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#henry cavill kiss
gaycouplexoxo · 5 months
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IA
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rawdickulousreturn · 2 months
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the-woman-upstairs · 2 months
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In the universe of the film, there is ABSOLUTELY a contingent of fans that fervently ship Argylle/Wyatt and have the dominant ship on AO3 and trade elaborate fan theories about their hidden relationship and are convinced they’re meant to be endgame but the publishers won’t allow it. Of course, they go totally BALLISTIC when they learn they’re based on the author and her boyfriend.
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whumpypepsigal · 10 months
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#besties
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geralts-yenn · 7 months
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thedemonofcat · 22 days
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When Nifflgaard ends up capturing Jaskier to try and get information about Geralt and Ciri from the Bard.
One of the first things they do is a curse (what the curse does can change depending on the writer). Jaskier, the kind of that can only be cured by a true love kiss.
During the torture, they convince Jaskier that no one could ever love him.
Even after Geralt rescues Jaskier, he can tell that something is wrong with the bard. Only Jaskier won’t tell him about the curse since he sees it as being pointless now that he thinks he's unloveable
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kent-farm · 10 months
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—Clark Kent, Supergirl, "Nevertheless, She Persisted"
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make-me-imagine · 1 year
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A New Years Kiss
Part One: A Christmas Rose
Plot: After an agonizing wait over the holidays, you finally get to see Sherlock again at the Tewksbury family New Years gathering. Will you find out if the rose was truly meant for you?
Pairing: Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Gn!Reader
Words: 2.2k
A/n: In Victorian times they did not celebrate New Years as heavily as we do today. The rich families would often be the only ones to hold parties or they had "open houses". So this is based around that a bit. With a little modern New Years kiss theme thrown in.
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As you stepped down from the carriage, your eyes ran over the Tewksbury's residence. You often forgot just how large it was.
People mingled outside, greeting each other before slowly making their way inside. Your heart beat was heavy as you took a deep breath and made your way towards the house.
Spotting Enola lingering outside, you approached her. As she spotted you, you saw her smile.
"Y/n, thank God, I was afraid I would have to go in alone."
"Isn't Tewksbury greeting you?"
She sighed "No, alas he is busy hosting, he has to greet everyone with his mother."
"Everyone? I do not envy him"
"No do I." She sighed as she looped her arm through yours. "Come, lets go inside."
As you began entering the house, your eyes cast over the crowd. You wondered if Sherlock was here yet. Was he still coming? It had been torture for you having to wait until this party to see him.
You had given in once, a few days prior and went to his apartment. But he was not there. So you had to wait. But you could not help but worry that he might not come tonight. How long would you have to wait to see him then?
What if he did not leave the rose after all, and your anxious waiting meant nothing?
Shushing your own thoughts you looked over at Enola. "Is it true your brother is coming?"
She nodded "Oh yes, apparently he has a very important reason to be here, though he wont tell me what that is exactly. I can't help but think it is about a case he is working on. He is here somewhere." She glanced over at you "He asked if you would be coming as well."
You tried to hide any emotion you might be feeling "Did he?"
You saw something akin to curiosity cross her face, but it quickly faded when she spotted Tewksbury motioning for her to come over to him.
Looking over at you, you nodded "Go ahead. I'll be around."
Smiling, she darted off to go to his side, and you smiled at them. They made a cute couple. Looking around, your heart began beating a bit faster as you wondered where Sherlock was. You wanted to look for him, but feared you might be getting in his way if he was really here working on a case.
Saying hello to a few people you knew, you grabbed a drink and stood at the edge of the room, your eyes casting over the art pieces the family had set out for people to admire.
When some time had passed and you had yet to see Sherlock, you started to doubt he was still here. Maybe something happened and he had to leave.
As people began filing into the large dancing hall, you followed, continuing to stand at the edge of the room.
As Sherlock entered the large room, his eyes found you almost immedietely. You were dressed in an elegant outfit that suited you very well. You looked slightly nervous as you stood among the crowd.
