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||The Witcher tarot | The Lovers | Yennefer and Geralt||

[Other cards of the Witcher tarot can be found here and on my Instagram art account]

[DO NOT REPOST OR REUSE WITHOUT LEGAL AND EXPLICIT AUTHORIZATION]

Compared to other cards, I had 0 hesitation on this one. I mean it HAD TO BE our favorite couple of the Continent. And at first I was like ‘Oh great, let’s give those babies some light, cute stuff and a fluff scene, they deserve it’ and then BAM one of the most heartbreaking scenes of the books appeared in my mind and I knew I just had to draw this (if you know, you know. Riv’s pogroms chapter broke my heart). And the apple tree blossoms petals detail is a direct reference to the sort of Heaven they go to after their death, referred to as the ‘place where the apple trees always bloom’. Not gonna lie, I broke my own heart a little. 

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SWORD WIFE SWORD WIFE SWORD WIFE

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Fingers on Ivory | Jaskier x Priscilla One-Shot

Inspired by the following picture by the incredible @marietta-kerdzevadze (see her Instagram >here< for more of her amazing work!). Thank you so much for giving me permission to write a piece based on your stunning art!

Warnings: Witcher 3 spoilers! Mentions of violence, PTSD, depression, angst. But don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of fluff too!

Tiny patters on the window panes, and glimmers of sunshine just barely peeking through the clouds. It was those days that Priscilla dreaded most. Once upon a time she could have stared out the glass, hearing the thrum of the cabaret below, and compose some heart-wrenching rendition to woo the crowds in a few nights time. But ever since..

Ever since..

Sigh.

Ever since that night, the rain on the windows sounded like claws. The sun felt taunting, a glaring reminder of the bright eyes that watched her squeal and cry. The beats and cheers from below felt like her screams that could never quite leave her throat during that ordeal.. Nor would again, not in the same way.

Even her beloved, who patiently sat with her day after day, never pushing, always kind and smiling, or offering up tale after tale of his adventures with Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri, or even Regis and Annarietta (though the latter remained somewhat a sore subject), could not seem to break her from her state of ever gazing. The fear crinkling up in the corner of her eyes with every sleepless night and restless nightmares.

In the end, of all people, it was Zoltan who offered Jaskier the icebreaker.

“The lass needs to feel whole again, dun’nae take it personal. She misses her music.”

It was like a jolt of lightning coursed through him then. Of course! His darling Priscilla, prized for her voice of wonder and alluring tales, the great Calonetta.. Her voice dry, cracked and stolen.. She needed to find her muse again!

Not the lute, no, that was personal to she and he, the strums of chords mixed with notes of lyrics, it would remind her too much of what she was still seeking to recover. No, something new, to her and not to him.

Two nights later, and after a series of frustrated groans, huffs, and enough curses in Elder to make an elf blush, Jaskier’s triumph was echoed with a definitive: “Aha!”

Not ten minutes later did Priscilla wander in, her once bouncy and well styled locks hanging limply around her head, like sodden straw. Timid, dark circles eyes widening with curiousity, a light not seen since that night..

The piano, his victory, Jaskier sat at the overly large stool, and a second cushion beside him, just for her. It took a moment, that felt like a lifetime, before he felt the bench shift and the heat of her body reach out from beside him, tickling his bare forearms like a warm breeze. He took two, three deep breaths, barely daring to look at her, else he might tempt fate. But she didn’t move. Not a muscle.

Gently smiling, he rolled down his sleeves and pressed his fingertips on the ivory keys, playing a simple but cheerful tune, one note at a time. Over and over he played, tap tap tap.. Pling pling pling. They sat there for almost an hour, her azure eyes patiently watching the pattern, her muttered breaths just about reaching his ears as she counted the rhythm out. For the first time in weeks, he began to see that shine come back to her, ever so slightly.

Just as he thought to call it enough for the night, he rose up, and as he turned to the door, he heard it.

Pling. Pling. Pling.

Spinning on his heels, midnight gaze wide with wonder, he saw his Cilla. Not the shadow of herself as she had been, but the woman he fell in love with oh so long ago. Gently padding towards her, as she bit at her lower lip and tried to recall the notes in the correct order, he gently placed his hands over hers, guiding her ever so lightly to the right keys. Soft pressure atop her fingers with his own, his breath in her ear as he hummed the tune out as they played.

