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#he only wants to be with his witcher
annmarcus63 · 2 years
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"Wait... are you Geralt's soulmate?"
The look on Ciri's face tells too much. Of course Geralt hasn't told Ciri, hasn't told any of them.
“Yes, I am” Jaskier offers her his biggest sincere smile though he thinks he might be grimacing.
Ciri in her charming petulant way says "Wow" and then proceeds to turn around towards the stairs. Jaskier tries not to feel insulted. He is aware of who he is. The contrast between him and Yennefer (Geralt's true love) is painfully immense. Sometimes he wonders if destiny was wrong about him or maybe she wanted to play with him, a mere pawn on Geralt's destiny. The bridge that'd bring Geralt and Yennefer together. But, if that's the truth, if Geralt wasn't meant for him why did he fall in love?
Alone on his cold room he decides he's going to tried, one last time, to be what Geralt wants, needs. So he throws away his colorful clothes and puts on a pair of black pants and a plain black blouse (borrowed from Cöen). He tries to be as useful as possible, quiet, focused, regal, smart and a good company for anyone that wants to talk to the strange bard, he's a good performer after all, the best there is. At least Vesemir doesn't scold at him that much anymore and Lambert is more willing to tolerate his presence. He still sings, in a cellar on top of the main tower, the echo is divine. He writes and sings about heartbreak, hoping, waiting, wanting, and letting go.
Geralt notices of course, he can see the way he holds himself. Like he's hurting. Maybe he is. Ciri asked him a few weeks ago why he didn't tell anyone about Jaskier being his soulmate.
She also tells him about the disappointment in the bard's face at finding himself stranded in Geralt's destiny.
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hanzajesthanza · 6 months
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geralt "i will NEVER deadname my best friend" of rivia
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"he will ALWAYS be dandelion to ME"
#also 'including milva in male costume' goes SOOO HARDDD#everyone say thank you regis for citing a dozen precedents to pull that off. the effect of knowing your herstory <3#c: geralt#s: i want to be by your side#geralt is like the reverse situation of a transphobe who 'has known you for 20 years so he can't call you something else now'#it's that he has known dandelion for so long that he can't call him anything else but his STAGE / CHOSEN NAME :')#the 'viscount dandelion' is so funny to me#i can accept that he's a viscount but I DRAW THE LINE at calling him by his birth name#milva: 'you can accept that he's a viscount??'#also it's lost in english but that his stage name and birth name begin with the same letter & thus sound. jaskier... julian...#not the 'chosen name starts with the same letter as the birth name' stereotype. and swag#the witcher books#book: lady of the lake#excerpt#one thousand million years ago in posada:#dandelion: 'don't you want to know my name' | geralt: 'but i already know your name. it's dandelion'#dandelion: 'but it's not my real name. don't you want to know my real and famous name' | geralt: 'not particularly'#geralt has the same relationship to dandelion's birth name and viscount status as dandelion has to kaer morhen 💀#geralt and dandelion are like i don't care who you were back then i cannot comprehend your sad backstory all i care is about who you are no#i think this kind of friendship helped them both slightly detach from their exaggerated levels of perceived self-importance#geralt from his 'woe is me i will never be seen as a normal man' and dandelion from 'im the most interesting man in this tavern'#only SLIGHTLY detach. when they're around each other they temper expectations. but when they're apart it grows back
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spielzeugkaiser · 2 years
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hi, first off i really love your art. the h/c and warmth really hit me where i live and your illustration style is fantastic. lately i've been obsessed with the post where an unwell milek thinks geralt will leave him behind. was that an ingrained insecurity, assuming his super-witcher dad wouldn't have time for a sickly human kid?
[MASTERPOST] - Ahh, thank you for the ask! Yes, this scene.. I actually saw this a bit differently! It's not about Milek fearing Geralt will leave him behind, he actually wants him to. They need to find his Pa!! I think he often feels like a burden; Jaskier knows this, but Geralt isn't aware of this yet. Milek just wants to pull his weight, especially with Jaskier. A little sneak peak to their struggles regarding this:
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Meanwhile Jaskier continues to struggle with his omega status.
#jaskier#the witcher#geraskier lovechild#julian alfred pankratz#omegaverse#there are various things happening here! a. Milek never really had to fear that Jaskier would leave him he knows he never ever would#b. Jaskier said again and again that he'll always care for him and loves him and that he doesn't have to pull any weight at all#c. Jaskier actually became the parent that just wants his kid to be educated and study and learn#(maybe because he knows Milek won't be able to do hard labour but also because he knows what Milek really wants to do)#(filed under: things I haven't drawn yet but they had their big fallout because of oxenfurt and university - things to come in the future)#d. Milek has watched Jaskier working his ass off in various jobs that he didn't like#(and he thinks that prostitution is the worst but only because they didn't properly talk about it before)#e. Jaskier is struggling with how he is percieved - which I think was never that much on his mind when he was travelling with Geralt#being a carefree bard and giving everyone the middlefinger who had some wrong ideas about what he could do and what not#but this is definitely an AU in which he doesn't have a good relationship with his father and he can still hear him say he'll become#'an unbonded omega with a bastard child working on the streets' and I think sometimes it gets to him#(because Jaskier is king of hating his parents ever being right about him)#that Jaskier kind of wants to spare Milek and quietly hopes we won't become an omega - even if he feels bad about it - shall become plot#(one dayyyy)#anyway that was a very long rant about Mileks complex relationship with him feeling like a burden
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disdaidal · 1 year
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Eamon Farren as Cahir THE WITCHER SO3E06
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rebrandedbard · 2 months
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An updated version of the text exclusive wip, now with visuals! I might add the witcher text's stone texture or just leave it as the default font; I haven't decided. Coming up next, editing all the clips into which we add the MUPPET!
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i have Big Thoughts about how the torture affected geraskier on jaskier’s side, but i don’t know how to put it into words yet
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thelostgirl21 · 1 year
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One of my favorite parts of the Radskier romance?
The emotional maturity and healthy relationship expectations of Prince King Radovid when it comes to Jaskier.
Romantic infatuation needs to be nurtured to be given a chance to grow to turn into actual romantic love.
And when someone has developed an emotionally intimate (and potentially queerplatonic) relationship with another person for over 20 years; and built themselves a family also involving that closest friend's romantic partner (Yennefer) and his Child of Suprise (Ciri), you should expect that romantic interest of yours to make that family their #1 priority.
You should find their ability to deeply commit to the ones they already love, and not suddenly lose interest in them as soon as they find someone shiny and new, as a very good sign.
Because it's extremely likely that - should the romantic infatuation you now experience evolve into genuine love - they won't grow tired of you, and/or lose interest in your relationship easily.
You'll become a part of their found family, too.
Sincerely, when I met the man I've now been with for 17 years, if he'd dropped his weekly D&D game nights with the friends he'd had since he was a kid to freaking date me, I'm pretty sure I would have broken things up with him right on the spot!
Actually, one of the first things we did, when we started dating, was meet each other's closest friends, to see if we'd be a good fit in each other's lives.
You often learn so much more about a romantic interest by watching how caring and devoted they are to those they've already emotionally bonded with, than by interacting with them all on your own.
Yes, you also need to take the time to build some intimacy; but your life together as a couple, if you ever reach that stage, is going to be filled with people sharing both your hearts and your time!
There's a difference between that romantic crush of yours making the effort to integrate you into their own lives, and making time for you so you can get to truly know each other and build a connection; and them suddenly neglecting their platonic and/or alterous relationships and no longer making them a priority in their lives because "Hey, look! I've got a romantic interest now!"
If they are neglecting the people they love because you suddenly showed up, I'd consider it deeply, deeply worrying.
17 years later, my partner still plays D&D once a week (and the boys are awesome friends to us both), I have my own personal tribe (my dance troupe) that I'm deeply close to, and one of the girls came to live with us for 2 weeks Sunday night, because she broke up with her boyfriend recently, needs a place to stay, I freaking love her to death, and we're family.
When I asked my partner if he was fine with her staying over and sharing our home, there was no hesitation on his part in saying "Yes".
We care for and support our family, regardless of who our friends are the closest to.
Because, obviously, there is no need for a romantic partner to grow as emotionally close and intimate to some of your best friends as you are. Ex: They don't need to know all of their secrets, listen to them for hours, and hold them in their arms to provide emotional support when they are going through a hard time the same way you would.
But there needs to be respect and support of those relationships. They need to allow you space and time for you to listen to them for hours, and hold them in your arms to provide emotional support when they are going through a tough time.
And vice versa.
When you are helping someone you love through a tough time, the last thing you need is to be worried about your romantic partner being jealous and resentful over the time you are giving others.
And sometimes, you find yourself connecting more strongly with some of their own friends on certain matters, and suddenly becoming their confidante, too. For example, my romantic partner is a monoamorous heteroromantic heterosexual, and I'm an ambiamorous panromantic demisexual pansexual.
When one of his best friends started questioning if he might be polyamorous, and needed someone to talk with to help him figure out his feelings and how best to approach the subject with his romantic partner, my partner immediately went "It's not that I don't want to support you or listen to you, it's just that I've a feeling you should be talking to my girlfriend about this. She'll be more likely to have some intimate understanding of what you're going through, and she's been professionally trained in counseling."
He's got great respect and acceptance of queer identities (wouldn't be in a romantic relationship with me if he didn't), but he gets utterly lost in them and all the definitions and concepts.
I, however, love discussing and exploring them. So, that best friend and I got to learn a lot about each other during our talks, discovered a lot of shared interests, and grew very close.
Actually, we realized that we were extremely alike in many ways, and that Frédérick (my partner) just might have a "type" of person he's more likely to build an emotional connection with, platonically or otherwise.
I'm also aunt and godmother to wonderful children I've got absolutely no blood relations to.
Found families matter at the very least as much, if not sometimes even more, than romantic partners.
And I believe that the way Jaskier is speaking about the people he loves, the lengths and the risks he is willing to go to in order to protect them, is deeply appealing to Radovid.
In Radovid's world, relationships are commodities to be used to gain influence or power.
You "love" what serves you and makes you more politically relevant and influential, and you can potentially drop them as soon as you find something (i.e. someone) that can bring you more influence or be more useful.
He's been forced to live in a toxic, dangerous, and downright deadly environment, filled with relationships based on lies and deceit, where he had no purpose, and was deeply unhappy.
And I think that he wants to have a chance to build a family of his own based on genuine emotional connections, and/or would be delighted to be given a chance to become part of Jaskier's own found family.
He asked "does the Witcher know how lucky he is to have you?" with a sense of wonder for what it must be like to have someone love you the way Jaskier loves, and to be free to love that person back.
