#pilot geralt

[fllagellant]

Hey guys here’ s some um totally normal mass effect doodles yeah . Yeah these guys are in mass effect . Yeah . I’ m still a mass effect account . Uh huh . I mass effect

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

After hours

Masterlist

Pairing: Geralt x Librarian!reader

Summary: Geralt has finally handed in the paper you helped him research for weeks... Now what to do about all that tension between you two?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, p-in-v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, standing missionary, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), I think that's it?

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Alright! Roughly 4 months ago, I promised my dearest @deandoesthingstome a round with her Crescent Street fave (at the time, sorta). It has finally arrived! I hope you enjoy it 🥰

For those interested in the timeline: This takes place before he ever goes on his semester abroad, meaning that at this current time, he hasn't met Sol yet.

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae @ellethespaceunicorn @ylva-syverson @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @livisss @brattymum96 @kingliam2019

“Thanks for all your help the past few weeks.” You’d been hoping he’d show up all day, and now that the library was about five minutes away from closing, here he was. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d be able to hear your heart furiously beating in your chest. It’s a good thing that wasn’t possible. Right? 

“You’re more than welcome, Geralt,” you answered. For some reason you were avoiding his eyes. “Got that term paper done?”

“Handed it in a few minutes ago,” he said as he put a stack of books on the counter with a deep sigh. His voice drove you nuts, it had been doing so for weeks, haunting you until long after you had gone home - oftentimes deeper into the night than you cared to admit. 

“You don’t sound too confident?” No, but you did? Where was that coming from? You had expected yourself to crumble in the presence of this… long-haired hunk? Fine specimen? God? All of the above? 

“I’m sure it will be fine.” His smile surprised you the most. “If I’m being honest I’m mostly sad I… don’t get to work on it any more.” Your eyes moved to his as if by magic, because your brain still screamed at you to avoid them at all costs. And it was right to warn you, because as soon as you saw their beautiful color, you were lost. Every shred of the tension you’d spent weeks convincing yourself was a figment of your imagination, rushed back, and now there was so much of it you could almost see it in the air.

“Can I help you put these back?” Geralt said after you had signed his books back in, and you nodded in reply to his question, knowing full well the shelf they came from was all the way in the back of the library. You knew you’d been the only one in here for well over an hour now, but it wouldn’t hurt to check. 

“Let me get the door,” you said, before almost rushing to it and locking it quickly. You could swear you heard him chuckle under his breath at the way you moved, but you didn’t care.

You both scanned the aisles for people you’d missed, but per your expectations, the whole library was empty. It was just the two of you now. The walk to the mythology section of the building felt way too long, and you were definitely walking faster than you were used to, but you weren’t complaining - and neither was Geralt. You somehow found the time to start second guessing your interpretation of the situation, and had to very consciously remind yourself that putting four books back on a shelf was hardly a two-man job. And you were right about that; returning those books took maybe a minute, and when you were done putting the last one back, Geralt pulled you off the step you were standing on and looked at you. 

Once again, all the tension that had built up over the past few weeks came flooding back to you as you stared into his eyes. Your gaze only strayed from his long enough to notice the way the muscles of his jaw moved beneath his stubbled skin as he clenched his teeth. His hands felt warm and heavy as they rested on your hips, and your arms seemed to auto-pilot their way up until your lower arms were against his. Touching his biceps was a mistake - alright, not a mistake, but you were definitely shocked by the amount of muscle beneath the thin fabric of the dark sweater he was wearing. Geralt licked his lips as you let your hands travel up his arms to his shoulders, and when you reached them, he pulled you in. There was no going back now. 

He kissed you hard and in a way you’d almost describe as merciless, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Every move he made revealed a tiny bit more of the immense strength you had already suspected he possessed. Something told you that you’d be getting more proof of that - maybe even more than you bargained for, but you couldn’t care less. When you felt the warmth of his tongue against your lips, you didn’t hesitate to open your mouth and let him in. He tasted of God knows what, but it was good, and the way he kissed you made your head spin and your knees weaken to the point where you weren’t exactly sure how you were still on your feet. Probably, you realized when you analyzed the situation a bit more carefully, because he was holding you up. Now that you were pulled against his body, his hands had moved away from your hips, and one of his arms now wrapped around your waist while the other pushed between your shoulder blades, crushing you into his chest. One thing you were very sure about was that you were not going to complain about any of this. 

You were glad to see that this had an effect on him, too. His heavy breathing matched your own and you felt his pulse drum against your fingers erratically when you laid a hand against his neck. Most of all, you were surprised that he was hard already, which made you feel a little bit less embarrassed about the slick mess you were absolutely sure you’d find between your legs. 

For weeks, you’d thought about asking him to join you for coffee after spending hours on the research for his paper together, or straight up asking him to take you home, even, but what was happening now bested even your dirtiest fantasies. Geralt still wasn’t rushing, but he wasn’t exactly patient, either, and it wasn’t long before the hand he kept between your shoulders moved to your side, where it carefully began to creep up  over your clothes. Its destination was clear. You weren’t born yesterday, and he was a man; he obviously wasn’t interested in the feel of the fabric of your sweater. It was almost odd how he didn’t just immediately slip his hand underneath it…

To your disappointment, he broke the kiss, but luckily it was only to regain his ability to speak. 

“This is a lovely sweater, but it’s in my way.” You had been wrong: he did actually go on to comment on the softness of your sweater. That didn’t take away the fact that the way he cocked his eyebrow at you was a silent way of asking for your permission to take the thing off - which you gladly gave him. After a few short seconds, it was on the floor. Much to your own surprise, you told Geralt to just send your bra the same way immediately, while you frantically pulled at the hem of his sweater. After all, you needed to level the playing field a bit. The clasp of your bra was no match for his nimble fingers, which made you feel a little sad. Of course that wasn’t a new move to a guy like this - even though his being twenty-one made him a fair bit younger than the guys in your past. You were about to decide to not linger on the feeling, when Geralt made you forget about it altogether by kissing along your jaw to your ear. He moaned in it softly - a deep, gravelly sound that made you lose whatever little sanity you still possessed - and murmured a soft ‘fuck’ before moving away from you to take off some of his own clothes. 

It took everything you had to keep your mouth from falling open - and you were only about forty percent convinced you were actually successful. You’d always thought you had been more than generous in your wildly inappropriate dreams, but absolutely nothing on the planet gave this guy the right to be this fucking ripped. Despite probably managing to keep your mouth closed, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring, and you battled the strange urge to lick every inch of his body; your hands would have to do. Your fingers trailed softly over his shoulders and chest, and you bit your lip as you let them slowly travel down over his abs to the waistband of his trousers. On a whim, you hooked your fingers behind it and pulled him closer to you again. There was a devious smile on his lips when you did, which gave you more courage than you ever thought you had. He let out the most delicious grunt when you softly palmed his erection through his jeans, which was partially lost against your lips when you pulled his face down to yours for another kiss. You resisted the urge to pull your hand back when you realized what this guy was packing. 

Geralt squeezed your ass through your skirt and grunted again - a sound you gladly answered with a moan. He bowed his head and put his lips to your neck, seeking out the spots that made you squirm and whine. After a short while, he pushed you back a few steps until you felt the cold concrete of the wall against your back. You shrieked at the sudden coolness against your skin, involuntarily arching your back and pressing your chest into his. Geralt laughed softly before resolutely pushing you back against the wall, lowering his head again to continue his quest further down your chest. You gasped when the warmth of his breath brushed past your sensitive nipples. The touch of his tongue made you lean into him again as he drew circles around the pebbled skin. His hands made their way to the hem of your skirt, pulling it up until he could comfortably reach between your legs. His fingers ran over the fabric of your underwear, and you shivered when Geralt deliberately circled your clit with slow, lazy movements. 

He raised his head again, leaving your nipples exposed to the merciless cold air of the room, and looked straight in your eyes when he pulled your panties to the side and dragged a finger through your slick folds. He wet his lips, and you heard a soft growl rumble in his chest every time he exhaled. It was torture, the way he kept teasing you until you were begging him to give you what you wanted, but somehow, the glacial pace with which he pushed a finger into you was so much worse. 

"Fuck, you're killing me," you growled. 

"Tell me what you want, then." God, his smile was amazing. You almost forgave him for teasing you beyond any reasonable boundaries. 

"I want you to stop teasing me," you replied. 

"You've been teasing me for weeks," he said to your surprise, "don't I get even a little in return?" You quirked an eyebrow at him. He had been the one teasing you for weeks, for crying out loud! He laughed when you suggested that.