Ever since the day you exchanged gifts, he was tormented with thoughts about how you found the rose. Did you immediately think he left it? Did you return his feelings? Did you even find the rose within the pages?
Walking through the crowd and around the room, his eyes remained on you as he grew closer. A dance would be starting soon, he did not dance often, but with you, he would very gladly do so.
As couple after couple made their way into the middle of the room, including Enola and Tewksbury, you felt an odd sense of jealousy. You were not much of a dancer, but you would like to experience the thrill of dancing closely with someone you had feelings for.
As if on queue, a voice spoke near your left ear, taking you by surprise.
"Would you like to dance?"
Looking over, you saw Sherlock standing close behind you, leaned over to speak softly to you. His hand was placed out for you to take, and a small smile on his face as he met your eyes.
You felt at a loss for words for a moment, but you smiled and nodded "I would love to" You finally muttered out shyly.
His smile grew slightly as he took your hand in his and lead you to the dance floor.
You were not unaware of the mutters that followed as people saw Sherlock Holmes leading a mostly unknown person out onto the dance floor. But you didn't care about their opinions, much.
Your heart was fluttering, and your chest was tight as Sherlock pulled you closer to him to prepare for the dance. Your eyes met and he still held the familiar soft smile on his face.
As the music began, you quickly fell into rhythm with everyone else on the dance floor. There was a silent moment between you, before Sherlock spoke.
"I was glad to see you were able to make it."
"Oh yes, wouldn't miss it." There was a hint of sarcasm in your voice that made his lip quirk. "I was still a bit surprise you came yourself. Enola said you were here for something important. A case perhaps?"
His smile changed almost to a soft smirk and you felt small jolt from your heart.
"The reason I came is important, but it does not have anything to do with a case"
The way his eyes studied you made you think he meant you were the reason. But you feared you may be hoping for too much.
"And what reason is that, may I ask?" Your voice was soft.
Sherlock could tell what you were hinting at, and this was enough to tell him what he wanted to know.
Spinning you around to the music, he pulled you close to him again your back against his chest, as his voice spoke softly in your ear.
"I wanted to know what you thought of my gift."
You felt a shiver roll through you as his lips just brushed your ear. Twirling you back around to face him again, your came chest to chest, your face hovering just in front of one another before you stepped back and continued with the dance.
"The book? Or the other gift within it?" You didn't say explicitly what it was, but your word were obvious enough.
He smiled at your choice of words "Both." He said simply.
"I adore the book, and I've already read it front to back twice." His eyebrow quirked and you smiled. "And the other-"
Pulling you close to him against, his face hovered close to yours as you moved around the room in dance. You were sure there were eyes on you, but you didn't care.
"I loved." Your voice came out softly.
"Loved?" He repeated, his own voice soft.
"Such a beautiful color. And the meaning-" You seemed to be losing your train of thought as his face remained so close to yours.
"Is returned, I hope?" He finished, just as the music ended.
You stopped as everyone else did, but remained locked on each other before you pulled your eyes away to clap for the musicians. Sherlock did the same, his own chest tight as he looked back at you.
He was unable to say more before a group of men started to make their way over to him, already speaking loudly, asking questions and trying to gain his attention.
He saw you step away, somewhat alarmed by the interruption. Gently grabbing your elbow he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Meet me on the balcony at Midnight."
Stepping away again, he was almost swallowed by the group of strangers, most of whom you assumed were reporters or politicians.
Making your way away from the crowd, you looked back, only able to see glimpses of his face. You felt pity for him, knowing he hated this kind of attention. And you felt anger, for being interrupted at such an important and intense moment. Looking at the clock nearby, you noted it was nearly forty minutes to twelve.
You sighed as you looked back to here Sherlock had once been. You assumed he had been dragged off by the group of people. You dd not envy him, but you wished you had someway to help him.
"You and my brother seemed to be deep in conversation during that dance."
You jumped slightly at Enola's voice. Turning, you saw her standing beside you, having not even heard her approach.
You cleared your throat lighlty "Yes."
"Did he tell you about the case?" She asked with obvious curiosity in her tone.
