#witchered
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@witchered sent: [ TILT ]: the sender gently tilts the receiver’s chin up so that they can check to see if they’re okay. @ yenn settling dust prompts | accepting
She would normally retaliate. She should've retaliated. No matter how "close" Geralt may've thought they'd grown since they'd met, Yennefer still wasn't totally enthused by the unexpected touch, especially in regards to her face. The coarse fingers brushed against her chin gently, but that desire to reel back was still ever so present. Her ever present scowl deepened, but managed to keep herself from recoiling.
Upon further inspection of her face, she thankfully didn't have have any prominent injuries. Nothing more than a few scratches to her skin.
"What are you looking for?" She asked, finally pulling away and taking a step back.
#none will raise to you a hand nor thumb { asks }#witchered#good riddance to all the fools who stifled me { yennefer interactions }
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@witchered liked for something small <3
"Let me guess. You wished to pester me instead of giving me a break for this winter."
Corners of her lips twitch to form a smile, a teasing one, as the female witcher gazed up at Geralt. To say Brenna was surprised to see her companion at the front gates of her fortress was an understatement. The two parted, hoping to see each other the following spring, but here was the very beginning of winter with Brenna only back at Kaer Seren for a little over two weeks, and Geralt decided to join her. She'd be lying if she didn't admit feeling her heart skipping a beat at the sight of him standing there.
Reaching up, Brenna brushed away the snow from white strands and broad shoulders while shaking her head. The sensation cold and moist on her fingertips. "Shall I get you warmed up inside or would you rather stand there in the snow?"
#witchered#{ brenna x geralt / 005 }#// good lord i love them#// also you do not need to match this i just went overboard with them awjghesrjhg
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@witchered asked: [ SHELTER ] sender can’t sleep due to a loud thunderstorm so they come to receiver’s bedroom to stay in their bed with them. @ brenna
❈ — The storm had progressed into a nasty one that evening, as the witchers tried their best to sleep through it. Brenna didn’t mind storms. In some odd way, they soothed rather than petrify her, unlike some she’d encountered whilst on her travels. Something about the cool dampness hanging in the air as the rain quenched the earth, its pattering a gentle lullaby of sorts along with the rumbles of thunder high above. It always seemed refreshing, in a sense.
The griffin did her best to allow the sounds of the storm soothe her to sleep. She could feel her body relaxing into the mattress, her eyes growing heavy as the rain pelted the window and the fire crackled near where she lie. Brenna did not, however, expect her door to be creaking open and so her head shot up to see who was entering her room. It was Geralt, shuffling in and shutting the door behind him. Tensed body relaxes, and her gaze softens as he slowly makes his way toward the bed. She sits up, revealing her tunic while fingers run through her hair sleepily.
“Are you alright? You look...vexed.”
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@witchered
#how the fuck am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?#ooc *:・゚✧#mobile mun#witchered
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Main timeline, after the first year on the Path. for Geralt (@witchered / affiliated).
❝ Fuck this fucking year on that fucking Path, leading to assfuck nowhere but pricks in fancy pants, field hand fucking the farmer's ugly missus. — the fucking monsters are the smallest problem of them all. I need a fucking drink — // oi! No no, not a cup, gimme the whole fucking bottle! ❞
Eskel is already intoxicated. The one thing he learned first on the Path was how to get pissed fucking thoroughly and then get the next well rounded whore on his lap.
The safety of Kaer Morhen has been sorely missed. It's been a horrible year. Like something stretched beyond their original tolerance it felt. Only here Eskel could calm down. But he didn't.
All he wanted was to get drunk and pass out in the entry hall. Waiting. Wishing. Wishing to see his love & the only love he's ever known..sunset eyes scan the room as another brother put a tiny mead barrel on the table next to him. No thank you is spoken, no gratitude is shown. Only Eskel and his stare. How he opens the barrel and fills his cup to the brim.
The smell of snow, goat and embers Eskel only ever noticed if he turned attention away from the doors.
Why is Geralt not coming?
Eskel had searched for him on the Path and never got any news. While he found out what Gwain and Lambert were doing, there was no trace of Geralt.
A pain, the missing of his heart, the reason for Eskel to live ...just isn't here with him and it breaks him.
What if he is dead? Please don't be dead, Eskel thought, now slowly becoming dizzy and drowsy from the booze.
Soon they'd send him upstairs to sleep it off. The merciful dullness of a drunken mind.
