#the witcher netflix
finleycannotdraw · 2 days ago
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geralt covered in monster guts has romantic comedic potential and I refuse to believe that selkiemore-eating-geralt thing didn’t happen multiple times. the first time it happened jaskier was probably very worried.
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y’all are gonna want to brush your teeth jesus christ that’s disgusting.
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amphorographia · a day ago
*police sirens in the distance*
Geralt, who has done nothing wrong: They're coming for me
Jaskier, currently wanted for pick-pocketing, aggravated assault, identity theft, credit card fraud, and arson: *sipping smoothie* yeah, probably
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hannibard · 6 hours ago
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original tweet
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ladyclwriter · a day ago
The Witcher Imagine
Illicit affairs
Geralt Of Rivia x gn! reader
Summary: Yennefer broke the witcher's heart again, and of course he would come at you to pick the pieces up. But you were tiredly, sadly in love. It's time to face the truth.
Bad words, sex mentioning, gaslighting, white wolf toxic behavior, emotional discussions, spicy angst.
A drug that only worked the first few hundred times
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Breathtaken. Pieces of wood and clothes on the floor, bed creaking to each little movement. Wet from head to toe, sweat soaking the messy, almost tore, linen. Your hair sticking to your head, body unable to move for minutes, legs shaking, back aching, lips scratching, throat hurting. Chest moving up and down as you tried in vain to catch your breath.
Sometimes, your mind was completely numb, body still on the clouds after a very deserved orgasm. And there was the nights where you could barely feel anything. Yeah, it was pleasurable. But five, ten minutes later, all left was sweat, misery and regret.
This is one of the nights where you lay in the middle. Body on the clouds, mind on the ground. You had two orgasms, Geralt had three after long hours of tiring wild sex. And right after he finished, he turned his back to you. You still remembered the times when only staring at the big muscle wall by your side was a blessing. How you traced each line with one of your fingers, filled with passion and lust. Each detail marked in your mind; his body was a map that you could read with your eyes closed. And after minutes only appreciating him, you would hug him by the back. Two warm bodies and one cold heart.
But it was when, two weeks and a half ago?
Two weeks and a half. You didn't touched him like a forsaken god to worship for. You didn't whispered I love you countless times, sometimes for no specific reason. You didn't cared when he got up in the morning to go whenever he had to go. You didn't asked how his day, week was. Didn't washed the monster's blood out of his silver hair, didn't cooked or even looked at him at all.
Two weeks and a half. Only fucking, leaving, coming back, fucking, leaving. He didn't care.
Some nights he only came to sleep. Some nights, to some casual sex. Some, rough and wild like the berserker he could be. And there was the nights like this one.
Golden eyes sparkling with tears. You stood holding the door, staring at him. The man who exales confidence and power, looking like the very portrait of misery. Not with black blood on his face, no. He was perfectly clean. Hair half loosen half up, all pale strings aligned where they should be. His outfit quite sharp, some leather with silk or whatever that shiny cloth was. You raised an eyebrow, holding back the question. You didn't knew if you actually wanted to know.
“Night.” he grunted, avoiding your eyes. You didn't answered because you didn't had to. At least he was still giving "good night"s, after so much time doing the very same thing.
You already knew how it worked. He knocks at the door (sometimes he doesn't), you open, he says a polite greeting, then he kiss you. What happened next was, of course, always the very same thing. Only with different timing, style, and taste.
Tonight his first kiss was bittersweet. One of his hands on your waist, the other one behind your neck, fingers entering your hair. He pulled you against him, mouth feasting hungrily with yours, biting your under lip without caring about blood. He didn't cared when you didn't moved any muscle, only letting him do whatever he desired to. Of course his animalistic groans still drives you crazy. Of course his strong grip — the strongest you ever felt — makes you forget about your pride. Of course you didn't cared when he threw you on the bed, his body upon yours like the starry sky blanketing the world as the moon rise up. Of course his touches made you shiver, ache, scream in pleasure. And he knew it.
But even with him inside you, even as he whispered dirty nonsenses in your ear, as you scratched his back — desperately marking him like your own —, you had tears in your eyes. Not for pleasure or pain. But for sadness. And now, you couldn't even cry. You kept staring at the ceiling, licking your bruised lips, uniting the courage you needed to speak.