"I don't think I care who started it," he growled into your ear as he finally pushed two fingers inside you and curled them in search of the perfect spot. Of course he found it in no time, and you were a squirming, shaking, whimpering mess in his arms within seconds. 

He kissed you again. It was rough, like before - and an excellent way to keep you quiet as his fingers continued to pump into you unrelentingly. Your nails dug into the muscle of his shoulder so fiercely you were sure it hurt him, but he didn’t look bothered by it at all. Every moan that escaped you seemed to inspire him to keep going until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“That’s it.” You clearly heard the excruciating smugness in his voice as he pulled you over the edge. Leaning against the wall wasn’t enough to keep your knees from buckling, but Geralt seemed to have no problem holding you up while he rested his forehead against yours. After a while, your legs were once again able to carry your weight, and you stood a little straighter as you once again ran your hands over the ridiculously muscular torso in front of you, not stopping until you reached the waistband of his jeans, which you swiftly unbuttoned and unzipped. As soon as you wrapped your fingers around his cock, Geralt moaned loudly, your mouth swallowing the sound up as you pressed your lips to his again. The kiss could hardly distract you from the thoughts that raced through your mind as your hand greedily explored what mother nature had blessed him with, and you couldn’t stifle a moan. 

Your fingertips didn’t touch. That sentence ran tireless circles through your mind as you gently, experimentally, moved your hand, attempting to draw a reaction from the man in front of you. Your fingertips didn’t touch, but instead of contemplating the probability that this was never in a million years going to fit, you let out a continuous stream of moans as you touched him. If the past few weeks had taught you anything, it was that you didn’t care whether this would be easy or not. You needed him. 

The sounds that spilled from Geralt’s throat were like music to your ears, ranging from dark, guttural growling to equally dark and guttural moans. He took the liberty of pushing his pants down to give you easier access, which finally inspired you to set aside your doubts and get on your knees. 

Geralt inhaled sharply when your tongue darted out to meet the tip of his cock, and you found yourself almost giddy with excitement. There was just something about making a man this size crumble beneath your touch, and from your current perspective, everything about him seemed even more massive than when you’d been standing up. You smiled as you listened to the noises Geralt made as you circled your tongue around his head. That smile widened when those sounds grew more impatient with every passing second, until he placed a hesitant hand on the back of your head, gently urging you to stop teasing him. 

There was no way you could take all of him into your mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind. Men this generously endowed were probably used to that particular misfortune. Curiosity ultimately got the better of you, and you steadily moved further down his shaft until you reached your limit. At first, the hand Geralt kept on your head didn’t move at all, until there came a point at which he seemed to have confidently learned the extent of your capabilities. He was still gentle, applying only the slightest amount of pressure, never forcing you further down than you could handle. The occasional moan escaped you, the vibrations of which caused Geralt to groan, and his cock to twitch slightly in your mouth. 

It had been a while since you had been able to lose yourself so completely in a blowjob, and although you had no way of knowing how much time you spent on your knees, it must have been a rather long time. When Geralt pulled on your hair slightly - and more firmly after gaining some confirmation that you weren’t opposed to that kind of thing - and your almost trance-like state was broken and you were faced with reality again, the first thing you noticed was the excruciating sensation in your knees. You chuckled when the memory of one of your friends fought itself to the forefront of your mind. In your own days at the university, she had publicly - loudly, too - declared the library ‘carpet burn central’, and your knees were now living proof of her assessment. 

A large hand wrapped around your arm as Geralt pulled you off the ground rather unceremoniously, and pushed you back against the wall, kissing you fiercely. 

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath as he fumbled with something. The options regarding the source of the crinkling sound you heard - especially considering the context of the situation - were limited. Truth be told: anything other than a condom at this stage would have sorely disappointed you. Luckily, your educated guess was dead-on. 

“Need some help with that?” you taunted, not considering whether potentially antagonizing Geralt was a smart thing to do - it probably wasn’t. He huffed impatiently, breaking your kiss and looking at you with a lifted brow. There was something resembling amusement in those gorgeous amber eyes, and nothing of the annoyance that you had heard in his voice. 

“Got it,” he said, the smallest grin appearing on his lips. 

Without warning, he captured your body between his and the wall, pulling one of your legs up to his hip. It was not yet enough for him to comfortably move. While shaking his head slightly, a smirk on his lips, he lifted your other leg as well. The suddenness of your feet leaving solid ground made you shriek, and you wrapped your arms around Geralt’s neck. One thing was certain: there was absolutely no reason to doubt his strength. In fact, you wished furiously that you had chosen a less limiting and maybe more conventional position and location than the ones you currently found yourself in. Positions and locations with more possibilities for Geralt to show you what he was really capable of. At the very least, that location would contain something to tone down the sound of the screams you were sure he would pull from you.

As your thoughts raced through your mind about what could, would, should or might be, Geralt entered you slowly, giving you plenty of time to adjust to the size of his cock. Much to your surprise, things went smoother than you had expected. The first thrusts came slowly, and were too gentle to really match the raunchiness of the position - or place - you were in. 

That didn’t last long. 

Whether it was his idea, inspired by your sloppily muttered ‘I can take it’, or a combination of both, you didn’t know - and quite frankly: you didn’t give a damn. Right now, it was just you and Geralt, and the way your arms were wrapped around his neck, and your legs around his waist, as you held on for dear life while each thrust came harder, faster and deeper than the one before. It was fantastic. Something about the way he moved had you hiding your face in his neck in a hopeless attempt to hide your screams. You squirmed in his arms as your hands closed into tight fists around locks of his white hair - which he didn’t even seem to notice. 

Geralt was an unholy combination of strength and stamina: rough, untamed, and seemingly always on the brink of losing control. For a moment, you were consumed by a single drop of sweat that traveled down his forehead, headed for the furrowed brow that sat over a pained expression. That tortured look gave you an idea of the sheer amount of restraint he needed right now to not topple over into the abyss of his own feelings, and chase nothing but his own pleasure. He’d hurt you. You were as sure of that, as you were of your suspicion that you wouldn’t mind so much as one microscopic little bit if he did hurt you. Never before had you surrendered so completely to a man, and if you had to be honest: never before had any of them earned your submission like Geralt did. 

He lasted way past the point where you should probably have asked him to slow down, then past the point where you wondered if you genuinely wanted him to slow down, and finally another while past the very moment any discomfort warped itself into pleasure again. That familiar, throbbing ache begged for attention - yours or otherwise - as Geralt slowed his brutal rhythm. A sigh of relief escaped you, not because it wasn’t good before, but because this was a pace at which your mind could keep up with the continuous, overwhelming flood of sensations. Geralt urged you to loosen your arms, which were still wrapped tightly around his neck. He held your hips tightly as he stepped back a tiny bit, giving you space to reach between your bodies and focus some attention where you needed it most. 

Geralt thrust into you with a steady rhythm while your fingers drew tight circles around your clit. Your breath caught in your throat as you came closer and closer to your orgasm with each thrust, each touch. When you finally exploded around him, a hint of a smile cut through the grim expression on Geralt’s face. His harsh features softened as his previously unrelenting rhythm finally faltered and made way for the uncontrolled and passionate thrusts that announced his nearing release. His fingers dug into your hips, and the growls that fell from his lips bordered on the feral. When he came, those growls largely died against your lips as he swept you into yet another breathtaking kiss. A hiss escaped you when his sharp teeth grazed your bottom lip and bit down painfully. 

When he finally - maybe after slightly more time than he should have allowed - slipped out of you and put you down again, you had to brace yourself against the wall in order to stay on your feet. This guy was genuinely every bit as amazing as you’d imagined he’d be - and then some. Or rather: he had been. As you gathered your discarded clothes off the floor and put them back on, scrambling to make yourself at least somewhat presentable again, you realized that this was it. It was over. The one thing you had spent weeks looking forward to, was now something of the past. Suddenly, a wave of something you couldn’t quite place washed over you. Not regret, no, you’d recognize regret. Even the where and how of this encounter couldn’t hold a candle to your worst drunken mistakes - the ones you actually did regret. There was absolutely nothing to regret about something this amazing, except maybe the fact that it was over. 

As you questioned why part of you was questioning your unquestionable life choices, you vaguely took note of Geralt sneaking off to the bathroom. Of course, your initial fear was that he would sneak off altogether, but you remembered the only entrance to the library was locked, and you were the only person present with a key. Your suspicion was confirmed when Geralt returned to you a bit later. 

The two of you found yourselves in a very interesting situation. If the morning after a one night stand was awkward, the moment after a wicked semi-public quickie in the library was at least twice as uncomfortable, and then some. You didn’t speak as you locked up and left the floor you were on, and while you walked, at least a hundred scenarios crossed your mind that did nothing to settle your nerves about saying your goodbyes. Whatever you conjured up in your brain was also useless in preparing you for the one thing that actually did happen. 