Besides his affection for his brother, perhaps, there was nothing holding Radovid back from leaving the castle and the only life he'd ever known behind.
And truth is, I can't even say how healthy his relationship with his brother truly was.
Most of the time, Radovid was pretty much cheering Vizimir from the sidelines and feeding into his narcissism... But, at least, his brother being King gave him an illusion of safety, I think, until the "Hedwig incident" drove home that no one - not even the freaking Queen herself - was safe with Dijkstra and Philippa around.
In terms of his own emotional, psychological, and even physical well-being, Radovid had everything to gain by getting out of there and following Jaskier.
He could thus afford to "leave everything behind" to follow someone he'd met like 5 times in total in his life. In this context, Radovid truly was choosing himself as much as he was choosing Jaskier.
But Jaskier? He's got a family having made a permanent home in his heart, people that he loves, people that rely on him, and emotional connections that he'd give everything to protect.
And so, Radovid chose to help Jaskier keep his own heart safe, by offering to go help him find and protect his family. He wants to be there with and for him.
Radovid very much seems to understand that Jaskier's family means everything to him. He gets it. That's likely one of the reasons why he finds him so special and attractive in the first place.
Jaskier having a family to go to, and having built bonds of love and loyalty, is what makes it worth it for Radovid to leave everything behind for a potential partner that is healthy enough not to.
Jaskier's a freaking keeper, and that prince is smart enough to know one when he finds one!
And, by showing his full respect and support of Jaskier's other close relationships, Radovid is demonstrating that he'd likely be a good romantic partner to him as well.
Someone that would love all of him, including the parts of Jaskier that Radovid would have to share with others.
Perhaps that's why if it weren't for the writers themselves being a potential threat to their relationship, I could definitely see it work.
Of all the people in his life, Jaskier approached that relationship essentially telling Radovid: "This is who I am an what matters to me... The idea of fully settling down at court gives me urticaria; but I'd be willing to do it, at least for a time, if that kept my little niece and her adoptive parents - the people I love more than anything in the word - safe from threats. I'm not always in the mood for songs, or especially "entertaining" to have around. I've been broken hearted and hurt before, and have developed certain trust issues when it comes to relationships... I'm deeply loyal and devoted to those that have gained my trust and have grown very emotionally intimate with... I might lash out to protect my heart, but reassess in light of new evidence that the other person was hurting, too, and trying to keep their own head above water (or downright on their shoulders). I can forgive mistakes and still love regardless... Oh, and from that whole scene you witnessed with Vespula when we first met, I'm assuming that you've already deduced I sort of have a strong, adventurous approach to my sexuality, and am not exactly the monoamorous kind. Should we ever form a romantic couple, I can't guarantee I won't also have other sexual encounters with some of my dearest friends, but also potentially strangers."
And Radovid's like "Yup! That's the man for me, and I'd love to follow you out there in the world if you'll have me!"
So, it's hard for me not to feel at least a bit optimistic.
And, while Radovid obviously can no longer do that (follow him into the world, that is... At least, for now...), I think he might have a realistic enough approach to life and relationships that, should Jaskier try to offer him creative solutions to make it work as best they can in a world filled with uncertainties, he might be able to listen to his ideas, offer solutions of his own, and adapt.
They're two brilliantly empathetic queer boys in love... They've got it!
If they aim for anything conventional or traditional, they're screwed (and not in the fun way)!
If they make their own rules, and design the relationship to fit the way they love rather than how others would want them to love (i.e. pay no heed to what others say to sing, by going with their own needs instead) there's a world of possibilities for them to explore together.
They could have enough together, and be enough for each other.
And, from the way Radovid's been listening to everything Jaskier's been saying (and singing) since they met, and showing a concern for his own safety, well-being and happiness, given the opportunity, he just might be the one to surprise Jaskier and show some very creative thinking of his own.
Because when Radovid decided that what suited him in life was to help Jaskier protect his family, he immediately went into problem solving mode, was very effective, and showed resourcefulness (forget about baths! I need you to take my cloak and everything I have with fur to turn them into money that might help us on our journey).
He's like Jaskier's own Jaskier, in a sense.
"Look, I'm growing very attached to that guy, and if keeping his family safe is such a huge part of who he is, then I'm going with him to look after him!"
Can you imagine if Radovid had successfully gotten out of that castle, though?
You have Geralt ready to declare war on anyone that stands between him and his daughter.
Jaskier coming along to help rescue Ciri and look after Geralt.
And Radovid coming along to help rescue Ciri and look after Jaskier.
Geralt: This is Jaskier, my emotional support bard... and Radovid, my emotional support bard's emotional support Prince.
This is like Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster's intern, having her own intern.
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Next thing you know...
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Seriously though, each part of the season had such different vibes...
Season 3, part 1: Finally! Jaskier's been adopted into a forever home, and he's got people looking after him and openly appreciating him now! Was about time!
Season 3, part 2: JFC! Not again! *Heavy sigh* Can someone please, please adopt that ridiculous puppy of a Prince?! He needs a forever home and people to look after him, too!
So really, when it comes to how Radovid appears to be handling relationships, that freaking sense of entitlement and self-importance that would have him become a villain absolutely isn't there.
Book Radovid was a 13-year-old boy that was deeply upset that no one noticed him and his mother, and showed them the respect he believed they were owed!
He couldn't wait to show the world what he could do!
He was portrayed as an immature entitled brat to begin with!
This version of Radovid is the exact opposite.
He's like "Look, I'm just useless to the crown and terrible at politics, spying and being a prince... I just want to follow my heart and get out of here!"
He doesn't want the world to see or notice him, he's constantly hiding himself in window alcoves, corners, and trying to make himself as small as he can, for frak's sake!
He even introduced himself to Jaskier going "Ah, Radovid... Comma Prince", putting his Royal identity last.
At first, I thought it was done for humorous purposes, but it's quite telling, actually.
Being "Prince" is like some ball and chain he's been dragging behind him, weighting him down, rather than a source of pride and personal worth.
Having him magically turning into a villain would make absolutely no sense...
I'm not saying they won't do it. But the character's psychological foundations are miles away from the infamous "dark triad".
Will he allow Philippa and Dijkstra to do terrible things in his name? Perhaps. Stockholm syndrome might kick in, and he might find himself emotionally bonding with them to survive and make sense of a world that would otherwise drive him mad.
As someone that's been trauma bonded to a malignant narcissistic mother for almost 3 decades, I know how powerful Stockholm syndrome can be as a psychological protective mechanism.
But I can't fathom Radovid being inherently cruel or tyrannical.
Convincing himself that Dijkstra and Philippa really "like him" and are looking out for him and the Kingdom's best interests because of being unable to face how hopelessly fucked he is? Sure!
Now that he's been violently thrown into the spotlight and deprived of his usual safety mechanisms, Dijkstra and Philippa might capitalize on this by brainwashing him into perceiving them as "misunderstood", and the only people that have ever truly cared about him and/or respected him.
Survival instincts can be a bitch to fight at times and totally cloud your mind. The absence of cruelty becomes read as "kindness", and your ability to comply with their expectations becomes perceived as a way to "control" what happens to you. And thus, you wind up feeling like you have power over the actions of your abusers (the real threat) through your ability to constantly pacify them.
So yeah, if you want to use Stockholm syndrome to make him go against his very nature, and fall prey to the mind controlling skills of two very dangerous people, with very high sociopathic tendencies?
Yeah, that could realistically happen. And Jaskier would become the most dangerous adversary they would ever be facing in the whole freaking Continent.
Every platonic, alterous, or romantic friend or love interest of mine, that my mother didn't approve of and couldn't fully seduce and control, too, she would make sure to drive away.
My mother only ever tolerated the friends and lovers that fed her own ego and reinforced the level of influence she had on my environment and myself.
And it usually worked. I would be adopting her P.O.V. on my relationships, and breaking up with significant others to avoid risking to lose her approval.
Until I met someone that made me feel so unconditionally loved, respected, and emotionally safe - someone that was capable of loving me the way I was, resolve conflicts without seeking to dominate or control me, and always strove for "win-win" scenarios and balance between my needs and his - that her attempts to play the victim and "expose him as the true threat" to my happiness and well-being utterly failed.
Stockholm syndrome / trauma bonding can be broken by someone showing you that you'll have people that love you, support you, will believe you, and will be there to fight by your side should you be brave enough to oppose your aggressor(s) and attempt to break free from their control.
Your mind will start noticing their violence, and let you realise you've never been safe with them when you stop subconsciously believing that you have no way of ever truly escaping their influence, and the situation is hopeless.
So yeah, if Radovid believes everyone in the castle is under Dijkstra and Philippa's control, and there's no one he can trust to follow any order that would go against their will, he might comply, do what they want, and instinctively create a narrative in his mind that would give them the role of allies and protectors.
But Jaskier's one of the most influencial voices of the Continent. "Blood Origin" (that I absolutely loved, by the way... Don't know what so many people seemed to have against it...), was all about showing the power of stories, and the way they could be used to bring Empires down.
Jaskier could likely break their hold on Radovid, and put the power back in his hands, if it ever came down to it.
So, having Radovid become "dangerous" to others, by adopting Dijkstra and Philippa's P. O. V. without being psychologically able to fight their influence on his own until someone makes him snap out of it, and offers him better alternatives?
It's believable.
But him inherently being a genocidal maniac at his core? That would make zero sense. He's way too empathetic and caring about the emotional well-being of others for that.
Jaskier: "I need to find my family."
Radovid: "Here, let me give up my claim to the throne, sell my valuables, and come help you rescue those you love because you need my help, and I want to be there with you."
Yes... That's... That's what sociopaths do... And they weep over their dead guards' bodies while hiding in corners, especially when they're alone and have no one to put a show for.
That's how people start burning witches at the stake. Makes sense...
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minne-cerbinna · 1 year
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I have a lot of thoughts about Yaevinn in general but I especially like the association with beggartick blossoms, something that is at best loosely supported by the actual source text of the game, but compels me anyhow.
Beggartick blossoms, though considered a "common" sort of plant, and though they are later reworked into a much more commonly occurring plant, as of the first Witcher game, they were supposed to be a relatively rare aqueous plant, and the particular variety that grew plentifully in the swamp forest outside Vizima happened to grow on land. These plants are valuable because they are used in the production of fisstech; the blossoms are both poisonous and hallucinogenic, and lend these properties to the drug. However, just as refined fisstech can be used as anaesthetic, the unrefined blossoms can be used as an analgesic in small doses in order to treat pain.
