Tumgik
#magical!Geralt
caffieneaddictt18 · 3 months
Text
Of Hearts and Swords
Premise: Reader drives Geralt crazy. Good crazy. He is drunk on the love they share and is completely and utterly infatuated with her. He would do anything for her. The moment she asks him for anything, to getting bread from the market to killing a man, he will do it for her. Anything for his she-wolf.
Playlist is by harleycao here on Tumblr
Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4F3ldBxx0Da1SPlcmgu61H?si=9zbz8tnlQYaLXZWb8IWbLg
As you, Geralt, Jaskier and Ciri make your way to the next town, you start to notice Ciri growing tired and falling behind.
"Ciri!" You stop and beckon the girl over. Ciri stops and looks at you before running to you and your stallion, Orpheus, a gift from Geralt.
"Is something wrong?" Ciri looks concerned. Her hand rests on the hilt of her sword and a stony look starts to set into her eyes.
"Nope. Just figured you would want to ride Orpheus," You say and slide down for Ciri to mount him, "so hop on." You try to help Ciri get onto the saddle but fail, as she is now a strong young lady.
You turn to Geralt, who you see is also stopped and staring at you, making sure you are okay. "Geralt, dear, will you please help Ciri into the saddle?" You politely ask your husband.
Geralt, as though he had already heard your question before you said it, got off of Roach and quickly got to you, gently laying his hand on your hip. "Of course, darling."
Geralt, as a Witcher, does not take much effort to do anything except kill monsters, so lifting Ciri is like holding a couple of grapes.
However, he knows you... He knows you watch him. He knows you like to admire your husband... And he will gladly appease. So, even if Ciri feels as light as a feather, he flexes his arms while lifting her and making it look effortless.
As he situates Ciri on the saddle, he glances at you to see you watching him in rapture with a flush on your cheeks. He smirks while finishing strapping her into saddle.
Once he is done, he gives you a look of burning passion and struts toward you before scooping you up in a tight hold before sitting you on Roach. "Are you stable?"
You reach out and place a gentle hand on his cheek, "I am very stable, my darling. Thank you."
Geralt takes your hand and gently kisses it, before taking Roach's reins and leading the way to the nearest town. ______________________________________________________________
As Geralt leads the group into the market, with you perched on his horse, he can't help but think of a time where you two met. It seemed to happen not so long ago...
Geralt was hired as a king's escort for a war. Another stupid war... but it's good money.
Not nearly good enough for some of the shit he does for these bastards but good enough..
"Geralt!" A king beckons the man with white hair over. Geralt trudges over. "Our war advisor will be coming today to assist. If you have any questions or need anything, she is the one to ask." The old king claps Geralt on his shoulder.
She? Who could this 'she' be? He has never heard of a woman war advisor.
Then the clopping of hooves fell upon his ears. Geralt turns around, prepared for a fight, just to let his hand fall from his sword.
A woman was riding this horse. A horse of pure-blooded war and terror, but a soul of harmony and immenseness sits upon it.
A woman... bearing a symbol of a star encircled in a ring of metal, carrying two swords on her back and in a suit of armor seemingly not from this sphere. Her armor was a cloth, but it seemed to be threaded with a strong fiber-like metal.
As she approached, Geralt could see where else the encircled star was branded upon her, as if she owned the symbol. On her swords, the symbol was on the hilts. All her jewelry carried the symbol. It seemed to hang around her as much as she seemed to own it.
"Lord Lokinafir, I apologize for my tardiness. I was scoping out the lay of the land to get a better understanding of our situation." The woman dismounted from her horse and strode confidently towards the king. She bowed with a slight curtsy, resting her balance on the tips of her toes behind her.
"Of course, War Advisor. Would you like a map to draw out the lay of the land?" The king seemed to be eating out of her hand, even kissing her hand politely. He didn't even bother with the inappropriate flirting.
"No need, sire. I have something better." The woman smirked and waved her hand. A map of the land, complete with actual ridges and hills, spread out upon all of them. On each side of the map were the two armies, colored in red and white while the map was colored green.
"Soldiers!" Her voice seemed to boom and call attention to the mass of men, all with pent up testosterone and a thirst for blood, "Come!"
