Requests: The Witcher: Geralt of Rivia- Spellbound
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader & Ciri x Platonic!Fem!Reader
Pov: Geralt Of Rivia/ Ciri
Warnings: Mages, magic, fighting, Kaer Morhen, Angst, Fluff, memorial statues, death/revival, female witcher!Reader, falling back into love, happy family vibes.
Summary: The only female witcher is frozen in time at Kaer Morhen, but when Geralt brings Ciri there, something magical and extraordinary happens. Reuniting two past lovers.
A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers; this is a request.
WC- 2.4k
Requests Master List // The Witcher Master List // The Heros Master List
The first and last female witcher statue stands in the middle of Kaer Morhen. It’s a daily reminder of my failure to protect her and that I must try to be better for her sake. Vesmir had been a helping hand when I lost her. He was the only father figure I had, and I was more than grateful when he chose to have the stone figure of her placed in Kaer Morhen. It was a reminder of how little there were of Witchers like us, but also that love was forever.
It just stung too much, and I needed to leave Kaer Morhen. Spring was starting a new, and with that, paths and plans were already ready to be brought to action. I packed my little things and took Roach back on the dirty trails that were now not covered in inches of snow. Yet, this path led to a world I’d instead have never been a part of. A law of surprise that leads to a child. A child born to be the princess of Cintra.
Many more happened before I knew the law of surprise would put her and me on the same path. I’m more than surprised when it leads me straight to her. In an effort to firstly protect the princess and secondly help her because the duty has sadly fallen to me due to the war. I bring her to Kaer Morhen. I get her there to learn and to be supported by Vesmir; then again, I’m reminded of a promise that I must protect Ciri in every possible way, as I couldn’t do so for Y/n.
Y/n statue stares at me. Her frozen, hurt face, I can hear the echo of screams and how quickly they were cut off before I could make it to the fight. Her beauty hasn’t left her face. A smile that is in the back of my head, but her voice. That beautiful voice. The only thing that could lull me to sleep and keep my spirits high was fading ever so quickly in my mind. All I had left of her were the memories and the statue. Her dress flew in the wind as she was frozen head to toe.
It had been a mage, an unhappy mage, that had followed us to the mountainside. I remember it now being about me. The memorial was about many things. Y/n had been the only female witcher, so for one, it was a remembrance of that fact alone. Y/n had also said that if she ever died, in battle or at home, she would love to be able to gaze at the morning sunrise and sunset setting.
I hadn’t realized how long it had been until I arrived at Kear Morhen. Years had passed, and I had gained the child princess and a few friends in those years. Yet even with the people around me, there was still an ache in my chest, so looking at her frozen staring with that scared expression only caused the hurt to grow.
I introduced Ciri to everyone. Vesmir understood that this was a unique matter at hand. He helped me in any way I needed. I wake Ciri every morning before the morning rose above the mountain tops. “Come, let’s go practice.” At first, it was with swords and then with combat. And every day, Y/n watched us, unmoving and silent. Every day, like clockwork, Ciri would get distracted as she wandered off the battle arena and towards Y/n’s statue. “Who is this?” There was a tiny plaque at the bottom of her lonely statute—Y/n’s name written in a language known to only a few witchers, one of which was Y/n.
On the plaque, it reads:
Y/n, L/n
The First and Only Female Witcher
We miss you.
“Someone important,” I tell Ciri, and that’s where I leave it, but I feel I should know better. Ciri will go on an adventure to figure it out herself, regardless of what I want her to know about it. “Let’s return to practice before you get distracted even further,” I tell Ciri, and she follows me obediently, but there is something, and I can feel it as if Ciri is drawn to Y/n.
–
Geralt doesn’t talk much about his past, and I know he’s got secrets he’s unwilling to share with me right now. There is just something about that statute. I can’t read the plaque below it, yet I do not care. There is a beauty around her, so everyone had to go to bed to rest every night after I sneak out of the room and walk down to the statue.
I sneak out to talk to her. Unlike Geralt, she couldn’t give me a look of not understanding or dismissing me when he’d heard enough about my thoughts. I just want and need someone to understand me. I would walk out and talk to her for nights in a row. About anything and everything. How training was going, how much I missed my grandmother, the war, and the magic I felt pumping through my veins. Anything that scared me I talked to her about.
