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witch-and-her-witcher · 2 years

Note

‘not wanting to let go’ hugs for the fam please 🥺

two ghosts | Yenralt, Ciri's POV, PG-13 only for swears, 1,700 Words

"Suck ... My ... Fat - Ah! Yes!"

Aggressive clacking of buttons fills the room. Paired with the intensely focused gazes of the two teens donned in headphones, bathed by the TV's glow in an otherwise dark bedroom, it's the most common scene for Friday nights in the off season.

"Ciri, left!"

Ciri pivots her player, but only in time to see the opposing shooter before her screen flashes. "Mother fucker!" The controller is tossed onto the soft bedding. It's only moments later that Dara becomes overwhelmed by the other team and joins her in equal dismay.

The duo pulls their headphones off.

"Well, that sucks," Dara laments.

Ciri rubs the back of her neck with one hand and pushes the other up to stretch her back. "I think we have another twenty before the next game starts." Her anger dissipates as quickly as it flares, realization of how long they've been playing in her stiff joints and empty stomach. "Wanna go down to the kitchen?"

Opening his mouth to answer, the other teen pauses. A dull plink plink catches both of their attention. Dara cocks his head to the side, Ciri scrunches her brow in concentration.

Plink. Plink plink.

"Is that coming from outside?" Ciri turns the TV off to cut out its light from the glare of her window and flops down on her stomach to peer out into the back yard.

Dara stretches out beside her, elbows pressing against each other's. "Oh, shit, is that - "

They see the dark clad figure just as he pushes back his hood, the shock of silver hair catching in the moonlight. A cupped hand releases whatever was held previously, and he squats to pick through the rocks that line the meticulously maintained garden path.

Ciri inhales sharpy.

"Is that - ?"

"My dad."

If Dara has to witness her dad's vodka fueled crooning's that lead to a night spent sleeping curled on the lawn furniture without a response from her mother, Ciri might die of embarrassment. Her dad straightens, no sway in his movements she notes, and his face is screwed up with determination with the next rock he hurls just next to her mother's bedroom window.

A resounding thunk echoes this time.

The response can be heard inside the house, teens peering over their shoulders as the door at the other end of the hall can be heard getting cast open. If Ciri thought the tone in the opening of the door was aimed at her, she would be diving for cover. As it is, her father knows what response he will elicit and has had decades of practice being the subject of her mother's ire.

There are no other sounds in the house - her mother always seems to float just above the surface of the ground, grace and elegance bundled up in the body of a middle-aged hippie. She doesn't look anywhere close to her age, claiming her homeopathic remedies are the cause - although, her dad used to shoot Ciri a knowing wink back before ...

Dara and Ciri turn their attention back out the window.

"I don't think I've seen your dad before," Dara says, assessing the tall, lithe man with currently only one of his many scars visible, the one that runs down the side of his face. "What did you say he does again?"

"Traveling salesman," Ciri lies easily.

"Are traveling salesmen always so ... jacked?"

Ciri shrugs. Her dad is standing, feet squared, face just as determined as earlier. Maybe the conversation they had leaving the gym the other day, when he joined her during her off season work out, stuck with him.

"Ciri, I think I fucked up."

"So? Fix it."

"I don't know if I can."

"Have you actually tried, dad? Really tried?"

They both knew the answer: the rest of the car ride home, or to her home rather, was silent.

When Ciri's mom had asked for a divorce nearly a year ago, her dad had taken off on a contract to a distant land without so much as cell reception, let alone the infrastructure to deliver divorce papers. Six months later, he returned: a sulking, brooding, occasionally drunkenly sobbing mess. Visiting him at Uncle Jaskier's was about the most depressing shit Ciri had seen, so obviously devastated by the split but frozen by his own stubbornness and inability to act in the ways that really mattered, for the people who really mattered.

Her mother is standing, arms crossed, storm of dark curls and youthful almond skin radiant in the moonlight. There's a distance between them that may seem inconsequential, but Ciri knows it's like a vast chasm. Equally tight-lipped, it's the little moments that Ciri has noticed the hollowness in her mother: the longing stares towards the empty spaces her father used to fill like his chair in the library, the forlorn sighs followed by hours with fingertips dug into the garden soil, and the prolonged times spent locked away in her bedroom.

"She's really letting him have it," Dara whispers, eyes darting to the side, "Are you okay?"

Ciri nods. "This is the most they've talked since she kicked him out." Her dad has remained in the same position, aside from the slight sag in his shoulders: worn down. Ciri knows it's not from the heated words, but from the lack of them for so long. Her parents have never been perfect, but they worked, they loved - when they had their heated arguments and got passed whatever issue hung between them. It was the lack of anything spoken between them, the lack of love, the months leading up to her mom kicking him out that did the most damage. Ciri had felt it, seen it, but distracted herself with school, sports, friends - anything else.

Anything that didn't remind her of the empty feeling house. Like living in a house with two ghosts, floating in the same space without any notion of the other.

Her mother's arms dropped to her side, no longer wildly gesticulating along with her words. Her dad takes a tentative step forward. Ciri chews her bottom lip. If they knew they were watching ... But that's what he gets for throwing rocks at the window like a teenager.