“Geralt-” a squeak. Not even you heard your trembling voice. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “Geralt”.
He didn't moved.
“Geralt, I know you are awake. We need to talk” you did your best to sound confident, authoritarian. It took six breaths for him to click his tongue, making clear that he would angrily listen. “I'm tired of this.”
“Sleep, then”.
Anger snapped in your veins. You felt it, blood burning inside you, making your heart speed up, but you held it down.
“Take it serious.” he was pretty sure your voice tone was lower than the usual. “I had enough of this. You better choose if you want to have a life with me, or not.”
There wasn't anything else to say as he kept laid there, you staring at his back looking for any reaction, any sight of emotion. And after a while, he did reacted. He sat, legs spread in front of him, blankets perfectly falling where it should. Geralt only stared at the nothing, mouth open to say something. “I know you for years”.
“I don't care” you answered instantly. “Make a choice, Geralt.”
“Don't say my name like I'm guilty of something. And no, I'm not making a choice. There is nothing to be chosen”.
“Excuse me?!” you almost screamed, face expressing your offense. And damn, how a single sentence could hurt.
“I mean there is nothing between us. And I have nothing else too. You know that.” his voice lowered, becoming a grave murmur.
“That's the issue. I no longer want to be your escape. Your little toy, pet, to play whenever you need to” furrowing brows, you put one hand on your forehead. “Damn, Geralt. You know about my feelings!”
“Should it make any difference? I remember you saying it wasn't a big deal”-
“It fucking is! Shit.” you got up, hand still on the forehead, some pain growing there. Breathing as calmly as you could, you started walking slowly around the room. “It's been months of this, I'm fucking tired! Now you better choose, or just leave.”
“This what? What is this?” he looked at you, one brow up. “We were friends when you travelled with me. Then you settled down at this damn village, doing nothing but cooking and farming. Did you really like all of this?”
“We had this conversation before, and my life style is not an excuse for you to treat me like if I wasn't a rational being!” no hesitation, you stared at him, voice growing louder and pointing one finger of your calloused hands.
“But it is a reason for us to not be more than just friends. Or... Whatever the fuck we are now” he got up too, but reaching out for his clothes. You trembled inside, fearing that would be the last time you'll see him.
“Don't fucking blame me, Geralt.” you growled lowly. “We both know why we never even became real friends. We know why you always shut me out.”
He did knew it. He stood there, holding his pants up on his hip, looking at you. “No, I don't know.”
“Yes you do.” insisted, not one slight sign of positive emotions in your face.
Because yes, he does. He knows the reason to every inner struggle he has. The only one who can actually shake his heart, mind and soul. The purple eyes that haunted his dreams, perched through every single cell on his being. But none of you could say her name, even if only staring at each other you knew who you were thinking about.
You turned your back, inhaling heavily, trying your best to not be sad, but angry. It took a long while to this subject to come up, Geralt admitted to himself. Still, you two kept in silence. You had so much to say — but at the same time, you knew it would be useless. He knew he would choose Yennefer everytime; you accepted that shit as a fact a long time ago. Then, what was to be talked about? What was to be said, if your fate was already determined ever since the start?
“When I opened the door. When you took off your clothes. When you were inside me, and when you turned your back. All the time her smell was impregnated on you.” you kept talking at a low tone, rage suppressed as you tried your best to be mature. “Lilac”.
“And gooseberry”.
A stab in your heart. Yeah, you didn't had doubts; now you exactly couldn't. If your world was made of glass, it cracked in that moment. And if you were; you would be shattering. But no. You were flesh, blood and bones. So, proudly, you turned at the white haired man one more time.
“I no longer will accept you in my house. This was your last night in my bed. In my life” no hesitation. Not even trembling, voice completely still. “I demand respect, and we both know you no longer see me as a human being. I'm nothing more than a toy”.
“I would never disrespect you”.
“You did it all this time!”
Your face twisted, biting your lip to control your emotions. No fucking way you were going to cry. Not when he was there, standing plainly, shirtless, understanding your feelings but, at some sort of way, rejecting them. “Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me! Coming in, feasting my food and my body. Leaving and showing up whenever it pleases you. Showing up after that woman...”