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|| x. continued from here with @witchered
Nothing was bad for business like a Witcher. It seemed no matter how many times they inadvertently crossed paths or wherever geographically they ended up, the natural aversion to Geralt’s otherness extended to Renfri no matter what circles and gangs she’d managed to amass in his absence. She worked better alone, though she survived by the protection of a pack mentality from time to time. It was Geralt’s unique moral philosophy that cost Renfri a fair bit of coin; his different opinion on what consisted of honest work for fair wages when Renfri preferred to view the rest of the world as her potential hunting ground. Her reputation far preceded her, fear served to insulate her from authorities as much as it tended to steer unsuspecting directly into the paths of her traps. While thieving other thieves wasn’t entirely frowned upon by the narrow margins of the law, it certainly displeased Geralt and colored his already less than favorable opinion of the former princess. And so she’d gotten creative, offering him a lucrative stake in the deal should they succeed and survive in taking to the caves of a known hostile rock troll in search of payment. Even Witchers needed money, that much was obvious by the state of Geralt’s clothes and armor but neither of them were exactly prepared when the troll made his own displeasure known not by attacking them directly but by using his surroundings. Fists slamming against rock caused the entire cavern to rattle and begin crumbling, leaving Renfri unstable on her feet just before dust and rock began to clatter from the roof overhead. Raising an arm up over her head in an instinctive gesture, it was a feeble attempt at protecting herself but Geralt was faster to react. Slamming against her and securing her into the nearest small alcove at the last second, she felt the breath knocked out of her for a moment as she sucked in dusty air and doubled over as far as the space would allow. Dirt and dust covered her hair and smudged her cheeks, small pieces and pebbles the only thing managing to touch her from Geralt’s bodily shield. Still coughing and sputtering as the air began to clear, Renfri pulled herself upright to find most of the pile of rubble stacked up where the troll once stood. Turning to Geralt as he straightened and rolled his shoulder, her expression briefly flickered to one of concern as she recognized the soreness and the brunt of the damage he’d taken in order to guard her from it. A hand reached out to touch his shoulder, pausing mid-motion as she thought better of it and retreated just as swiftly. “Fine. Better than that old lump anyway. Are you? Alright?” She eyed the pile restraining the rock troll briefly, knowing he was right and they needed to put distance between them and fast but her concern remained focused on Geralt as she gave him another once over and drifted closer to him to move out of the smaller space he’d pushed her into for protection.
#witchered#✲ RENFRI VELLGA [ interaction ]#✲ RENFRI VELLGA [ dynamic ] GERALT OF RIVIA#LOOK#she cares too. don't tell anyone.
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" do you think me stupid, geralt? " phillipa started, balling up her cloak in her hands and throwing at him in a fit of rage. " uneducated? that you thought you could just try and leave without me?! " standing in the remnants of their makeshift camp.
why was he trying to leave without her? didn't this trip require both of them?
" are you embarrassed to be within eye witness of me? is that it? " /@witchered
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@witchered
' he much preferred being upon dragon back, to be free of his worries with the wind hitting his face - apparently this was one of those times when such delights -- were robbed off him . what use was he here when his brother paid his council no attention ? fool . didn't he realise that having two heads , especially two heads that ' were of two Targaryens , two dragons , were better than the whole council that sat at his table ? better than those fat fucking cunt of lords who thought themselves. -- better then them , thought they were more than their equal .
' passing through the hallways , he came to an abrupt halt , lilac hues locking onto a figure before him . a man he had never seen before , a man who looked quite -- different from those around them - and yet he gave a short , almost sarcastic high pitched laugh " you are an odd looking fellow, aren't you ? " a grin pulling upon ' his face , yet it did not reach his eyes , no . walking forward he wrinkled his nose up " are you one of those experiments that have went horribly wrong in the citadel ? -- how interesting , bark for me . "
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ZAINAB JIWA AS GERALT OF RIVIA
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@witchered
#geralt and the never-ending saga of getting his arse handed to him by cursed and possessed princesses
#witchered#✲ RENFRI VELLGA [ visage ]#✲ RENFRI VELLGA [ dynamic ] GERALT OF RIVIA#✲ RENFRI VELLGA [ inspo ]#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ visage ]#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ dynamic ] GERALT OF RIVIA#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ inspo ]
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@witchered sent: ' your secret is safe with my indifference. ' @ istredd critical role starters | accepting
It was a struggle not to let out a sigh with the comment he received in turn. Lovely. Utterly charming.