"I'm sorry."

The words are audible in his deep expression, the change in her posture like a coat of armor shed.

Another step forward, this one not as cautious.

He's close enough now that when her mother reaches out and slaps both open palms against his chest, he can pull her into him completely. Arms wrapped tight around her mother's small, wracking frame and head tucked safely under his chin.

Ciri gulps and spins away from the window on to her back. She didn't realize her heart was racing until now.

Dara whistles low in astonishment. "So ... Do you think ... ?"

The teen shakes her head, pressing the heel of her palms against her eyes. She doesn't want to get her hopes up. To have the house full again, her family full -

"Wanna kill some fucking zombies?" she asks, shooting up.

Dara smiles. "Hell yeah."

The teens stumble down the stairs to the kitchen in a barely awake stupor, stomachs growling and noses following the scent of breakfast.

Ciri squints, rubs her eyes, and squints harder.

A boyish grin is on her father's face where he sits beside her mother, elbows on the counter, head ducked but tilted towards her like there's something amusing about the way she gingerly sips from her mug of coffee.

"Good morning," her mother greets serenely.

Dara grunts his best polite response, drawn towards the freshly cooked sausage on the stove top and too familiar in the home not to help himself.

Ciri raises an eyebrow at her parents, hands resting on her hips. Like hell they're breezing over this.

As always, sixty percent of their words are unspoken between each other, but shared looks. A few moments pass and then her dad is filling his mouth with a fork full of food, staring contently at his daughter. A small smile and wiggle of his eyebrows as he chews, the give away.

"Your father will be visiting more often," her mom announces with finality.

"About damn time." Ciri lets her long legs carry her behind her thick-headed parents, wrapping both of her arms around their necks and pulling them closer to her. Her dad pretends to choke on his food from the hold, but both of them place a hand on the arm hooked around them.

Ciri was afraid this embrace wouldn't happen, both of them had drawn this out passed the point of dramatics. She doesn't want to let go again, ever.

As they've done since she was young, her parents turn to place simultaneous kisses on either of her cheeks while Ciri scrunches her nose in mock disgust. Her mother's perfume, the soft scratch of her father's stubble. Home.

"Dara, you'd better not think you can eat all of that while I'm distracted," Ciri shoots, cracking one eye open to glare at the boy trying to sneak the last of the sausage onto his plate. She gives them both one last squeeze before releasing her parents. "Although, I guess i can just steal some of yours - " Ciri snags a piece of toast from her dad's plate before he can swat her away and jumps just out of his reach.

"Geralt, you'll need to make more," her mother says with a slight eye roll, "They've been eating us out of house and home."

Us. Ciri's heart dances.

"What do you expect, Yen, they're teenagers. My brothers and I never stopped eating at their age."

Her mom snorts, a sound the walls of their house haven't heard in a while. "Just at their age?"

Ciri takes her dad's seat as he rises to return to the stove, purposefully leaving his half-eaten breakfast behind for her. It doesn't feel real yet, but she imagines with each visit it'll start to set in, until they aren't visits anymore and he's back with them completely.

Her dad ropes Dara into helping him cook, who looks even more bewildered standing beside the "traveling salesman" now that he's in a tight-fitting tee that reveals the rest of his musculature and work souvenirs. It's a terrible cover story, they really should think of something better.

Sighing happily, Ciri rests her head on her mother's arm. Yeah, it'll set in, but it doesn't need to be quickly.

--end--

Well. That took a life of its own, blame Harry Styles!

#touching ask meme #maureen asks #yenralt #witcher fan fic #modern au #my writing #ciri #dara #family ❤️

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kohhomaru · 1 month

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Did you lock the door on him…?

#gege giving me obsessions I never asked for #I will sign up to fight 4 arm freak cause gege is out of character to kill wish me luck guys #quick sketch cause I am actually out and touching grass!#sukuna #jjk au #digital art #sketch #sukuna fanart #jujutsu kaisen #male yandere #yandere sukuna #ref used #jjk #i dunno how to ref ref #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #meme art

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hashtagdrivebywrites · 3 months

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I am *dying* to know about #12 rn. Care to let me see a snippet? Maybe expound on its virtues? 🥺

-Faer

Ahhh okay, so this one started as a silly "wouldn't it be hilarious if Jason's dad was actually John Winchester" thought exercise (because my sense of humor is shot) after I forced one of my friends to watch UTRH with me, and it just. spiraled, violently. It's still ass-deep in chaos page hell, but I've been describing it as, "Red Hood and Justice League Dark: Great Value Edition".

* Older Scooby Gang * Sibling/Family Reveal * Reverse Identity Reveal (the bulk of the team doesn't know Jason is Red Hood (or an active vigilante at all) until the situation calls for Red Hood-level interference) * Danny "I am in desperate need of a trusted supportive adult" Fenton * Good Friends Tucker and Sam * Clueless Dean and Sam

"So," Sam opened both hands and held them apart, gesturing first at the little-big asshole that had kicked everything off just by existing, "you were dead."

Jason shrugged his stupidly huge shoulders, "I got better." The following 'And?' went unspoken but clearly implied.

Oh, Bobby was going to lose his damn mind when he got a hold of this kid.