“Come back to my place,” Geralt said as you stepped outside. No matter how hard you tried, you were ultimately unsuccessful in keeping your eyes from going wide as you heard his words. Something about it wasn’t a question, which turned out to be enough to bring back the thrumming between your legs and weaken your knees. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[kajaono]

How 911 7x04 supports four different readings

A long term, a short term, a canon and a subtextual one and all of them are valid

Just as a short reminder. In 7x03 Buck meets Tommy for the first time and instantly smitten by the cool hot pilot. Turns out the hot pilot and his best friend are best buddies. Buck feels left behind. So 7x04 lets us believe he tries everything to get Eddies attention. Turns out, he actually wanted Tommys attention. So, thats the narrative we are working with

Canon and short term narrative

So on a canon level we have Buck meets a cute pilot, tries everything to get his attention, breaks his best friend foot, gets rewarded with a kiss, a boyfriend and a coming out. A clear BuckTommy narrative.

Long Term narrative

And now it gets compliacted. Is Bucktommy a long term option? Is this a) "we see you read Buck as queer AND you ship Eddie and Buck... but the network says "no" to canon Buddie, but "yes" to bi Buck, so we give you everything we can"? We saw similar things in The Witcher for example, where people read Jaskier as pan and in love with Geralt and season 3 made really clear: "Yes he is pan, but we will never make Geraskier canon. BUt here: Jaskier now has a boyfriend."

Which btw doesn't make the queer coming out arc and the queer relationship less important or valid. I think the storytelling couldn't be more clear how much it cares for BuckTommy.

Or is this b) slow burn? Introducing: Marcus Pike aka Pedro Pascal in season 6 of The Mentalist:

For those of you who have never watched The Mentalist (have you been living under a rock?!) . It is a typical (and extremly good) crime show, 22 episodes each season, and one episode: one case

The main couple, Lisbon x Jane (Jisbon):

These cuties here. Six seasons of slow burn and pining. And the moment they nearly got together this show did what every good show did back then. They introduced a new love interest, and one half of the main couple falls for him:

Even though everyone knew that Jisbon was endgame it added even more tension, made the pining and slow burn even longer.

So what of those two options is Tommy? Someone to make the pining even longer? Or a compromise because canon Buddie is not possible?

Only time will tell and I am super curious for your opinins, Because i Think this is also where the ship war comes from.

Because Tommy could be both and it is aboslutly not clear if Tommy is here to stay or only a plot device

This is also where the subtextual narrative kicks in

If you see it from a long term POV this whole "i try to get your attention" could have second level... which eventually could be about Buddie again. From a long term POV. As in: "I wanted Tommys attention because I really liked him and because he helped me realize my true feelings... and I realized I could never have your attention." something like that.

What I want to say is: 7:04 is written in a way that the canon narrative we have today can be changed easily later without destrorying the legacy it has: canon bi Buck. Or it will be forever a Bucktommy ep... which is also amazing! (I am here for both ships! Multishipping yay!)

It is so so hard to tell and I want all your opinions in my inbox. Is Tommy a plot device that leads to canon Buddie or here to stay? Keep in mind this show could go on for ten more seasons...

And leave me alone with ship wars. If i get too many hate messages I will write a meta why Buck x Eddie x Tommy will be endgame, I swear

[saph-y]

What sort of music do the characters of Nomades enjoy? What are their favorite genres?

Haaa what a fun question I love that ! ♥ Kinda hard talking about musical genre into a setting like that tho, I do suppose they would still exist but like... differently ? I could do modern AU equilvalent I suppose, but let's just talk about their relationship to music in the canon !

Siv : prefers anything lively you can dance to, and her husband singing.

Archibald : who even knows what this man likes. But he actually learned to sing and has a very good voice, that is one of his weirdly specific talents. But hearing him is kind of a small event in itself, he doesn’t indulge often.

Gaspard : The typical lively folk stuff you’d hear in his pub (irish vibes). Less a technical singer than Archi but sings with the heart and has a very deep voice. They do duet that can make anyone week in the knees. Since she moved in with them Siv sometimes joins, she has a pretty clear voice

(oooldish art haha but I still like the left one very much!)

Fergus : basically the Tom Cardy of the Genaral Trail Radio - so singing and telling stories while doing so is basically his vocation. Can sing about anything and generally it stay stuck in your head for days. Plays a weird guitar/banjo thing.

(Jasper is his fav new subject because he always put himself in Situations, a bit like Jaskier seeing Geralt and deciding he's going to be his hype man xD)

Jasper doesn’t do music but will sometimes hums to himself or his cat when no one else is around. This is a secret. No one knows what his voice would sound like.

Mili I suppose would be curious to hear any salvaged music from the times Before. I think he would be in electro and very girly pop, but he’s not my chara so idk :p

Mark’s (Siv's pilot mentor) favorite tune is a well maitained engine😌... And probably Nomads anathems.

Naïm sing-songs low, enthralling tunes to the creatures of the desert, like a snake charmer.

And that's about all I can think about at the moment ! Thank you for the ask♥

[sos-exchange]

Signups are now open for the 2023 SoS Exchanges! This year, we are running the Witcher Summer of Sci-Fi Exchange and the Grishaverse Summer of Sci-Fi Exchange.

Summer of Sci-Fi is an annual fic exchange centering various sci-fi AUs, including but not limited to: cyberpunk, space opera, genre-blending with sci-fi (space fantasy, space western), etc. Do you want to see Geralt as a starship pilot? Alina or the Grisha in a cyberpunk setting? Ciri as a space cleric of some ancient deity, or the Crows as steampunk pirates, or some other funky AU I haven't even thought of? Summer of Sci-Fi highlights and celebrates science fiction AUs for any and all of the different canons for its fandoms.

Signups will stay open until June 5 at 12:00 AM GMT. Countdown here.

Links for The Witcher exchange:

Discord

FAQ

Sign up here!

Links for Grishaverse exchange:

Discord

FAQ

Sign up here!

Have questions? We'd love to hear from you. Feel free to send us an ask!!

(ETA: signups extended until June 5th!)

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Now that tlou is over for now I need more father & found kid media in my life. Do you have any recommendations? ❤️

Well, the two off the top of my head are obviously The Mandalorian, which I'm sure I don't need to explain, and another Star Wars media: the animated series The Bad Batch - which the fandom jokingly calls the Dad Batch because it's a show about a group of brothers who are "defected" clones and they find themselves taking under their wing a little girl named Omega who is technically their sister because she's the first and only female clone.

And while Omega has a very special and unique relationship with each one of her brothers, one specifically stands out.

While the others are like brothers/uncles, Hunter is truly a father. They have a special connection from the start, as you can see here in this pic she's his little shadow and loves to mimic him. At this point in the story, he's all about giving her a life she deserves, away from danger and just letting her be a kid. He's a tired dad but he loves being a dad. And everyone can tell by just looking at him.

Another pair I've been recently obsessed with is Stephen Strange and America Chavez. Even if you're not into MCU, go watch Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness because the boost of serotonin the Instant Adoption trope in this movie gives you is everything you hoped for and more.

Like, the protective instinct in Stephen pops up out of nowhere and he's like what the hell?! I can't turn it off! But do I want to turn it off? Nah, not really.

Istg, maybe there's not a lot of content with just one movie but the FICS?! The fics are chef's kiss!

Then there are other more famous pairs like Hopper and El from Stranger Things or Geralt and Ciri from the Witcher. But those I think I don't need to explain because their cases are widely known. So I'm gonna go in a different direction.

Oldie but a goodie. Marcel Gerard and Davina Claire from The Originals. Used to be my whole personality like Dick & Rachel and Joel & Ellie are now. I'm not gonna lie, my heart got broken many times and they are the reason I have trust issues but god they were so good. Like c'mon, the man saves her from literally being sacrificed in some ritual and instantly goes "yup, you're my child now", dials up his protectiveness to 11, creates her a beautiful room in the old church's attic, and even if he fucks up many times, I haven't seen a man love stronger before I met Marcel Gerard.

And of course:

SAVING THE BEST FOR THE LAST HAHAHA. DICK GRAYSON AND RACHEL ROTH, DC TITANS. But if you followed me for a while, here or on Twitter, you know the drill already. No need to explain, all my fics will do it for me 💙🖤 "we were supposed to save each other"/found you through a dream/invisible string/my reason to live all in one??? Got me in a chokehold since the pilot and is keeping me there for four years straight. The loves of my life. Can shake hands with Joel and Ellie because they took "if you're lost in the darkness, look for the light" literally. BOTH LOST IN THE DARKNESS, IN HER CASE LITERAL AS WELL AS FIGURATIVE. BROUGHT LIGHT TO EACH OTHER'S LIVES. SAVED EACH OTHER FROM ROCK BOTTOM. YOU CAN'T GO BETTER THAN THAT.