Yaevinn is not a highborn elf or an Aen Saevherne, his status as a "legendary Scoia'tael commander" as stated in the bestiary entry for Sylvans in TW3 is not yet secured, and he is just one among the Scoia'tael who have made camp in the swamp forest. This becomes especially marked if one considers the extratextual context that his in-game character is an amalgamation of the three Scoia'tael commandos that were originally intended to appear in the game before being combined in development, and his design is the standard armour worn by all male elven warriors in-game as opposed to something unique; he is distinguished from the default model design only by his hair and the details of the face. He is, by his trade and his nature, a warrior, an archer by the novel text and a swordsman by the game text. He was thorough in his violence, but not senseless; Iorveth, who knew him, described him as having "beautiful dreams", of seeing combat and killing as "poetry". He remained ideologically faithful even after multiple losses, continuing the combat and killing for the sake of his people and his desire to create a better life for them; or perhaps a better way to look at it is not that he remained faithful but that he returned to his ideology every time, that after each disillusionment, he was restored. After all his losses, he still hoped to secure a better future for his people.
Of common stock, of a particular variety. Deadly, associated with visions or dreams, used for restoration -- in the form of medicine or revolution.
There can be an additional metaphorical reading in the commercialisation of the beggartick blossoms in association with Yaevinn's cynicism, his descent from his "beautiful dreams" into the cruel reality of the rebellion, just as these blossoms which were once offerings for vodyanoi divinities now being gathered and sold as drug components.
Another, less metaphorical association that can be made between Yaevinn and the beggartick blossoms is in regard to an optional line of dialogue from Gramps, the old man whom Geralt can escort to the shrine of Melitele upon arriving in the Swamp Forest. He gives an alternate recipe for perfume, which is a craftable item in The Witcher and has an alchemical formula that the player can create. This alternate recipe entails grinding beggartick blossoms and beast fangs in alcohol to create perfume. According to the game's alchemy system, this should not be possible as the proposed ingredients do not have the required alchemical components to create the craftable item Perfume; it can be posited that this is perhaps a simplified or otherwise popular recipe as opposed to a proper alchemical formula. This particular recipe is remarkable to me in the fact that Yaevinn is nearly ideally situated to fulfil it.
Yaevinn does not spend his time at the Scoia'tael encampment; he can instead be found at the druids' grove. Wolves nearby provide a source of beast fangs. The beggartick grows plentifully throughout the swamp, and alcohol can be procured through trade or theft, as he has contact with the druids and the encampment is situated near to the bricklayers' village. The beast fangs would serve no practical use, and the beggartick is plentiful enough that a blossom could be taken at no cost to the unit, therefore it is possible that Yaevinn could create this perfume himself without drawing unduly on resources for the sake of vanity. He's quite likely to possess a bit of a vain streak; while some aesthetic choices could either be considered signs of this vanity or simply be put down to character design -- the distinctive loose hair despite the impracticality, or the very thin brows in a different colour from his hair, for instance -- Geralt will note in his journal that Yaevinn comes across as "conceited" when they first meet. He's very proud and that pride likely extends to cosmetic matters. While a rebel living in a swamp forest cannot be draped in finery, it's a small luxury that he can afford.
I find that it also adds a new layer to his interactions with Geralt. The player's actions affect the extent to which Geralt and Yaevinn will interact, but the initial meeting is inevitable and they find themselves quickly reaching mutual respect, regardless of how things proceed from there. But in this first game, Geralt is amnesic and has very little idea of who he is and who is important to him; and yet he still finds himself drawn to a proud figure, slender and dark-haired, with a stern countenance and a sharp and clever tongue, scented of floral perfume.
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roughentumble · 2 years
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some sort of futuristic sci-fi setting where jaskier is an entertainment bot, long since rusted and abandoned in a trash heap, and geralt is(among other things) a semi-decent mechanic who sees this bot and digs him out of the refuse, gets him up and working again
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pixelephant · 2 years
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honestly the biggest issue for me with the choice of liam hemsworth as the recast for geralt is that he’s 32 years old
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hanzajesthanza · 1 month
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Bez krwi nie ma wampira. Jest to substancja, która decyduje o jego istnieniu, podobnie jak o istnieniu człowieka. Without blood there is no vampire. It is this substance which determines his existence, just as it does the existence of a human.
Maria Janion. "6. Krew i ciało," in Wampir: Biografia symboliczna. ("6. Blood and body," in Vampire: A Symbolic Biography.)
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ayrennaranaaldmeri · 2 years
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anyway i apologise to henry cavill bc netflix has shown me that casting can always be worse lmao
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sparklypunk · 2 years
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Ive come to the realization my PC that was gifted to me as a graduation gift is in fact old now
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thefaestolemyname · 2 years
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After my Matt Graham phase as a kid I didn't pay attention to celebrities, didn't care who they were, didn't recognize the name of most of them.
But I have come to love Niel Gaiman, not because I've read any of his books, or have watched any of his shows, but because he is funny and kind on Tumblr, and makes his way onto my dash without me trying to find him.
I now have one (1) celebrity I am a fan of
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featherymainffins · 5 months
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Kyle Gallner is somehow capable of looking both hot as hell and whiter than Wonderbread bread and twice as milquetoast at the same time. What do they keep doing with him on sets
#ill watch two films he played in that are both from the same year and if god is merciful they had about the same production time frame#(unsure because i cant find production info about mother may i)#and hell look completely different in them. like. i wouldnt be able to tell that im looking at the same person#one of these men looks like a James Franco wannabe who stars in teeth-whitening toothpaste ads and might be Patrick Bateman in the flesh#the other looks like he has two or perhaps more extremely specific hobbies hes just itching to tell me about and i just know all of his#clothes smell like the lack of will to live and cheap cigarettes#its like...you know how Henry Cavill looks good only when they dirty him up? like how hes incredibly unattractive as superman but everyone#wants him so bad when hes playing the Witcher? this is literally the same situation.#like ough get out of here with that pop boy band hair and chevalier style facial hair come back when your hairs all greasy and fucked and#your facial hair hasnt seen the embrace of a razor in far too long#this might also genuinely be like...the most normal-esque role ive ever seen him play#as in normally hes like...normally he emotes and moves oddly. because most of his roles are like that#some of them never relax and all their movements are acting tough; emotions are exaggerated but with a hint of irritation#some of them have lost the will to live decades ago and their intensity is in how mild they are. the stress and worry are etched into every#movement and every emotion expressed#and well some of them are simply an emo kid
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ro-is-struggling · 6 months
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Safer In His Arms || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
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Requested by anon
Summary: Since you were little you always dreamed of meeting a noble and brave knight, falling in love and marrying him to rule your kingdom together until the end of your days. But as you looked around at the men that had come to the banquet to ask for your hand in marriage, it was clear that those dreams were nothing more than a fantasy. Or at least that's what you thought until fate crossed your path with Geralt of Rivia. The witcher, with his hard expression and cold stare, was the last person anyone would describe as warm or chivalrous. But not you. From the moment you met him, you saw nothing but kindness in his eyes. And when he managed to rescue you from the hands of bandits, you knew that maybe there was still some hope that your fantasy could come true —just maybe not in the way you had always imagined. 
Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of sexual assault (nothing happens but if it’s triggering for you I wouldn’t read it), protective!geralt, SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, loss of virginity (not accurate this is just porn!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, aftercare, fluff
English is not my first language
Word count: 13500 (not even sorry)
Notes: I don't know why I keep giving every princess I write a sad/tragic story, sorry about that. Also this ended up being way more smutty than I anticipated, sorry about that too (not really). It was supposed to be a fun little hurt/comfort fic about Geralt saving the reader but it developed a mind of its own and ended up being another excuse to write more smut. I tried to make the smut a bit more fluffy than normal since it's supposed to be the reader's first time, but I didn't want it to be too fluffy given that they technically barely know each other, so there's no actual love between them (if that makes sense?). So, sorry if it's a bit all over the place!
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The cold breeze of the summer night hit your skin the moment you set foot outside, reminding you that you should have taken a coat. While the days tended to be hot this time of year, once the sun set over the horizon a cool breeze embraced the entire kingdom, courtesy of the ocean forces that surrounded the borders of the land. It was quite peaceful. On a quiet night you loved to sit in the courtyard listening to the waves crashing against the rocks and smelling the scent of the salty water that was carried by the winds and mingled with the sweet perfume of the garden flowers. It seemed to always bring peace to your troubled mind, and that was exactly what you needed right now.
You could still hear the noise coming from inside the castle, though it was slowly getting lost in the sound of the sea. The laughter, the chatter, the joyful music, it all faded into the background as you plopped down on one of the seats in the courtyard, allowing yourself a moment to take a deep breath and let the beauty of your kingdom impart some of the wisdom you so desperately needed. All the guests were there for you —to talk and dance with you, to make unattainable but romantic promises in exchange for your hand in marriage— and yet all you wanted to do was disappear. You were tired of the politics, the diplomacy, tired of feeling the pressure of having to decide the future of your life and your kingdom in one night. The choice of a husband was very important to your parents, to your people and it should be to you too, but all you wanted was for the day to be over.
"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one feeling overwhelmed in there." A deep voice startled you. 
Looking up you were met with a tall man leaning against one of the stone pillars supporting the roof of the covered section of the courtyard. His arms were crossed over his chest, muscles showing through the fabric of his clothes. His white hair hid part of his face, though you could still make out his hard expression and defined jaw. But what caught your attention the most was not the size of his muscles or the fact that the clothes he was wearing seemed too elegant for someone like him. No, what caught your attention the most were the amber eyes that watched you, admiring you from a distance, hiding behind a few rebellious strands of hair. You had never seen such beautiful eyes before. They were piercing, and yet there was a softness in them. Like the sun on a summer afternoon, they shone with an intensity that would have blinded anyone. But you were mesmerized by them, unable to look away. 
"Though I must admit I did not expect to find you here, your highness, given that you are the center of the party."
"I needed some fresh air." You managed to say, forcing yourself to look away from his eyes. "I lost count of the number of men I danced with tonight...I just needed a break."
"That bad, huh?" His lips curved upward slightly, giving his hard expression a softer look. "I suppose if any of them had made a good impression at least you would remember their name."
"It wouldn't matter anyways. My parents have a very strong opinion about the one I should choose." You let out a bitter chuckle. "This banquet is just a formality, a contingency plan.... Give everyone a false sense of hope so they won't attack us for feeling left out."
"I'm sure you still have some sort of control over the whole thing. You're the one getting married after all."
"Since when does a woman's opinion matter when there's wealth and power involved? I'm just a pawn in their political game." Your gaze dropped, focusing on the embroidered details of your dress to avoid facing the intense gaze of the man in front of you. "When I was a girl I used to dream of growing up, meeting a brave and honorable prince and falling in love with him... now I know that feelings come after marriage, if they come at all."