One night, I thought I got caught. I had snuck out after a late dinner. Geralt had said I needed to do more training than when we first arrived here, yet we had already been here for ages. His words and his calm demeanor pissed me off. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?” I yelled at Geralt. I was standing up from the table. The chair slid and scratched the floor in the process. “I never said that,” Geralt said calmly. “Yet you never say I’m doing good; you just grunt and walk away. You don’t even talk to me about anything. Everything is a damn secret, I just want to understand, yet that was the most difficult thing here.” I screamed before stomping to my room, leaving half-uneaten food on my plate. The sound of echoing feet happened hours later, and when I peeked my head out of the room, there was nobody in the living space.
“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t talk about things. I just want him to teach me and not just grunt at me and then tell me to repeat what I was just doing.” I fuss at the beautiful statue. She’s cleaned every day, and she almost looks real. If I just climbed up and touched her, she would come to life before me. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for this stuff,” I mumble as I look down at the ground before me. I must be too into my thoughts because I don’t hear when Vesmir comes behind me.
“I see you’re out here talking to our beautiful Y/n.” Vesmir said, “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, Vesmir.” I said, grabbing onto my chest and holding my fast-beating heart. “Wait, did you just say her name?” I asked, whipping around and asking Vesmir. He smiles down gently at me. “Of course, this is the only female Witcher. She was the best of the best and a loving woman.” Vesmir adds before stepping further next to me. “I’m assuming from your reaction that Geralt hasn’t told you of the story about our dead Y/n.” I shake my head, “Hmm, I wonder, I must tell you now.”
“So the story goes as follows. Y/n, the only female witcher, was with Geralt. God, they were in love with each other. They thought a hell of a lot of monsters together, but of course, a love story must always have a villain to it. There was a mage, according to Geralt. That had not taken his various forms of saying no to heart. The mage had dragged Y/n into the fight that unfortunately put her in this frozen state.” Vesmir says, and as he continues to talk, he looks fondly at her.
“So Geralt and her were together; no wonder he’s so tightlipped about her. He wouldn’t even tell me her name.” I say sadly, looking back up at her. “She is beautiful.” I say in a low, sadden voice, “Y/n is beautiful, I bet she was a great listener.” I say I hear a chuckle from behind “I wish I could have met her.” I say out loud, clearly. My hand sits on the stone base of her boot. “I figure she would have loved to have met you. You are much like her Ciri.” Vesmir adds.
Just then there’s this moment of consuming silence. My hand still wrapped around her boot. “Ciri?” I hear Vesmir behind me. “What are you doing?” He asks, there’s shock in his voice, and a bit of terror. “I don’t… what are you talking about?” I ask looking up from the gravel beneath my feet.
Her statue is lite up with a light blue hue. “I wasn’t… I was just holding her foot that was all I promise you.” The blue hue grows with strength until finally it echos into the sky, streaming onto every single surface it can touch.
–
I can sleep here, regardless of the anger that Ciri is pushing towards me. I can only ever sleep here at Kaer Morhen. It brings the past memeoties to the brim of my mind. Y/n fliters through my thoughts. Her voice echoing through my head, the sound of her laugh, the spring scent that followed her around. She was nothing like a witcher, her emotions open and willing to be connected with someone else. I ache in the best and worst ways for her. Yet I don;t dare tell Ciri about her. I can see it now, if Y/n was around she’d just love Ciri. Y/n would be so happy to be acting like her mother. As much as Y/n understood that she was the only female witcher, she also wished to be normal. She wished that she could have kids. It was a sad conversation that the both of us had to have.
My eyes open with haste. A blue bright light pulling me from my dreams of my perfect family. There’s this searing blue light that is filtering through the walls of Kaer Morhen, and my thought flutter over to Ciri. I hope Ciri is alright. I jump up from the uncomfortable bed. I run through the halls, Ciri’s door is left open. Panic starts to set into my bones. I run around the others coming out of there rooms. The blue hue is fading away, and for a moment I swear I can hear Y/n’s voice. I push that away from my thoughts, as I frantly look for Ciri. I find that the front door is open wide, and when I look out there’s nothing but crumble stone all over the ground.
“Geralt?” I hear Vesmir say. I look up front he ground swallow hard, bearing for the worst. Instead it’s not the worst. “I need you to believe what I’m about to say.” He says steadily. “Vesmir what are you talking about?” “Just let me finish alright, Ciri has awoken Y/n.” I stand there, my heart beats and my jaw leaps down to the ground in shock. We had tried everything, spells, magic, ruins to fix her condition. “Geralt?” A sweet voice calls from the dust before it all clears.