He didn’t understand how Yenna would ever fall for a person like him. Brutish, crass. The exact opposite of herself. He’d give no comment. It was truly none of his business, but it wasn’t a crime to think that his former love deserved far better than Geralt of Rivia.
“That’s settled then, I suppose,” He mused aloud, letting his gaze fall from the witcher’s expression and back down at the book he’d been searching through before this conversation even began.
#none will raise to you a hand nor thumb { asks }#witchered#one more work straight through the night { istredd interactions }
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@witchered asked: ' my heart is holding on to you. ' @ brenna 🙃
❈ — The statement, or rather confession of sorts, surprises the Griffin and causes her to stop mid brushing her horse, Alistair. Blue orbs shift to meet golden hues, entrancing her as always whenever their gazes meet. The two have always been close, always having a special kinship ever since she found him years earlier. But lately they’ve grown closer and more open. Affection is shown more often and given more freely. Brenna was always the one to initiate it first but there were times, though incredibly few and far in between, where the Wolf would show his own affections first. A statement such as this, something quite intimate and deep, was never spoken before and though it did surprise Brenna, her lips curved into a sweet, adoring smile.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” She jests, bringing her arm down and dropping the brush into the sack. She takes a few steps forward, toward Geralt, and reaches out to take his hand in her own. The contrast in size is daunting and yet Brenna only smiles wider at it, before bringing her gaze back to his. “I thought I was too vexing at times. One too many eye rolls and groans from you due to my...antics, that you deem bothersome.” That’s in reference to all the times she’s made him have fun when instead he wished to be grumpy and stewing. Which was often.
#&. * brenna x geralt ( witchered ) ; 003#witchered#// help i love them so fucking much it hurts ;-;
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@witchered | accidental confessions | accepting
' once this is all over... let's talk about this again. '
“No– I won’t wait, Geralt.” Damaris would actually rather drop dead this very moment than be trapped in limbo, with the weight of her sudden confessions of love hanging in the air. Gods, she felt suffocated. Every passing second, every heavy thud of her heartbeat, only fueled the anxiety building her core, bringing the witch closer and closer to choosing between fight or flight. Even if it was just rejection, she would much rather know for certain than to be left hanging for the ‘right’ time.
“I picked a bad time, and I’m sorry– but if you feel the same I need to know now." And if he chose silence? Well, that would be answer enough, and they could put this foolishness behind them.
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bringing this back for @witchered // @viscountbard
2x02 ⇢ 2x07
#witchered#viscountbard#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ dynamic ] GERALT OF RIVIA#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ dynamic ] JASKIER#✲ PRINCESS CIRILLA [ visage ]
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for Geralt @witchered
Roaming the woods. Feeding. Sleeping. Staying motionless for hours, for days until the next prey showed up.
Eskel was consumed. Not completely, he was still self aware in a way, but mostly... his thoughts had been replaced by instinct, by needs, by the urge to survive or...create offspring.
But he was fresh, he was new, he was newborn-again, with his skin being bark, his heart being a rigid cold fist clenching and unclenching in his chest. His blood was resin now, flowing endlessly slowly.. his thoughts only... going slow. Only fast when prey. When prey was there.
In the rare moments of clarity Eskel wailed and wanted to die. It was so easy. All he had to do was to find a fire and step into it, getting burned to the core until his heart was ashes, his branch-hair, his resin-blood and his fist-heart.
Birds had nested on his head, his bark-hard and his leaf-hair. That's what prevented him from doing it, slipping in and out of consciousness.
The day Geralt turned up, Eskel froze. He's smelled him, heard him, before he was even close enough to see. Geralt.
He wouldn't pass as a tree for a Witcher. He would not be able to run or fight. Geralt, now here made Eskel cling to the last clear thoughts able to think. Can't hurt Geralt.
Won't hurt Geralt.
Until they met face to face, Eskel still motionless, covered in bird shit, drying leaves, a squirrel using him as a nut stash. No Witcher would ever take this mimicry seriously. They knew when they met a Leshen, even though Eskel did not entirely look like one.
"Ger-" he groaned. "-alt. Geralt."
The drawn swords, the cowering, made Eskel shake and move. Incredibly fast three leaps before he towered over his lover, former lover, lover of Witchers, of Eskel -- ready to drill his sharpened branches into that body that he loved so much, so long ago.
#witchered#please not that i hate tumblr user julian with all my heart for suggesting this <3#jk jk i love you <3
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