Geralt watched you walk arround the courtyard, your fingers tracing the petals of the flowers that decorated the place without paying much attention to your movements. You had a blank stare and a sad expression adorned your delicate face. He was not a big lover of royalty —he didn't care about politics and didn't like the arrogant tone with which most of them used to speak—, but you were different. When he looked at you he didn't see a spoiled, arrogant princess or a manipulative political figure capable of anything to get their way. He only saw a sad and disillusioned young woman, confused about her future and the responsibility that fell on her shoulders. 
Geralt felt bad for you and had an inexplicable urge to hug you, though he restrained himself. He opted to move closer to you, just took a couple of steps forward and he was already able to breathe in the scent of your perfume. His nostrils were pleasantly assaulted by the sweet scent emanating from your skin and hair. It was special, a blend of jasmine, vanilla and a hint of sea water. It was like nothing he had ever smelled before and he was sure that your scent would linger in his memory for a long time.
"It is still your life." He spoke behind your back and you turned to look at him. He seemed much bigger now that he was closer to you. His figure towered over you imposingly, yet his eyes were soft. "You can always take back your control over it." Your lips curved upward slightly and Geralt thought the smile suited you much better than the grimace of sadness. 
You appreciated his effort to improve your mood. He was a complete stranger who had no reason to listen to your complaints about a life that many considered privileged. And though his words were simple, they accomplished their purpose. You felt so helpless and trapped that you were unable to see that things didn't end there. Yes, you were forced to marry someone you did not love for the sake of your kingdom, but that was not the same as giving up your life, your control and power over it. There was still hope.
"Thank you..." you trailed off, realizing at that moment that you had opened yourself so sincerely to a man whose name you didn't even know. 
But before he could introduce himself, a voice in the distance interrupted you, answering for him.
"Geralt! There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you. You are supposed to protect me, you know."
Geralt let out an irritated sigh as the man you recognized as one of the many musicians hired by your parents to play at the banquet approached you. You had to stifle a chuckle as you realized that rather than escaping the noise of the party, he had come there to get a break from his friend's vibrant and cheerful personality. They were an odd pair, but you had no doubt that there had to be trust between them from the way the bard addresses him.
“I’ve been doing the impossible to hide from Lord Kaius for ages! What the hell were you doing out her–” The artist's complaints were cut short when his eyes finally rested on your figure. "Your highness." He gave a subtle bow, the tone of his voice changing to a lower, more subtle one from one second to the next.
"I'm afraid it's my fault. I was preoccupying your friend with the problems that afflict my mind on this fine evening and he was too kind to interrupt me. He was a great help, but you can take him back now. You clearly need him more than I do."
"Won't you come inside, your highness? You wouldn't want to miss your own party." The bard asked and you smiled at him. 
"In a moment. I'd like to enjoy the peace and fresh air for a while longer."
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Geralt didn't know why, but his eyes kept searching for you in the crowd of people dancing and eating like there was no tomorrow. After Jaskier dragged him back to the banquet hall —and after saving him from the fury of the man whose daughter had lost her innocence in the hands of the bard—, he kept his eyes on the big dark wooden doors, waiting to see you enter. But the minutes passed and there was no sign of you anywhere. He hadn't seen you come through the door and he couldn't find you in the crowd of people or see you at the royal table sitting next to your parents. You had disappeared and some people were beginning to notice.
For a moment, Geralt wondered if perhaps his words had encouraged certain behaviors in you. Maybe your way of taking control of your life was to run away from there, leaving your parents, your suitors and your responsibilities behind and start from scratch. He was wondering if perhaps he should go out to look for you, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden entrance of a man running towards the king and queen waving a paper in his raised right hand.
"The princess has been kidnapped." He announced loudly, causing the entire room to fall into a deep silence. 
The musicians stopped playing, the people dancing stood motionless in the middle of the room and the queen almost fainted at that very moment. There was a collective sigh and then nothing. Pure silence while the king read the note that had been left behind by the bandits, establishing a payment for the recovery of the princess.
However, the silence did not last long. It was a room full of princes, knights and lords who were there to win the heart of the princess —or at least, the political interest of her parents— so chaos was bound to break out at a time like that. Lord Einar, the one who had found the note in the courtyard, was the first to offer his services to save the princess. His bravery set off a chain reaction of man after man appearing before the king to justify why they were the best suited for the task and not their competitors. And as they fought among themselves, Geralt decided to take matters into his own hands. 
He finally felt comfortable as he inspected the courtyard and its surroundings for some sort of clue as to your whereabouts. For the first time since he had arrived at the castle he felt as if he actually had something to do there. Banquets and politics weren't his thing, but tracking down and hunting evil was. And while his area of expertise was monsters, he was willing to make an exception —anything to find an excuse to get him out of the political mess unfolding in the banquet hall.
His senses enhanced by the mutation allowed Geralt to follow the path that your scent had left in the air. He only had to take a couple of deep breaths and he immediately caught the fragrance of jasmine and vanilla that he had smelled on your skin. It stood out above any other scent near him, almost as if he had you in front of him once again. All he had to do was follow it to the outskirts of the castle, where his tracking skills allowed him to form a clearer picture of the situation.
They were heading north, away from the ocean and into the forest. The four pairs of footprints in the dirt indicated the presence of three heavy men who were accompanied by a fourth subject that was not so pleased to be there. The footprints were more shallow and imperfect. They belonged to a person of smaller build who was being dragged by those men. Geralt found no blood on the path, so he felt optimistic. You were conscious and had no serious wounds that would leave traces of your blood on the road, so there was a high chance that he would arrive in time to save you.
Following the path became a little more complicated the deeper he went into the woods, but fortunately for him the vegetation was not so lush and the bandits had not hidden very far away. Soon he was able to hear their angry mutterings in the distance. The night wind carried your sobs with it and Geralt followed them as if it were a map straight to your whereabouts. 
You were being held captive in what appeared to be abandoned land. There was a dirty old shack and behind it, in the distance, Geralt could make out a barn that he had no doubt was in the same condition. A dim light was escaping through the half-open wooden door, so he knew that was where he had to go. 
Two of the bandits scattered around the property to control the perimeter while one remained inside with you. Geralt was able to slip past them unseen with ease. Clearly, they were not men of great intellect and wisdom. Only a fool would kidnap a princess on the one night she was surrounded by strong and capable noble knights looking to prove themselves to her. Although glancing around, he was the only one there, so perhaps the bandits had a point.
Geralt was very careful with his movements, seeking to stay in the shadows as long as possible to assess the situation. He knew he could take out those men without breaking a sweat, even if they attacked him all three at once. But he had to consider that you were in the middle and any mistake he made could end badly for you. So he took his time, stealing a glimpse of the barn through the cracked door. His vision was limited by the odd angle from which he was forced to observe the scene, as well as the dim light that illuminated the room. Geralt was considering going in with his sword held high and end it all, when a sudden movement forced him to retreat so as not to be found.
Still, he got to see the way the man was mistreating you, pushing you violently against a pile of hay while you cried and begged for your life. And he got to hear the string of degenerate words he spat at you, enjoying the fear in your voice as you struggled to keep your distance from him. It made Geralt angry. Very angry.
The next sequence of actions happened so quickly that it was hard for you to process it. Although, to be honest, your mind wasn't quite there either. A part of you was completely missing, preparing to face the worst. When your captor lunged at you, effectively imprisoning you against the hay and almost completely restricting your movements, your mind transported you to another place. You could still hear his voice in the distance, smell his unpleasant odor and feel his weight on your body, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the rocks and the smell of salt water. Your body was still struggling to break free and tears were still streaming down your cheeks, but your mind was preparing to face the horror you knew was coming.
"You can cry all you want, no one is coming to save you." The man clicked his tongue, an evil smile forming on his lips. "A castle full of people and not a single man in sight, what a shame! But don't worry, princess, the time has come for you to know what a real man is." He moved his hands to the buttons of his pants, his leering gaze roaming over your body. You felt like screaming, crying and vomiting all at the same time, but you remained immobile, not knowing how to react. You simply closed your eyes, concentrating on the images of the sea you loved so much, waiting for the moment to pass.
But instead of feeling the weight of your captor's body on you again, you felt the splatter of warm liquid on your skin. Droplets rolled down your cheeks, mixing with your tears, and streams fell on your clothes. When you opened your eyes you found the sharp point of a sword poking out of your captor's pierced stomach. It was his blood that drenched your body, his blood that stained your clothes. It poured down on you from the wound in his stomach and from the cut in his throat that prevented him from producing more than broken cries as he drowned in his own blood.
It took you a few seconds to understand what was happening. Your confused mind, on high alert for new dangers, was not able to comprehend that the death of your captor was something positive for you. You only saw blood in quantities you had never seen before and could not help but scream as you watched in horror as the sword disappeared inside the bandit's body —splashing a few more drops of blood on its way out.
In the blink of an eye, the dying body of your captor was removed from above you and was replaced by a hand that pressed over your mouth to silence you. You struggled against it, your own hands snapping out of their state of shock to clutch at the arm of the new danger in an attempt to separate it from you. But then your eyes focused on the man leaning over you, the one who had saved you and who was desperately asking you to keep quiet.
A surge of calm ran through your body as you made contact with those golden eyes that intrigued you so much. You knew then that you were no longer in danger for Geralt had come to your rescue. Your heart was still beating almost inhumanly fast, pumping adrenaline throughout your body, and your breathing was still rapid, but you were able to calm your whimpers of protest under his hand. You stopped fighting him, trusting that you would be safe under his care.
"There are more-" You tried to warn him as he removed his hand from your mouth, but Geralt shushed you.
"I know, they're outside. That's why I need you to stay quiet and hide while I deal with them. Can you do that, your highness?" You nodded slowly, letting Geralt lead you to the back of the barn. He settled you behind a pile of hay that was large enough to hide your crouched figure, asking you to stay there until he came back for you, no matter what you heard outside.
"Wait! Don't leave me!" you panicked as he took a step away from you. Your hand flew to his arm, clinging to his clothes in an attempt to keep him from leaving. You knew what he had to do, but the thought of being alone again terrified you.
"Everything will be fine." Geralt tried to calm you, his voice a soft whisper. "I promise I will come back for you." 
He gave you a moment before trying to leave once again, waiting for you to let go of his arm willingly rather than forcibly push you away. Geralt knew you were terrified and needed support, and he was more than willing to give it, but first he had to take care of the bandits that were still on the loose. And it would not be wise to fight them while you were present. It would only distress you further and put you in unnecessary danger. So, with a slight nod, he left you in the barn once more, disappearing into the night to finish what he had started.