There she is, standing in all of her glory. Grey hair that flows in the night wind. Y/n hasn’t aged a single day in the many years that she’s been frozen in her stone state. My hands shake my heart beats so fast I can hear it in my ears. I’ve never felt a source of panic and relief all in one little moment. “Is that really you?” My voice is shattered and my heart feels as if it’s been broken and put back together all over again. “Oh my dear Geralt. I think you and I both know that it’s me.” Y/n says as her eyes flicker over to the stone slab we put her on, and then to Ciri. My eyes widen with shock. Y/n is most defiantly not up there anymore, and the expression on Ciri’s face is easy to read. “Let’s take this inside, is that alright Vesmir?” Y/n asks her voice floating into my ears. It calms my racing heart.
The walk inside is odd, and perfect all at the same time. We all sit at the same table that Ciri had just recently yelled at me. “Who may this be, Geralt?” She asks me, and it pulls me away from just staring at her. I use to stare at her all the time. Her beauty was always hard to not get distracted by. “This is um… this is Ciri.” I introduce her to Y/n. Y/n smiles sweetly over at her. “It’s a pleasure to met the person who fixed my rather unfortunate situation.” I forget how eloquent Y/n spoke most of the time. “I didn’t know that was going to happen.” Ciri speaks for the first time. “I told Ciri about what happened. Maybe that has something to do with this miracle.” Vesmir says looking over at me. I want to be anger with him and Ciri but the soft, and gentle hand that settles on my arm brings me back to earth. I can’t dare to be mad at either of them.
“I think we should thank them Geralt. As for without their efforts I would not have come back to you.” Y/n says looking over at me. I nod simply. “Thank you for bringing her back to me, Ciri. I owe you a lot more now.” Ciri looks at me notching her head to the side. “Geralt you don’t owe me anything. I just wanted to know more about Y/n.” Ciri says look at he pair of us. “I would love to tell you more about me in the morning I’m rather tired.” Y/n says it like there’s nothing wrong with that fact. “Will you take me to bed, Geralt?” Y/n asks me, her grasps holding me tight. I shake my head not able to talk just yet. “I missed you.” Y/n says as we walk towards the room we used to share.
synopse: You were a witch, not one of those we see in Harry Potter or in children's stories where witches are the villains. You were a normal teenager, but luckily for you, you had some potions and spells at your disposal. And after being caught carrying out one of your shenanigans on the school grounds, you end up having to help Jackson with a potion. But what could go wrong? All.
warnings: magic, fantasy, fluff
word count: 1585
masterlist
Jackson hated staying after hours at school. He wondered every day why teachers always assigned such huge assignments. Didn't they realize that students had other things to do? Well, Jackson was just another complaining student, but he still did everything to complete his assignments correctly and earn the highest grade.
He walked calmly through the school corridors, letting out sighs and grumbles here and there. He knew there were few students in school that day and mentally thanked himself for not being alone there because that place gave him shivers down his spine. While noticing some details never seen by his eyes in that immense corridor, he heard some not-so-quiet curses towards the sports court and thought about going straight, but his brain told him to turn around and see what was happening, so he did.
He looked at the small open corridor leading to the sports court and proceeded forward slowly, looking around to make sure no one saw him. He stopped behind the pillar next to the opening leading to the court and started observing you, who was in the center of the place.
You were wearing the school uniform and had some object in yours hands, emitting sparks. Jackson widened his eyes when he saw you had turned in his direction. He quickly crouched down, trying to hide behind the low wall and prayed that you hadn't seen him there, especially because he wasn't sure what you were doing there and why the object in yours hand was emitting sparks. He stood up slowly, looked at you again, and this time managed to see clearly what you were holding; a wand. A. Wand. Emitting. Sparks.
Jackson wasn't sure what he was feeling, he just knew that either he was hallucinating or he needed a good night's sleep when he got home. He knew that what he was seeing in front of him couldn't be real; witches, magic wands, none of that existed, but why was he seeing it?
The boy was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice you — who was previously in the middle of the court — now next to him, looking at him with yours hands on yours hips.
"Can I know what you're snooping around for?" you asked.
The guy was more confused than anything else. You were seconds ago in the middle of the basketball court. How did you get here so quickly and without him seeing her? Running was not an option.
"How did you get here so fast?" This time it was Jackson who asked.
"Wrong answer." You descended the step and stood facing him. "I asked first, and I would like the correct answer."
