Afriendtoravens - Sans Bloodlust ; - Tumblr Blog

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"If we're being honest, I prefer being by your side... It's where I'd rather be. In any case, I feel a soul-deep need to keep you safe, if it's possible. That is, if you believe in a soul. Some do, some don't. The Gharasham tribe do."

He sipped at his ale, brows rising afterward.

"One day she might forgive you. I know there's still animosity there. I understand that, but there will come forgiveness someday. Maybe not soon, which I hate to admit aloud for your sake, but it will come. She's always found it rather difficult to remain angry with you. You know that as well as I do, my friend."

-----

Geralt considered the question for a moment, taking another swallow of ale before setting the mug down on the table again. His gaze found Regis and he watched him for a long moment, he could tell there was so much more woven into that question, even if he couldn't quite decipher it all.

"I don't know," he shrugged slightly. "You know what Yen's like. She may come and stay occasionally, especially if Ciri is around, but... Who knows."

He paused for a moment, rolling his mug between his palms idly, thoughtfully.

"Honestly, even now I'm not sure if she's ever really forgiven me for that wish."

A low sound of agreement escaped his throat.

"I like having you by my side." Even if they didn't always stay that way, sometimes life -and bloody destiny- had other plans for them.

⸻

Regis' eyes lingered on Geralt rather thoughtfully for a moment, a brow rising subtly before he dared to ask, "Will Yennifer be coming to visit? I know things are tenuous at the best of times, but... will she be coming to live with you as well? Or, at the very least, will she stay with you from time to time?"

The question stung to ask, and for a multitude of reasons, but none of them would ever be voiced aloud or even be written in his journals. No, these thoughts would be kept to himself. Geralt had never been his to want, nor would he ever belong to the witcher. They were merely friends. The witcher's heart belonged to another.

He toyed with the handle of his tankard, dark eyes resting lazily on the table.

"A place to forge new memories sounds marvelous. I consider myself very lucky to be your friend, Geralt, and to once again be by your side."

-----

"Well, you are tenacious and loyal like that," Geralt mused in response to Regis' words that he'd have found Geralt eventually. Truthfully, he was incredibly grateful for that, he was comfortable enough in himself to know that sometimes the volume of trouble he found himself in meant he needed the help.

He understood the ache that Regis was talking about, he knew that pain intimately himself, but he didn't know how to make it better for him. Other than to offer him company and a place, which he already had. Hopefully, that would be enough to dull the pain somewhat.

"No."

It wasn't a surprise that Geralt had never thought of a home or his own, Witchers didn't usually get that chance. And after Vesemir's death, Kaer Morhen just hadn't been home.

"It does feel good though, to know I have somewhere that's mine. A shelter I can offer to friends when they need it. After everything, I think we might all need that at some point."

He poured himself another ale and took a drink, setting his mug down with a little thunk and a half smile a Regis.

"Somewhere to make new memories, yeah."

⸻

There was no denying how wonderful this all was. They were two lonely people who seemed to have found each other by mere happenstance. It warmed him inside. Her nose dipping into his sideburn left him laughing, and even as he returned the soft kiss he smiled against her lips.

"This is nice," he confessed, voice low, warm, and honest. "It's a surprise, I'll admit, but a wonderful one, nonetheless."

He held her close after murmuring that, content to enjoy the sound of the raging storm outside and the pitter-patter of her heartbeat in his ears, almost the tip-tap of a bird's wings fluttering in flight. It was comforting. His eyes closed for a while, expression one of joy, so carefree and entirely amused with himself. He never acted on impulse. Tonight, apparently, was a night of many firsts. In retrospect, though, he was glad that she was the first human he had ever kissed. She was someone who happened to be well worth the wait.

Rose smiled a little sheepishly at his words. She closed her eyes, enjoying their proximity as she inhaled his scent. His scent, the mix of herbs, had a calming effect on her. It was interesting to her in a way. As a herbalsist, she always had loved the scent of certain herbs, but on him, it was even better somehow.