I'm sure there's more but these are the closest to my heart right now. Hope that'll help fill the void!

[cosmos-coma]

Prey of the Hunt- Chapter 6

A/N: Hey! This one took a bit longer than expected and I had some trouble making the dreams and foreshadowing flow together for the reveal. BUT! that’s fine, it’s reveal time!

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Word Count: ~3.5k

Summary: You finally remember everything about your past, who you are, and... you even speak your first words here at the Keep.

Chapter 7

_____________________________

As dinner concluded and everyone was pooling their dirty dishes together to be washed Eskel tugged you off to the side. His hand just graced the small of your back as you moved with him to a spot that felt more private, but you know you could only have so much privacy amongst a family of wolf-like ears. 

“How are you holding up? After training I mean” he asked as you two stopped, his hand sliding from your back to down your arm with a tender touch until he captured your hand in his.

“Little sore” you rubbed your arm gently in a few of the spots you got hit during the remainder of your training. “And you? You must be sore after that fall” you chuckled under your breath, being met with a short snort of a laugh from him.

“I’ll be fine, thank you…” He said with a shake of his head, “I always knew you’d sweep me off my feet, but not like this.” He grinned widely as the color bloomed in your cheeks. “But that’s not what I wanted to ask about- I know that sometimes you have trouble sleeping after long and eventful days like this and- well, if you wanted, you’re welcome to come sleep next to me tonight...” He offered as his other hand tested the waters and brushed along your hip to keep you close.

But you didn’t need a hand to keep you close as your cheeks reddened in a pink heat. “I would like that… They hardly bother me when you’re near.” you mouthed with a sheepish smile. 

The quick, but very present grin that crossed his face sent fuzzy sensations through your chest. “Perfect…. I have to go talk with my brothers, so I can meet you in my room in a little while, Okay? I'll try not to be too long…” he squeezed your hand gently, bringing it up so that your knuckles just grazed his cheek and lips. “Go get yourself comfortable… I’ll be there soon” he told you and pressed a more firm kiss against your fingers before heading off towards the kitchens, leaving you to blink in surprise as you took it in.  

Your heart was racing like nothing else as he turned away, though you suspected he wasn’t too different at the moment either. A smile grew on your face as you watched him slip through the door, forcing you to bite your lip to keep it all contained . 

Without much dallying you made your way towards Eskel’s room, getting everything comfortable for the both of you and climbing into bed to wait for him. 

And you waited. 

‘I guess it’s a long talk…’ you thought to yourself as you yawned and curled further into the blankets. ‘Surely Eskel wouldn’t mind if I fell sleep without him… just a little.. I'll wake up when he comes in.’  You assured yourself as you let yourself drift off into sleep 

____________

You had grown to recognize by now, when you were deep in a dream. Some of your senses felt stifled while others had moments of being heightened. Right now your sense of pain was what was clear as day. 

You were training in the courtyard of that palace you had dreamed of before. Surrounding you was a semi-circle of tall stoic-faced elves, their eyes a range of pale blues and greens that looked far deeper within your character than you liked. On one end of this semi-circle stood Eredin, King of the Wild Hunt, who stalked slowly around to get the best view available while you faced off against Geralt. 

Geralt… he was there?

He didn’t have the scar over his eye you knew he had now, and he held a much colder and more focused expression than he did as you knew him now- thought, to be fair, so did you. 

It was just like your sparring match earlier in the Keep, many of the moves flowing into each other the same way they had just hours ago. Your body moved on auto pilot as you fought against him, staff against sword. Your arms and legs ached from the endless hours of going through the motions you had gone through before, but you dared not let it slow you down lest you be reprimanded for it. 

You could hear the spectators murmuring as you narrowly dodged a swipe from his sword. It filled your head with a chattering anxiety that you forced not to show on your face despite how it began to deafen your ears to all else. 

You had become so consumed with how you were performing each small movement in your training that you registered Geralt just half a second too late. His sword came down like a hammer, intending to end the fight; however dream you- or maybe past you- was not prepared for it like you were at the Keep and instead of blocking it, you got caught across the cheek as you shifted away to dodge. 

So Geralt had given me that scar.

Eredin’s hand raised as blood was drawn from your fresh cut. The sparring session was now over and you had lost; you knew what that meant. 

WIthout warning your feet were swept from beneath you by a staff, your legs coming forward as you fell back onto your butt hard as the shockwave traveled through your body and forced the air from your lungs. Murmurings and snickers emanated from your older comrades as they watched you get humiliated. You coughed to try and force air back into your lungs and winced as you moved to stand, trying not to look at Geralt’s subtle look of guilt and pity as you did. 

“Aedd Gynvael…” Eredin said, referring to you as he shook his head in disappointment. “You’ll have to work much harder than that to be an effective rider. Because you are young will be no excuse.” he spoke in a quiet yet harsh tone that hurt more than the humiliation did as it hit your ears. “If you do not show me that you can keep up I will go back and take your mother as I initially intended…” he threatened. It was a familiar threat to your ears by that time, yet it had never stopped scarring you. 

You only dared to nod in reply. “Yes, my king….”

Your dream then jumped to another movement in time. You were walking down a hallway when you passed by a tall standing mirror and were forced to pause. You leaned in and looked over your face, the old scar traced over your nose, and the new, but healing cut running down the flesh of your cheek. You poked and prodded it as you watched to feel the ache that came with it.

“Hmm” you hummed a bit as you took a step back to fully see your self. You were clad in Iron armor, the little ornamental filigree having been worn away in most areas, but it was still present here and there. It was clunky and a little loud- but you had since grown comfortable in it. 

You held a helmet tucked under your arm possessively, Its skull like shape acting as a sense of odd comfort in that moment. It already had an etched line across the nose that matched that scar of yours, both of them were worn into smooth indents by the passage of time. However there was a new line engraved on the helmet, still sharp from being done by unprofessional hands. It was pulled across the cheek exactly where your fresh cut sat. 

“Why do you always scratch up your helmet like that, Gynvael?” Geralt’s voice came from out of nowhere beside you, causing you to jump in surprise. Despite the momentary shock, It was a familiar and friendly tone that you came to welcome it with open arms- well, friendly compared to everyone else there. 

You threw a small, barely there smile his direction and looked down at your helmet. “Well, I know we’re supposed to be faceless riders in a way” You spoke, looking deep into those sockets. “Meant to invoke fear and mystery… but part of me-” You paused as you frowned in thought. “Part of me doesn't want my actions to become something faceless. I deserve to recognize myself in the things I've done- whether I like it or not.” 

As you looked back at Geralt, your conscious mind seemed to recall the friendship you and Geralt had shared. Your bonds forged over your shared experience with the Wild Hunt; how you both stepped in to take the place of the people you cared about, how you both recoiled over the blood on your hands at the end of each day, and how you both longed for nothing more than to leave this plane. 

Your dream jumped again before Geralt could reply, and now you were hidden away in an old garden, away from prying eyes as you said goodbye. A young woman with ashen hair- who you recall having visited this place many moons ago was now helping Geralt finally make his escape. 

“We need to leave soon, Geralt- or we’re going to attract suspicion.” She said, her head swiveling back and forth to make sure they were still safe before turning to you. “I’m sorry I don’t have the power to take you with, but I can only transport one person at a time.” Her expression held genuine regret as she looked back to you, but you only shook your head. 

“It’s okay… I’m sure I’ll find another way.” You assured, but even you struggled to believe it anymore, but she didn’t need to know that.

“If you do happen to find your way out, ” Geralt said “Go to Kaer Morhen. You’ll be welcome there amongst my brothers. Just keep heading northeast  through the Blue Mountains and you’ll spot it.” His arms stretched out for a quick parting hug which you gladly took. It had been so nice to have a companion with you for a few of weeks that you were there, someone who didn’t crave humiliation and pain from you the way the others did. 

They both turned towards a thick hedge wall, ready to make their escape with the power this ashen haired woman held- when she stopped, and turned back around.

“Listen I - I have a friend around here. He’s a bit harder to find, only resides deep in the forests here in Tir Na Lia. His name is Ihuarraquax- It’s a fuckin’ mouthfull, I know. But if you tell him I sent you he should help you get out like he helped me…” she said, nodding in satisfaction as some of the guilt of leaving you left her consciousness. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep my eyes out, but you two should go. Travel safe, okay? I'll keep Eredin busy…” You promised and waved as you watched the young woman take his hand and flash away in a greenish light. Quickly the light faded and you were left alone again in the gardens, the darkness of night descending around you.