You interrupted yourself as his eyes lit up when you would mention anything about her. He saw fire in your eyes too; that made him avoid them and look for his shirt somewhere. “Laying with me while thinking about her. All of that shit is surely disrespect. And I had enough”.
He didn't looked at you as he dressed himself, only boots remaining. Then, straight postured, he approached you. Somehow avoiding your eyes, he kept a soft tone. “I never, never had the intention to disrespect or dishonour you. And you shall– you must see that I never saw you as a toy”.
“What am I to you, then?” now your voice trembled. You didn't lowered your head, didn't avoid his golden orbes, determined to end all your worries and doubts. “This is the first time we share a conversation in a long time. This is the first time you look at me in a month! How could one with genuine feelings for another treat them this way?”
Geralt didn't knew how to answer. He realized his bad behavior a long time ago, but as time passed, he never found the strength to put up a smile and say "oh, how was your day? Good to know. Do you want to go to the fair tomorrow with me?". As time flies, the more he feels a little of himself dying; of you too. Whichever was the fond and joy you shared in your travels was gone. And as much as he craved to change things, as much as his soul screamed to wake up one morning and make you happy, he simply couldn't.
“I don't have it on me, darling.” for fuck's sake, you twitched as he called you like this — it has been, what, four months? “Don't you think I don't care about you. Don't you dare to think I only used you all this time”.
But you couldn't think anything else about this year. Months and months, each of them getting morbid and grey, until the very today. Until it became, well, this. You felt like your house became colder and darker the more he visited you; you couldn't stand be there for a whole day when he wasn't there. Infact, he never brought any light with him. Only more darkness.
“I deserve more, Geralt. If I am not eligible for you to have a life with, then you shall leave” you kept your determination, not moving one inch back or forth. “There is some really good men at this damn village. Men that wouldn't care about farming and cooking. Men that would give me good morning kisses, hug me when I'm sad and make me feel like I truly exist on their world”.
He knew it. Ever since the start; the very first days of you together, he knew. He knew he didn't deserved you, and you deserved better than him. Still, lonely and arrogant, he kept you to him. He held you and didn't let you free yourself to find true happiness. Now, he couldn't do it anymore.
“Your heart will never be mine. But I can have your soul, just like you have my whole being” raised one hand, placing at his chest, almost begging for him to look at you. “If you choose me, I'll gladly help you to get rid of your suffer. We shall work our way through all of this mist and darkness”.
Years with that little hope twinkling inside you. It was on his hands to turn them into your lighthouse, or extinguish it like a mere candle. “If you don't... Then I'll need time to get rid of you. Time to wash you from my body. Time to forget and move on, so I will be able to accept you in my house as a very old friend.”
And goddamn it, you felt like after this conversation you wouldn't be able to keep living under that roof. For sure you were moving somewhere else. There was no way you would stare at those walls, the bed, the table, without remembering him all the time.
He took your hand from his chest and raised it to his face, now, finally, eyes locked into a silent, emotional conversation. If Yennefer violet eyes haunted him, his golden ones would phantom you. Not only in your dreams. At the fair, the travels — if you tried to visit any other kingdom you would for sure see those eyes in the shadows. You would still look around constantly, tracking any motherfucker that would stare at the Witcher with prejudice. It would take a lot of time for you to get rid of that ghost. That big, handsome ghost.
“Can you give me some time?” you blinked. “It's... A lot to think about. I need time. Please”.
What is there to be thought? You wanted to angrily ask. A hurricane, a storm that destroyed him for years, and a shelter under the rain who always got his back. What is fucking there to be considered??
You only breathed deeply, closing your eyes to recompose yourself. Getting two steps away from him, you held your own hands in front of your body, behaving and controlling. “Alright. Four days”.
It would be enough. In four days you could look up for a new house, meet new people and sell some things on the fair. Yeah, four days. “Thank you”.
Damn, he said thank you. Then, silently consenting, both of you walked towards the door. His boots were there, so you just watched him wear them. He kept avoiding your eyes, posture completely tense. And then he got up, opened the door, took one foot out, only to turn around to you, holding the knob with one hand. “I'm sorry. Truly”.