She looked up at him and kissed his cheek before practically burying her nose in his sideburns. They were so soft. Rose then carefully placed a gentle kiss on his lips once more. It was a short and sweet gesture. If she could, she would have kept kissing him all over. It felt so good to shower him in affection. He deserved it and like her, he seemed to need it. They both had been so starved for attention like this.

“I must find Dettlaff. Help him. I certainly owe him that much.”

Bygones.

I’m trying to learn how to Dettlaff* plus some recent sketches i didnt post on here yet i think.

( for @starwrittenfates. )

Some scribbles from last week.

but plants are the best companions

Video game meme: [2/5] friendships.

Geralt and Regis - The Witcher 3

Go on anon and send my muse a nightmare! Could be about people they love, people they’ve lost, events in their lives, irrational fears they have, or anything you want! 

send me " secret files " and i'll post a headcanon about my muse I've never talked about before

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"Do I really?"

He drew away from her throat with the smallest of smiles, loving the attention she paid to his face. Her fingers were so careful, so gentle. She apparently loved his sideburns as well. Her hands continued to graze the short hair there. It made him hum, content and relaxed, the wine leaving him lazy and groggy as his dark eyes watched her.

In all fairness, he hadn't felt this wanted nor this cared for in a very long time. His regeneration, which was still incomplete, had been so taxing on him. He'd been entirely focused on survival. He had no time for anything else, and especially not for this.

His back came to rest against the cushions on the sofa and he drew her with him to curl into his side as they sat together. Her warmth was altogether intoxicating and he glanced down at her with a soft expression upon his face, fingers running along her forearm sweetly.

"You're worthy of all of it," he confessed. "I knew you were from the moment you brought me home and showed me such kindness."

Rose took a deep breath, her breathing still slightly hitched, heart beating fast, her face still flushed. She closed her eyes, simply relishing his affection, the proximity. It was like she had found something she was missing for so long. No more loneliness in that moment. She felt so seen, so loved and she wanted to make him feel it too.

Her lips grazed his forehead and she placed a gentle kiss on it as his lips wandered across the hollow of her neck, her hands gently caressing his neck and the side of his face. "You too." she hummed quietly. He was exceptional. Nobody had ever made her feel so seen, appreciated and loved. He never judged her for her albinism, never treated her like a curiousity. It was kind of odd considering they met not too long ago, yet she couldn't deny how Regis made her feel.

"Y-you make me feel things I've never felt before." Rose quietly confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

( made a thing for my bestie, @bloodandwhite. kinda thinking you guys might enjoy this mix too, @starwrittenfates & @albinoxherbalist. hope so, anyway. )

Just because someone slows down doesn't mean they are not interested anymore!

I have seen anxiety-inducing posts about partners drifting apart and having lost interest when not interacting, but real life happens fam. Yes, when we are low on brain juice, we choose to reply to threads that appeal the most to us at that time to not get swamped in threads too much.

But we REALLY need to stop assuming the worst about our partner right away when our thread is not among the few chosen ones and takes longer to get replied to.

Maybe your partner wants to tend to your reply when they feel less tired, to give you the best they can do? Work and private stress can also take a while to subdue, so please be patient with your partner and don't just softblock because your brain assumes only bad things.

Sometimes we are in a bad place ourselves and need to step back a bit instead of projecting our own insecurities onto our partners in these moments. And taking time for yourself is perfectly okay. Being chronically online is not healthy in the long run.

⸻

Every sensation was overwhelming in the best possible way. He was slightly dazed as she drew away from his lips, instead choosing to pepper his face with sweet kisses. He had the grace not to lean forward to beg for more. Nevertheless, a bemused grumble rose in his throat and tumbled from his lips mere moments later. The sound morphed into something more pleased, though, as her lips brushed the tip of his nose with such a wonderous affection.