When you awoke with a start, your chest was tight and twisted- void of breath until your lungs finally managed to pull a small amount in, causing you to heave until you could catch your breath. Your head hurt worse than it ever had before as you felt your memories flooding back like a tsunami charged by the eruption of your dreams. Everything of who you were, what you did, why you were where you were became increasingly clear as the sediment settled.

Through squinted eyes you scanned the room, but Eskel had still not returned. Flinging the blankets from the bed, you sprung up and out of the room as your legs ran at full speed. Down the hall you went, pads of your feet slapping against stone, but you didn’t have the wherewithal couldn’t feel the cold you usually did. 

“Y/n?” you heard from the end of the hall as you rounded a corner, almost slipping in your rush. Eskel watched you as you raced towards him, arms extending to receive you as you came barreling straight into his embrace. Your arms wrapped tight around him as your bodies connected, hands gently fisting his tunic between your fingers.

“Y/n, what happened? Was it another dream? Did something-” he started, but quickly cut himself short as a new noise came. 

“Eskel….” you whispered out, voice raspy and unused this entire season until now. “Eskel….” you whispered again, relishing his name as it finally slid off your tongue the way it couldn’t weeks ago. 

“Y/n…” he replied in shock and awe as your voice hit his ears. He had been waiting for this moment ever since you first showed up in the keep, and even though you sounded like an old chain-smoker right now it was the most delightful sound he’s gotten to experience to date. 

“Eskel,” You started again and cleared your throat in an effort to return your normal voice. “ I know who I am….”

___________

It was the wee hours of the morning as you sat around the table with the four Witchers. Each of them had a drink in their hands to sip through as you talked, while you nursed a mug of tea to keep your voice going through it’s new amount of use. 

“I am Y/n, rider of the Wild Hunt,and known to them as Aedd Gynvael.” you started your tale.

From there you regaled everything you’d put together thus far. When you were younger your full elf mother performed an act of magic in order to save your father that must have unintentionally attracted the Wild Hunt. You instead took her place- albeit unwillingly- and joined the Hunt as a fellow rider. You learned to hone bits of magic there, you learned Elder speech, and how to defend yourself. You trained for what seemed like endless hours, raided a multitude of villages, and saw your hands covered in more blood than you cared to admit. 

During this time, Geralt had become a rider. He wasn’t who you all were aiming for, Eredin reportedly wanted some sorceress named Yennefer- but Geralt had stepped in for her instead. It wasn’t long after that that you and Geralt grew into friends over your shared experiences and shared disdain for the King of the Wild Hunt. 

However, it felt like Geralt was only there for a blip of your own imprisonment, and within no time an ashen haired woman had come to help him escape. 

“Lara- No… no, it was a C it started with… Cirilla! She told me about a friend that had helped her escape. It took a while for me to find him between the raids on the continent and the various training but eventually he opened a portal for me and I was able to get out.” you finished and took a slow sip of tea to sooth your vocal chords.

Eskel and Lambert spoke quietly to each other, seemingly bouncing their understandings off of each other. Geralt however, had a look of recognition come across his face when you mentioned your elder nickname and it only grew stronger as you explained all that had happened to you. 

He hummed in thought before he finally looked to you and spoke. “Gynvael…. That’s why I struggled to recognize you here; I’d never heard you called anything else,” a small amiable smile crossed his expression. “And- Sorry about the scar I guess…. “

You smiled back and nodded that it was okay, before turning to meet the next question. 

“So, why were you called Aedd Gynvael…?” Eskel asked, his hand present on yours in a constant comfort as his face conveyed a genuine curiosity.

“It was a cruel joke… It means ‘shards of ice’ in Elder. The story goes that those hit with the fabled shards of ice become dull, unhappy, and empty as they search endlessly for the ‘Snow Queen’ of legend. They usually end up freezing to death in their search”. You shook your head as the bitter taste of irony  hit your tongue. “But the Snow Queen is really just the Wild Hunt. Eredin thought it was cruelly funny that I really had found the Snow Queen, but still remained empty.” You sighed as you squeezed Eskel’s hand tight as you bit your tongue from saying more. Your tensed muscles gradually loosened and  channeled your anger out of the rest of your body as you did. 

Eskel nodded slowly, a similar anger smoldering in his golden eyes like hot embers as he heard your explanation. However, with a soft press of your lips against his knuckles it was tampered down once again to something manageable. 

“I have a question-” Lambert stated to get your attention, “How long were you a rider? It just seems like a lot of memories to lose.” 

“Well, I think it was just a few months… 7 or so, by Tir Na Lia’s calendars.”

Geralt piped in again at this point, “however, time moves slower there than it does on this plane. I was gone for a few weeks I thought, but here it had been 2 years… Its 1266 now, so…”

You nodded and thought back through it as you did some mental math. “So I’ve been gone a little longer than 11 years….” You said, matter-of-factly. You wish you could sound sadder at this, at the wasted years of your life, but riding with the Hunt had been all you knew. There was nothing else to feel that you missed. 

Vesemir nodded as all the pieces of your puzzle came together. “That explains a lot… like why you tend to dream of winter and bodies, why none of the modern descriptions of these towns seem right to you, why Geralt and you recognized each other…” 

You nodded, continuing his sentiments “- why I saw a rider in the mirror, and why I knew exactly where to find Kaer Morhen”.

Everyone grew quiet and nodded as they took in the entirety of the situation and replayed the events of the last few weeks over in their minds. 

After the quiet had settled in fully, Lambert was the one to speak up and break the silence. “So… where do we go from here?” He asked, looking around at everyone.

It took another moment of thoughtful silence before you finally responded. “Well, Eredin gave up on the first chase- and I’m hardly the most valuable rider he has. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about unless he gets a good offer and can kill two birds with one stone- so to speak.” 

Vesemir nodded and leaned back in his chair as he listened to you finish before giving the closing remarks. “ Well, if he hasn’t shown up already he probably wont. But we can keep our eyes open just in case, and it wouldn’t hurt to reinforce the Keep for either possibility.” He stood up and downed the rest of his drink. “For now, all of you just get some sleep and we can deal with it more in the morning.” He dismissed and made his way off to bed. 

Geralt and Lambert quietly said their goodnights and went off to their respective rooms, while you and Eskel stayed behind and waited for everyone to leave.

“Eskel…” you sighed heavily- as if your entire soul was exiting through one breath, trying to find the things you wanted to say and convey, but Eskel squeezed your hand in interruption. 

“I know…” He sighed as well and held your hand against his cheek. “But It’ll be okay. I’m still here beside you the whole way”. He assured and looked to you with his same honey golden eyes. 

Even though you could speak again, you were glad to see that you and Eskel still didn’t need words to communicate. It was a weight off your chest to have someone like Eskel by your side while you went through all of this. 

“Let’s go to bed, yeah? It’s been a long night….” You smiled a bit and stroked his cheek gently as you stood. 

His face bloomed into a subtle but lovely smile, a slight sense of mischief showing before he carefully scooped you up into his arms. “I couldn't agree more…” 

Strong secure arms carried you back to his room, sitting you down amongst the furs. Neither of you spoke, neither of you had to, as you curled around each other and settled in for sleep. The heat of his body warmed you better than any fire could and as you laid your head upon his chest, listening to the way his heart beat beat beat against your ear, you could have sworn you felt the ice of your past beginning to melt away.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @dark-academia-slut @weaponizedvirtue

[perfectlywisedelusions]

so i’m noticing a trend where the first episodes of each of the witcher seasons are all pretty book-accurate, give or take. the pilot was one of the original short stories, as was s2′s pilot, and now we have the plot point from blood of elves where geralt and ciri go to shaerrawedd with yarpen zigren. considering that the pilot and the recognizable scenes got a lot of trailer time, i’m guessing that shit gets progressively worse as we go along. 

[rosewood-multifandom-writer]

I don’t like Alice from the live action Resident Evil movies) as much as I don’t like Geralt from the Witcher because they both share the same boring stoic character traits. Don’t get me wrong, stoic characters can be good when they are written well and are complex (like Batman and Ada Wong), but if their expressions only range from stoic to grumpy to angry, then it just makes me not care about them even more.

The reason why Batman works (when he isn’t written by people who clearly hate Batman or overhype him by having him somehow beat characters like Superman and put him in Batman vs Superman situations for like the millionth time) is because he is wearing a metaphorical mask. He pretends he’s this stoic, ruthless and protective powerful man with no powers but in actuality, he has never emotionally recovered fully from his losses. He also shows care towards characters like Baby Doll, showed Harley Quinn kindness and he adopted Dick Grayson because he put himself in his shoes when he witnessed Dick lose his parents to a criminal.