Even as she began to grasp the tune, he kept his hands atop hers, fighting the urge to intertwine their fingers. And with her mind fixed on her craft, as it would be on those usual rainy days, once upon a time, she felt the brush of a chaste kiss on the crown of her head, causing to her to release a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

She couldn’t bring herself to smile, not just yet.. But the unspoken love was there, in that moment, they knew.

And, for the first time in weeks, Priscilla slept soundly that night, tightly wrapped in Jaskier’s embrace.

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YENNEFER OF VENGERBERG & CIRI OF CINTRA The Witcher: Season 3 Volume II

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Pride

Winter was finally arriving at Kaer Morhen. The nights were getting colder and it wouldn’t be long until the path was fully covered. 

The fire crackled in the hearth in the center of their chamber, setting the room in a light glow. Wind whistled through the cracks of the old witcher fortress. 

Geralt held Yennefer close, their legs intertwined and the sheets disarrayed. He nuzzled her neck, taking in her intoxicating scent. He rested a hand on her flat stomach and kissed her shoulder.

“I love you, Yen,” he whispered to her.

Whimpers broke the peaceful silence and quickly became a piercing wail.

Yennefer stirred next to him, a light smile on her lips. “She’s awake.” 

“I got her,” Geralt said, “You go back to sleep.” He untangled his legs from hers as he could and leapt to his feet.

The cradle was on Yennefer’s side of the bed, further from the windows. The baby had managed to get her pudgy arms out of the swaddle. Her cheeks were red and her eyes filled with tears. As Geralt leaned over her, her arms flailed up towards him, begging to be held.

Geralt placed one hand under her head and the other under her back just as the midwife had shown him and lifted her to his chest. Her flailing ceased and her cries quieted to whimpers.

Beside him, Yennefer pulled the blanket back around her, her black hair spilling across the white sheets. He smiled at the sight of her. 

“Shh, little wolf,” he consoled, “Let your mother rest. Come on, let’s get some air.” The baby didn’t offer any disagreement. 

Geralt made his way out of their room as quietly as he could. The sky was clear and the full moonlight lit up the inner courtyard. Geralt pulled the blanket tighter and held her close.

Geralt paced along on the inner wall of the keep. The babe’s discontent cries dwindled and soon her breaths were even and calm with sleep.

“I thought I might find you out here.”

Geralt looked behind him to find Vesemir, arms crossed and eyes gentle as he leaned against a stone doorway.

Geralt grinned at the sight of him and nodded in greeting. “What are you doing up? I thought you planned to have an early start on the armory walls in the morning.”

Vesemir stood next to him and gave him a wistful look. “The armory can wait. I heard you walking around and thought I might come meet the newest pup.”

Geralt turned and angled his arms so that Vesemir could clearly see the sleeping babe’s face. She turned her face towards her father’s chest for warmth. A few wisps of her fine, snow white hair peaked out from the blanket. 

Vesemir pulled down the swaddling around her mouth to get a better look. “She’s a beautiful girl, Wolf. What did you name her?”

“Laurentia,” Geralt answered with pride. “Laurentia of Corvo Bianco.”

Vesemir nodded in approval. “Toussaintois meaning laurel plant, or, more figuratively, ‘place of victory and honor’. It’s a good name, a strong one. She’ll wear it well.”

Laurentia stirred and opened her eyes. She stared wide-eyed up at Vesemir. Her irises were a lovely violet color and her pupils were slit and cat-like.

“Hmm, eyes of a witcher,” said Vesemir thoughtfully. “She’ll need to be trained if she has the abilities of one.”

Geralt tensed at that. He looked over the courtyard where he spent thousands of hours training. He and his brothers were trained relentlessly and cruelly from the moment they arrived at Kaer Morhen to the moment they proved they can survive well enough to go out on The Path. Then even after all that, some still didn’t make it back for the next winter.

That was the courtyard that held pyres for the boys that didn’t survive to see the Path. The courtyard where bones were broken for the slightest mistake, whippings and beating dealt out for failure, and even death when a spar or punishment went too far.

Past the walls were the lake where some of the youngest drowned getting tossed in too deep of water too far from shore too soon, the caves where old Spearmint was the death of others so close to the end of their training, and the bastion that held bones of boys killed in the pogroms. 