Sam paused, needing a moment to process the fact that they were too late, again, before he angled his disbelief at the skinny little punk standing with his hands in his pockets and flanked on either side by his friends like bodyguards.

"You were dead."

The teenager coughed into his fist, "Uh, about that."

Sam paused. "You…weren't dead?"

The kid made a face and wobbled his hand in the air, all 'so-so' like.

"What," Dean shifted, every Hunter-honed instinct firing off in the back of his brain, "What the hell does that mean. Did you die, or didn't you?"

"I'm," He stopped himself, brows furrowed as he looked up thoughtfully, "An overachiever?"

"Technically you're an underachiever since you can't commit to a bit," The Kid Body Guard in the Beret helpfully pointed out.

The "underachiever" in question looked like he might argue, but ultimately agreed with a loose shrug of his shoulders. "Rude, but okay."

"What the hell does that mean. Sam."

"I don't know, Dean."

"And both of you have died," A woman cut in, heels clicking on the tile, "I was dead for fifteen minutes while on a case in Star City last December. Legally, Velma is also dead. You boys aren't special."

#ask games #fanfic #fic wip #crossover #Older Scooby Gang #The spiderman meme except its everyone whos died pointing at each other #Dean and Sam found out they had another little brother and it's a race against time to get to him before something else does #whoops lmfao #The Scooby-Doo cartoon and movies exist in this 'verse and the gang quietly hides their actual weird-mystery operation under it lmao #May or may not also include Eddie in it as one of the "team supers” - I'm catching up on comics and don't know a lot about him yet so #This group would technically be assigned “weird hopefully-not-apocalyptic level missions no one else wants to touch”#At least we hope lmao

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fuckmatpat · 4 months

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when I joined my art class group call and heard that MatPat was retiring I genuinely cheered.

this is so real. i share a similar sentiment (yelled "LETS FUCKING GOOOO!!")

#mod cyrus #good meme /lh #i was like no fcuking way man #i thought it was so funny #finally. he can go touch grass . or something . maybe grow and change as a person idk #monstrousmaws #matpat retirement #asks

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curiositymemes · 27 days

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ENCHANTED APRIL SENTENCE STARTERS.

taken from the 1991 film, an adaptation of the 1922 novel by elizabeth von arnim. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

“it seems so wonderful and it's such a miserable day.”

“it’s not worth wasting one’s time thinking about.”

“i don’t suppose that means much to you. sometimes it doesn’t mean much to me, either.”

“you look as though you wanted it as much as i do.”

“you look so beautiful and so sad.”

“if you wish for something hard enough, it happens.”

“but no one will know I’m there even if i am.”

“have you ever seen things in a kind of flash before they happen?”

“i’m sure it must be wrong to be good for so long you become miserable.”

“i can see you’ve been good for years, and you aren’t happy.”

“i’ve been doing things for other people since i was a little girl, and i don’t believe i’m loved any better.”

“you must believe I’ve never spoken to anyone like this in my life.”

“i don’t know what’s come over me.”

“you should have been there, my dear. i missed you.”

“that’s rather a depressing thought.”

“god must know an awful lot. why doesn’t he do something?”

“there’s something immoral about all this.”

“all i wish to do is sit in the shade and remember better times and better men.”

“i hope you’re not in the habit of seeing dead people, however distinguished. it’s not in the best of taste.”

“i mean, we’re not businessmen, are we? they have to distrust each other.”

“i want to just sit and not talk and not think.”

“well, it’s very wearing. everyone makes demands… especially men.”

“you look lovely.” / “i know. thank you, name.”

“we could both do with a change.”

“it really is the most extraordinary coincidence.”

“I’m afraid it’s all settled, name. i can’t go back on my word.”

“do you suppose it’s all real?”

“were you ever in your whole life so happy?”

“i promised myself the first thing to happen in this place would be a kiss.”

“we were going to choose the nicest room for you.”

“we were going to make it pretty for you with lots of flowers.”

“you shouldn’t be so independent that people have no chance to be generous.”

“you know, i hadn’t realized you were so pretty.”

“you’re really quite lovely.”

“i was just thinking about cuckoos for some reason.”

“i suppose you realize we’ve got to heaven.”

“i intend to spend most of my time reading by myself.”

“you have the most interesting habit of answering a question with the same question.”

“if i can be left quiet for one month, forget things… i might be able to get myself straight.”

“i’ve wasted so much time being beautiful.”

“what she really wants is to be left alone.”

“soon she won’t have to try… she’ll just be herself without trying.”

“don’t worry about me. I’m just lying here thinking.”

“then i have had all the trouble of coming out here for nothing.”

“we’ve just discovered it.”

“why don’t you like us being here?”

“we just didn’t know about it, that’s all.”

“i’ve written and told him everything.”

“it would be mean not to share all this.”

“the important thing is to have lots of love about.”

“i had this obsession with justice, you see.”

“i’d like to stay here and think.”

“that’s very imprudent and very improper.”

“have you noticed how difficult it is to be improper with no men about?”

“it’s a good feeling, getting rid of things.”

“i want to love name, but not necessarily spend every night with him.”

“i haven’t felt this restless since i was a child.”

“it’s too absurd for someone my age.”