You shook your head "He is not here for a case." Your heart jumped slightly. Should you tell her more? What would she think?
Her smile widened as she moved a little closer "Well that confirms the other thing I had a feeling about then."
"Feeling about what?"
"That he was here to see you."
Your eyes glanced to his last location before you looked back at Enola. "Why would you think that?"
She rolled her eyes slightly "Because ever since I introduced you, he always asks about you, wants your opinions, and his eyes follow you everywhere, every time you are around, it's obvious he has feelings for you. "
You felt heart rise up your neck and ears.
"Sorry was that too much?" She asked as she noted your change in demeanor.
You smiled and shook your head "No, I just...didn't know it was obvious."
She smiled "Well your feelings for him were obvious too. But, surprisingly I don't think they were obvious to him."
Deciding to tell her vaguely about what happened between you and Sherlock, she kept you company asking questions and going on long rants about how cases might work after you and Sherlock got involved. You simply listened, too overwhelmed by her ideas and thoughts to say anything.
After some time she tapped you aggressively on the shoulder and pointed at the clock.
"It's nearly midnight."
"Oh!" You said with a jolt "I should go."
She nodded her head hurriedly as she ushered you away, watching as you made your way towards the balcony.
Stepping out onto the balcony, you looked around for Sherlock. Seeing he had not come out yet, you let out a soft breath and wandered over to the balcony's edge. You looked out at the property, seeing groups of people scattered around. The night was brisk, and the stars were bright in the sky.
"Y/n." Your voice was spoken from behind you, causing you to turn around.
Sherlock stepped out and smiled at you, closing the doors behind him. "I hope I did not keep you waiting."
You shook your head "I've only been here a few moments. "
As he approached you, you felt jjttery and nervous.
"I'm sorry all those people bombarded you, I'm sure you did not wish to deal with that tonight."
He smiled "No, I did not. But it was not as bad as it could have been. Though I very much would have preferred being able to spend the time with you."
You smiled as you looked down towards your feet. He smiled at your familiar bashfulness. Stepping forward, he reached into his jacket and pulled something out
"I got this for you."
Looking up, you half-expected to see another purple rose. But instead, he was holding a beautidul dark red carnatin flower.
As your eyes lit up at the sight, Sherlock felt a jolt in his chest. You gingerly took the flower from him and met his eyes.
"You read the book front to back, yes?" You nodded softly and he smiled "What does it mean?"
You looked down at the flower again as you tried to recall the section on carnations.
"White carnations symbolize purity and luck, pink are for gratitude, light red for admiration, and dark red for love and affection."
He nodded softly and took a step closer to you. Reaching out, he gently touched the petals.
"Love, affection, dedication, and passion. Red carnations in general express that-" he paused as his eyes locked onto yours "-my heart aches for you."
You felt a shiver roll through you and your breath seemed to catch in your throat as he stared deeply into your eyes. Slowly, his hand rose and cupped your face, his fingers gently caressed you as he moved closer.
His face hovered just in front of yours as his eyes drifted down to your lips. There was thick tension in the silence between you, that was abruptly interrupted as fireworks shot into the sky from the yard below.
You let out a soft gasp as you and Sherlock looked over to see the bright explosions in the sky. Letting out a soft laugh, you looked back at Sherlock who had an amused smile on his face.
His fingers gently held your chin as he pulled you closer "Happy New Year Y/n"
"Happy New Year Sherlock."
His lips met yours softly as his hand slowly trailed from your chin to rest at your neck as he deepened the kiss. His hand then slowly moved to cup the back of your head as he pulled you closer. His other hand rested at your back, as he held you close to him.
