an absolutely wonderful fic about our two favorite idiots and I love the story with all my heart. As an added bonus, it's not a multichapter so you don't have to wait for the next chapters :D . Seriously, you guys go read and give Kat a lot of love.

Anyway, we hope you enjoyed this chapter and that you will stay with us despite the long breaks. We love you and thank you for every kind word, for every kudos or bookmark, for being there! You are the best!

______________________

''Klemens is extremely outraged by your behavior,'' Sybilla said, balancing in the air on an invisible rope as Kiyan picked his way along the narrow cornices of the castle toward the back of the building. ''I promised him I'd pass that on to you.''

Kiyan paused on one of the high bay windows and glared at her. She wasn’t impressed at all.

''We have to talk.'' She smiled, and Kiyan wondered what would happen if he tried to push her off her invisible rope.

'Yes we fucking do,'' he growled. ''Can you explain to me what the fuck you were trying to do? Why did you send Gisbert after me? The boy almost lost his life, and his horse was stolen.'' 

''Ugh, Adrien's damned horses.'' Sybilla waved her hand in frustration. "Okay, I admit, I fucked up a bit; I forgot about the horse. But! I gave Gisbert a protective talisman.'' 

''They stole that from him, too,'' Kiyan pointed out.

''But in the end, he got to you safe and sound.''

''He was beaten , Sybilla,'' Kiyan said emphatically.

''He is not a child anymore,'' she replied, equally emphatically. ''Let him finally breathe and make mistakes. You cannot save him from all the evil of this world, even if you keep him under your thumb day and night. Which, by the way, we know isn’t going to happen, because you're not here most of the year. Besides, it had to be Gisbert. No one else could have convinced you to come back.''

''Okay, what is it?'' he demanded. "Why did you want me to be here?"

Sybilla gave him a strange look, then sighed and climbed down from her invisible rope to the ledge next to him. With a spell, she unlocked a window that had been latched from the inside.

''Come on, I want to show you something,'' she said, ducking inside the window. By Kiyan's estimate, they were one floor above the ballroom.

''I'm not going to show up at the feast,'' he warned her, but Sybilla was already casting another spell.

''I know, I know,'' she said agreeably, finishing the gesture and making Kiyan’s medallion hum. ''That's why this spell will distract the guests from us. Come on and stop whining.''

But Kiyan didn't move. His jaw clenched and his breathing shot out of control as he fought a wave of terror. Sybilla turned back to him with a frown. 

''Are you okay?'' She reached out to touch his arm, but Kiyan grabbed her wrist with one inhumanly quick move. 

Sybilla flinched as he leaned over her and hissed right in her face. '' Don't cast fucking spells on me!''

Kiyan could see her expression transform, anxiety giving way to guilt and... pity .

''Oh, I'm so sorry ,'' she said, sincerely regretful, but Kiyan couldn't help his fury or his terror. He knew that Sybilla didn’t want to hurt him, but his emotions didn’t care. ''I wasn't thinking-- I can take it off, sorry.''

Kiyan hated that look, that pity as people looked at him as a victim. 

Without a word, he released Sybilla's wrist and started toward the ballroom. The witch, still with that guilt on her face, followed him silently.

Read on AO3

[unbury-the-gays]

Chapter 16 sneak peek:

"Gentlemen, do you have some problem with my witcher?" Adrien asked nonchalantly, and Kiyan gritted his teeth. First of all, not your witcher, and secondly, don’t answer these taunts.

"This dog belong to you?" the commander of the guards asked, openly contemptuous.

"All my dogs stayed at Drahim Castle." Adrien grinned, but his gaze was murderous. "And as for the Master Witcher, yes, he works for me. That is why I’m asking what your problem is, because we are both busy and we will not waste time on your blatant lack of manners."

"He’s the Ofieri prince from Grassy Knoll, Moskovitz," one of the rude man's underlings whispered conspiratorially, but Kiyan heard it perfectly.

The commander scowled at the news and glared at Adrien, but he reluctantly stood straighter and prepared to present an explanation in a tone befitting dealing with a member of the nobility.

"The witcher attacked a merchant yesterday in the marketplace. He pushed him into a well," the man explained. "The victim's family has filed a complaint. The merchant is lying in the city hospital with a broken spine; doctors say he won't be able to walk."

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" Kiyan muttered under his breath so that only Adrien, standing next to him, could hear him, and the prince suppressed a smile.

"I'm sure it was an unfortunate accident." Adrien said with mock worry as he looked at Kiyan meaningfully. He probably hoped that the witcher would pretend with him, but Kiyan wasn’t going to do that.

"Yes, indeed," he confirmed, unfazed. "It was very unfortunate for this merchant to open his mouth. Fortunately, I was there to silence him." 

"You think this is funny, mutant?" The guard’s polite tone disappeared when faced with an outsider he wasn’t forced to act respectful of.

"What? Pushing racists, xenophobes and bigots into wells?" Kiyan asked. "Actually, I find it hilarious. I could make it my hobby."