“i feel something is going to happen. but i won’t let it.”

“it’s odd how one’s mind slips sideways in a place like this.”

“if you knew me, you’d know how strange it was.”

“there’s no way back.”

“isn’t it beautiful here, name? the air is golden.”

“you’re here. that’s the important thing.”

“you’ve every right to be angry with me.”

“where else would you meet such interesting people?”

“i don’t want name worried in any way.”

“i like him. I didn’t think i would, but i do.”

“all the advantages i was born with, and i’ve misused them.”

“i have it all. why can’t i hold onto it?”

“you have a gift for happiness.”

“well, it’s like coming home.”

“i mean, well… i don’t know what i mean.”

“i’d believe any place you lived in would be exactly like you.”

“isn’t it better to feel young somewhere than old everywhere?”

“oh, good gracious, child.”

“so you see, dear boy, you must stay here.”

“it’s such a pretty story.”

“i thought you might be bored.”

“sweetheart… i’m so glad you came.”

“you’re right, name. it’s this place.”

“and i’m late on your very first evening. do forgive me.”

“it’s a great thing to get on with one’s loving and not waste time.”

“she sees what we can’t see because she loves him.”

“oh, dear name, we must be friends forever and forever.”

“i couldn’t help noticing how miserable you seemed.”

“oh, what the devil. it’s too beautiful a night to be miserable.”

“all my dead friends don’t seem worth reading tonight. they always say the same things, good things, but always the same.”

“i’m tired of the dead. i want the living.”

“thank you, my dear. i was feeling a little melancholy.”

“it does seem that people can only be happy in pairs, all sorts of pairs.” / “then you and i will be a pair, name. we’re going to be very good friends.”

“the roses are in love in the rose garden.”

“but that’s another story.”

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breezy-cheezy · 1 year

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For the Valentine's Hugs, may I request Vash the Stampede? (Tristamp or OG design are both fine, whichever is better for you!)

So I got this before I clarified the guidelines but also saw this as an opportunity for 2 Vash hug! Trimax Vash is Tristamp's Vash's big brother in my head, let them hug and rest from the Horrors for a bit ☺️

(Requests are closed now btw)

#my art #doodles of doom #Trigun #trigun stampede #Trigun maximum #Manga #Vash the stampede #crossover #kinda #platonic hugs #love alternate versions of same character and their inherent differences #but also enforced self love because you know trimax Vash would see stampede Vash going through it like oh....poor sprout #cmere #not mentioning his own pain but being able to feel...sympathy? for one who is you but not #also stampede Vash is much more touch starved and doesn't know what to do with this jsjfjjvjdj #palentines day hugs #ask meme #why was trimax Vash's hair easier to draw JDJJFJD JD #the coat wasn't tho lmao

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leavingautumn13 · 7 months

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y'all are lucky it's an emerald kick i'm on right now and not an oras one because i get weird and feral about how characters in oras are aware of the narrative they're in and react differently to it depending on which game you're playing

#pepe silvia meme dot png #listen. listen. if you're playing alpha sapphire then you're the antagonist in archie's story.#if you're playing omega ruby maxie's the antagonist in your story and he leans into the role with glee.#(also he's much friendlier than people give him credit for. he has a whole monologue in seafloor cavern about how #happy he is to see you even though he knows you're about to fuck up his plans #and archie does NOT have equivalent dialogue in alpha sapphire he just gets right into kicking your ass)#(i'm so normal about maxie you guys)#when zinnia asks if you've ever had to hold back your grief... if you answer ''no'' she LAUGHS #and says ''don't you know you're supposed to agree? and then we can share a touching moment of pain?''#i'm also totally normal about zinnia #god #''don't you know you're supposed to agree'' fucked me up so bad and all i did was read about it on bulbapedia #there's no place like hoenn #<- resurrecting this old tag #edited to add: ALSO ''s/he's the hero. right?''#GOD I LOVE ZINNIA #broke: zinnia did nothing wrong. woke: zinnia did everything wrong while speedrunning the five stages of grief

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aseuki · 14 days

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🐛💜 for stell yippee

[ask meme]

Yippee! Yay! Here we go!!!

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

Stell certainly likes to say that he is fearless, but he has fears just like any other being, better masked as they may be.

The thing Stell values above all else is agency, his sense of control over a situation. He worked hard to get to where he is now, and anything that threatens to tip the delicate balance he's built will send him scrambling to set things straight. They've clawed their way out of dark days, and they'll do anything to not slip back to the bottom.

Otherwise, you can also toss dirt at them and watch them freak out hahaha

💜 (Purple Heart) - If they were corrupted by the Jamba Heart, which negative traits of theirs would be amplified?