Her voice beckoned them to come surround the map and pay attention, even through the red haze of blood thirst. "This is the land we are fighting on. While we are at a slight disadvantage because of their size of army, we have the advantage of the land. That is all we need for a great offense. And the best offense comes with a greater defense." The map spun right in front of Geralt eyes and he faintly saw the symbol again on her palm and under the map before it faded to almost nothing. When he looked at it again, the land had changed. Their side was filled with rocks and had fallen at the opposing army's feet.
"While they stumble over themselves trying to climb out of the rocky terrain they will face, we come over our side of the hill and lie in wait with our swords pointed towards them..." The map changed again. The red soldiers had climbed over each other and finally over the rocks, while the white army laid in wait just at the middle to the bottom of the hill holding their spears towards the slope, "they run and with their momentum, impale themselves!" Suddenly, some of the reds started charging down the hill while the whites ran through the red soldiers with their spears, backed by other white soldiers to prevent themselves from falling and hurting anyone else.
"While they stall at the top of the hill, unsure of where to go, we volley them with catapults and mortars. Archers, this is where you are needed." People from the top of the hill the white soldiers have to climb over are catapults and mortars being fired off, killing most of the red soldiers. Archers back the mortar and catapults up, at least injuring the rest, causing a pitiful retreat from the red soldiers.
As she dissolves the map, Geralt knew...
He had to get to know you. ______________________________________________________________
You look back upon Jaskier, who mounted your horse once you also noticed him limping from blisters on the backs of his heels, and Ciri, hoping nothing has gone wrong. As far as you can tell, everything seems to be fine.
This immensely pleased you.
You looked upon your husband, dutifully scanning for any threat to your little family and leading the way.
"Geralt." You get the Witcher's attention as he still guides Roach and in turn guides Ciri, who is riding Orpheus. "Would you like to join me on Roach?"
"Do you want me there?" A deep, soft and gruff voice permeates the air and settles deep in your chest.
You take in a deep breath and nod, seeing a flash of yellow; knowing he is watching you. Your reaction. Your responses.
Geralt swiftly made his way to the saddle and mounted gracefully, with you still in the front, but now he has taken the reins.
On the ride to the town, Ciri asks Jaskier, "So... how did they meet?"
"Why are you asking me?" Jaskier questions Ciri. The girl is like a daughter to Geralt and Y/N. They'll tell her, anyways.
"You know everything about Geralt, don't you? You're the bard." Ciri accentuates, desperate for answers, tries to fluff Jaskier's feathers and get him to tell her.
Jaskier, feeling his ego grow, smirks and says, "You want to know how it goes? Fine." Her acts all perturbed at her poking but really is excited to tell a story.
"During a battle that no one has heard of, she showed up like a goddess riding on the wind. Geralt was immediately enraptured by her...
______________________________________________________________
"You're a mage." Geralt bluntly remarks, walking up the woman preparing her steed for battle.
She pauses. "Yes. And what of it?" The woman resumes brushing her horse.
"Well why not be safely in a castle? Tending to a king and being an advisor?" Geralt, not understanding the complexity of mages, asks.
"It wasn't for me. Besides, this is better money." The woman smiles and moves towards the head of her horse.
"You wouldn't need money if you were a mage for a king. What do you mean 'better money'?" Geralt is so confused. Why would she get paid? Are mages paid? Are some unpaid?
"I mean 'better money'. Mages do get paid, but it is typically a little amount because it is expected of them to live in the castle with the king and for the king to care for their mage, like a pet." The woman spat out the word 'pet' like it was sour.
"Ok... So if you didn't want to become a mage, why didn't you become a town healer? It's safer than this will ever be." Geralt rolls his eyes, not understanding this womans logic.
"Town's still get trampled over, plus as a mage, I could be chased out of town despite being there with all good intentions and purpose;" The woman looks longingly out at the soon-to-be battlefield, "War never goes out of style. After all..." Y/N looks dead into Geralt's yellow eyes, causing him to shiver, "everybody wants to rule the world."
______________________________________________________________
...and that day, she won the battle. Her horse died as a result, but Geralt offered for her to travel with him. He used the excuse of strategy, but he really just had developing feelings for her and didn't know how to express them. A few months later, Geralt had saved enough money from constantly killing monsters and bought her Orpheus. They kind of became a couple over time, and without notice. She has Geralt wrapped around her finger, and he would do anything for her." Jaskier finished his story, just glad he remembered the important bits.