You curled up in your place, listening to the distant sounds of the fight as you let another wave of tears roll down your cheeks. The smell of blood and dirt surrounded you. You were covered in it —in dirt, from being pushed back and forth around the place; in your captor's sweat, after he threw his body over yours; and in his blood, thanks to Geralt's fierce but effective attack. It made you want to vomit. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in, and your mind was slowly beginning to understand the great danger you were in and how lucky you were that Geralt showed up when he did.
“Princess?” 
His voice brought you back to reality. He was kneeling beside you, looking at you with concern in those beautiful yellow eyes. The skin on his face was stained with a few drops of blood, as you imagined yours to be, but that did not lessen the softness of his expression. You threw yourself into his arms without a second thought, hiding your face in his neck as you sobbed in relief to know that the danger was over.
"It's okay, you're safe. I'm here, it's going to be okay." Geralt muttered against your hair, pulling you into his arms hoping that would be enough to help ease your nerves. 
He held you against his body for as long as you needed him to, stroking your back with his hand in a slow, delicate way to inspire some sense of calm in you. He didn't move for a moment, not even when your sobs began to fade and your breathing became regular. No, Geralt waited for you to make the first move, breaking away from him when you were ready to do so. 
"It's all right. You're fine. Just breathe with me. In...and out...in...and out. All right." 
You let the soft but deep tone of his voice slowly wash away the paralyzing fear and nerves that plagued you. You focused on the warmth of his body and the way his arms wrapped around you, making you feel safe. You mimicked the rhythm of his breathing, letting him slowly guide you back to normal. 
When you opened your eyes again the world around you was no longer spinning. Your vision was still a little blurry from the tears, but you could make out perfectly the yellow eyes, bright as the summer sun, watching you carefully.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a small smile. "Did they hurt you?" You shook your head. Most of the blood on you at that moment wasn't yours, thankfully. Beyond a couple of bruises on your wrists from the bindings, and a split lip from a slap, you weren't injured. Your head hurt and you had twisted your ankle in an attempt to escape but it was nothing you couldn't handle.
"Who were they?" You asked in a shaky voice as you tried to stand up. You winced in pain as you put weight on your injured foot, but Geralt caught you in his arms before you lost your balance.
"Trust me, you're not going to like the answer to that."
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A collective sigh was heard as you and Geralt entered the war room, where the king and queen were coordinating a rescue party with some soldiers and half of the suitors present at the banquet. It was a sigh of surprise rather than relief. It was clear that no one expected to see you there, much less with the disheveled appearance you had. 
Your mother was the first to react, running up to you with tears in her eyes. Although she couldn't bring herself to hug you, the blood that stained your ball gown was still fresh, so she settled for holding your cheeks in her hands while repeating over and over again how happy she was that you were safe. Your father reacted by sending the guards to arrest Geralt as his worried mind believed that the witcher somehow had something to do with your kidnapping. You had to stand between them, taking your savior's hand in yours to make your position clear. 
"What you imply is ridiculous! He saved me, father. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him." you stated firmly, keeping your head held high and holding back tears in your eyes. 
"He very well could still be behind all this. He's a witcher who wasn't officially invited to the festivities and conveniently vanished in the middle of the night without a word. No one can attest to him but that bard..."
"No offense, your majesty, but I just felt as though the situation was not being treated with the necessary urgency." Geralt interjected, speaking in a calm and slightly defiant tone. "I knew for a fact that she couldn't be far away and that time was of the essence, but everyone at that feast seemed more interested in proving themselves worthy of glory and respect than saving your daughter's life. I just did what had to be done."
"How dare you speak that way about these noble men, witcher! Any one of them would be more than willing to give his life for my daughter!"
"He is right, father. If you want to find a culprit, you should direct your gaze to Lord Einar."
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. But his gaze was focused on you, staring at you with a fury you didn't know if the others were able to detect. He took a step forward and you tightened your grip on Geralt's hand, instinctively seeking his support. He stuck to your side, silently letting you know that he was ready to come between him and you if necessary —though he seriously doubted that Einar would be stupid enough to try to hurt you in front of the king.
"This is absurd!" Lord Einar complained with exaggerated outrage. "I will not allow myself to be disrespected in this way! I was invited to this feast to formalize my interest in the princess, which is greater than that of anyone in this room, if I may add. Have you forgotten that it was I who noticed the princess's strange disappearance? If I had not gone out to look for her, perhaps the news of her disappearance would have come too late. And may I remind you, your majesty, that it was I who first offered my services to bring her back safe and sound."
"That was the plan, wasn't it?" Geralt spoke through gritted teeth. "To pay some coins to a bunch of desperate bastards to take her so that you could rescue her and thus win her and the king's heart."
"I will not allow this... thing to disrespect me like this!"
"Your scent was on their clothes. Your name was the last thing they uttered before I slit their throats. You knew you didn't stand a chance with her, so you found a way to force your name to the top of the list."
Intimidated by Geralt's cold, hard stare, Lord Einar turned to look at the king. "These are nothing more than baseless accusations made by someone who clearly wants to distract us from his own guilt and involvement." he said, keeping his head held high as he lied through his teeth. "I beg you, my king, to consider punishment for this insolent witcher."
"Is this proof enough for you?" you snapped, tossing an object on the table. 
After the bandits were dead, Geralt had searched their bodies for some kind of proof that their words were true. That's how he had found a ring in the pocket of one of them that clearly didn't belong to them. It was made of a fine metal and in the center, engraved in gold, was the seal of a noble family: the Blakesley family.
The ring rolled against the dark wood, exposing Lord Einar's lies with each flick of the ring before the gaze of all present. There was nothing he could say to avoid the punishment that was coming, so when your father gave the order and the guards took him by force, he decided to take his rage out on you. His voice echoed through the corridors as he was escorted to the dungeon, shouting a string of insults at you. He questioned your honor and your ability as a ruler, claiming that he only wanted to marry you to ensure that the kingdom would not perish when your father died. 
Those were nothing more than the words of an unstable man who was filled with spite, angered by your rejection. You knew it meant nothing, but you still couldn't help but feel humiliated as he shouted all those things in front of so many people. Your eyes filled with tears and you clung to Geralt almost instinctively, hiding your face in his neck so no one would see you cry. He wrapped his arms around you, ignoring the very unfriendly looks that several of the men in the room gave him. 
Your mother ordered the room to be emptied, realizing that the crowd was doing nothing to help your condition. The last thing you needed at that moment was to feel watched and judged by a bunch of people, so she personally closed the doors behind the last guard to leave the room.
"You should take a long bath, my love. I'll send someone to prepare the tub and clean clothes for you. That will certainly make you feel better." Your mother spoke in a soft voice, placing a hand on your back. "And you, witcher, are more than welcome to stay tonight. I'll have a room prepared for you and bring you some clean clothes. We can talk more in the morning."
You gave your mother a smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, trying to convince her that you were fine. She knew you weren't, but she also knew you well enough not to push you at that moment. So she left the room without adding anything else, leaving you alone with Geralt once again.
"Thank you... for everything." Your voice broke the silence, your eyes traveling from the door to Geralt's face. "I just realized I didn't thank you yet." 
"You don't have to." He didn't need to hear it from your mouth, he could see in your eyes how grateful you were. Your expression hadn't changed much since he had found you, even though you tried hard to hide it, there were still traces of fear and distress in your eyes.
"Of course I have to! You have saved me from a terrible fate, not only at the hands of those bandits, but also at the hands of that... man." There were other words with which you would have liked to describe him, but you decided it was not appropriate for you to utter them. He didn't even deserve that from you. "I'm glad you were dragged here... I don't know what would have become of me without you tonight, Geralt."
The room fell silent as you looked into each other's eyes. You lost yourself in the amber that surrounded his pupils —which seemed to be more dilated, although it could well be an effect of the light, you thought—, trying to discover the secrets hidden in his eyes. Geralt was not easy to read, no matter how hard you tried, you had no idea of the things that could be going through his head at that moment. And yet, there was something in his eyes that calmed you. When he looked back at you, there was a softness in them that invited you to continue to admire them forever. It was a connection unlike anything you had ever felt before. It piqued your curiosity and some other things you didn't quite know how to explain. 
Your hand was still intertwined with Geralt's and you weren't entirely sure for how long. Although you weren't complaining, you found the warmth of his skin against yours extremely comforting. It made you feel less alone, less vulnerable. You trusted him with your life, you knew that as long as he was around nothing bad could happen to you. And boy did you need that at that moment. You were still quite affected by everything that had happened and the idea of being alone terrified you. You needed company, but not just anyone. You needed his company.
"Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?" you broke the silence, clearing your throat to make sure your voice sounded firm. "My foot still hurts a little and I wouldn't want to fall down the stairs."
It was a foolish excuse. You knew it. Geralt knew it. The twisted foot you got while struggling with your captors was not a cause for concern. It hurt a little, yes, but you could still walk normally. All you wanted was an excuse not to be separated from Geralt and luckily for you, he played along. He allowed you to take his arm for stability and walked with you to your quarters. You appreciated his proximity, enjoying the feel of his body pressed against yours as his warmth enveloped you. But unfortunately it only seemed to aggravate his absence when he pulled away from you, willing to leave you alone so you could rest.
Your hand closed around his arm almost as an unwilling reflex. Your body craved his closeness. Your mind needed his company to be at ease. As much as you wanted to, you couldn't let Geralt leave. Not tonight at least. His eyes lingered on your hand, admiring how small it appeared when compared to his arm, before he looked up into your eyes, searching your expression for an explanation.
"Stay, please." Your voice was almost a whisper. Your eyes had trouble making eye contact with him for the first time since you had met. Geralt knew then that you were embarrassed of uttering those words. "I need you. I... I don't want to be alone tonight."
"Are you sure?" He said after a few seconds of silence, his expression firm but gentle. You nodded, looking at him with pleading eyes as you released his arm from your grip. Geralt sighed and finally crossed the threshold of the door, closing it behind him. 
Geralt allowed you to guide him across the room to a door that hid a large private bathtub on the other side. It was already filled with water and salts, ready for you to use it. Everything smelled of you, of that delicious combination of jasmine and vanilla that Geralt found so special. It was intoxicating, like he was breathing in your scent straight from the source. 
"Would you mind helping me with the lace?" Your voice brought him back to reality. Geralt watched as you turned around, gathering your hair over one of your shoulders to expose your back to him so he could unfasten your dress. He knew it was inappropriate and that he was probably breaking some rule —not to mention, taking advantage of the king's hospitality—, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when you were offering yourself to him like that.