"You..." He blinked a few times and shook his head, trying to push away the actions he had just seen, which seemed more like hallucinations than anything else. "I was just passing by." He tried to maintain a serious posture.
You raised one of yours eyebrows in doubt and put your hand on your chin. That boy was too strange to be true and seemed too nervous as well. Did he see your antics in the middle of the court? And what if he spread the word that you were a witch?
"Hold on a second." Jackson squinted his eyes, searching his mind for where he knew her from. "You're the girl who exploded the test tube in chemistry class... right?"
You froze. You didn't know exactly how he remembered that fateful day or your name. You wished could remember a spell right now to erase that disastrous event from everyone's lives and go back to walking around without receiving some looks from those who were with you that day.
"It's me." You raised her head and pretended not to hear anything from the guy before saying your name. "And who are you?"
"Jackson Wang."
[...]
If you knew that on that day you “met” Jackson your life would turn upside down and not in a good way, you would have thought a thousand times before deciding to do one of your antics in that place. Now, to your misfortune, you were being blackmailed by the brown-haired boy.
It all started after the day that you two met on the basketball court; Wang, as if he didn't want anything, arrived just before history your class started and sat in the chair next to you.
"How are you?" he asked with a big strange smile on his lips.
You stopped reading the book in yours hands and looked at the boy beside you, thinking of a thousand things to kick him out of there, until you saw his mischievous smile.
"What do you want here, Wang?" You mimicked his smile. You were curious to know what he wanted by looking for you. You had some ideas of what it could be, but preferred to keep those ideas to herself.
"I need your help," he began. "Well... there's a girl from my chemistry class that I'd like to ask out..." he whispered this part, as if afraid someone else would hear. “But I don't know how to do it."
Your smile gradually faded as you listened to what the boy was saying. You were astonished by what Wang was saying. How could he, with the appearance of a Greek god and an unparalleled shamelessness, not know how to ask someone out? It was becoming hilarious. You smiled mischievously again, as if plotting something in your mind.
"Why do you have that shameless smile on your face?" Jackson asked, beginning to regret coming to you for help, but he knew he still had a card up his sleeve to wipe that smirk off your face.
"I was thinking of something here... How come you, Jackson Wang, the school's player, the 'Greek god' here, don't know how to ask a girl out?"
"The same way you don't know, I also don't know..." The boy shrugged and continued. "And that's where you come in... don't you have a potion, or, I don't know, a spell for that...?"
You stopped thinking as soon as you heard those words coming from the other. You were expecting something exaggerated from the boy, but not something from your spells, or as your father liked to say, "powers that Harry Potter once used to defeat You-Know-Who," which had nothing to do with being a witch in the 21st century.
"What did you say?"
"You know... what witches do with wands and cauldrons."
Joy's jaw dropped in shock.
"But if you don't want to, I can tell a certain someone who controls the school… cough… that she has a little witch in her school, and that she's been casting some spells around."
And it was after that you wanted to fly at Jackson's throat, because for the first time in your life, which wasn't many years, you had been discovered by a human, who was blackmailing you. But for Jackson's luck, and for your misfortune, you were without one of your transformation potions.
[...]
After that day, every blessed day, Jackson showed up to bother you with that stupid and huge smile that could melt anyone. Of course, you found Jackson attractive and a nice guy, but everything he was making you do made, you roll yours eyes 24/7, and it was really stressing you out.
You had warned Jackson that today, on Friday the 13th, he was to wait for you outside the school to solve this potion problem. As soon as you two were released from school, you both walked without a word towards your house, or as Jackson liked to think, a cave.
You two stopped in front of a house with a green garden and entered it shortly after.
"What is it?" you asked, giving a questioning look to the other.
"I thought we were going to a cave or something..." he whispered, seeming a bit confused with what he was saying.
"We're in the 21st century, not the 15th." You laughed, wondering where he got all that from. "Back then, we couldn't do this anywhere, because we were seen as evil beings, with their black cats, casting spells on anyone, but nowadays, humans, without any kind of power or anything like that, are their own enemies." You shrugged and pointed to a place where the other could leave his backpack, and both headed towards a small room not far from the living room.
There were shelves in the four corners of the room with jars and more jars of things that Jackson had never seen in his entire life. He was starting to regret having had this stupid idea.
"I know all this is scary, but there are good witches, you know?" You turned to him with a small smile on your face, which somehow helped him calm down a bit.