As one of your hands held the carnation, the other reached up and wrapped around his neck as you leaned in and relished the kiss.
xx End xx
I'm really bad at ending fics lol, but I hope you liked it!~
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry
Sherlock Taglist: @will-grammer, @multifandomfix-recs, @readingbookelf
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joelslegalwhre · 1 year
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Her Sweet Kiss
oh i would love to request one where the reader is the dragon queen (a bit like daenerys from game of thrones) and geralt is sent to kill her which he refuses in the end
(Requested on Wattpad)
pairing⁀➷ geralt of rivia x fem!dragon!reader
word count ⁀➷ 3.2k
summary ⁀➷ You're a golden dragon and the king sent Geralt to kill you… (I’m shit at summaries i’m sorry-)
warnings ⁀➷ spoilers for s1 ep6, violence, (short) mention of blood/wound, mention of killing someone, fighting, kissing, angst (not much)
a/n ⁀➷ As always pls tell me if I missed a warning! And if anyone knows why my “read more” messes with my text (it doubles the first paragraph) i’d be thrilled to know how to fix that🫢
Jaskiers song
🥤my kofi if you’d like to leave a tip🩷
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Geralt came out of the cave, throwing some monster head right in front of the man's feet. You felt the fear the old man had of the white haired Witcher.
Geralt looked at him with a stern look, a little confused but still as if he'd rip the man's head off if he'd do anything stupid.
„I believe those are mine." He said in a low voice.
When the Witcher came down the small hill to his horse, the man hurriedly let the bag fall to the ground and ran away.
„This woman just killed a man with her bare hands for trying to steal your horse!" Jaskier shouted to Geralt.
You couldn't just walk past the men on your way to the village, already sensing the fight.
It really wasn't as dramatic as the bard told though, the man chose his fate when he chose to be ignorant and thought of himself as something better. Stealing a man's belongings, was the lowest another could do. And you didn't really want to have a bloody scene, so a snapped neck was the… well, best option.
The bard behind you was still in shock as he propped his hands to his sides and looked at the Witcher. Said one turned around and studied you with an intense look.
You just looked him straight in the eyes, a small smile spreading across your lips at his next words.
„Maybe she'll make a better travel companion, then." he dryly answered the bard, tilting his head to the side.
He put the bags back on his horse and turned around to you and the bard, Jaskier.
„Who are you?" he asked. You felt the curiosity he tried to hide as he asked.
„That is something you don't have to know." you answered sounding polite yet your answer clearly wasn't. But something about it made the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia as you knew, want to know more about you.
Normally he would just turn around and continue whatever he was onto. Not this time, though.
You smiled at Geralt. „I guess you'd like that back.” You threw one of his viles at him that had fallen out of the bag earlier. He caught it with ease, looking you up and down in surprise. Maybe there was even more to you than he could guess.
„Good luck with whatever you're doing!" you shouted, already continuing your way to the village. Jaskier's gaze followed you, his eyebrow raised, shaking his head.
„What the..." he mumbled to himself. Geralt on the other hand was completely thrown off by the way you behaved.
„Wait!" he shouted after you, his deep voice echoing through the air. Jaskier turned his head to Geralt. What had got into him? He never did anything like that, ever.
The strong white wolf, feared Witcher and butcher of Blaviken, shouting after a girl? Out of desperation? You clearly left Geralt completely and utterly confused.
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The large door of the tavern opened, and Geralt entered, followed by Jaskier. "I'd like a fresh ale, thank you." Jaskier smiled at Geralt.
The tavern was packed, and the waiters ran back and forth in hurry. Neither of them wanted to wait that long. "Hmm." Gerald grumbled, but made his way to the bar anyway to order two mugs of ale.
"What.." the Witcher muttered to himself as he saw you. He had barely managed to banish you from his mind since you had left. As if in a trance, he walked away from the bar. "Witcher!" the barman called after him, who had already put down the two jugs. But Geralt no longer heard him, no longer wanted to hear him.
He followed after you without paying attention to anything around him. If the fabric of your orange dress hadn't had all his attention, it would have been easy to follow your irresistible scent.
You had already noticed Geralt when he entered the tavern with Jaskier. You led him to the back of the tavern, and opened a door that led into a corridor. Which contained several rooms to store food and drink or other supplies. With a light smile, you noticed that Geralt was still following you. Good.