Which is why I hate the out-of-character Batman moments of him knocking up his oldest son’s girlfriend and that infamous comic book that had him say, “I am the goddamn Batman.” I’m not a comic book reader but I watched the movies and the cartoons that featured him.

The reason why Ada Wong works as a stoic character is because it’s obvious she’s playing a character, a fake version of herself or the sake of her shady jobs. She works as a mysterious character that best in the remake timeline we have so far because she is not tied to the typical and predictable Catwoman archetype Capcom attempted and failed to make Ada into to make the overly complicated Batman and Catwoman dynamic between Leon and Ada. Remake Ada has more interactions with Luis that show some more dimension to her character, such as her fulfilling Luis’s last wishes of saving Leon and Ashley and avoiding Wesker from blowing the whole island and forcing a helicopter pilot to fly in a different direction to keep the Amber away from Wesker.

I am hoping that if she appears in another title by HERSELF, not with Leon and not a single mention of Leon, we get to know her more as a person. And for RE6, I want Leon and Ada’s encounters to be different, not the whole “you love her, don’t you?,” and the flirting Leon and Ada do when Helena is being forced to fight her sister. Like, guys? Time and place?

So when I compare RE Alice to Ada Wong and even Jill Valentine, RE Alice is the weakest female character written (not talking about strength and skill wise, that’s not what I’m talking about). If I had to choose between Batman and the Witcher, I’d pick Batman every single time. I also picked the Witcher as another stoic character I don’t like so that I don’t get the, “oh god, you are SO misogynistic” comments. Both RE Alice and The Witcher are equally boring to me. Plus, RE Alice was good in the very first movie, every other movie was just bad to worse, to worse, to “okay, what are we doing now?”

[bi-aragorn]

We Can't

Finally gotten around to posting this fic from the fic/art swap event in @thepassifloradiscord last July (organisation who is she)

Written for @dani-dandelino

Rating: Teen

Tags: Forbidden Love, Emotional Hurt, Star Wars AU, Hurt Jaskier, Emotionally Hurt Geralt

Pairing: Geraskier

Here on Ao3

Star Wars Geraskier shenanigans below:)

Dust whipped around Geralt’s feet as he strolled along the outskirts of the district. It was a hot day, and people were milling around slowly, idly meandering down alleyways as they went about their business. Currently, Geralt didn’t have much to do- no instructions, no plans…and no Jaskier. His lover had crept out of bed that morning with a sad little grimace and promised to try and spare him a few more precious hours later in the week. And that had been it, off he went to his meeting on Metellos. Leaving Geralt with little to do but wander around listlessly and consider returning to the Temple for some training.

As he ambled back through the streets of the Federal District, one foot in front of the other, sighing to himself as he thought dismally that it could be weeks now before he got a chance to be alone with Jaskier again. 

Rounding the corner, still lost in thought, Geralt almost crashed into two small boys running around in the road, shrieking and giggling, arms sticking out besides them as if they were starfighters. Grunting, he skirted around them and continued walking. It was only a few minutes later, as he began to go up the steps into the Jedi Temple that a thought struck him. There was nothing stopping him from just happening to visit Metellos today, and by some strange coincidence finding Jaskier there. Yes. That’s all it would be - a coincidence.

The journey to Metellos didn’t take long, at least, it being within the same sector. As Geralt sat down in the pilot seat and buckled himself in, he couldn’t help but smile softly, and run a fond palm across the dash. Roach was a sturdy, reliable little vessel, and fast too- really it had been too long since he had taken her out for a spin. Well, now was better than never he thought to himself as he pulled her up into the sky, and shot off towards Jaskier.

It was as the planet came into view, however, that Geralt realised something was wrong. Smoke was billowing from a central point in the capital- Geralt’s knuckles went white as he sped up, guiding the ship down as fast as he reasonably could, heart racing as the wreckage loomed before him. His heart jolted in his chest as he finally caught sight of the origin of the smoke, and it was all he could do to stop safely before Geralt was bolting out of Roach, robes flying out behind him as he sprinted towards it. One of the stratblocks was on fire, and he had a sinking feeling that Jaskier might be inside it. 

“Fuck,” Geralt snarled, lungs burning as he charged across the plaza and towards the wreckage. This wasn’t supposed to happen- it wasn’t supposed to end like this, so soon- not when he hadn’t even told Jaskier that he loved him for fuck’s sake-

People were screaming, crawling from the rubble and clinging to each other, tears streaming down their faces, leaving tracks amongst the soot. This couldn’t have been an accident, but Geralt couldn't bring himself to care about how or why the structure had fallen until he knew Jaskier was safe. He scrambled across the fallen bricks, amongst the carnage, frown deepening as every passing second went by and he still hadn’t found the senator. Fuck, the backlash from the Senate if anything had happened to him- Geralt shook his head to clear it, nearly tripping as his foot caught against something solid. 

Something solid groaned and coughed on the smoke lingering around them. Shit. Geralt leapt up, heart in his mouth as he worked carefully to unbury the figure from the rubble, slowly revealing a head of soft, brown hair now filthy with soot, and dark robes, torn in places but unmistakably Jaskier’s. 

“Jask?” His voice was rough, eyes wide as Geralt waited for some kind of response.

Jaskier groaned, and coughed, head lolling to the side before bright blue eyes blinked open to look at him. 

“Geralt…” he mumbled, before launching himself forward and pulling Geralt into an embrace. Like this, Geralt could feel just how fast his heart was racing, how much Jaskier was shaking in his arms-  he couldn’t take it anymore. The Jedi surged forward, tugging Jaskier by the hair to meet him in a bruising kiss, uncaring of potential witnesses. He doubted anyone would notice, and even if they did- well. It was worth any consequences that awaited him for the way Jaskier gasped into his mouth, hands falling to grasp Geralt by the hips and push their bodies impossibly closer. Just getting to touch him, hold him so close had set Geralt’s heart ablaze, and this- this- 

All logical thought fled his brain the moment Jaskier pressed those plush lips against his neck. Geralt squirmed, a gasp escaping him as he tipped his head back further to give Jaskier more room. Just as his mind began to cloud over with the comforting haze of lust, Jaskier drew back. Geralt would deny the whine that escaped him for the rest of his years.

“We can’t,” Jaskier whispered, not looking at him, cheeks flushed. “We can’t keep… we have to leave,” 

Geralt’s heart sank. “You’re right,” he said- because what else was there to say? With a deep pang of regret, he stood up and hauled Jaskier to his feet. “You need to get back to the Senate- I’ll take you,” Jaskier’s brows furrowed, eyes wide and hurt looking- and Geralt had to look away, climbing back out from the rubble, leading the way back to Roach.

The ride back was quiet, Jaskier’s hand ghosting over Geralt’s knuckles as he guided them home, sharing soft, sad smiles as they drew regrettably closer and closer to home. As he pulled up, Geralt hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. 

“I- I’ll look for your message,” he said, weakly instead, the words he so desperately wanted to let out trapped in his chest. Jaskier threw him a watery smile back over his shoulder as he stepped out and onto the ground. 

“I’ll see you when I can,” 

It was as close to a promise as either of them could make. It didn’t make it hurt any less.

[ereardon]

You've started Witcher s3?! How are you feeling about having only 5 episodes this time around, since Henry's heading off the show?

I haven't even started it yet since I just noticed it on Netflix today

WHAT. I did NOT KNOW it was only five episodes???? I would have fucking SAVORED that shit.

I'm so upset he's leaving. Not only because he's foxy but because I don't think anyone else can play Geralt? Like he IS Geralt.

Liam just will not fit the bill for me. I hate when shows switch actors after a significant amount of time (not just after the pilot etc) so that'll prob ruin it for me.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Baby, it's cold outside

A/N: Another little something I wrote for @sillyrabbit81's milestone event. I still can't stop taking screenshots so there's a slight chance this may not even be the last one.

You can find the masterlist for the event here! (And my masterlist here)

Pairing: Napoleon Solo (Jack Deveny) x OFC (Evangeline Dubois)

Prompt: Playful & Happy + Uniform or Costume

Summary: A stewardess recognises a certain Mr. Jack Deveny from her flight earlier in the day. He just so happens to be staying at her layover-hotel.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Actually... There's some kissing and groping but other than that...

@geralts-yenn @fvckinghenrycavill @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae @ellethespaceunicorn

From the corner of her eye, she spotted him. He had been on her flight. A Mr. Deveny, row 7, chair B. Handsome, charming, and practically the only male passenger that hadn’t propositioned her. Even the pilots didn’t always grant her that courtesy.