"That's it?!" Ciri almost shouted. Jaskier was quick to shush her.
"Ciri, dear, are you okay?" Ciri could hear Y/N call from Roach. Geralt was glancing over his shoulder at the two, like he knew something was going on.
Jaskier gave Ciri a look before taking his hand away from her mouth, but not before she licked his hand, causing the bard to cringe at the ickiness. Geralt smirked at the scene.
"Just fine, Y/N! Jaskier is just telling me stories about you and Geralt." Ciri elbows the bard. 'Well played, kid.' Jaskier gives Ciri's under-the-bus throw a thought before smiling and agreeing.
"Which stories? We have lots~" Y/N's smirk can be heard from her voice.
"Just on how you two met. But I'm pretty sure he butchered it a bit, so can we trade, and you can tell me stories about you and Geralt?" Ciri smirks, looking at Jaskier. She knows Geralt would never let Jaskier even touch Roach.
"Are you okay with that, Darling?" Y/n leans into Geralt's firm chest, a feeling he secretly loves and will never tell anyone.
It is, however, apparent, as there was one time Jaskier tried to do a dance thing and fell into Geralt as to which the Witcher promptly stood the man on his feet.
A woman on the street once shoved Y/N out of the way to get to Geralt, and 'tripped', subsequently leading to her falling onto Geralt's chest. He swiftly moved to catch Y/N while pushing the woman away. Geralt didn't let Y/N walk anymore that day. Said that 'the hazard of tripping was too high'. Really, he just wanted to feel her against him.
Geralt looks at her and nods, knowing full well that he won't let Jaskier get on Roach. "Do it quick. We are losing daylight." Geralt said as he slows and pulls Roach to a stop.
Geralt hops off first and assists Y/N, helping her get off Roach and on Orpheus. Jaskier was quick to jump off Orpheus to avoid accidentally getting pushed off by Y/N.
As Y/N settled into Orpheus, Geralt strapped her in to make sure she fall off. Once he was content with it, he looked at her. "Thank you, my Darling." Y/N puts a soft hand to his face and gently thumbs his cheek.
Geralt smiles softly before heading back to Roach and giving Jaskier a glare when the bard tries to mount Roach. Jaskier purses his lips and backs off, submitting to his fate of walking.
"Can you tell me the story of how you and Geralt met?" Ciri, eyes shining in anticipation of heroic stories and funny tales of her father figure.
"Well, honey-girl, once upon a time..." Y/N's voice fades into the distance, away from the ears of squirrels and birds. Where the trees part and give way to civilization. "Seems we were closer than we thought." Y/N shrugs and gets off Orpheus, leading the stallion to the closest inn. "Maybe another time, dear." Y/N helps Ciri down and kisses her head softly before following Geralt into the inn for three rooms.
______________________________________________________________
Author's Cup of Tea:
So... tell me what y'all think. Even if you think it's bad, tell me what you did or didn't like. But for every bad there must be a good. please.my fragile heart cant handle it.
Have a great night/day!
139 notes · View notes
spielzeugkaiser · 1 year
Note
Someone beat me to OnlyFans, so you can ignore that prompt lol. How about a throwback to fae!Jaskier? Maybe give him a holly crown?
Tumblr media
An oldie but goldie! They are married in that 'verse, soooo... Accidental proposing through magic and flowers? Yesss
820 notes · View notes
katrinsupernova · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
Grain of Truth, The Witcher
Illustrations for The Witcher, the Last wish
324 notes · View notes
Text
no more keeping jaskier in the same outfit all season. let him mysteriously turn up in a new outfit that he should Not have and geralt be like "where the Fuck did you get that?!" and there's just a flash back to jaskier nicking a shirt off a washing line
2K notes · View notes
flowercrown-bard · 1 year
Text
Geralt stared at the nervously chattering guy, unblinking. 
He was an idiot. 
A brightly dressed idiot who had driven to the wild life rescue centre in the middle of the night, close to tears because he had found an injured animal on his way to a party. 
"Can you save him?"
"Her," Geralt said automatically and took the small fluttering thing from the man. Oh, hadn't he mentioned? The guy was an idiot, who had stopped his car to help an endangered and dangerous species. 
The guy was an idiot. 
Geralt already felt his heart fluttering like the griffin's wings. 