Geralt didn't even look around as he pushed the door open, and it closed behind him. The voices became quieter, and he concentrated on the sounds of your footsteps. It smelled like old wood... and you.
You opened one of the doors. Not a moment later, you felt his presence close behind you. His breath on your neck and the strong smell he carried.
"I don't know why I can't resist you." he whispered in your ear, and his hair brushed your shoulder. "But I'm done trying to fight it."
You leaned your neck to the side and felt his lips, spreading feather-light kisses. No one needed to know about this encounter, you both agreed on that. He didn't need to leave any evidence behind to remember it. His hands grabbed your hips and urged you further into the chamber.
"Show me." you whispered challengingly. If he no longer wanted to suppress it, you wouldn't stop him.
Not a moment later, his lips met yours. Although there was so much desire in both of you, the kiss was anything but. It was breathtaking. It was gentle, quite in contrast to your desire. It was a sweet kiss. And it was so much more fitting than a wild or hard kiss. It was full of feelings neither of you would admit to.
His hands pulled you to him and your hands intertwined behind his neck. Never before had a kiss felt like this. But even in this kiss, you had to gasp for air at some point.
Neither of you moved. Geralt's hands still held you pressed against him as he looked down at you.
Something on your neck shone gold that he hadn't noticed before. It reached to your shoulder and disappeared under the fabric of your dress. It almost reminded him of dragon skin.
You knew what his gaze lingered on. "It's a birthmark," you whispered. He looked into your eyes.
"It's almost the same colour as your eyes." you added with a smile. His lips parted and closed again. Your hands wandered along his hair, and you twirled a small strand between your fingers. Geralt's gaze followed your every move before he looked you in the eyes again.
"I have to go now.” You whispered, standing on your toes and pressing one last kiss to his lips.
Geralt didn't open his eyes as you released yourself from his grip. Only when he heard the sound of jugs scraping over wood did he look up. With three empty jugs, you left the chamber and your footsteps echoed.
But what he only noticed now, how he could have missed it he didn’t know himself, was the wound on your arm. It looked like it had already been treated, but you still had a cloth covering it.
Geralt had his back to the door. But he couldn't help himself and took a step out of the door to look after you. With light steps, almost as if given wings, you walked along the corridor. But before you left, you looked over your shoulder at Geralt. You looked into his eyes and smiled.
Then you turned around and disappeared through the wooden door.
Geralt looked down at the floor and exhaled heavily. "Fuck." he growled.
When he returned to the table, Jaskier wasn't alone anymore. An old man and two worrier-looking women sat with him. Geralt's gaze went back and forth between the three and Jaskier. The table was set with pies, beer and wine.
"Ah Geralt, we were wondering where you've been." Jaskier announced cheerfully.
Geralt gave him a glance and sat down.
"What do you want?" Geralt grumbled.
„A short while ago, a dragon landed across the border in King Niedamir's mountains." the old men started, „I know what you're thinking. Impossible, dragons are so rare. But it's true. Locals spotted it and went after it in search of treasure. Of course, they succeeded only in wounding the creature. And angering it so righteously that it swooped down from its lair and set half a hillside ablaze.
„Hm."
„Dead sheep everywhere." he continued his story.
„Now, the King is in a blind. He's set to marry the princess of his rival kingdom, Malleore, which means it's bad timing to have a murderous pest lurking about in the mountains."
„What does this have to do with me?" Geralt knew exactly what this had to do with him, but the old man mustn't know that just yet.
„The king sent me to ask you to kill the dragon, dear Witcher.”
„You've wasted your breath." Geralt said. „I'll tell you what l've already told the king myself. he looked up, directly into the old man's eyes. „I don't kill dragons.”
What Geralt didn't tell him was that the king didn't order any dragon to be killed, he wanted the dragon queen dead. Shaking his head in disapproval, the old man sighed. „It's nothing I could do myself.” he chuckled. Geralt did not even seem to grin.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Jaskier interjected into the conversation. „Did you say dragon?" Geralt looked at him from the side,
„What people call green dragons', like the one we have here I suppose, they're the most common. Red dragons, less so. Black dragons are the rarest.” he explained.