Geralt's hands caressed your back first, his fingers slowly tracing a path from your shoulders to where the lacing of your dress ended. You closed your eyes, holding your breath as you felt him slowly loosen your dress. You could feel his imposing figure towering over you. He was so close that you could hear his breathing and feel the heat radiating from his body. You liked the proximity, probably more than you should.
When Geralt finished his work and your dress began to slide down your shoulders, you knew you should have been embarrassed. You were used to being naked in front of servants, but they were always women you trusted, handmaidens who had taken care of you since you were little and helped you dress or bathe. You had never been so exposed in front of a man before and you should definitely feel ashamed, but you were not. You simply let the dress fall to your feet and stepped into the tub as if there was no man present.
The water was warm and the tub was deep enough to hide your modesty if you sat in the right position. The dim candlelight also helped, though ultimately you really didn't mind feeling Geralt's gaze on your body.
"Join me, please. The water's nice and there's room enough for both of us."
Your curious eyes unashamedly traced the muscles of his arms and torso as he revealed himself to you. You noticed the scars that marked his skin, some smaller and some larger, and you couldn't help but wonder what the stories behind them were. Geralt was an exceptional man, unlike anyone you had ever met in your life. He was so rigid and reserved, and yet he had shown nothing but kindness and gentleness in your presence. He was a mystery and you wanted nothing more than to discover what he hid behind those beautiful amber eyes.
Out of respect —and some embarrassment—, you looked away as his hands undid the buttons of his pants. You focused your attention on the jasmine petals floating in the water, feeling your cheeks grow warm as a small voice in your head encouraged you to look up. 
Geralt settled next to you in the tub, avoiding being too close or sitting in front of you so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious in his presence. However, you needed his closeness, so you shortened the distance as much as you could, pressing your arm against his. When he didn't complain, you went a step further and rested your head on his shoulder. Geralt stood still for a moment, debating once again whether his actions were appropriate, but in the end he relaxed. 
He put his arm around your shoulders, effectively pulling you closer to him. A smile formed on your lips as you adjusted yourself in the new position, hiding your face in his neck. Geralt's fingers traced soft lines on the skin of your arm, a caress that both relaxed and excited you. That kind of intimacy was something new to you. Feeling his naked skin against yours, inhaling that musky scent mixed with something you couldn't describe as anything but his own essence, feeling the soft caresses of his calloused fingers, everything made you feel a certain way inside. You didn't have the exact words to describe it. It was like a flame, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and exciting. Ultimately, you didn't care about being able to put a name to what you felt. You just wanted to stay close to Geralt for as long as you were allowed.
Without even realizing it, your hand traveled up to his chest, your curious fingers tracing the jagged lines that marked his skin. You used the scars as a map to his body, letting them guide your path as you explored his chest with your touch. And as your fingers moved, you imagined the heroic stories behind each one, wondering what kind of monsters had inflicted them and if there were any that were human-made.
"I wonder how many princesses you've saved to end up like this." You broke the silence, your voice soft as you got lost in thought. It was mostly a joke, but there was some genuine curiosity hidden in it. 
"Surprisingly, less than you're probably imagining."
You didn't quite know why, but hearing Geralt say that put a smile on your lips. It made you feel special, in a way. He hadn't been hired to save you —technically he hadn't even been invited to the party—, he had no obligation to you or your family, and yet he had risked his life to help you. There was something in you that awakened in him his noblest instincts.
"I'm sure that's what you tell everyone." You laughed, looking up at him from your position on his shoulder. You could admire his profile, his sharp jawline and the way his lips curved upward slightly as he let out a huff.
"Often delicate young women like you find my methods to be too... grotesque. They don't see me as being much different from the monsters I kill." Geralt spoke honestly, remembering the horrified expressions on the faces of the maidens he had sought to save from danger in his past, when he had little experience as a witcher. He was young and naive at the time and believed he could use his skills for more than just hunting monsters. After all, evil came in all shapes and sizes, even in humans. It didn't take him long to understand that humans didn't see a knight of noble spirit when he intervened in such situations, only a mutant designed to kill.
You noticed his thoughtful expression, his eyes looking straight ahead as if his mind was transporting him to another place. You wondered what kind of memories he might have swirling around in his head at that moment, outraged to think that someone could treat him badly after he saved their life. You admitted that he had quite an imposing figure and that his expression wasn't very friendly most of the time, but you still couldn't understand how anyone could be afraid of him. Even before he saved you —when he was just a stranger who took the time to listen to your problems— you saw nothing threatening in him. His beautiful yellow eyes inspired nothing but trust in you from the first moment you made contact with them.
“Then they were all fools." You sat up straight, one hand resting on Geralt's cheek to force him to look at you. "I don't understand how anyone could look at you and see danger in you. Even covered in blood, all I see is... safety and comfort." You gave him a small smile as your finger carefully wiped a small spot of blood from his cheek.
"Or maybe you're being naively nice."
Geralt took a cloth that rested on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the warm water. Then one of his hands cupped your chin, tilting your face slightly so he could get a better look at you in the candlelight. The flames danced in the air, creating shadows on your delicate skin. But even in the dim light he could still see the splashes of blood that stained your beautiful face. They made such a contrast that it was impossible to ignore them. The implication of such a violent act had no place on the delicate face of a princess like you. He hated to see the scratch on your lip, the dirt on your cheeks, the dried blood on your skin. You should not have been subjected to such horrors and he wanted to do everything in his power to erase the evidence from your body. So Geralt took the trouble to wipe the blood away, carefully running the wet cloth over your skin until it was all gone.
You remained silent as he worked on you, completely immobile while you watched him closely. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, but his expression was gentle. His hands moved delicately over your skin, as if he was afraid of breaking you if he wasn't careful. You could barely feel the cloth brushing against your cheek from how slow and gentle Geralt was being. But his fingers... his fingers were another story.
They were warm against your skin, caressing every little spot the cloth passed through to soothe any possible irritation the fabric might arouse. They awakened a tingling sensation as they traveled down your face. When they reached your neck, you knew that Geralt could feel the accelerated pulsing of your heart against his fingertips. It was impossible that he couldn't when you could hear the beating in your ears yourself. His hands felt so big against your neck. If he wanted to hurt you, he could probably do it with just one hand. That should have scared you, considering he was a man you barely knew, but it didn't. You knew he wasn't going to hurt you, not when he caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbones with such gentleness.
"Maybe I'm naive," you broke the silence, your voice barely more audible than a whisper. "But I honestly don't think a mutant designed to kill, as you say, would go to the trouble of caring for me the way you are doing."
Geralt's eyes looked up at you, that intriguing yellow you loved so much capturing you in a transe. They were calling you, daring you to dive into the ocean of honey and mystery that was his gaze. And you obeyed without the slightest resistance, letting your heart take the reins of your body. You leaned towards him, slowly. His hands were still on your neck, but he didn't use them to stop you. On the contrary, he leaned towards you too and when your lips finally collided, he used his grip on your jaw to deepen the kiss.
The kiss started slow, a quick brush of your lips as you finally let yourselves indulge in your deepest desires. But as you became more comfortable in each other's arms, the kiss intensified. You let Geralt guide you, knowing that he would undoubtedly have more experience than you. You surrendered to his lips and the caresses of his tongue, giving yourself to him completely as you struggled to keep up with him. 
That wasn't your first kiss, however, it was the first kiss that felt like this, so... intense, passionate. You barely remembered the boy who had given you your first kiss, but you knew you would remember Geralt for the rest of your life. You didn't know how he did it, but the simple touch of his lips and the strokes of his fingers on your skin turned you to mush between his hands. You had never felt anything like it before and you didn't want to stop. But despite your protests, Geralt suddenly pulled away from you.
"What are you doing?" He didn't sound annoyed or confused, more concerned. 
"I'm taking control of my life." You leaned into him once more and Geralt accepted your kiss, his desperate lips demonstrating his true intentions. He let his desires consume him for a moment before regaining control over his body and pulling away from you again.
"Are you sure?" It wasn't that he wanted to stop, but the voice of morality in the back of his mind compelled him to make sure you wanted the same. He needed to know that he wasn't taking advantage of you, that you weren't throwing yourself into his arms as a result of your vulnerable state after the attack.
"For as long as I can remember, I have always dreamed of meeting a noble prince who would protect me from danger. We would fall in love and live a long and happy life together after our marriage. Now I know that is impossible. I cannot choose who I marry. I cannot choose to marry for love. There's nothing I can do to change it, that's just the way things work." You paused, your hands reaching for Geralt's to entwine your fingers. "But I can still choose who to give myself to, body and soul, for the first time... and you're the closest thing I have to that fantasy."
There was a sadness in your eyes that made Geralt feel bad for you. He didn't know you very well, but he knew you deserved better than a future you didn't want. The inability to choose your own path in life was something that seemed to affect you greatly, and if he was able to bring you some peace he was willing to do so. But the tub full of dirty water was not the place for it, much less considering it would be your first experience of something like that. 
"Speak freely." You said after a few seconds of unbearable silence. "If you don't want to be with me because you don't like me I'll understand. But please don't turn me down just because you think you're guarding my honor or something. I want this... I want you."
Those last words seemed to do the trick, because Geralt's lips joined yours once again. Only this time the kiss was different, much slower and more sensual, though just as desperate. His lips moved in time with yours, tongues intertwined in a sinful dance as Geralt allowed his hands to slowly explore your body. His fingers ignited flames on your skin in their path, pleasure and anticipation building inside you. 
The water in the tub swirled violently as Geralt lifted you into his arms, moving you to sit on his lap as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his shoulders for support, feeling his fingers dig into the sensitive skin of your hips. But it didn't hurt, at least not in a bad way. It was a pleasant ache that made you feel alive. Just like his kisses, which trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. 
Geralt's kisses continued their way down and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his when his lips closed over your nipple. You pushed your chest into him instinctively, giving yourself to him as one of your hands got lost in his hair. Pure pleasure traveled through your veins as his tongue played with your breasts, giving attention to one before moving on to the other. He held you tightly against his body, one strong arm stretched across your back while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his growing erection. 
You both moaned as your cunt made contact with his cock. The sensation you felt when the tip brushed against your little bundle of nerves was unlike anything you had ever felt before. The pleasure was much more intense, much more raw. You could feel it spreading through your body and into your bones. So, naturally, you sought it again, creating a rhythm that had you panting in no time. 
You were forced to stop when Geralt suddenly stood up, carrying you in his arms. Your moan of pleasure turned into a cry of surprise, the water in the tub moving violently, flooding the room as he moved towards the exit. You clung to his shoulders, afraid of falling, as you asked him what he was doing.
"We can't do it here. It has to be done properly, in a bed where you’ll be comfortable, and not in a bathtub full of filthy water."