868 notes · View notes
thedemonofcat · 1 year
Text
A rare magical ability that Jaskier has (probably associated with his singing). But Jaskier is the last person to realize that he has such a talent. The perception that Jaskier has been conditioned to have from a very young age has been that he is nothing special.
Slowly, others realize that the magical thing they've seen is because of Jaskier, and when they try to explain it to him, he thinks they're jokes.
Geralt learns about Jaskier's magical ability after some time has passed after the events of the deathless mother have taken place. As he tries to explain, Jaskier believes Geralt is just making fun of him so the others (who Jaskier believes are the special ones) can have a laugh at Jaskier's expense.
430 notes · View notes
whumpypepsigal · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Witcher s03e08: “There are some wounds magic can’t heal.”
185 notes · View notes
darknessblackness · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Geralt of Rivia (by Roz Bessel)
1K notes · View notes
lakka-arts · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
a warm-up shitpost bc i hadnt been posting abt my magic dandy au for a bit-
276 notes · View notes
joelchaimholtzman · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
A painting I was commissioned to make a few years ago for a client. It was quiet fun to play with the dark fantasy elements to the armor, something that I hope to do again in the future.
Hope you like it!
Best,
JCH
88 notes · View notes
caffieneaddictt18 · 8 months
Text
Life, Death, and Destiny
Prompt: Witch!Reader keeps giving Geralt weird little trinkets and crystal necklaces saying that this one protects you and this one keeps the bad feelings away and this one will call good spirits and wisdom upon him, and he doesn't believe her until one time he's fighting this monster and somehow, he keeps dodging this monster perfectly without even needing to drink his elixir. He kills the beast, and goes back to Witch!Reader, demanding her to explain how this works when he knows for a fact, she doesn't have magic like a mage or a druid. She simply winks and leaves him curious, so he stays with her and figures out how she is somehow unintentionally magical.
I'm not gonna lie, I did not stick to this prompt. It went a little sideways and flopped. So, my apologies! It is not false advertising, I swear.
As Geralt was walking to Roach, his mare, he heard his name called... It was faint but grew louder as the person shouting his name got closer.
"Geralt!"
Geralt rolled his eyes, thinking it was another townsfolk wanting him to go kill something.
"Geralt, wait!"
But then he recognized that voice...
"Geralt! Would you stop for a minute?"
He stopped. The Witcher slowly turned around and saw y/n. They were panting, keeled over.
"Before you leave, take this." They reach out and in their hand is a little charm that can be added to the strap of leather that keeps his hair up. "It's for battle wisdom. Knowing you, you'll need it. I hope it keeps you safe on your travels." Y/n stands up, and composes themselves.
"Well, I can see you are wandering towards Roach... where will you go next?"
Geralt took the charm slowly. He didn't trust anything magical. Especially when it came from someone that he had never heard was magical beforehand. Nevertheless, he took the charm and clamped it around the leather holding his hair back.
"There was a monster sighting near Waterwood. The locals regularly use the water for business, so they need me to come clear out whatever monster lies in the river." He gruffly divulged the details of his departure.
"Well... if you ever wish to come back, you know where I am." Y/n skipped off down the stone path to the cottage that sat on the edge of the wood, surrounded in wildflowers and other magical plants.
Geralt grunted before stalking back to Roach, mounting her, and taking off into the night.
______________________________________________________________
Y/N woke to a banging on the wooden front door. The type of banging on hollow wood that gave you chills. Especially after being chased from town for giving Geralt a charm. This specific town doesn't necessarily take too kindly to witches and magic.
The banging lessened to a knock. Y/N quickly extinguishes all the candles before slowly opening the door and hiding in the nook between the wall and the door. Waiting for anyone...
someone...
The person walks in slowly, sword in hand, and eyes seemingly glowing in the dark. The stock build of his shoulder balancing out the slender legs of pure muscle. His footsteps silent, but hers are gone.
Y/N makes no noise as they scampers across the floor of grass and behind a chair. A chair made of engraved wood and hide from a monster, if you can believe it. Absolutely beautiful.
Y/N gently whistled a tune... a tune used when Geralt and them went on a small stroll through the woods. Y/N insisted that it would help Geralt ground himself before the hunt he was about to embark on.
Immediately, he stopped and put the sword away before casting Igni on a candle near him. He carried it to the chair and saw a head of hair peeking out from behind the arm of it. "Y/N?"