*looks at them* would there even be any difference asdlkfdjsfnf

If Anything they may end up becoming more proactive in their tendency to look for a challenge, becoming much more easily aggroed and actively seeking out others to challenge rather than simply waiting for them to come to him haha

#qna #kirby oc ask meme #stell #parhelion knight #doodles #ayoooo took me a while to find the time (and beans) to best answer this haha #Holds these up. Behold. Stell baby picture (2nd time I've shown this)#itty bitty snowball of a baby guy who could easily fit in your palm #Looks at them now. What happened. (<-knows)#throws dirt at them #woe. Dirt be upon ye.#this is why they're so messed up they haven't touched dirt in like a billion years #Also laughing at the jamba heart ask bc dang guy who is so sucks got only a little bit more sucks.#Was trying to figure out a more unique angle #but a lot of the thoughts honestly overlapped p hard with their Mirror version but it's ok it's Funny this way :)

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indigosfindings · 12 days

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🔥scp (assuming ur particularly familiar with it)

honestly it's been a long time since ive really engaged with scp (beyond, like, occasionally reading one that gets sent to me or crosses my dash once every few months), so this take might be ~10+ years out of date but:

i remember that a lot of the stories (i mean the fanfic-style stories on the site, not the like log entries) were about these Grizzled Troubled Hypercompetent Hyperrational Science Men who were like always right, always outsmarting everyone, always a mouthpiece for the author's opinions, always broody in a 'weight-of-the-world' sort of way like a christopher nolan protag, etc. and there was this hilarious cognitive dissonance between that and the broader online nerd culture's attitudes circa early 2010s. like.... overpowered self-insert mary sues are fine, but only if theyre also addicted to cigarettes

#is scp still like this?? i genuinely dont know. sorry if this is out of touch lmaooo #indigoing #ask meme

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fierymcmes · 2 years

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The ultimate affectionate gestures compilation ( version 3.0, improved and even more extended )

Send one of the following prompts for my muse to reach out affectionately to yours!

Feel free to combine them ( example: send [ brush ] + [ push ] for my muse to brush the loose strand of your muse’s hair our of their face and then push it behind your muse’s ear ), reverse them ( example: send [ reverse + caress ] for your muse to caress my muse’s cheek ) and/or add details.

[ tilt ] - for receiver to tilt sender’s chin gently to prompt them to make eye contact with receiver

[ curl ] - for receiver to curl their fingers under sender's chin while resting a thumb on their cheek, not quite tilting but just... holding

[ cup ] - for receiver to cup sender’s face with their hand/s

[ caress ] - for receiver to caress sender’s cheek

[ place ] - for receiver to place their hand over sender’s hand where it’s placed on receiver’s cheek

[ boop ] - for receiver to boop sender on the nose

[ nose rub ] - for receiver to brush their nose against sender’s nose

[ nose ] - for receiver to kiss sender on the nose

[ palm ] - for receiver to kiss sender on the palm

[ back ] - for receiver to kiss sender on the back of a hand

[ knuckles ] - for receiver to kiss sender’s knuckles

[ shoulder ] - for receiver to place a kiss on sender's shoulder / shoulder blade

[ nape ] - for receiver to place a kiss on the nape of sender's neck

[ jaw ] - for receiver to place leisurely kisses along sender's jaw

[ cheek ] - for receiver to kiss sender on the cheek

[ lips ] - for receiver to kiss sender softly on the lips

[ forehead ] - for receiver to kiss sender on the forehead

[ lean ] - for receiver to lean in and press their forehead against sender’s forehead

[ pepper ] - for receiver to pepper sender’s face with kisses

[ eyes ] - for receiver to kiss sender’s closed eyelids

[ tears ] - for receiver to kiss away sender’s tears

[ wipe ] - for receiver to wipe away sender’s tears

[ gaze ] - for receiver to gaze into sender’s eyes

[ stare ] - for receiver to look affectionately at sender / follow sender's movements with a look full of fondness

[ roll ] - for receiver to roll their eyes affectionately at sender

[ scalp ] - for receiver to massage sender’s head

[ pat ] - for receiver to pat sender’s head

[ brush ] - for receiver to brush the hair out of sender’s face / eyes / forehead

[ push ] - for receiver to push the loose strand of sender’s hair behind your muse’s ear

[ top ] - for receiver to kiss sender on the top of their head and then rest their cheek against it while holding sender close

[ chin ] - for receiver to settle their chin on the top of sender’s head while holding them close

[ hair ] - for receiver to place lots of short, sweet, messy little kisses on the crown of sender’s hair

[ run ] - for receiver to run their fingers through sender’s hair

[ stroke ] - for receiver to stroke sender's hair / head

[ twirl ] - for receiver to twirl a strand of sender’s hair around their finger

[ hand ] - for receiver to place their hand on sender’s shoulder / neck as a way of supporting / comforting / reassuring them that receiver is there for them

[ wrap ] - for receiver to wrap their arm around sender’s shoulders

[ massage ] - for receiver to massage a specified part of sender's body (ex.: hand/s, foot/feet, knee/s etc.)