His fingers, splayed out across her back, drew her nearer as he lazily nosed at her jaw. So close to her neck like this, something suddenly occurred to him and rendered him speechless. The urge to drink was nonexistent. Normally, it proved to be an annoying, pestering thing, always nagging away at him. He simply focused on and enjoyed the scent of his herbs in its stead. He chose the scent of chamomile, sage, et cetera. It helped to ease the afflicting ache and the oncoming urge. In the present, though, there was none of it.

On an experimental whim, he carefully buried his nose in her neck. He drew a line of slow kisses across her warm skin, soft and tender, and hummed pleasantly into the hollow of her throat.

Moments later, the truth hit him: her albinism and the genetic differences there must have been its cause. Her blood didn't sing to him, calling out for him and pleading with him to drink in the same way as most other human blood did. The bloodlust was gone. It was just another reason, perhaps, that he felt so drawn to her. He hadn't even noticed. How could something this monumental slip past an educated man such as him? He sighed with relief, despite the way this entire scene and his realization had left him utterly flustered, and eventually murmured to her.

"You're exceptional. I think you deserve to hear the words said aloud."

She was—in so many ways—but the majority of them he could never share with her. She couldn't discover what he was. It was a dark, depressing thought, but it was all true. It would ruin things.

Rose got completely lost in the sensation of their kiss. It was gentle and loving, so tender. Her heart was beating fast as her fingers kept going through his sideburns and trailing along his jawline. She loved the feeling of his arms around her, the way his fingers practically combed through her white hair.

Once their lips had parted for a moment, she took a few heavy breaths. Her hand was still resting on the side of his face, her finger running across his soft sideburns. She loved touching those a lot more than she'd like to admit. A soft smile formed on her flushed face as he spoke before their lips met once again. Her eyes also fell shut, getting lost in the moment.

This kiss was equally loving, but a bit more passionate, her breath growing heavier by the second. It was like the world around them had melted away. Her free hand held onto his shoulder, as if he'd vanish if she let go. Once their lips parted once more, she immediately placed a soft kiss on the edge of his mouth, then on the tip of his nose.

found here.

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"I think that sounds great," Regis replied, a soft smile tugging at the very corners of his lips. He nudged Dettlaff's shoulder with his again in a clear gesture meant for what it was: fondness, love, and comfort, and eventually turned to stir their stew. "The sentiment is true. We can no more change our nature than the waters can cease their flow."

When dinner was finished, still bubbling away on the fire, he dished out enough for their fill into two bowls and gently offered one to his friend. He dug out two spoons from his pack and handed one to him as well. Everything smelled amazing and he relaxed back on the blanket he'd placed down earlier, spoon stirring his meal in its bowl.

"Yes," he added, "we're going to be just fine, you and I. We'll find our way. We've managed thus far, haven't we? By the skin of our teeth, perhaps, but we're alive. That's all that matters."

At his words, Dettlaff couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, quietly listening to his friend speak and explain himself. He knew Regis meant well. But he wasn't used to being taken care of by anyone else. He had been used to doing things on his own, fending for himself and others, but now, it was all so different.

Thanks to everything that happened with Syanna, Dettlaff felt as though his world was changing again, having to learn how to navigate in it all over again. It was scary, but at least he knew he could trust in his friend. There was at least still someone in this strange place he could look to.

"I can't help but be pack-oriented. It's in my nature as you well know." He pointed out. "Just as it is in yours to be a healer, my friend. Perhaps we can come to a...compromise of sorts on this matter? You take care of me, and I'll take care of you? Seems right."

⸻

Geralt's comment about his faith in their reunion left him smiling softly, thoughtful now. He was struck by an urge to reach out for his friend, fingers itching to clasp his own in a comforting gesture. Nevertheless, he refrained. With a soft sigh, head tilting, he listened as the witcher continued speaking.

"It was something that I've always tightly held onto the hope of," he later said. "And again, like I've already said, I would have sought you out had it not come to pass... Truthfully, I seem to be rather terrible at staying away from my friends, especially when and where it comes to offering my aid should it be needed. You know that. It's how we found one another again. I knew you were in Toussaint, but hadn't yet seen you. Not until... everything with Dettlaff, in that blasted warehouse. But yes, a shockingly relaxing reuinion with you as been the most surprising fact of all. I'm rather grateful. No monsters to hunt—not yet, at least—and time to talk. We've needed that."