"Geralt!" Y/N stands from the crouched position on the ground and goes around to hug Geralt. He accepts it before lighting the fireplace filled with charcoal and adding new wood to keep the old burning.
"Why did you hide? Monsters don't knock. Mages don't bother people in their homes anymore." Geralt was ticking things off a list that might make them be wary of anything.
"Were you... were you scared of me?"
Y/N, who was first scared that Geralt might go on a rage like the one in Blaviken, was now flustered. "Oh no! Oh goodness, no!"
"So why were you skittering around like a mouse, trying to find warmth?"
"I... I was chased out of town..." Y/N can see Geralt tensing, becoming physically angry, "Don't worry about it though! It allows me to become one with nature. I forage all my food now and the butcher is kind, giving slices of meat no one else would want. I have deepened my relationship with magic and peace. I am happy. Don't worry about me."
Geralt was trying to slow his breathing and be rational, staring into the fire. How could they do this to you? You had done nothing but help them, and they turned on you. You had provided them with medicines that don't poison and trinkets that you can only find in the forest.
"Why?"
A simple question that held so much power. The power to anger or calm. The power to cause action or stop it. The power of chaos or peace.
And so, Y/N chose peace.
"I assume they finally decided they didn't like me anymore," Y/N smiled.
"That's a lie. You provided them with medicine. Small villages don't just abandon their healers." Geralt moved, gently pinning Y/N to the monster-leather seat.
"So tell me... why did they do it?"
Y/N looked into his eyes, marveling at how their reflected the flames to look like pools of lava themselves. Y/N knew that their response was too late when he furrowed his brow. Y/N looked down.
"They... they saw me give you that charm..." Geralt quickly got up and leaned against the stone mantle that looked like it had been there forever, made by Gaia herself. A sanctuary for the weak, weary and, what others would call, weird.
"They don't take kindly to magic folk around here, Geralt. It's why I have placed wards around the cottage."
Geralt was surprised. An actual ward? He knew that you liked to do everything yourself, if you could. Wards required mages and you were not a mage.
"A ward?" You nodded, "And who did these wards?"
"I did!"
To him, you sound childish. A person with no real magic was somehow placing wards around their home...
But somehow, the house seems untouched by the outside world. The hurtful one of torches and pitchforks.
"Alright... well, I have a monster hunt nearby. I'll stay here. Just for some extra protection." Geralt announced. There was no turning back or denying him this.
______________________________________________________________
As Geralt was walking out of the cottage that was surprisingly not attacked by townspeople the entire time he was there, Y/N called to him.
"Is something wrong?"
"Nope!" Y/N holds out a small necklace with a complicated charm strung onto it. "Just wanted to give you this."
Geralt gently took it into his hands. "And what does this one do?"
"It's a protection necklace. I know you will inevitably find danger, so this should help keep you on your toes and safe for your also inevitable return," Y/N proudly announces to Geralt as he kept a straight face. He had no real belief this would do anything for him, but he put it into a pouch near his chest.
"Alright. Stay safe, Y/N"
"You as well, Geralt. Blessed be, my friend."
______________________________________________________________
Geralt rode upon the cottage that had a plume of smoke exiting the stone chimney and candlelight coming from the kitchen. It was an exhausting monster hunt and all he wanted to do was rest.
Once he had tied Roach to the small stables that Y/N kept up, he walked to the home. Before Geralt could knock, the door swung open.
"Geralt!" was all that was said before a flurry of greens and browns flooded his sight. He was encompassed with the warmth only you could provide. A hug... something he hasn't felt in a while.
You slide off of him and out of his arms. "How are you, my friend? Why don't you come in?" Y/N opens the door for him to enter and beckon the large man inside your cozy home.
The smell of rosemary and chicken flood his nose. The warm glow of the fire in the living room flickered across the walls and seeped into every crack, spreading the softness that Y/N carried. Geralt walked slowly into the home and sat down on one of the chairs you have. It was soft, like from a castle, but not quite as tall or luxurious looking. He wondered where you got it from.
Over the fire, a soup of chicken, carrots, potatoes, and herbs brewed in a cauldron that seemed to magically hang from the ceiling, even though it was directly under the chimney stack.