“I am too”, you almost whispered. Staring at each other, there wasn't any stomach butterflies anymore. It was autumn, but the wind from the outside felt like winter with his snowy hair.
Things were truly cold between you; even if one hour ago, you were sweating and groaning. In fact, there wasn't any fire in that bed anymore. There wasn't any fire between you two. Geralt looked at you with misery, recognizing all of this. Recognizing that he has to choose between an inflaming passion, and true, breezy love.
He kept there, holding the door and looking at you. The sun didn't rose, not one torch on the pavement were lit anymore. Not even cats dared to disturb the scary peace of the night. Anyways, Geralt was a creature of night and winter — while you were day and spring. He didn't knew, he felt you were the only thing he needed to discover a new world. To open his eyes and soul to the beauty of life; to live, truly. Not live by a constant worry about someone that uses and throws you away, someone with confused feelings and a chaotic life, someone that was pure chaos.
In that moment, he realized. He realized he became as much as chaos as Yennefer was. He realized he darkened your life as much as the sorcerer did to his. He also realized that one single decision would change it all.
He didn't knew, he felt. He felt that you would make his life better. And that was a chance of a lifetime.
In the end, none of you felt. You knew he would choose chaos. It required too much courage, strength, motivation and, well, love, to move on from a whole poisoned life to golden hay fields of healing. And no, no way you were going to be his stepwheel.
“Forgot anything?” you asked, raising eyebrows with your arms crossed. He murmurs a hmm, looking outside, only to look back at you. For a little time, he looked like a little lost wolf.
“Fuck” you didn't understood shit. Anyways, all of sudden, he kissed you. One hand cupping your face, the other holding one of yours, interlocking fingers after tightly gripping your waist.
Your feelings got mixed and confused, your lips answering his in a natural, mechanical movement. He sighed between the kiss, sadness and lust and anger all coming together. The way he held your hand was almost painfully, your other hand hanging lifeless at the side of your body. You couldn't move more than your lips and tongue, shamelessly invading his mouth. When you parted, he didn't got away. The hand on your face fell down to your back, pressing you against him.
“I love you” he said lowly, foreheads touching as he knew you wouldn't believe him. “I hope you'll forgive me someday. For giving you misery and deprive you of happiness”.
I would certainly ruin myself for him 😁🙏
You exhaled, closing your eyes with the cold breeze. Dew hung in the air, the moon covered by clouds who were a sign of colder days. Days his surprisingly warm body wouldn't be by your side. “You know damn well, Geralt. For you I would ruin myself a million little times”.
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Alright, please tell me your thoughts. I quite feel like this got a little vague, empty. But I wanted so bad to write angst with him 😩 I really hope you enjoyed it, please tell me your thoughts.
See ya 🧡
Tagging: @sunndust
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mistahkato · 2 months ago
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Jaskier is going through a rollercoaster of emotions in this lol
Amazing original post is by @yeraskier
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underpreparedbard · 7 months ago
when your family asks if they can read what you’re writing
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alivedean · 9 months ago
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yennskier + text posts bonus:
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joel-miller · 9 months ago
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like father, like daughter
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geraskefer · 9 months ago
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2.07 | 2.08 (aka the two people most notorious for not needing anyone asking jaskier for help in the most tender ways possible)
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michelledixart · 9 months ago
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Realized i never posted my jaskier version of stańczyk by jan matejko
Its one of my faves lmao
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doodle-list · 8 months ago
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has anyone done this yet
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old-deerstalker-hat · 9 months ago
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saeculorum-art · 8 months ago
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Inspired by “The Meeting on the Turret Stairs” (1864) by Frederic William Burton
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henrycavilledits · 9 months ago
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HENRY CAVILL  Behind of the Scenes of Witcher S2
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spielzeugkaiser · 9 months ago
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If I got one thing from s2 it's OT3 feels 🙈
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feelsforsterek · 9 months ago
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a moment of silence for jaskier’s loss of brain cell privileges as a result of his himbofication this season ✿゚. * ・ 。゚
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annazees · 6 months ago
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crossing paths
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