You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you understood the meaning of his words. Once again, Geralt was looking after you, worrying about you and your well-being more than any other man in your life had ever done. He wanted to make things right, to make sure that your first sexual encounter was a positive experience. And while he wasn't exactly the man you had imagined doing it with, he was quite close to it. Every thing he said, every gesture he made to you, made you feel more confident in your decision.
Geralt carefully laid you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before continuing his assault on your body. He kissed you again and, as you let his tongue explore your mouth, you couldn't help but think how much bigger he felt now that he was leaning over you. He had one arm on either side of your head, holding himself up so he wouldn't crush you with his weight. One of his toned legs rested in between yours, keeping you open and exposed to him. You were essentially trapped under his body, completely at his mercy, and you liked it.
The pleasure building up inside you was starting to feel too overwhelming. As much as you enjoyed Geralt's wet kisses, you needed more. You needed relief. So you pushed your hips into him once more, seeking that intoxicating pleasure you'd felt in the bathtub. Your wet pussy slid easily up his thigh and a wave of pleasure coursed through your body. 
"Fuck!" Geralt moaned as he felt your wetness trickling down his leg. You looked so sensual moving your hips against him with adoring desperation, struggling to find some relief. The little moans that fell from your lips in between ragged breaths drove him crazy, making it difficult for him to control his instincts. He had to be gentle with you, it was your first time and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't pin you down and fuck you until your legs shook.
"Tell me, princess, have you ever touched yourself?" Geralt spoke against your skin as his lips continued their path of wet kisses down your body. "Perhaps when you were alone at night, hidden in the darkness of your chambers."
It took you a few seconds to process Geralt's words, your mind distracted with the way his kisses slowly trailed down your chest, barely pausing on your breasts before continuing to travel down. It made your body tremble with anticipation, wondering what he was up to. He was watching you from his position on your abdomen, lips barely pulling away from your skin so he could observe your face more comfortably, waiting for an answer. The color of his eyes had darkened, the yellow glowing like the flames of the candles that lit the room. There was hunger in them. Geralt was looking at you like a wolf at its prey. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, managing to answer him with a simple negative shake of your head. 
"So you don't know what real pleasure feels like, huh?" You weren't sure if it was a question for you, but you shook your head again anyway. You felt Geralt's lips curving into a smile against the sensitive skin of your lower belly and a shiver ran down your spine when you heard his next words. "I'm going to change that."
Despite the firmness in his voice, Geralt was slow and gentle with each movement he made next. He was careful to position himself between your legs, pushing them open and revealing your most secret part to his hungry gaze. He noticed almost immediately the way you tensed with embarrassment, feeling vulnerable, so he was quick to spread sweet kisses on your right thigh, while gently caressing the skin of your left. He could smell the scent of your arousal with every breath he took. It was intoxicating, the sweet nectar he had been waiting to taste all this time. But first he had to make sure you were comfortable. He was there to pleasure you, nothing mattered if you didn't enjoy it.
"It's okay, my sweet. You don't have to be ashamed, you're beautiful." He spoke against your skin, his voice a raspy, sensual, whisper. "I have to get you ready for my cock, all right? This will feel so good, I promise. But if it doesn't, I want you to tell me, can you do that?" You nodded, but that wasn't enough for him. "I need you to use your words."
"Yes, Geralt, I will."
"Good."
Geralt gave you a few seconds to relax before diving into your cunt, spreading wet kisses down your inner thighs as he got closer and closer to the place where you needed him most. When his tongue finally made contact with the sweet nectar trickling down your folds, he let out a sound that vibrated in his chest with force. All hint of self-control disappeared then, buried under the primal desire that the taste of your arousal awakened in him.
He ate you like a starving man, his tongue exploring your most intimate place with expert skill. Your hips jolted as his lips closed over your small bundle of nerves, your whole body convulsing as you felt pleasure like you had never felt before. It was so intense it was almost too much. It scared you in a way, as it felt like your own body didn't respond to you —like it didn't belong to you. It belonged to Geralt now, and only responded to the stimulation he gave your body.  You were torn between the need to pull away from his entrancing lips —which were no doubt uttering some spell to claim ownership of your innocence— and your body's carnal desire to surrender to his clever tricks in order to continue to feel such pure pleasure.
"Does it feel good, princess?" Geralt spoke between your legs, his warm breath crashing against your pussy and sending shivers down your spine. 
"Yes! So good... please don't stop." You didn't recognize your own voice as you spoke. It sounded raspy from all the moaning, and there was a hint of desperation you'd never heard in yourself before. It wasn't the first time you had begged someone for something you wanted, but it was the first time you actually meant it.
"I won't, I promise. I'm here to make you feel good." Geralt assured between slow, long licks, focusing his attention on your clit before continuing. "But if you're going to take my cock, I'll need to stretch your tight hole." You tensed again and once more he used his strategy of stroking and kissing your thighs to calm you down. You knew that penetration was an important part of the whole thing and you were ready to face it, but still, the unknown scared you a little. "I'm going to insert a finger inside you, is that all right my sweet? It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise it will feel great afterwards. But first I have to know that you still want this."
"Yes, Geralt, I want this. I trust you, please." You gave him a shy smile, looking at him with complete admiration. He saw the desire in your eyes, mixed with anticipation and a hint of fear. But you were confident in your decision, so he continued.
"Relax, I'm going to take care of you." He murmured against your skin, his kisses slowly moving closer to your wet cunt. "Just focus on the pleasure."
Geralt's voice echoed in your mind, your body obeying his commands as if he had cast a spell over you that left you with no other choice. You focused on the fire burning inside you, on the skillful way he flicked his tongue against your abused bundle of nerves and on the knot in your stomach that tightened with each passing second. You tried not to tense up as you felt Geralt's finger press against your entrance, biting your lip and taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. His tongue was doing a good job of distracting you, but you could still feel the slightly painful drag of his finger inside you. 
"You're doing so well for me." Geralt complimented you, keeping his finger still inside you to give you time to get used to the new sensation. You couldn't hide how much it pleased you to hear those words, because your walls clenched around his finger, revealing your deepest desires. Geralt grunted against your pussy, fantasizing about how good your tight hole would feel around his cock. 
It took you a moment to get used to the strange sensation of his intrusion. It wasn't painful exactly, mostly uncomfortable since your walls weren't used to stretching like that. But eventually the discomfort faded into pleasure, bringing new sensations as he slowly began to move his finger inside you. 
Your moans became uncontrollable, increasing in volume with each of Geralt's caresses. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own pleasure, you would have worried about the possibility of being overheard by some servant or guard walking down the corridor. You knew it might potentially ruin your reputation, but you couldn't focus on anything other than the way Geralt's long, thick finger stretched you, making you feel full in the most pleasurable way possible. 
"Geralt I-" You tried to speak, but the air caught in your throat as you felt the knot in your stomach becoming incredibly tight, threatening to snap.
"I know, my sweet, I know." Geralt interrupted you as he noticed your trouble forming coherent sentences. He could sense you were getting close to relief in the way your walls tightened around his finger, your juices dripping down your legs and soaking his hand. "Just let yourself go. I've got you."
Geralt added another finger inside you, stretching your walls even further. He was careful, his movements slow and precise as he both prepared you for his cock and brought you closer to the edge. His mouth focused on your clit, his lips closing around your sensitive pearl as his fingers explored your insides, reaching that spongy place deep inside you and rubbing it until your whole body shuddered with your orgasm.
It felt like your insides exploded, the tension that had been building in your core suddenly snapping as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Your mind went blank, eyes rolling back as Geralt did his best to hold back the violent spasms of your muscles. 
And then your body fell limp on the sheets. You could barely hear the world around you over your racing heartbeat that throbbed in your ears. You knew Geralt was muttering things against your skin as he kissed his way back up, but your mind was too lost in the pleasure to make sense of his words. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, your body desperate for oxygen as it struggled to regain control.
"There you are!" Geralt gave you a soft smile as you opened your eyes, his face slowly coming into focus on your clouded vision. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine! That was..." you paused, searching for the words to describe it. Although explaining your feelings proved to be more difficult than you expected. You were convinced that there were no words in any language you knew to describe what he had made you feel. So you let out an airy laugh, hiding your face in his neck and spreading small kisses over his skin.
"Do you still want to go through with this?" Geralt asked you, pulling away from you a little so he could look into your eyes. You kissed him back, tasting the sweet flavor of your arousal on his tongue. It was strangely erotic for you to feel your own essence on him, like a mark that, though temporary, showed to whom his lips belonged. It sent a rush of desire and confidence through your body, igniting the fire inside you once more.
The pressure of his cock was nothing like his fingers. While the stretching sensation was not completely foreign to you, Geralt's cock was much longer and thicker than his fingers so it hurt a lot more when he began to push it into you. The mixture of your arousal and his saliva helped his member slide more easily through your walls, but you still couldn't hold back the whine of pain, which vibrated against Geralt's lips. 
"It's all right... you're all right. Just a little more." He crooned as he rested his forehead against yours. His fingers caressed the skin of your hip, giving you comfort as you clung to his shoulders. "You're doing so good for me, my sweet." His voice was soft, but erratic, laced with the clear pleasure that sliding so torturously slow inside your tight walls brought him. 
Geralt remained immobile once he bottomed out, spreading kisses all over your face and neck as he gave you time to adjust to his size. It was the hardest task he had ever had to do in his life. Facing any monster was easier than staying still when your warm, wet walls wrapped around him so well. He was desperate to move, pull out of you almost completely only to slam back in, thrusting his hips against yours as he pinned you against the bed. But it was your first time, so he had to be gentle with you. You weren't ready for that kind of rough loving, so Geralt pushed his dark desires aside and waited for you to give him the signal to move. 
After a while, your moans of discomfort turned into whimpers of protest, not from pain, but from the growing fire inside you that wasn't being tended to. You experimentally moved your hips against Geralt's, just to see what it would feel like. It was a small movement, but it was enough to push his cock deeper inside you, sparking a pleasurable tingling sensation that spread throughout your body. So you did it again, moving with more confidence this time. And again, only this time, Geralt met you halfway, grinding his hips against yours.
Your walls tightened around his cock and the growl that escaped his lips was so deep and primal that it almost pushed you over the edge once more. Something about knowing that you were the cause of those moans, that your body, your pussy, your caresses, were responsible for such reactions was so arousing. Knowing that even though you were inexperienced you were able to elicit such pleasure in him made you feel more comfortable and confident. You were turning his world upside down as much as he was turning yours.
"You look so beautiful like this." Geralt said as he slightly increased the rhythm of his hips. "So small and fragile underneath me, eyes filled with lust as you try your best to take me in your tight hole." 