You spent a few minutes looking for the potion you had prepared the night before, which for some reason wasn't where you left it the night before. You stopped for a few seconds to think, and turned to Jackson, finding him about to do one of the dumbest things he could do: drink the love potion.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, Jackson drinking the orange liquid as if it were orange juice and loving it, and you were panicking at seeing the whole scene without being able to do something, because it was already too late. The guy looked at you, not understanding anything, and said three magic words:
"I like you."
a/n: im back, I hope you like it. I'm working on a Nanami fic, so keep an eye out.
Author’s Note: This is part three of my Witcher series, which started at Opposites Don't Attract and continued to Left In the Cold
Summary: Y/n finds herself in Poviss, living an almost-normal life in the North. A blizzard leaves her stuck.
Pairing: Geralt x Reader
Word count: 2330
Story Warnings: a bit of angst, confrontation, some kissing
~~~
Poviss was cold. A Northern mountain territory with residents who weren’t used to outsiders. They were surprised when a witcher approached the gates of Tredam, but you just set your eyes on the snow beneath your boots and stepped past the guards. Your first instinct was to find the tavern, but you stopped at the town message board first. Maybe to find a job. Maybe to find a place to stay. There were several notices for missing cats and dogs, but the page that caught your attention said Shak for rint. 2 rooms plus outhous. Shit at keeping out cold but has a pit. Build a fire. Find me at Bicages Inn. Ask for Liam.
You pulled the parchment down and folded it, tucking it into your shirt. You adjusted your cloak and headed down the mud and stone covered main road through Tredam, eyes on the sign hanging from a building in the distance.
"Yer a witcher?" The man at the bar named Liam barely looked at you as he spoke and you could imagine him wanting nothing to do with you...until you realized that his accent was Skelligen and he wore no symbol of clan loyalty. An exile. An outsider, just like you.
"Yes. I'm just looking for a place to lay low for the winter."
"Ain' there a spot yer kine go ta fer the cold months? Off ta the East?"
Your lips went thin as you pressed them together for a moment. You cleared your throat and looked toward the barman, who nodded at you and grabbed a mug to fill it for you. "I'm not welcome at Kaer Morhen." You pulled your medallion out of your cloak and dangled it where he could see the cat head. "Cats are banned. Lucky me, I'm an outsider even from the other outsiders."
"Heard things 'bout Cat witchers."
"All true," you interrupted. "Foul, chaotic, rude, quite insane, the lot of us. Fortunately, I've denounced much of my teachings. Which is why I'm not in the Southlands with the Cat Caravan."
"Yew got a hundred florins?" he asked after several quiet moments. You nodded. "Yew can have the cabin 'til first thaw, then. Have yer drink an' then I'll take yew to it."
"Thank you," you said quietly before taking a seat on the stool beside him.
The cabin was deep in the woods outside Tredam and it was small, a bedroom and a kitchen and sitting area, but it was more than enough for you. Liam left you alone. You made witcher potions. You cooked in the firepit. You did small jobs around Poviss to earn coin for liquor and food. It was the closest to the simplicity of normal peasant life as you'd ever experience.
Once they got used to your presence in their town, several of the people of Tredam were fairly welcoming, offering smiles and greetings when they saw you. They knew your name. They knew your drink order at the tavern. They knew which herbs you needed before you walked into the apothecary. They knew what book you were reading that week and had suggestions for what you should buy next. They accepted you. No wonder Liam felt comfortable in Tredam.
The second storm of winter was much worse than the first, leaving you stranded in your cabin. Your horse, Daisy, was boarded in the stable behind the tavern and, though you missed your animal companion, you were grateful for that. She would have frozen in the blizzard. You, however, were at least alive in the cabin, fire blazing, bundled in cloaks and blankets.
You sensed movement outside the log walls of the cabin and your brow furrowed. The snow had been falling without stopping for hours. Who, in their right mind, would be out in that sort of weather? And why hadn't you heard them approach?
You stood and grabbed your steel, immediately thinking of Joel. It would be just your luck that Marchioness Woudsly sent another witcher your way. You couldn’t kill another of your brothers. You would die first. But if it wasn't a Cat…
You opened your door with your sword ready and gasped as your eyes fell on the white-haired Wolf you left behind months before. You froze, fingers gripping the handle of your sword as he looked down at you, snow whipping around him on strong wisps of wind.
"Are you going to kill me or invite me in?"