[ relax ] - for receiver to massage sender’s shoulders and/or neck

[ soothe ] - for receiver to rub sender’s shoulders soothingly

[ rub ] - for receiver to rub sender’s back

[ body ] - for receiver to give sender a full-body massage

[ snuggle ] - for receiver to snuggle to sender’s side

[ waist ] - for receiver to wrap their arm around sender's waist

[ support ] - for receiver to support sender with an arm around their waist / shoulders and/or pull sender's arm across receiver's shoulders to better support their weight

[ catch ] - for receiver to catch sender as they stumble or collapse from exhaustion / sickness / injuries

[ lift ] - for receiver to lift sender up in their arms

[ shield ] - for receiver to shield sender from a threat, be it a person or a force of nature

[ tackle ] - for receiver to tackle sender, playfully or to shield from danger

[ come here ] - for receiver to gently pull sender towards them for a hug or a dance

[ behind ] - for receiver to hug sender from behind

[ rest ] - for receiver to hug sender from behind and rest their cheek against sender’s back / shoulder

[ rock ] - for receiver to hold sender and rock gently from side to side

[ tuck ] - for receiver to tuck sender against their chest, covering them with their jacket / coat fronts, in order to keep them warm / safe from rain

[ head ] - for receiver to rest their head on sender’s shoulder

[ sit ] - for receiver to settle down on sender's lap

[ lap ] - for receiver to place their head upon sender’s lap

[ guide ] - for receiver to guide sender to place their head upon receiver’s lap

[ chest ] - for receiver to hide their face in sender's chest

[ hide ] - for receiver to guide sender to hide their face in receiver’s chest

[ heartbeat ] - for receiver to place their head upon sender’s chest, right over their heart, to listen to its beat

[ listen ] - for receiver to guide sender to rest their head upon receiver's chest, right over their heart, so they can listen to its beat

[ help ] - for receiver to give sender a hand when they’re stepping up or over something

[ touch ] - for receiver to touch the back of their hand to the back of sender’s hand as if inviting to hold hands

[ thumb ] - for receiver to run their thumb over sender’s thumb while holding hands

[ hold ] - for receiver to hold sender’s hand and interlace their fingers

[ squeeze ] - for receiver to squeeze sender’s hand

[ fingers ] - for receiver to play with sender’s fingers absent-mindedly

[ shapes ] - for receiver to trace imaginary shapes on sender’s skin

[ cover ] - for receiver to cover sender with a blanket / jacket / coat as they’re lying down

[ drape ] - for receiver to drape a blanket / jacket / coat around sender’s shoulders

[ comb ] - for receiver to brush sender’s hair

[ braid ] - for receiver to braid sender’s hair

[ nails ] - for receiver to tidy sender’s nails and/or do a manicure

[ makeup ] - for receiver to help sender put on their makeup

[ jewelry ] - for receiver to help sender put on a piece of jewelry

[ tie ] - for receiver to help sender do their tie

[ scarf ] - for receiver to tie a scarf around sender's neck so they won't get cold

[ smooth ] - for receiver to straighten sender’s collar / lapel / brush a hand over sender’s clothes to smooth them out

[ zip ] - for receiver to help sender zip their dress / jacket / button their clothes

[ dress ] - for receiver to help sender put on an item of clothing

[ unbrella ] - for receiver to share their umbrella with sender to save them from rain / scorching sun

[ cook ] - for receiver to cook something for sender

[ treat ] - for receiver to offer new food / receiver's favorite food to sender

[ feed ] - for receiver to feed sender

[ drink ] - for receiver to help sender drink

[ cocktail ] - for receiver to make a cocktail for sender

[ pour ] - for receiver to pour sender a drink

[ bath ] - for receiver to draw a warm bath for sender

[ water ] - for receiver to join sender in the bath

[ wash ] - for receiver to help sender with washing their hair / body

[ blowdryer ] - for receiver to help sender dry their hair with a blow dryer / a towel

[ towel ] - for receiver to dry sender's body / clothes with a towel

[ spread ] - for receiver to spread out a blanket / towel / carpet on the ground so that sender and they can sit on it

[ blanketfort ] - for receiver to build a fort out of blankets, pillows etc. for / with sender

[ picnic ] - for receiver to invite sender to a picnic

[ swim ] - for receiver to invite sender to swim with them

[ hobby ] - for receiver to share their favorite pastime with sender

[ teach ] - for receiver to help sender learn something / how to do something

[ read ] - for receiver to read something aloud to sender

[ trinkets ] - for receiver to show sender and/or tell them about things in their possession / things they love

[ beckon ] - for receiver to beckon sender towards them

[ whisper ] - for receiver to whisper something in sender's ear

[ tickle ] - for receiver to tickle sender

[ cheer ] - for receiver to try to cheer sender up

[ faces ] - for receiver to make funny faces at sender

[ shove ] - for receiver to playfully shove sender

[ pull ] - for receiver to pull sender down to sit on receiver’s lap

[ bed ] - for receiver to push or pull sender back on the bed when they try to get up

[ cloth ] - for receiver to bath sender’s face / neck with a cloth soaked in cool water

[ patch ] - for receiver to patch up sender's wound/s

[ pain ] - for receiver to kiss sender where it hurts to soothe their pain

[ trace ] - for receiver to trace sender’s scar/s with the softest press of their fingertips

[ ask ] - for receiver to ask sender about their scar/s

[ scar ] - for receiver to kiss sender’s scar/s

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jadequarze · 2 years

Note

pushing a strand of hair behind their ear or touching foreheads with Imodna perhaps?

foREHEAD TOUCH!!

#asks #Anonymous #jade draws #art meme #imodna #cr3 #how about both?#forehead touch bELOVEDS!!!!