Geralt let out an uneasy breath. “It’s early to consider. First she needs to work on sitting up and crawling.”

Vesemir looked at Geralt with sad eyes and stood beside him, overlooking the sight where many trained but few ever left alive. “Looking back, Wolf, I wished it were different, all of it. If I knew what I know now, I like to think I would have done different.”

Geralt hummed and looked down at Laurentia. She had already closed her eyes and was starting to drift back to sleep.

“I regret the things you and your brothers were put through. For me and the other trainers, how we taught was the same as we had learned. It never occurred to me until it was vastly too late that I didn’t have to do as my elders did.” Vesemir clasped Geralt's shoulder. He looked up and met his mentor’s eyes. “Geralt, I trust you to be better than I ever was.”

Geralt’s throat tightened. “And if I don’t know how?”

Vesemir’s eyes softened. “You’ll learn. Besides, you already know more than you give yourself credit for. From what I’ve heard, our she-devil has made quite the name for herself on the Path.”

Geralt hummed, “She was almost a teenager when she came to me.”

“You may not have had a hand in her early years, but it was you who taught how to wield a sword and how to know which fights cannot be left alone.”

“I might have taught her how to slay a monster, but her grandmother taught her morals and justice better than I ever could.”

Vesemir sighed, “I know you, Wolf. You often think yourself not much more than the monsters we hunt, but a monster wouldn’t comfort crying children, show mercy when he can, and risk his own skin to see to it that others are safe. Laurentia will be a different challenge than Ciri, but I know it’s a challenge you are capable of handling. I trust you to raise her to be strong but not burdened in the way you boys were.”

Laurentia cooed softly in her sleep. Geralt ran his thumb along her hair. A small grin graced his lips. “I can only hope so.”

Vesemir held Geralt’s head in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “You’ve made me proud, son.”

Geralt leaned into the embrace. “Thank you, Vesemir, for everything.” He closed his eyes, taking in the warmth of his father and daughter.

—-

Geralt woke up in his soft bed, his lover’s warm body beside him. He could hear his baby daughter sleeping soundly in her cradle beside them. Ciri’s heartbeat was fainter in the distance, upstairs in her own room.

He was in his own home in Toussaint. Kaer Morhen had been abandoned and Vesemir was dead. 

He sat up and ran his hand over his face. 

Yennefer stirred beside him. “Geralt?” she whispered, not opening her eyes.

Geralt laid back down and put his arm around her. “Nothing, just had a dream is all. Go back to sleep, Yen.” 

Yennefer hummed and rolled over to face him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Geralt stared past her at the wall, thoughts racing. Yennefer took his hand and ran her thumb comfortingly over his knuckles.

He rested his head in the crook of her neck. He shook his head.

The two laid entangled together, Yennefer combing her fingers through his air as he held her close. Eventually, Yennefer drifted back to sleep. 

Geralt stared at the ceiling, memorizing the grains of the wood. He could feel time slipping past and sleep only getting farther away. 

Geralt sighed and got out of bed. He creeped over to Laurentia’s cradle. The babe was sound asleep. He smiled and ran his finger down her cheek. She was so small. She looked tiny in his hands.

Dawn was not far off when Geralt finally laid back down. Geralt stared at the ceiling, listening to his family sleep safely nearby. “Good night, Vesemir,” he whispered.

#geralt of rivia #yenralt #geralt x yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #vesemir #my writing #witcher 3 #tw3 #witcher fanfiction #laurentia of corvo bianco #kaer morhen #post blood and wine #my fic post #with golden string au

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No matter where you go or where you hide, we will never be apart.

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THE WITCHER (NETFLIX) + their gwent cards in the witcher: wild hunt

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Yenralt again!

I just can't stop...

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Okay. I absolutely LOVE how Yennefer turned out. She is so damned cute.

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Dandelion, I can’t say I’m surprised, but also, I’ll kill you if given the chance.

#Priscilla is the best part about your quests Dandelion #you had one good thing and you fucked it up #I should have let them keep taking you to Oxenfurt once you gave me the info I needed #dandelion #priscilla witcher #witcher comics #witcher 3 #dandelion witcher

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number 20 for the domestic OTP with children prompts 🥺

#20 - child: "Look, I made this for you. I also made one for mum/dad/parent."