With a fresh tankard of ale now, Regis sipped at it and eyed his friend from across the table. A few moments passed and he grinned.

"I rather like that idea. It would be a lie to say that Toussaint holds the best of memories for me, most of them have been a distant, throbbing ache left to unfurl and rot inside of me—but perhaps, given time, things will improve, and better ones may yet take their place. Ones with you, for instance. Corvo Bianco sounds like a dream. It's your home. Did you ever dream of having one someday? I can't help but ask. I know you too well. As it stands, I'm afraid I might already have the answer I seek."

-----

"Well, I'm glad at least you had faith that we'd meet again."

The words were gruff but he meant them all the same. People needed faith he knew that even if he didn't necessarily have any himself. It was something of a comfort, in fact. Especially in knowing how important he was to the other man, that was worth its weight in gold.

"Nowhere specific," he replied, idly scratching at the scruff along the edge of his jaw, not quite a full beard yet.

"I was thinking maybe I'd slowly make my way back to the vineyard, perhaps pick up a few contracts on the way. See where the Path leads me."

⸻

That kiss left his pulse skyrocketing, practically galloping away in his chest. He was breathless, lost for a while as they discovered one another in a more intimate way. Hesitant hands fell from her cheek and the sofa to land upon her back, wanting to keep her tucked close.

The kiss itself was slow, lazy, and utterly delectable as their mouths dipped and chased each other, and Regis was unable to hold back the low hum of approval. Rose wanted this, wanted him, and it was sweeter than anything he had ever realized in such a long time. The notion was wholly comforting.

His gentle grip on her grew tighter with an outpouring of emotion, and he began a course of raising his hands along the curved ridge of her spine, feeling the expanse of her dress-covered back and delighting in each subtle shift of delicate muscle he could feel as she continued to kiss him, his words a mere murmur against her lips as he drew back to allow her a gasping breath. Long fingers dipped into her hair, elated to find that it was as soft as it appeared.

"I'm ever so grateful that you didn't slap me," he teased breathlessly. "It would have been highly unfortunate. As far as I can tell, despite our current state of drunkenness, your wonderful lips needed kissing. Who am I to resist?"

He pressed another, softer kiss to her lips, eyes falling shut in bliss.

The sensation of his hand on her cheek was almost too much to handle for her at first. A soft gasp escaped her as his thumb ran across her pale skin. She felt her cheeks growing hotter. It was a good thing she couldn't see herself. Seeing how red she was at that moment, she probably would have passed out from embarassment.

It actually took him saying it out loud for her to realize that he felt the same way she felt. He was right. Nobody would write such poems like he did about her just for the hell of it. He felt it too, this overwhelming affection.

Rose didn't even really hesitate. It was as if her mind had been wiped blank by his proximity, his touch. Her heart beat fast and her breath slightly hitched as she gave into the urge to kiss him. She closed her eyes before she softly pressed her lips against his. It was a short, sweet, gentle kiss. Rose's hand had gone up to the side of his face as their lips met, her fingers tracing his sideburns. They felt soft, like everything about him did. Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest, but she didn't care. It was like the world around her had faded to nothing in that moment and nothing else mattered but him.

⸻

As Regis finished his tankard of frothy ale, a soft grin found his lips. His eyes, which were no doubt shining with emotion, moved the witcher's way. He nodded, thoughts a mere jumble at the moment.

"I am. Alive and in the flesh, right here in front of you. As are you, my friend. Alive and well, what a sight. It's a miracle, isn't it? I can't believe we've survived the ages." He sighed, expression softening. "All teasing aside, I knew we would cross paths again. If you hadn't stumbled upon me, sooner or later, I would have written to you. I might have even gone to visit Corvo Bianco. I find myself unable to stay away for too long. Your presence and friendship, as a pair, are far too magnetic to resist."