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witch-and-her-witcher · 2 years

Note

calloused hands in soft hands for the touches ask game!! and yenralt obvi <3

yenralt, T (canon typical violence/themes), dark/comfort, 2,000 words

cw: implied child abuse

The cottage by the sea: all Yennefer was promised in the euphoric daydreams after the Witcher had spent his passions in, on or haphazardly around her (with the last scenario, the daydreams intensified to reduce her ire for damaged books caught in the crossfire.)

When Geralt had left her with a chaste kiss at Corvo Bianco with instructions to meet him in several months at the location once he was done sojourning through the continent, he had only given her an image of glittering waves and skittering seabirds on sandy beaches dotted with jutting rocks. He had hidden the stone masoned cottage with it's overgrown ivy wall coverings and simple, yet elegant interior of hand crafted wood beams and furniture.

Yennefer had still provided some of her own furnishings for comfort, but she was pleased when she arrived to find an open-air alcove hidden by panels from the exterior that housed a large soaking tub. Whether cooling her skin with water straight from the nearby sea after a walk along the shore or steaming with heat and herbs for relaxation under starlight, it perfectly served - an uncommon accolade from the Enchantress.

There was no ruse that Geralt found himself this far north for a reason beyond work, but the cottage was a nice surprise. The Witcher's semi-retired life meant occasionally he was called to aid a town in need and Bandon-By-The-Sea was a town that certainly qualified. When she arrived, Geralt spent the first evening paying tribute to her body he had missed so desperately - but once sated, talked into the early morning hours about the complexities of the contract.

At first, Geralt was convinced it was a straightforward Vodyanoy tormenting the town by the drownings and violent deaths that seemed to centralize around the tributary river that poured directly into the sea, but upon further investigation he found oddities. The only bodies that didn't reappear were those of children and even then it seemed to be a specific set of children, young girls between the age of six and nine. Eight had gone missing in total between villagers and passersby, with another dozen dead bodies of those who had accompanied the girls at the time of their disappearance.

"It doesn't make sense," Geralt had grumbled two nights prior, soaked from the waist down in river bank sludge, angrily swiping his silver sword clean of Drowner blood, "None of the creatures I've encountered here have such peculiar tastes, certainly not a Vodyanoy. And the villagers are unwilling to cooperate with me."

The ninth girl had gone missing, now one Geralt had connected with personally during his investigation.

Yennefer peered up from her tome, nose crinkled against the offensive smell of the Witcher. "I believe you were warned this was a difficult contract? And really, must you tend your sword before ridding yourself of that stench?"

Further grumbles of her unhelpful nagging had flown from the Witcher as he stomped reluctantly out of the cottage to finish his sword cleaning in the company of "more agreeable creatures". Yennefer had returned to her page, unperturbed by Geralt's cantankerous nature when he couldn't solve a mystery right away. Especially when his heart had been stirred. It was useless to advise him against emotional investment, her Witcher knew no other way it seemed.

The crickets chirp and owls hoot as Yennefer soaks in the tub this particular evening, a glass of her favorite dry red in hand. She can taste the smokiness of the oak barrel the wine aged in on her tongue as the aroma fills her nose from swirling the glass.

There's no give away the Witcher has returned until Yennefer nearly jumps out of her skin when two unnatural orbs catch her attention just outside of the light from her candles.

Geralt is soon illuminated by the light, as her heart rate slows to a gallop in her chest, when he makes the sacrilegious move to toss his swords to the ground against the stone wall of the cottage angrily. The buckles of his armor are undone with less practiced ease, some fumbling occurring, before also being tossed to the side without the normal care.

His eyes are as distinct in his face as they were in the night, but instead of the cloak of darkness it's deep, arterial blood caked onto his skin that sets them apart.

Yennefer bites her tongue when the Witcher discards his boots, but nothing more, before plunging into the tub with her. There's plenty of space for both of them, but Yennefer yelps when a viscous piece of something mammalian tissue nearly touches her skin. Dipping her fingertips into the water, a spell illuminates an orb around her submerged anatomy, slowly dimming but effectively forming a barrier to the tainted water.

The silence is heavy: Yennefer naked, holding a glass of wine, and blinking slowly to maintain her composure while across from her the man she thought had no surprises left for her sits still dressed, covered in visceral matter, face pulled into a hardened expression but mind obviously eons from this location. It's unconventional, even for them.

The Enchantress forces herself to find some semblance of peace again, fighting the urge to leave the water in a huff of disgust. Much between them is unspoken and she has become well versed in the aura that surrounds her lover - something out of the ordinary has occurred that she will need to handle solicitously.

The notion to read his thoughts is tempting, but the dark swirl of emotion about him warns Yennefer otherwise.

Finally, stirring in the Witcher. Geralt lifts an arm, sleeve dripping, to scrub a hand over his face. The movement seems to garner no realization of his peculiar arrangement, but his eyes do seem to focus to his current surroundings around the jagged water lines drawing down his skin.

"I hope you've enjoyed your furlough, we'll unfortunately need to leave at first light."

"First light?" Her words are soft so as not to spook a nervous animal.

Geralt is looking in her general direction, but he doesn't see her. "I imagine that's when they'll find the body and come looking for the responsible party. I've had enough pitchforks for one lifetime."