"Has a Water Hag crawled from the swamps into my garden?"

"Mum!" Ciri responded incredulously, placing both fists on her hips where she stood under the arched entrance of the vast swatch of herbs, vegetables and ornamental flowers alike that made up her mother's garden.

Yennefer pushed the wide brim of her straw hat back, looking up from her kneeling position with a smile. "Oh! It is my vagabond daughter, returned. Excuse me, the smell was alarming at first."

Ciri glided forward on her witcher's footsteps and gathered the sorceress into her arms as soon as she stood up. "Well, now you will smell just as alarming!"

They embraced for several moments, Ciri not missing how her mother searched her body gingerly for injury under the guise. When they separated, they both wore large, pleased grins. Reunions only grew sweeter every time Ciri returned from the Path to visit her parents' seaside cottage.

"I'm glad to see you're still in one piece, Witcher," Yennefer said playfully, hooking their arms at the crook. "Shall we get you into a bath?"

"Yes, but first!" Ciri used her free hand to dig around in the leather bag she kept strapped to her hip. "Look, I made this for you. I also made one for the old man."

In her outstretched hand, Ciri held two bracelets made of woven horse hair with silver clasps. In the center of each bracelet's length, a milky green stone. As Yennefer took in the jewelry, she noticed a matching bracelet on her daughter's wrist. The power from the stones was dull, but Yennefer could sense it swirling under each cloudy surface.

"I know you're much better at enchanting stones, but I picked this spell up from a druidess I met along the path," Ciri spoke with slight anxiety and eyes brimming with hopeful expectation, "Put yours on and I'll show you."

"Well, alright." Yennefer held out her wrist and allowed her daughter to clasp the bracelet.

The stone was cool against Yennefer's skin initially, but as Ciri closed her eyes and set a fingertip to her own matching stone, Yennefer felt the magic take hold. The milky tone of the stone cleared and a bright pink hue shone through the green stone accompanied by a light warmth.

Yennefer felt her breath catch. "Oh, Cirilla -"

"Whenever one of us thinks of the other and touches the stone, it will let the other one know!"

Pride and love swelled within her mother and Yennefer had to pull Ciri into another hug. Ciri buried her face into the crook of Yennefer's neck, despite the bend it required in her tall frame.

"You like it?"

Yennefer blinked back the mist in her eyes. "Yes, Ciri, it's quite lovely and thoughtful." As they separated, she thumbed at Ciri's cheek to remove the smudged coal from the happy tears that she shed. "You're going to make your father cry like a baby, you know?"

Ciri threw her head back in laughter. "Geralt has grown soft in his old age, hasn't he?"

"Yen, have you let a drowner up from the coast?" The deep voice called from the edge of the woods as the white haired Witcher returned from his foraging just then.

Ciri stuck her tongue out. "No, a Water Hag."

It was going to be satisfying to watch Geralt tear up even more over the gift after that comment.

---

Original post: (feel free to request more prompts!)

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Family

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Witcheress Cirilla

Photo by @alphagravy and my edits.

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The Witcher & why fanon and canon are not as separate as they are in other medias

Okay so I just answered and reblogged this poll about what parts of the Witcher you interact with (fanon vs canon) and it made me realize that a lot of fans might not be aware of the fact that fanon and canon are not neatly seperated when it comes to the Witcher. It’s kind of a clusterfuck actually. So allow me to attempt to explain it. Before the post, let me make sure everyone understands that I am referencing the translations of the books. I have not read them in the original Polish. If anyone has and some of what I say is inaccurate, please let me know. Extremely long post ahead. 

Keep reading

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Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Vesemir

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Vesemir (The Witcher), Original Child Character(s), I gave Geralt and Yennefer a baby

Additional Tags: Post-Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC)

Series: Part 3 of With Golden String

Summary:

Vesemir nodded in approval. “Toussaintois meaning laurel plant, or, more figuratively, ‘place of victory and honor’. It’s a good name, a strong one. She’ll wear it well.”

Or: Geralt gets to introduce Vesemir to the newest wolf pup, in a way

#yenralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #vesemir #laurentia of corvo bianco #I’m not dead #and I made an oc #my fic post #witcher 3 #Witcher

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I just think they also deserved that reunion hug in tw3