„Gold dragons are the rarest." the old men stated.
„Gold dragons are a myth. For a gold dragon to exist, it would... have to be the result of... an accidental, unique mutation. And in my experience, mutations, they're intentional." Geralt said with a wry nod, "But it doesn't matter. Mutant or myth, gold dragons met the same fate as anything too different to endure. They died out." His gaze had turned to the table.
„Hello, Grandfather." you lean on the old man's shoulders from behind with a small smile. At the sound of your voice, Geralt's head shot up. Your eyes met, once again, and it felt like a storm was set free inside of you.
„Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Thank you so much. It's been very nice. Thank you for the wine and the pies, but as the man said, we really can't get involved.” Jaskier said with panic in his voice.
„Geralt, shall we?" he tried to ask the Witcher next to him. But when Geralt answered, his gaze lingered on you.
„l'm in.”
„Mother of. Jaskier sighed.
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„What happened here?" Jaskier asked in shock as the two passed a mountain, completely burned down on one side. It was once, full of green grass and most likely many sheep.
„Dragons avoid people." Geralt murmured. „It should have left when they attacked.”
When they had reached the cave the dragon was supposed to be in, Jaskier stopped. „Uhm Geralt…" he breathed heavily. The Witcher turned to the bard and tilted his head slightly. „Wait here." he just said.
Ready to draw his sword at any time, Geralt slowly walked to the entrance of the cave. It was quiet, almost too quiet.
When he saw the dragons, even the Witcher stared for a moment.
He had expected one of the black dragons, or at least a red one. Not a green one.
The dragon laid there, one wing protectively in front of an egg. Behind the green dragon stood a black one protectively, but this one was male.
So he could hardly be the dragon queen the king wanted to get rid of. He came closer, still cautious, listening for any sounds. But when Geralt heard footsteps that could not belong to Jaskier, he drew his sword.
"Get. Away. From. Her." Geralt took a step back. He looked almost startled, surprise visible on his face.
"Hello again, Witcher." you said coldly.
"What are you doing here." It was no question, more likely a request to leave and not put yourself in danger. "Touch her, and I'll kill you." you threatened the Witcher.
The black dragon growled dangerously as you approached Geralt.
Cassius, your guard. He grew up with you in the Royal Court, back when everything was still there, nothing destroyed. He was not much older than you, and acted more like a brother than a guard most of the time.
When you heard his snort, you did not turn to him. "You can go." you said, still looking Geralt in the eyes.
Another growl. "I can handle this. Go now." He understood, this was an order. The green dragon was still lying in the same place when Cassius swept his wings and flew out of the cave through an opening in the ceiling.
"You should go., Witcher." Geralt didn't respond, instead he asked quietly in a raspy voice, "What are you?"
"Don't act like you don't know." You replied, almost a little hurt at the thought of what he would think of you.
Geralt took a step towards the dragon. And no matter what he wanted, no matter if he wanted to harm her or not, you could only see black and white at that moment. In seconds, you had a knife to his throat and were standing in front of him again. "Touch her and Jaskier will have to follow suit."
At that moment, as if you had summoned him, the bard came to the entrance of the cave. "Geralt, what is happening here? I have just seen a dra-" but he fell silent the moment he saw the Witcher with you.
Neither of you paid any attention to the bard.
Geralt turned so neatly that he had his arm around your neck and his hand took the knife from your hand.
"What on earth are you two doing here?" Jaskier stood there as if he no longer understood the world.
"Please." Geralt said softly, but that exactly was his weak spot. You ducked and twisted out of his grip, quick and swift enough to outwit the Witcher and his reactions. Quickly, you had your knife back in your hand. But instead of raising it to his throat again, you placed it at the level of his hip. Geralt looked at you, there was both astonishment and sadness in his gaze.
"Guys..." Jaskier called out to you.