Yennefer hums and then takes a tentative sip from her wine glass. That seems to draw the Witcher's attention and his gaze narrows on the glass. "Thirsty?" She asks, offering the glass. This is more than an offer of wine as it's common knowledge between the two of them Yennefer doesn't share, understood in the light nod and appreciative acceptance of the glass.

Geralt knocks the remainder of liquid back in one gulp, wincing as it makes it's way down his likely dry throat. The Enchantress waves her fingertips, the wine bottle floating to her from the nearby table so she can refill the glass for him. Geralt grunts in acknowledgement, is polite enough to take two swallows to drain the content, before setting the glass to the side.

The wine hitting his system alights a flicker of recognition as he seems to regain his connection to the present. Geralt grimaces at his state and that of the murky tub water, save the clean water behind Yennefer's protective spell. "I'm sorry, I've ruined your bath."

Yennefer waves off the comment. "Would you like me to assist in removing those ... damp, clothes for you?" She avoids "unfit for existence" or any other typically capricious description she would use.

A grunt of agreement, so Yennefer snaps her fingers and the Witcher's waterlogged clothes lift away in a glowing haze.

"Why don't you turn, my dear Witcher, and I can help remove the remaining excess layer?"

Geralt begins to protest that he should clean himself, but Yennefer smiles comfortingly as she would for Ciri during a particularly hard time. "I insist." And he gives in then, turning and scooting so that she doesn't have to strain to reach his hair or skin.

It's slow, delicate work as Yennefer scrubs his skin clean with a sponge she conjures from the sea floor. When the worst is removed, she uses what will likely be the last of her magic for the evening (if they're to make a hasty exit in the morning) and switches out the waste filled water for fresh sea water, a warming spell breathed onto it as it floats to them.

"Thank you," Geralt breathes and she can visibly see his muscles relaxing against her caring touch.

Although still working chunks of matter from his hair, Yennefer reaches for her strongest will against her more egregious potion ingredients, and peppers several kisses along the Witcher's cheek. The soft sigh of release that leaves his parted, chapped lips goads her to wrap her arms around his firm chest and pull him back against her. Yennefer is by no means under any veiled belief she's naturally soft or giving, but for her Witcher she can play the part every so often.

When the full contact of their skin occurs, a sudden ghastly scene is projected to the forefront of Yennefer's mind. The gasp escapes before she can clamp her lips shut and the Witcher can shove the image away. If that's what's occurred...

The comb and oil and she has been working through his hair forgotten, Yennefer traces patterns along the sinewy muscles of Geralt's chest. His hands raise from the water to grasp hers, calloused and worn in her soft grip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ..." But his voice drifts off. He never intentionally shares the grizzly nature of his work and although Yennefer typically views it with less sentimental attachment than he does, she can appreciate his caution this time.

Yennefer tucks her chin into the hollow of his neck and shoulder. She squeezes his hands, pushing aside the uncomfortable sensation of wrinkles in her skin from too long in the water.

"It was the magistrate staying in town, that's why they were all afraid to talk," Geralt explains, voice husky in an attempt to control the amount of emotion lacing his words, "Who knows how many other villages he's preyed on, all of the girls -" The rest chokes in his throat.

It doesn't take much imagination to fill in all Geralt stumbled upon. The singular image of his gaze sweeping over the contents of the old watermill - Yennefer shivers. The savage, sadistic nature of human behavior is an evil she has yet to grow immune to throughout the decades.

"Its over, my love," Yennefer coos gently, "You rid the world of another monster."

"I didn't, I couldn't save ..." Geralt's body heaves with a long, drawn out sigh as if physically pushing the troubled thoughts from his body. "But, there will be no more."

Yennefer nods her head against him, let's her hand covered with his press above his slowly beating heart. What would he do with a normally functioning one? It surely would have burst by now from it's unrequited love and hope for the world.

"I love you, my dear."

Geralt turns, catching her lips with his own. It's warm and alcoholic. "I love you, Yen."

"Your pure heart is my second favorite organ of yours," she jokes light heartedly, once again out of character but obviously needed to help her Witcher in this moment. They could process the rest later, if he chose.

A light chuckle. "My scholarly mind?"

Yennefer walks her fingers down the damp skin of his torso. "Hm, it is rather studious, but I was thinking lower down." She laughs easily. "Why don't I finish cleaning your hair and we retire to the bed before we make our bandits escape in the morning?"

Geralt hums in approval, although they both know the only intimacy they will take part in this evening will be holding each other close and reminding themselves of the goodness they have been able to scavenge out of this world. And they have found such sweet goodness.

Yennefer tells herself she must remember to pay more tender attention to her Witcher moving forward, not just wait for these moments, so the good memories can outweigh the horrors he's collected with his duties. There's few she'll compromise her own comfort for, but if Geralt can arrange this perfect cottage retreat for her amidst his work, Yennefer can stand to spoil him more often. Hell, she may even enjoy it.

I've wanted to do an angsty/comfort fic after a bad contract, and um, apparently here you have it.

#touching ask meme #yenralt #geralt #yennefer #geralt x yennefer #witcher fan fic #my writing #something-more #sorry maureen ...

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