His head tilted as he asked, "Where were you planning on heading to next? Did you have anywhere in mind?"

His eyes rested on the hearth after he spoke, enjoying the warm, comfortable atmosphere in the room. They rarely ever had the time for this sort of luxury. Truthfully, it was a nice change in pace.

-----

He arched a brow at Regis' assessment, shifting in his seat to get more comfortable, lounging almost, long legs stretched out comfortably beneath the table.

A low sound of agreement escaped him as he lifted his mug again, taking a large swallow.

"Fortuitous indeed."

He eyed Regis for several more moments.

"It is good to see you, too. I wasn't sure we'd cross paths again after you left but I'm pleased to be proved wrong. I'm still not over the fact that you're actually alive."

Before their reunion at Toussaint Regis had been dead for a long while, as far as he'd known. It was still incredibly satisfying and healing to see the man alive and well.

⸻

After finishing his meal, Regis did the same. He slid the bowl away from him and tapped his fingers along the mug of ale. His head tilted as he looked at his friend.

"No, no. Sometimes your expression is quite pleasant. Like right now, for instance. Your mood is light. I daresay it's rather contagious. It's good to see you again. And yes, I know I've probably said as much continuously for the past few hours but it's only the truth. Your coming here, while it turned out to be incredibly fortuitous in timing, was a shock to the system. I was stunned when I saw you earlier, resting under that tree. I'm glad I ventured into the town square when I did."

-----

He grunted and slid the last bit of bread into his mouth as he eyed Regis. He chewed slowly and then nudged his empty bowl away from him utterly satisfied now.

"Well, you are tall so that would be the obvious course of action."

He dragged his mug of ale closer, lifting it for a lazy sip.

"Do I indeed?" Regis wasn't wrong, that was fair. "Am I not the bad one all the time? I do only have the one face after all."

⸻

"Because, my dear witcher, if I'm the one who answers the door, she'll no doubt take it as a resounding 'yes' and climb me like a dragon rider. I rather thought the answer would be an obvious one. You're the intimidating one. You can answer the door."

The stew was indeed marvelous, and he lounged back lazily after finishing the meal. Dipping his final piece of oat-covered bread crust into leftover broth, he eyed Geralt with a soft laugh.

"We'll play our usual roles and routine: I'm the good soldier, and you're the bad one. You certainly have the face for it when you're in a sullen, mardy mood. Alright?"

-----

"Why am I the one being pushed out of bed?"

he asked with a smirk, tearing a piece of bread to scoop up some of the gravy from the stew, which was bloody wonderful. It was the first hearty meal he'd had in a while.

It felt good to sit like this with someone again, with Regis again. He had missed him.

⸻

He was laughing as he found himself a spot at an open table, eyes dancing with mirth. Geralt truly was ridiculous, but in the best of ways. It said a lot, he rather thought, just to hear the amusement and playfulness in the witcher's tone. He was in a good mood. It eased something in Regis' chest, made him feel lighter, and healed a little piece of him.

"Don't encourage her," he later teased lightly as he made himself comfortable. "Just wait until she comes to my room tonight and I practically push you out of bed to answer her incessant knocking. She'll either run away in fright or beg to join us."

He eventually drew his bowl nearer to him, along with the bread, and began to eat. It was warm and filling and everything he'd been craving for the afternoon. He had just barely paused his work this morning to fetch a small meal.

-----

"Setting aside the comment about me, which is the most flattering way I've heard myself described," he glanced at Regis as he took another mouthful of ale.

"You don't need to be pretty to have a dazzlingly beautiful personality. You've surely noticed by now how people flock to you, how easily you make friends and how people are just... Nicer when you're around. Besides, your cheekbones could cut paper."

As urged Geralt followed Regis, making sure to snag a jig of ale from the flirty innkeeper before they departed, quite unable to help himself he returned the wink before trekking after Regis, already looking forward to the meal.

amber, anthracite