ᴡɪᴛᴄʜᴇʀ

ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀsᴛᴇʀɴ ʀɪᴅᴇʀ

[haaklandian]

IM SURE MOST OF YALL FIGURED THIS BUT Kaasamir is goin on a hiatus!! it’s not forever, but i just ain’t been feelin this boy lately! but it’ll surely arise as most my muses do and i’ll be back like normal uvu

[romelle-moved]

what if we were sparring and your shirt was clinging to your body with sweat and your eyes were really intense and that got me distracted enough for you to pin me to the ground and sit on top of me? and maybe you were breathing all heavy and gave me a smug little smirk while saying “i win” and then i went “are you sure?” and grabbed you by the collar to pull you in for a kiss? and perhaps once we separated i said “because i think i’m the real winner here.” with our foreheads still pressed together? i think that’d be kinda cool idk!

[tsevile]

Ofir’s located somewhere at the end of the world, far beyond the seas. There are no normal animals. The horses are either white with black stripes or mean and hunchbacked, while cattle have tails growing out of their faces instead of their rears. It’s surprising, then, that the Ofiri merchants look like normal human beings – they have one head each, as many limbs as they should and behinds in the right places. Still, they haggle like fiends and create wonders like no Nordling can.

[gonegryf]

                                                                THE FALSE BEARER

[gonegryf]

                                                                THE FALSE BEARER

[gonegryf]

                                                                THE FALSE BEARER

[haaklandian]

kaasamir being the better archer out of his fellow witcher brothers gives me life bc he was the youngest out of them and he often made them eat dust. pissed some off, amused others-

[haaklandian]

WHO WANNA PLOT COME AT ME ILL BE HOME IN A DAY

[geminihurt]

[haaklandian]

Crumb of nasty™️: ride kaas or let him ride u thanks

[haaklandian]

guiltsworn‌:

        to be torn from the shadows  was not what he’d planned for; vic had let his guard down,  &  found himself pulled forward by a grand force, releasing the rope with enough time to catch himself——–falling forward onto his hands with a gasp, laughter cut short from the ALARM of it all. once, he may have been able to resist this sudden action; but he’d addled his health too terribly, in recent years,  &  even dragging himself back to his feet proved a challenge for struggling lungs. 

        a breathy chuckle escaped him once more as he stood back to his own height, this time somewhat cynical; not expecting the sneer he received, but rather, having hoped for quite the opposite reaction.    ❛ creator’s sakes, mate. you tryin’ to hang me ? ❜    hands dusted off his pants, brushed away snow that had drifted over to catch on his coat,  &  he kicked at the small pile of it on the floor; already melting. 

        ❛ ya’know, ❜    he then began again, SARCASM tipping every word,    ❛ m’startin’ to think to don’t know how to laugh——-or even smile, for that matter. do you ? ❜ 

Kaasamir watched the other young man ( young by his standards ) pull himself back up to his feet. Making not attempt to help him no matter the obvious trouble he had in doing so. He wasn’t a level man when tested endlessly. That much was obvious. When would Vic learn that the way to the Witcher’s heart was methods NOT involving snow and embarrassing him in front of the people in Skyhold? He dealt with it ENOUGH back where he came from in the North. He didn’t need it here as well.

“You’d KNOW if I was.” An vague and unbecoming reply. One that he doesn’t see need to add too. Leave the rest to the other’s imagination. Vic certainly had one enough to think up these childish pranks day after day. Arms crossed defensively over his chest. Cat like hues nothing more then a THIN line of black against gold in that moment. Glaring at the mischievous rogue.

“No man can find any joy when they are being pelted with SNOW and TEASED daily,” he growled, lip curing in distaste, “I will smile again when I dig my toes in boiling sand and I’m away from these frigid climates.”

[haaklandian]

My mom at my aunt: you look good!

My aunt: thanks I left my husband

[arsuf]

Assassin’s Creed: Origins + Gifs [10/?]

[haaklandian]

a wild yen ! || @kurkowna​ : "Tell me something that will have me stay."

“What could I tell you that I have not yet said, Yennefer?” He’s all but poured his heart and soul out to the sorceress time and time again. Every corner of his mind, every secret, every scar— what more could he give if not his very CONTROL. He doesn’t voice his hurt, yet it’s evident in the way that look in his eye shifts. That faint furrow of his brow. The way his teeth gently chew at his lips with concern.

Need he say the VERY WORDS themselves? Never leave me, stay right where you are in my arms? Rough hands took hold of her own. Small and white as snow in his palms. They were lifted to his lips where kisses would linger on each of her knuckles before his head bowed. Pressing her knuckles to his brow. Eyes falling close briefly. Allowing a silence to settle between them. Only the breeze and faint chatter of Ofiri browsing the city beyond to be heard.

The very idea of waking one day to not find her beside him felt like his chest would have a EMPTY HOLE burnt through it. The Witcher simply could bare the thought for to long. But that never meant his mind was FREE from the possibility. Yennefer was a free woman and one of unpredictable nature. That’s two of the many things he ADORED about her. Yet feared as well. Sights lifted back to her violet gaze. A hand reaching out to caress chilled cheek. Kaasamir leaned in to catch her lips in a sweet kiss. One that lasts. That’ll leave them tasting the other after before he broke away.

“Stay.” It’s a desperate demand. “Just stay with me. I would do ANYTHING... if it meant I did not have to loose you.”

[coldofflesh]

     i will FIGHT until my last breath, and you better pray i stay down.

[haaklandian]

2am and my mom n aunt are making ghosts sounds at each other across the room

[haaklandian]

fadelilted‌:

     “ depends on who you ask– certainly not as honeyed as most bards. ” his response is second nature, and yet mahanon gives a smile to match kaasamir’s own; he couldn’t deny enjoying such acts, such performances.

       “ once, when i was young, and full of romantic ideas– running off to be a performer, finding love, all that sort. ”

“Ah, well, sometimes bards are simply too honeyed for my liking.” In other words, he was quite fond of the other’s performance. Cat like eyes hold his smile as lips fall to a mere grin. He hummed in thought, “Those are rather romantic ideas. Yet, not impossible. Dare you not think of them as SILLY.”

“I really cannot recall a time I ever had my own in my youth. Others ideas were drilled into me when I was younger.” He paused, as gloomy as the statement was, his tone does not shift, “But, I’ve been finding myself wandering my thoughts in recent years. The situations and concepts growing wilder and wilder.”