Of course she was pretty; she was a stewardess for Pan Am, after all. Beauty was part of her job description, but why did that have to mean she had to endure countless more-than-friendly hands sliding up her thigh with a smile on her face? On the one hand she was glad that Mr. Deveny hadn’t made any untoward advances, but on the other… Was she not attractive to him? And if so, why not?

Napoleon – though to anyone in this room he would introduce himself as Jack Deveny – glanced at her from behind his newspaper. His eyes did not habitually deceive him, and so he was fairly certain that it was her; the stewardess from his flight. She was still in her uniform – against regulations, no doubt – which had that particular shade of blue that anyone would recognize from a mile away. He headed over to the bar, right when she did. A terrible coincidence, of course.

She ordered a glass of white wine. Not an unusual choice, as it was July in Paris. He noticed her French was absolutely flawless – as far as he could tell, anyway.

“Allow me,” he said before she could take her wallet out of her purse.

“No need, Mr. Deveny,” she said without thinking. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, only turning his head so far as was absolutely necessary, while a smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You remember my name,” he said. It became immediately clear to you that you didn’t have to be concerned with inflating the man’s ego. It could hardly become bigger, anyway. Yet he didn’t have the usual air of brazen arrogance to him that they usually had. She wasn’t special to him, she knew that. Just another pretty face in what was no doubt a fairly large collection of pretty faces. Luckily, she did not mind, as she kept her own collection of pretty faces that he would slot into quite nicely. Men of his character were usually well-rehearsed in the art of physical affections, and they made long layovers so much less dull. Besides; her employers paid her well, but nowhere near enough to see the inside of a room on the higher floors. She flashed him a smile and turned away.

“Thank you for the drink, Mr. Deveny,” she said as she took the glass in her appropriately white-gloved hand and prepared to walk back to the table where she had been reading.

“My pleasure, miss…” His implicit question stopped her in her tracks, and she looked at him with a sweet smile.

“Dubois,” she said demurely, “Evangeline Dubois.”

“Where are you from, miss Dubois?” He asked her. In her mind, she rolled her eyes at his impeccable ability to keep his voice and face free of any overt implications or unsavory ends.

“New Orleans,” she answered him truthfully. He nodded. That explained the French.

“Normally, I’d ask what brings you here, but…” He gestured briefly to her attire. “I fear the question in this case would be redundant.”

“Don’t tell me that your ability to hold a conversation ends there, Mr. Deveny.” He was dangerously close to her, she noticed. His tall, broad frame hovering over her, the scent of his cologne seducing her slowly.

“Allow me to prove it indeed does not,” he said, and only then did she realize what she had fallen for, “join me for this one drink.”

The invitation naturally led to the offhanded mention of a rather expensive bottle of complimentary champagne that was currently sat in his room, waiting to be opened, but of course she had to decline the offer.

“Should you change your mind, miss Dubois,” he said as he got up from his chair, “I am in room 809.”

“This is a very nice room you have, Mr. Deveny,” she said softly as she stepped into the room. It was much larger than her own, and much more luxurious in every aspect. She noticed that the man in front of her didn’t seem the least bit surprised that she had been unable to resist his invitation, and she commanded his restraint and skill in hiding the utter smugness she was convinced he felt as he saw her standing there. He had taken off his jacket and tie, and for the first time she got a good look at the way the buttons of his shirt were struggling to do their work against the forces the size of his chest exerted on the fine fabric.

“Indeed it is,” he replied. “Champagne?” He gestured to the already opened bottle that sat in a cooler on the small table, and the already poured glass next to it. He himself sat down in the armchair next to it. There was something outrageously presumptuous about that glass, but she lifted it from its tray, nonetheless.

“Santé,” she said as she raised her glass. The glances the pair shared were different now. Not that decorum was completely out the window, just yet, although either of them knew it was only a matter of time. The bubbles in the sweet liquid tickled his tongue as he took a sip from his glass. His eyes never left her figure, though they didn’t quite stay on hers. In fact, they scanned her complete form rather thoroughly. Of course, any stewardess in a similar uniform looked fantastic, but there was something about the way she wore it that aroused Napoleon more than he ever thought possible.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He asked her nonchalantly, knowing very well that he currently occupied the only chair – a fact that she did not neglect to point out to him.

“Oh my,” he said, “how inconvenient?” With a few steps, she closed the distance between them, but she didn’t dare sink down onto his knee until he caught her hand in his and guided her closer to him. She now rested comfortably against his chest, while he used one hand to pull her legs over his other knee. Almost painfully slowly, his hand crept up her calf, fingers tracing the fine seam at the back of her stockings, until he reached the hem of her skirt. He pulled his hand away unexpectedly, taking his glass into his other hand again and drinking in silence as she leaned against him.

Finally, a quick brush of his lips against hers put things in motion, and she smiled demurely when he looked at her again.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” she said, feigning shock with obvious ostentation.

“I disagree,” he said as his lips curled into a smile. Of course he disagreed. They always did.

“I have to go, Mr. Deveny,” she said, this time more sternly, but still clearly hoping for a particular response. A response she wasn’t going to get from him, or so it would seem. These conversations were usually over much quicker, but he seemed to be in a mood for playfulness.

“I know.”

“I couldn’t possibly stay.” He chuckled softly at the way she betted her eyelashes at him while she said it. He knew exactly the response she was after, but why should he give it to her immediately?

“Of course. You are a lady, after all.” As he spoke, her irritation grew. Was this man arrogant enough to expect her to throw herself at him, begging him to spend the night with her? She was in no way inclined to do that, and more than determined to let him know.

“Indeed I am,” she answered almost coldly, barely able to hide her displeasure at the way he played his games.

“With a sense of decency,” he continued, the same cocky smile still present on his face. She couldn’t quite figure out why he was dragging this out. He should know she wasn’t opposing his intentions; she’d had every opportunity to get up and walk out.

“Exactly, Mr Deveny.” She could no longer keep impatience and dissatisfaction from seeping into her voice, and he laughed. The glint in his eyes caught her attention. It was something devious. Rakish. Bold in the most careful, calculated way. God, how it made her want him even more.

“You have no choice but to leave.” The playful undertone in his voice got stronger as he feared that keeping her guessing for too much longer would actually get her to up and leave, and she picked up on it immediately.

“There will be talk.” It was her mistake for using the present tense, she figured as the smile disappeared from his face and was replaced by a stern look that sent shivers down her spine. She had enough trouble controlling her breathing as things were, and she cursed in silence his good looks and charm.

“What if I insist that you stay?” The sound of glass against metal told her that he put down his glass on the tray again, which was confirmed not long after, by nimble fingers who slid up her leg, resting just above her knee to toy with the hem of her skirt.  

“Well, I would need a good reason to do so.” She bit her lip when she moved to put her own glass away, accidentally brushing her leg against the bulge that was evident in his pants. His face showed no embarrassment, or anything resembling an apology.

“Well, it’s late.” She stifled a laugh when he said it; it was barely 8PM.

“Very late,” she agreed as she swiftly opened the top buttons of his shirt before sliding her hand across his chest.

“No gentleman would send a young woman out on the streets at night, unaccompanied.” Another absurd excuse – after all, she was staying in the same hotel – mumbled this time against the sensitive skin on her neck.

“It would be dangerous,” she replied. Napoleon’s fingers abandoned the hem of her skirt and slid further up her thigh. She squealed when they dug into the soft flesh of her rear, biting her lip as she looked at him with devised outrage.

“Far too dangerous,” he said with a smile, “there’s all kinds of people out there.”

“Men, Mr Deveny, all kinds of men.” It was a subtle commentary on his forward behavior, though she was the last person to ask him to stop. They had been playing this game for more than long enough, she decided.

“With unsavory intentions,” he spoke again, “you’ll be much safer here.” He pulled her in closer, squeezing her ass again, as he planted a soft kiss in her neck.

“Without a doubt,” she sighed, no longer trying to hide her arousal from him. Without further ado, she undid the buttons of his waistcoat and the remaining ones of his shirt, and allowed her hands to explore the exposed skin of his chest. His lips moved from her neck to her ear, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Occasionally, she felt the pressure of his teeth on her skin, and she moaned.

“And it’s cold,” he whispered directly in her ear before taking her earlobe in between his teeth and biting down on it softly. It took everything she had not to laugh, as the excuse was just as preposterous as the last; it was July in Paris.

“Terribly so,” she gasped as Napoleon continued his exploration of her neck while his fingers worked on opening the buttons of her blouse. He was less adept at the practice than she was, she noticed, but soon he slid his hand beneath the fabric. He hummed softly when his fingers met the lace of her bra. They carefully sought out her nipple, making her gasp as he drew careful circles around it.