"So... how are you, my friend?" Y/N's gentle voice entered Geralt's mind. It's like you were allowing him space to take in the home as he wishes instead of flooding his senses with everything all at once. A nice change of pace of the monster hunter, the White Wolf.
"I am... good. I was surprisingly not hurt on my last hunt. This striga seemed... slower than normal, though..." Geralt contemplated on his latest hunt, mulling it over in his mind, "Must not have been at full strength."
"Would you like some mead?" You offer the Witcher some of your honey wine. A delicacy was not often seen in common households, but you have never been part of the common folk. Plus, you tended to a honey bee hive in a tree near the cottage.
"Why not?" Geralt takes the mug of mead from you as you walk to the cauldron where your stew was done cooking. You ladle the chicken soup into wooden bowls you once bought from a traveling merchant and add a slice of bread to it. It had not been the first time you opened up your home to the infamous White Wolf... and it certainly won't be the last.
"Well, eat up. You are welcome to stay as long as you like." You offer a safe night's sleep before finishing your bowl of soup and putting the bowl in a basket of other dirty plates and bowls. You take the cauldron of soup and take it outside, where you can feed the hungry children of the village. The only people who dare to come near...
Before you can lug the pot of wonderful healing stew outside, Geralt notices. "What are you doing?"
You stop, setting the cauldron on the floor for a rest. "Well... the children of the village have not been eating as much and I feel bad... their parents cast me out, not them. Why should they have to suffer for a choice they had no choice in?" Y/N looks at Geralt in confusion before shaking their head and picking up the cauldron again.
Geralt stands and before you can walk with the heavy pot, he takes it from you. "If they catch ypou doing this... you could be killed."
"I would rather die doing something good than nothing at all." You skip happily besides Geralt as he carries the pot with way less effort than you have to.
As you approach your normal spot to feed the children, you can see the dozens of eyes that hide in the woods. They are scared...
"You have nothing to fear, children. The Witcher will never hurt you."
First, nothing happens, but after a minute, a thin girl walks to you. You kneel, handing her a bowl of the chicken stock. You know this one. This girl has been sick since she came from the womb of her mother, who died during childbirth.
A boy, a bit stockier than he was a month ago, came up to you, slightly avoiding the Witcher's gaze as he also grabbed a bowl from you and started drinking the contents of the soup. You gave him bits of chicken and vegetables, knowing that he won't be full unless the boy has them. He has grown since you first saw him.
One by one, the children gained confidence in you and lost their fear in the monster hunter who was leaning on a tree behind you.
Eventually, you ran out of mouths to feed and food to give, so you grabbed the bowls the children used, put them in the cauldron, and walked home with the pot in hand.
"Well, Geralt, what brings you around this time?"
"Just a reprieve. I needed some... how do you say it... grounding."
You drop the cauldron by the door & clap, "Perfect! I'm going to the well now to grab water. It is chore day. What would you prefer to do?"
As Geralt looked around, he noticed the various plants that were hanging in your window and drying in the sun. And then he noticed the weeds that had begun to grow in your garden.
"Let me grab the water and prepare the pot for another meal," Geralt wanted to take the heaviest thing off you. It would not be too hot weeding the garden considering the time and season.
"I can weed the garden and wash the bowls & cutlery. Fantastic! Make sure to rub the inside of the pot with tallow before hanging it up to dry."
Geralt grunts and walks to the well, buckets in hand.
This is going to be the longest day in a while...
______________________________________________________________
You prep Roach before Geralt is scheduled to take off into the horizon once more.
As you finish getting the saddle tied down, you look around for any peering eyes. Not finding any, you pull out a Rune for speed and chant a small & simple spell before tying said rune to the inside of the saddlebag.
You hurriedly make yourself seem busy by packing his saddlebag with all the necessities, including a jug for water and a fresh loaf of sourdough bread wrapped in some parchment that you covered in beeswax.
Geralt exits the cottage, strapping the last bit of armor down to himself, walking towards you and Roach. Before he can reach you, you walk to Roach's front and say a quick prayer and chant for speed and health. That they may get to wherever they must be, right when they must be there and not a moment too late.
As Geralt approaches, you give him one last hug. And a warning...
"Save the apple bread for when you need it most."
Geralt, understandably confused, watches as you skip towards your cozy home. Before you make it even halfway, the White Wolf shakes his head as a method of clearing it before mounting Roach and taking off into the distance.