You knew that Geralt would defeat you. Unless you threw him off his guard. He tilted his head, his lips opened and closed, just like he did in the tavern. And your next move was connected exactly with this thought. Geralt was still standing in front of you, he had thrown his sword on the ground when your knife had touched his throat, and there it still laid. He had no weapons except himself, which only confirmed that your idea would make him harmless for a few seconds. At least, you hoped so.
His lips had just closed again, and you didn't know if he would stop fighting or just start now.
Before he could do anything, though, you stood on your tiptoes, your dagger still at his hip. Your free hand reached for his neck and pulled him close enough to you. Then you placed your lips on his. The kiss almost captivated you yourself, and you had to concentrate to continue your plan. Geralt made a grumbling noise, surprised and completely thrown off balance. Just like you wanted. With all your strength, you broke away from him, breathing out heavily. Your lips trembled, it had indeed been a dirty trick. You looked at him apologetically and bit your lip. In the same movement, you turned to the dragon. You took a deep breath. Held it for a brief moment and then blew a protective wall of fire between the two of you and the dragon.
Your breathing became heavy and you swallowed. The fire made the golden scales on your neck glow. As you slowly turned to face Geralt, you could make out Jaskier at the entrance. You looked cautiously back and forth between the two of them. They couldn't hurt you. Their gazes, however, could.
"You're the dragon queen. The golden one." Geralt finally said it.
"The dragon queen?!" Jaskier commented in a shrill tone and shook his head disbelievingly to the right and then to the left."Damn.."
"Yes." your voice was no louder than a whisper as you looked the Witcher straight in the eyes. "But why did the king-" Jaskier started in a confused expression, but you interrupted him at the rage that boiled up inside you at the thought of the king, "King Niedamir hasn't even seen a dragon himself. He knows nothing!"
You walked out of the cave and Geralt followed you.
"No dragon has ever done anything to him. His men started the treasure hunts, they started hurting them,” your anger rose with each word, “He is just scared that he will pay for the things his men did to us." you said, one hand on your almost healed wound. "We don't start fights. But killing baby dragons, for treasure and gold?" You shook your head and tilted it slightly. "I can't let that happen."
You pursed your lips and closed your eyes for a moment, "The sheep- were just a warning. I never had the intention to do more."
Geralt had looked down on the ground while you told them everything. When you'd finished, his gaze found yours, and he exhaled.
You held out a small pouch to them, "Uhm, this is a dragon's tooth. The king won't know it's an old one." Geralt gently took the pouch from your hand, which was trembling slightly.
"Ehm, if I may-"
"It's not mine, Jaskier." you lightheartedly grinned at him.
"I'll tell the king we killed the dragon, and he'll leave you alone." Your gaze went back to Geralt, you nodded with a thankful smile.
"Can I talk to you for a moment, Geralt?" you quietly asked.
"Ohhh, I see. l'I let you two alone. If anyone needs me I'll just.." Jaskier pointed at some rocks and turned around, walking away just far enough to let you have some privacy.
You wanted to say something about the kiss, but you decided against it. It wouldn't help either of you.
„Don't give up." your gaze became serious, and Geralt looked slightly thrown off. That seemed to happen around you more often than he liked. „She is out there. And you have to find her."
Carefully you took his hand and your fingers gently brushed over it.
„Please don't give up, Geralt. You and your child of surprise... are to safe us all."
Your gaze went to your linked hands. A sad smile on your lips as you let go of it. You exhaled. "Goodbye, Geralt of Rivia."
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Geralt felt frozen in place. His back still in the direction you had gone. He didn't watch you go, he couldn't.
Jaskier's eyes widened as he looked past him.
„Geralt, you might want to see this." he almost whispered.
Geralt turned around. “What is-“ he grumbled but soon became silent at the sight.
The sight of a golden dragon flying away into the distance.
Geralt exhaled and looked after you until you were only a small point on the sky and then, gone.
The song about the charming girl, the one who was strong enough to fight and win against Geralt of Rivia, spread across the countries. Jaskier made sure it did.
The song about her sweet kiss.
༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.
Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day 🧡
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josefksays · 2 months
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Lovely
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If Burn Butcher Burn is All Too Well
Then Extraordinary Things is Daylight
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Joey Batey's voice and projection of emotions are ✨✨✨✨
And The Ride of the Witcher is the redemption of Burn Butcher Burn
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gaycouplexoxo · 5 months
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PT 2 IA
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rawdickulousreturn · 1 month
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Note
about the kiss prompt 3, 7, or11 with either Sy, Walter, or August. or Charles if we are feeling Tudory. lol
The #7 “I’ve missed you” kiss screamed Walter to me. This is slightly angsty, but I hope you enjoy it!
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(gif from google, if it's yours pls let me know so I can properly credit)
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader (You)
Rating: T for angst; hurt/comfort vibes
Word Count: 667
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It was no secret that Walter was a gruff man. His oft-sullen and monosyllabic nature were rather notorious, and whilst no one ever appreciated being on the receiving end, most colleagues made allowances for something they deemed personally beneficial. His apparent ability to emotionally detach meant he was routinely saddled with the worst of the worst: the cases no one else wished to touch because of the inescapable knock-on effect on one’s mental health. Most assumed he was impervious to the foulest dregs of humanity and the horrific emotional gamut he ran each day. Believed that as if by some innate magic, he was able to simply absorb the repeated exposure to an endless parade of tragedy and defuse it all away into nothingness.
How wrong they were.
Walter felt everything and the trauma was acutely visceral. It lived in the permanent dark smudges under his haunted eyes, made its home in the unyielding tension in his every muscle, and burrowed into his soul where it inevitably metamorphosed into the existential exhaustion he continually suffered. His very essence was scarred, and it was a burden he bore without complaint so that the abysmal darkness never touched those closest to him.
His stoicism was how he survived and protected his peace.
It was how he protected you.
And whilst some took exception to his compartmentalisation by accusing him of being unnecessarily cold or distant, you understood and accepted it because you knew one thing with the utmost certainty:
No matter how far gone he may seem to be, Walter always came home.
It wasn’t easy, and the latest case had been particularly gruelling. Most evenings he stumbled in well past midnight and immediately collapsed on the sofa without touching the food you’d left wrapped on the kitchen worktop or taking a shower. Sometimes without even bothering to undress. After a paltry bit of sleep, he awoke before the sun and did it all over again. Days went by without seeing each other, let alone speaking, and it wasn’t for lack of wanting on his part. You knew it was because he was in the thick of it and processing that left him feeling tainted in many ways, and he never wanted that anywhere near you.
But you kept on making meals he could eat in passing and leaving extra cosy blankets and fresh clothes in the spaces he most frequently dropped. Held his hand in companionable silence when words were all but impossible. You continued to ease his burden the best ways you knew how because:
Walter always came home.
Just as he did that night. You were stretched out on the sofa enjoying a bit of television and a warm drink when Walter swept into the house on a wave of energy unseen in recent weeks.
You caught sight of his coat and hat flying through the corridor. His bag quickly followed, the lot chucked and forgotten at the bottom of the stairs. He finally came into view, hopping on one socked foot whilst desperately tugging at the boot on the other. He gave a triumphant whoop when he finally got it off. You made to rise, but he motioned for you to stay put and beelined for the sofa.
He collapsed into your open arms with a contented groan, and even though he was a beast of a man, you relished the weight of him. So solid and reassuring and real.
He enveloped your body with his and cradled your face in his hands. His fingertips sank into the soft column of your neck and yours dragged through his dark curls. Foreheads met, and in the barest moment of mingling sighs, his nose gently nudged yours before taking your mouth with his. His overgrown scruff scratched and stung with every drag of his lips but you cared nought. He was here, and that's all that mattered.
Neither desperate nor impatient, this kiss was slow and deliberate. By pouring himself into you and allowing you to return in kind, it was a recharging of the soul. Checking back in.
He reluctantly broke away, breathed into your neck and whispered, “God, I’ve missed you.”
“Welcome back, Walter.”
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ginboysblog · 2 months
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geralts-yenn · 1 year
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Walter all dressed up
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