“You wouldn’t want to get sick,” he said plainly. Their lips met – briefly at first, and then… He kissed her – really kissed her, and she lost her train of thought easily. Soon, his tongue traced her lip, begging for entrance, and she did not leave him begging for long. When he broke the kiss, they were both out of breath.

“That would be most unfortunate.” She moaned the words rather than said them as he shifted her in his lap so that she was straddling his thighs, her skirt riding up as she spread her legs, revealing the delicate fabric of her underwear.

“I really think it best if you stay.” He lifted her with ease, firmly holding her thighs, which she wrapped around his waist. Within a few steps, they were next to the bed.

“I tried,” she managed – barely – between ragged breaths.  

“Certainly,” Napoleon said with a wink before he once again kissed her neck. This time, his affections were rough and uninhibited, but he did lower her carefully until her back hit the mattress.

[daenystheedreamer]

do you have any book recs?

im gonna sound like a normie or a heathen but my tastes in books is extremely lame 😭 my favourite books are all huge classics. i fucking love pride and prejudice im so boring 😭 i read the fucking godfather and thought it was fine like THAT is how boring my tastes are

i LOVE catch 22 if you havent read it i HIGHLY recommend it. its really funny and i♡yossarion. about american pilots during ww2 but its a military/war/america/etc satire. really funny!!!

HER BODY AND OTHER PARTIES BY CARMEN MARIA MACHADO... omg my most favourite recently published read. BEAUTIFUL collection of short stories. feminist queer etcetc, i love the quiet body horror so to speak? it felt like it read my mind...

an invitation from a crab by panpanya amazing manga/short story collection. after reading it i had to lay back and just stare into the nothingness. again it felt like it read my mind

kurosagi corpse delivery service episodic body horror/horror comedy detective mystery manga. its about a group of college students of a buddhist university who all have various odd ESP powers who try to help corpses lay in rest/peace. great ensemble cast and the dark horse official english translation is AMAZING especially if you are a huge nerd who likes reading footnotes

gay manga: my lesbian experience with loneliness and our dreams at dusk. the latter is a beautiful exploration of queer people, a very kind and sweet work (though check for trigger warnings). the former is a really raw memoir by a lesbian author. its beautiful and its relatable and its horrible and vulnerable. love it<3

junji ito in general great horror mangaka.

ive got more manga reccs but i think i did too many already and idk if they count as books im sorry for answering your ask bad 😭 anyway some more of my lame taste in books below the cut

favourite books no order off the top of my head and my goodreads: catch-22 (love you bisexual slut legend yossarion), contact by carl sagan, i robot by isaac asimov, alias grace + the handmaid's tale by margaret atwood. i love a clockwork orange (LOVE nadsat). i like maurice (em forster), a thousand splendid suns (khaled hosseini). also fingersmith and like water for chocolate. i liked carmilla but its honestly kinda mid 😭

love the hunger games uhhhh. love asoiaf obvi. i tried the first of the witcher novels (the short story collection) but they were too sexist for me and geralt was an annoying centrist. i was like but the elves are literally being oppressed God forbid they fight back. God Forbid renfri fight back against men! i liked jaskier though :) jesus christ thats a tangent

i actually like a lot of non fiction. jeanette mccurdy's recent memoir is a great read, as if ben mcintyre's operation mincemeat. i read ben raines' clotilda, about the last slave ship to smuggle captive africans to the USA. all three are interesting reads

finally karl marx's communist manifesto :) not a joke. very quick pamphlet. one day i will read lenin's imperialism i stg. my goodreads to read list is huge...

[scourge-lover]

Name 10 Characters from 10 Fandoms that you love

Tagged by @late-to-the-fandom thanks!

Arthas From World of Warcraft. He’s my genocidal, evil meow meow. Shadowlands treated him poorly but it's okay I make the canon now.

Geralt from the Witcher all media. Normal people hate him unless they need him to protect them from monsters, and he still does it. 

Alastor from Hazbin Hotel pilot episode. Evil cannibal meow meow that has excellent style. Can’t wait for the full show to come out so we can have more of his charming self. 

Temeraire from His Majesty’s Dragon book series. Very intelligent compassionate dragon who is ahead of his time. Embarrasses his human rider constantly but both rider and dragon still love each other so much.

Catra from She Ra on Netflix. Evil literal meow meow who is sassy and deserved to be happy with Adora. 

Emperor Belos from the Owl House show. Evil White colonizer, but he’s so well written I love to hate him. 

Toothless from How to Train Your Dragon movies. How could you look at that face and not love him?

Louis from Beastars anime. Idk, his whole complex relationship with carnivores is just so interesting, and his own insecurities are kind of relatable. 

Deet from the Dark Crystal prequel. She’s gentle and kind. She has such a strong connection to the environment which of course makes her uncertain future with that cliffhanger all the sadder.

Stitch from Lilo and Stitch. Little chaotic gremlin alien that finds a family. Causes me all the emotions.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Come Fly With Me

blame @thecomfortofoldstorries for enabling me

1950′s Pilot!Geralt and Flight Attendant!Jaskier au

tw: War mention, war injury mention

---

The year is 1958 and things are finally getting back to normal after the War... sort of.

Jaskier has been cut off by his parents for refusing to attend business school and take over the family vacuum factory, so he decides to get a job (you know, like not-rich people do).

What job would pay decently and allow him to see the world at the same time? Flight attendant, of course! 

He just needs enough money to get him to Oxenfurt, the heart of the raging Beatnik movement.

Geralt was drafted and ended up flying with the Witcher Corps during the war, eventually hoping to make a career of the air force. After his injury and subsequent honorable discharge, however, he needs a reliable way to make ends meet.

Luckily, luxury air travel has just come into vogue. With his incredible breadth of technical knowledge and air-tight credentials, Geralt has his pick of available flight paths: he chooses only red-eyes.

Flying odd hours prevents him from having to think about settling down and trapping some poor woman with his sorry excuse for companionship.

Before a late evening intercontinental flight, Geralt meets Morhen Airlines’ latest batch of flight attendants at the gate. One of them in particular, a brunette with striking features and a gloriously round ass, catches his attention.

He reads the boy’s nametag: Jaskier.

Geralt gets into the cockpit and forgets about Jaskier for a solid seven hours, until the sprightly young attendant peeks into the front of the plane with a neat, porcelain cup of coffee. “For you, sir?”

“Hmm.” 

They fly together three more times before parting ways. Jaskier always makes sure to give him the first cup from the last batch of coffee. The freshest cup made on any flight. 

Slowly, the two men get to know each other. 

Jaskier learns about Geralt’s injury and the way his leg hurts when the weather changes. 

He learns about the other Witcher Corps pilots, the ones who survived and the ones who didn’t. He holds Geralt’s hand one night at the hotel, letting the larger man cry without judgement.

Jaskier knows how hard it is to lose a family.

The attendant learns about Geralt’s two closest friends, his fellow Wolves and veterans, Lambert and Eskel. Practically Geralt’s brothers.

Geralt learns about Jaskier’s family situation and apologizes. “Nobody should have to go through that. You love each other through your differences, that’s what families do.”

Jaskier sighs and tells Geralt about how much he misses living near the coast. He tells the handsome pilot his greatest wish: to have a little cabin near the ocean, maybe with a dog or a horse. Maybe with a wife... or a husband.

Geralt learns that Jaskier has a beautiful voice, and Jaskier nearly faints when he says: “Sinatra’s got nothing on you, kid.”

And then their casual conversations turn into something else...

Jaskier lingers when he delivers coffee, sometimes just smiling at Geralt in silence.

He lets their hands brush when he gathers Geralt’s dinner dishes from the in-flight meal and blushes when their gazes meet.

He finds himself looking for Geralt in the terminal, searching out that shock of white hair beneath the pilot’s hat. 

Geralt finds himself dreaming of brown hair and blue eyes and a bright laugh.

Everywhere he goes he smells chamomile tea and fresh ground coffee.

They eventually come to realize that they’ve fallen in love.

One afternoon before a regular flight, Geralt arrives at the terminal out of uniform. Jaskier gives him a quizzical look, eyebrows wrinkling when the pilot removes the uniform hat from Jaskier’s head. 

“Geralt, dear heart, what are you doing?”

“Let’s go.”

“Go where? To see your brothers, to Oxenfurt?” 

“No, Jaskier.” Geralt hooks their pinkies together. “Let’s go to the coast.”

[tehded]

stuff related to this fic because its a masterpiece and i love it so much

 pilot uniforms are v cool, according to google search