______________________________________________________________
You are calmly knitting while waiting for the loaf of bread in the fire to cook when a banging erupts from your door. You are immediately apprehensive, as banging is not usually a good sign anymore.
Before you were chased out of the town banging meant someone was hurt. Also not good, but treatable.
Banging now... that's nothing good.
"Open your door or I will kick it down!" Geralt's gruff voice was muffled by the door, but you could tell he was yelling.
You hurriedly put down your knitting project and let Geralt in. He walks in and turns rather smoothly however quick, effectively shutting the door and trapping you between him and the thick wood the door offered.
"What are you? Are you a sorceress?!" Geralt questioned you with intense yellow eyes. The type of eyes he saved for people who have used him and lied to him.
"No, Geralt... I am not a sorceress. Why do you ask?" You gently take one of his arms down from its tense position leaning against the door to massage his hand in between your fingers. You gently guide him to a chair and sit him down before asking once more...
"What has made you think that I am a sorceress, Geralt?"
He grunts and looks into the dancing flames of the fire that licked the stone and left black soot marks.
"I was faster, stronger... more insightful... Roach rode like the wind and we got exactly where we needed to be just in time, even early. This didn't start happening until you started giving me things. And don't think I didn't notice the rune in my saddlebag. You may be a witch, but you are no sneak. So, what are you?"
A pregnant pause filled the space and time had eaten away at it.
You needed to tell him eventually. Now was as good a time as ever.
"I... You're right. I am a witch. But I am not a sorceress or a mage! I do not dabble in chaos. I am an omnist. I believe in the existence of every god. I also bend and use energy at my will. The thing people call 'Destiny' can be written, but then erased & rewritten. That's what I do. A 'narrow miss' suddenly becomes an 'easy dodge.' I take Destiny... and I manipulate her for my desired outcome. And if my desired outcome just so happens to be a few kids fed and the Savior of the people of the Continent, so be it."
It felt as though the energy had moved from this feeling where something was violently poking and stabbing to try and get out, to absolute stillness.
An eerie calm after a storm.
The sort of calm you feel right before a bomb goes off...
Except...
No bomb went off.
No storm flooded the room.
Geralt could only feel awe.
Not at just your power but how you chose to wield it.
You had the power of Destiny at your disposal, and you chose to help a few kids whose parents banished you from their town.
You had the power of Destiny... eating out of your hands... and you chose to help him...
The last time he felt this... loved... was Yennefer. But even Yennefer's love wasn't baselining love. She was lust. A poor foundation of love.
What is Geralt even thinking?! Love? He couldn't love. No... His path was a lonely, treacherous one.
But it was one many others have joined him on...
Maybe it wasn't as bad as he is thinking...
Maybe...
Just maybe....
A little bit of love is okay.
The White Wolf doesn't howl his praises or paw for attention. All he does is kneel.
Kneel in front of the most powerful, lovely, deadly person he has ever known... and hold them.
"Thank you... for protecting me..."
"Anytime, Geralt."
______________________________________________________________
Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. If you have any requests, please feel free to ask me. Also, I know I made this one non-binary after editing, and I know what I said before I posted anything. Have a great night! Bye!
188 notes · View notes
xejune · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
final brush test, sketch of @lakka-arts' magic!dandelion AU <3
bonus:
Tumblr media
278 notes · View notes
Text
Prompt #3
Geralt is the spirit of winter. He brings death and sickness wherever he goes. He understands when the people in towns shun him and cower in fear rather than greeting such a powerful being. He's just kind of... Grown used to the hatred. The fear. Humans don't like him. He is nothing but death. A killer. It's near the end of his time, this year. The seasons will change and he can stop tormenting the poor humans. He doesn't like his job, but it's the only job he can do. The world needs winter. Just like how the world needs spring. But spring just... Isn't coming. Where is the spring spirit? Thus the spirit of winter goes on a journey atop his trusted mare to find the lost spirit of spring, only to come across him captured by idiotic humans and on the edge of life. Winter defeats the villains and brings the spirit of spring back to his own home to watch over him as he heals. When the spirit of spring, Jaskier, comes to, Geralt finds it hard to dislike him. No wonder the humans love spring so much. It's bringer sings nearly all words and soothes with every move he makes. Geralt is sure the spirit of spring could never even grow to like him, let alone love him. This becomes a problem, because Geralt is growing head over heels with Spring's Spirit as he hosts his convalescence.