You moaned into his mouth, desperately searching his lips for something to keep you grounded as pleasure took over your body and mind. Your cunt clenched at his words, finding the mix of softness and roughness in his action incredibly arousing. His hips moved against yours in a consistent and deep, yet slow and sensual rhythm. His calloused fingers roamed over your body, caressing you in such a subtle way that it gave you goosebumps. His filthy words perfectly balanced flattery and roughness, awakening feelings you didn't know you had. It was all a dangerous, overwhelming mix, slowly getting to you close to the edge.
"Does it feel good? Do you like feeling me deep inside you?" You could only moan incoherently in response, hiding your face in the crook of Geralt's neck as your nails dug into his back. "I like it too. You feel so good wrapped around me, my perfect princess."
"Yes, I'm yours! I'm all yours, please..." You begged, for what, you weren't sure. But that didn't really matter, you just wanted Geralt to do whatever he wanted with you. You knew there was no future in your relationship, but this was no time to think about tomorrow. At that moment you were giving yourself body and soul to him, allowing him permission to use and explore your body as he wished.
"Yes you are, but not just for tonight." Geralt moaned in your ear, his voice a deep hoarse whisper. He sucked a mark just below your earlobe, nibbling the sensitive area playfully before continuing to speak. "You will always remember this night and think of me when your future husband takes you to bed on your wedding night. He's not going to compare to me... to how good I'm making you feel. But that's fine, because at least you had a chance to know what it feels like to be adored like you truly deserve, my princess."
"Fuck, Geralt! I'm-" Your warning was interrupted by a moan as you felt him sink his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck at the same time he pushed his member incredibly deep inside you.
"I know, I can feel you squeezing me so tight. It's alright, just let go for me, my sweet. I want to feel you as you come undone on my cock." 
His hand traveled south, calloused fingers pressing against your abused bundle of nerves, drawing circles over it. The way your pussy clenched around his cock made it hard to focus, his own orgasm approaching with alarming speed. But he kept a steady rhythm, his hips moving in a slow, sensual way to make sure his cock brushed that special place inside you without causing you any pain.
"That's it, keep making those pretty notices for me. You're doing so good for me, my beautiful, perfect, princess. Just let go, I've got you. You're safe with me, just let go."
It was the softness in his husky voice that finally pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Geralt's name was the last thing you uttered before the world around you disappeared behind the waves of pleasure. It was a pathetic whimper, a plea for mercy as you felt frightened by the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Geralt was sure he had never heard a more sensual melody. The way you had uttered his name just before the pleasure exploded inside you was something he was never going to forget.
"That's it, my sweet. You did such a good job for me." He complimented you, slowing down the rhythm of his hips to give you time to recover. "You're alright. I'm here, I've got you. Just breathe... that's it." 
Geralt's voice helped you refocus on the real world, his sweet kisses slowly lifting the fog that clouded your mind. You could still feel him inside you, his cock throbbing desperate for relief. The shallow thrusts weren't enough and you needed to feel him falling apart inside you. You needed to know what it felt like to have a man —and especially him— come inside you. And you knew it was safe with him since witchers were incapable of fathering children as a result of their mutations.
"Geralt, please... I want to feel you." You managed to say between gasps, locking your legs around his hips to keep him in place, pressed inside you. He let out a deep growl as he understood the meaning behind your words, his eyes darkening with lust. You were definitely going to be the death of him.
"Of course, my sweet, how could I deny you anything?" He murmurs against your lips, slowly increasing the rhythm of his hips. "You want to feel my seed deep inside you, is that it? You want me to fill you up, leave a part of me inside you so you won't miss me so much when I'm gone?"
His words alone were enough to ignite that flame inside you again. Your body was tired, but still screamed for more. Geralt's thrusts became erratic with each passing second, desperate to reach his own relief. And in the search for his pleasure he was taking you with him to a new limit. 
"I will give it to you, my princess. I will give you all of me. I could never deny you anything, my sweet, beautiful girl."
His sweet words contrasted with the harshness of his movements, hips crashing against yours in desperate thrusts. He was getting closer to his relief and he could feel in the way your cunt clenched around his cock that you were too. His thumb focused on your clit once more, one, two, three strokes accompanied by his thrusts and you were crying his name again. But he didn't get to enjoy much of the way you tightened around him, because he came seconds later, shooting his load deep inside you.
Geralt collapsed on top of you, his body crushing you against the bed as you both tried to catch your breath. But even though he was much bigger than you, it wasn't an uncomfortable position. The weight of his body felt comforting against yours. You liked the way he hid his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your sweaty skin. It gave you the opportunity to stroke his back and run your fingers through his hair. It felt intimate, in a completely different way than the sex you'd just had. 
You whined in protest as he rolled to the side, feeling the mixture of your arousal and his sliding down your legs now that his cock had left you. It was a strange sensation to feel empty without him inside you. You didn't know such a feeling was possible, for you that used to be normal, the only way to feel. But now that you had had Geralt buried deep inside you, that you had felt his seed filling you to the brim, you would always be aware of that strange emptiness between your legs.
"How are you feeling?" you heard him say and you struggled to open your eyes, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He was standing at the foot of the bed, a cloth in his hand, and you wondered when he had moved from your side without you noticing.
"Great! That was... great." You mumbled, still unable to find an adequate word to describe how good he had made you feel.
Geralt gave you a small smile before lowering his face to your legs, placing small kisses on your skin as he moved closer and closer to your center. "Open up for me, my princess. I need to clean you." 
You reluctantly complied, feeling much more exposed and vulnerable now that the deed was done. However, he was gentle with you, moving carefully as he cleaned you so as not to irritate your sensitive, abused cunt. And when he was done, he kissed his way down your face, caressing your skin with his lips, culminating his journey in your mouth.
"What about you?" you tried to sound casual as you spoke, though you failed miserably. "Was it... good for you too?" You immediately regretted your choice of words, worrying that you had ruined the moment.
"I thought I had been quite clear if not with my words, with my actions at least." Geralt let out an airy laugh and you followed suit, feeling a little more relieved. 
Then the room fell into silence. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable one, but a peaceful one. You got lost in Geralt's eyes, admiring the yellow glow that was much softer now, though just as captivating. The candlelight reflected in them in a special way, highlighting their unique beauty. You could stare at them for hours if it weren't for the tiredness that was slowly beginning to take hold of you. 
You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you felt Geralt move beside you. You stopped feeling the weight of his body on the bed, so you opened your eyes immediately. Your hand flew to his arm, fingers closing around his wrist. "Please don't go," you begged as you saw that he had sat up in bed. "I want you to stay with me tonight."
Geralt smiled, the corners of his lip curving slightly upward as he reached out with his free arm to grab the blanket that had been left forgotten at the foot of the bed. His eyes lowered to your hand and his expression turned hard as he noticed the ligature marks on your skin. He hated to know the horrible treatment that someone as delicate and beautiful as you had to go through at the hands of those bandits. Even though he had rescued you before something even worse happened to you, as he looked at the marks on your wrists he feared he had not been quick enough.
Noticing the change in his expression, your eyes followed Geralt's gaze with curiosity. You felt embarrassed when you realized what he was looking at with such intensity and released his grip on his arm, seeking to hide your injured wrist. But he didn't let you. Geralt intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to his lips. His eyes didn't break contact with you as he scattered delicate kisses over the irritated area of your wrist, showing you that you had nothing to be ashamed of with him.
"I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to, my princess. I'm here to serve you tonight." Geralt said as he lay down next to you once again, covering you both with the blanket.
You took advantage of his words and his desire to please you by curling up against him, resting your head on his chest. Geralt wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you even tighter against his body as he let his fingers trace invisible patterns on your skin. It was extremely relaxing, his gentle touch and the warmth of his body enveloping you was exactly what your tired mind needed to rest. All the fear, the terrifying memories of your attackers and the feeling of danger completely disappeared as he held you in his arms. 
"Good, because I feel safer when I'm in your arms." You mumbled as you closed your eyes, feeling sleep slowly overcome you.
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It was hard to say goodbye to Geralt when the time came for him to leave. He had only stayed at the castle for a couple of days at your father's insistence, but that had been more than enough for you to grow fond of him. He was not a very talkative person, but that only made your conversations more interesting. He was intriguing, a closed book that only opened with the pronunciation of the right words. You had fun unraveling some of his history, hearing about his adventures and the monsters he had faced. He was definitely the most interesting man you had ever met - far more interesting and noble than most of the men who were competing for your hand in marriage. And now you had to see him go.
You always knew that your days were numbered, that Geralt would eventually leave and you would have to go back to reality. You thought you could do it, enjoy his company and the illusion of freedom you had created with him and then say goodbye as if nothing happened, but you would be lying if you said you weren't a little sad about his departure. Especially because you didn't know if you would ever see him again. Maybe on your wedding day, if you invited Jaskier to play at the festivities he would bring him as security again. Or perhaps, if the kingdom was haunted by some evil creature he would find his way back to you. But nothing was certain and that made you feel quite sad.
"I guess this is our goodbye." You watched Geralt settle his horse's saddle, tucking away his swords and clutching his bag as he prepared to leave. You tried to hide the grimace of sadness that wanted to form on your face, but the disappointment in your voice betrayed you. "I'll never see you again, will I?"
Geralt stopped what he was doing to look you in the eyes. You could have sworn you saw a glint of sadness in the golden fire of his irises, though it disappeared as he blinked. "It'll probably be a while, yeah." He sighed. "But nothing is set in stone. Maybe the search for a job will bring me back down these roads."
You smiled. Even moments before he left, he was still making an effort to make you feel good. "I'd like that." You took a couple of steps closer to him, taking his hand in yours to feel his skin against yours one last time. "The gates of this castle will always be open to you, Geralt of Rivia. And as long as I am alive, you will always find safe passage through these lands."
"Thank you, your highness. It is an honor." He bowed slightly even though he knew it was not necessary. Formalities had been forgotten between you since your night together. Then, he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips caressed your skin gently, planting a soft kiss of farewell. "Until we meet again."
You held back the urge you had to taste the flavor of his lips one last time, knowing that there were too many eyes around you that would deem such behavior inappropriate. And perhaps they were right, after all, a respectable maiden like you, in search of a husband to marry and rule with, could not be seen kissing anybody. You knew you would probably regret it for the rest of your life —especially if Geralt never stopped by again—, but it was the right thing to do. Your days of freedom were over, now you had to resume your responsibilities as a princess and that meant holding back the urge you had to run after Geralt, get on his horse and let him take you wherever he wanted. So you just watched him leave, seeing how his figure became smaller and smaller on the horizon while you wished with all your soul that fate would cross your path again.
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