♡!Optional addons!♡ • Jaskier has always looked up to the spirit of winter, and has just been afraid to introduce himself (perhaps even already having made songs about him)
• Maybe instead of just normal humans, perhaps Jaskier was kidnapped by mages
• Perhaps we could also meet the spirits of autumn and summer. Eskel and Lambert? Yen and Ciri? Triss?
• Geralt is afraid to touch Jaskier in fear of making his flowers and goodness and warmth die (Jaskier wants nothing more than for Geralt to touch him)
45 notes · View notes
cafe-viennois · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I’m back on tumblr after a loooong time!
I’m going to post stuff I already posted on my other platforms (instagram and twitter)
First one is my take on Yennefer of Vengerberg!
447 notes · View notes
munroemagic · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
36 notes · View notes
aifanfictions · 7 months
Note
write a story about Geralt of Rivia falling in love with a witch friend of Yennefer's who is (y/n) who saves Geralt from a striga
Tumblr media
The Witch and the Striga
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale silver glow upon the desolate castle ruins. Geralt of Rivia stood at the edge of the forest, his silver hair glinting like a beacon in the darkness. He had been tracking the rumors of a striga terrorizing the nearby villages for weeks. The Witcher had faced many monstrous foes, but this was different. This was personal.
Geralt's path was set. He would face the striga and lift the curse that bound the cursed princess to her monstrous form. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. There was something he couldn't quite put his finger on—a premonition, a whisper of destiny.
As he approached the castle, Geralt felt the weight of centuries press upon his shoulders. The legends spoke of a tragic tale—a princess cursed by a wicked sorcerer, condemned to transform into a striga every full moon. It was said that only the kiss of true love could break the curse, but such tales were often just that—tales.
Within the castle's dilapidated halls, Geralt faced the striga. Its monstrous form, all claws and fangs, lunged at him. The battle was fierce, each strike a testament to Geralt's unmatched skill. Yet, as he clashed with the beast, he couldn't help but think of the tragedy that had brought them to this moment.
The striga's eyes, once filled with anger and torment, now held a glimmer of sadness. It was as if a sliver of humanity remained within her monstrous shell. Geralt couldn't ignore the feeling that there was more to this curse than met the eye.
With one final, desperate blow, Geralt managed to incapacitate the striga. It lay before him, vulnerable and defeated. But instead of delivering the killing blow, he hesitated. He saw something in the creature—a flicker of vulnerability, a yearning for release.
Geralt knelt beside the striga and whispered words of compassion. He offered the creature his hand, a gesture of understanding. Slowly, tentatively, the striga reached out and touched his hand. The moment their skin made contact, something incredible happened.
A surge of energy coursed through Geralt's body, and he felt a profound connection with the striga. It was as if he could see into her soul, and she into his. In that fleeting moment, he saw the truth—the sorcerer's curse had been a cruel punishment, a betrayal of love, not an act of malice.
As the curse began to break, the striga's monstrous form transformed back into that of a young woman—a woman with striking ebony hair and eyes that held the depth of an ocean. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but her expression was one of gratitude and relief.
Geralt helped her to her feet, his heart pounding with a mix of emotions he couldn't fully comprehend. He had expected a battle, a victory, and the lifting of a curse. He hadn't expected to find himself connected to the very creature he had come to defeat.
The woman introduced herself as (Y/N), a witch and a friend of Yennefer's. She had been trapped in the curse for centuries, her true love's kiss stolen from her by the sorcerer's betrayal. She had fought the curse, yearning for release, and in Geralt, she had found an unexpected savior.
As they stood in the moonlit castle ruins, Geralt and (Y/N) realized that their destinies were intertwined. Their connection ran deeper than mere circumstance—it was a bond forged in the crucible of fate. Love had broken the curse, but it had also ignited a spark between them that neither could deny.
The night that had begun with a battle against a striga ended with a promise—a promise of a future where two souls, bound by destiny, would face the trials and tribulations of a world filled with magic, monsters, and love.
And so, Geralt of Rivia and (Y/N) embarked on a new chapter of their lives, their hearts entwined in a love that had defied curses and transcended time. Their journey was just beginning, and they faced it with the unwavering belief that destiny had something extraordinary in store for them.
NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI
79 notes · View notes