You blinked at him a few times before you sighed and lowered the sword, stepping out of the doorway and dropping your eyes to the wood floor. He stepped in and shut the door, shaking snow off of his hair and shoulders. You bit into the inside of your cheek as you sheathed your sword. What were you supposed to say to him? Did he come to Tredam to find you? Was he on a job? Were you the job? Would Geralt ever take a contract like that? Not against a human, but you weren't human and if he thought you murdered the Marquees…
"What are you doing here, Geralt?" you asked, pulling your cloak around you tighter.
"Did you expect me to stay in Kagen?"
"N-no," you stumbled, moving closer to the fire and avoiding the amber eyes staring at you through the dim light of your cabin. "But I didn’t expect you here, either."
"Obviously." You ignored the tone of his voice as you sat on a small wood stool and warmed your fingers near the fire. He watched you for a few moments before moving to lean against the wall. "You never came back."
"Obviously," you responded, shortly.
"Why?"
You tucked your hands under your cloak and stared at the flames. How the hell were you supposed to answer that? How were you supposed to tell the great White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, the most famous witcher of the time, that you were too bloody sensitive to be baited into a heartbreak at his hands? How could you tell him that you'd never recover from the fall? How could you tell him you'd regretted riding away since the moment you mounted up?
"Why not?" was the answer that escaped you. Not much of an answer, but it didn’t get you killed so it must have worked well enough.
He let out a small sigh and shook his head. "I didn't take you as a coward."
Your eyes went wide, anger immediately racing through your blood. Rage heated your face. At least you weren't cold anymore. "Excuse me?"
"You got scared and you ran away," he accused. "You're a fucking coward."
You leaped to your feet, glaring up at him. "Nothing about you scares me, Wolf!"
He just glared back at you. "Could have fooled me, Feline."
"Oh, fuck off!" You scoffed and threw your hands up. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Can't you take a fucking hint? I don't want anything to do with-"
"Liar," he interrupted, stepping closer.
"Gods, you are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren't you? I left you in Kagen because I didn't-"
"Because you're a coward."
"I'm not a--what kind of witcher do you take me for?" He just tilted his head, looking down at you with that frustratingly handsome face. You let out an angry grunt and turned away. "You are infuriating! I came here to get away from you!"
"You admit you ran away to hide, then?" You didn't even have to look to know he was smirking.
"I'm not hiding!"
"Yes, you are."
"I am not!" You whipped back around, glaring at him again. "You need to leave. I don't want you here. I don't want you around. I don't want a wolf in my home-"
"You don't have a home, Cat." He pushed back away from the wall and stepped right in front of you. "This is just a cabin you rented to hide."
"Fuck off, Geralt." You grabbed the cold iron of the door handle and pulled it open. Snow piled up on the doorstep, halfway up the frame. In just the short time he'd been in your cabin, the storm had gotten worse. You couldn’t send him out in that. "Fuck."
"Guess you're stuck with me."
You slammed the door and looked from the fire to the bedroom door. It was the only place to get away from him, but were you willing to risk the cold?
You certainly tried. You wrapped your cloaks and blankets around you on the wool-stuffed mattress in the bedroom. You held out stubbornly, listening to Geralt breathing beside your fire, until the cold overwhelmed you. It was your fire, after all. Why should he get to enjoy it while you froze your tits off?
You refused to look at him as you dropped to the floor beside the fire, grateful for the warmth flowing into your limbs. You sat in silence for what seemed like hours, tension settled over you as the wind roared outside.
"I waited for you," he said, eventually. You kept your eyes on the fire. "I knew you weren't coming back after the second day, but I waited."
"Then you're a fool," you responded quietly.
"A fool to hope, I agree." You rolled your eyes. 'Hope'. He couldn't have really hoped you'd come back. "I waited a week. Until the bard came back to tell me you'd ridden North."
You shook your head. You told Dandelion not to involve himself in your business.
"Geralt…"
"Why?"
You closed your eyes and bit the inside of your bottom lip. Maintaining silence on the issue at hand probably wasn't feasible. Not with him stuck in your cabin. Your hiding spot...because, really, he was right wasn’t he? You were hiding from him…and here he was.
He waited for your answer, didn't press. Witchers were nothing if not patient.
"You don't want me, Geralt," you said, looking over the flames at him. "I'm just a stray Cat that you play with sometimes. I'm not…"
"Don't bring up Triss and Yen."
"How can I not?" You pulled your cloak around you tighter and hugged yourself. "You think I'm just going to ignore them? Or any of the others? You have a type, Wolf. Sorceresses for relationships, whores for fun. Which category do you suppose I find myself in?"
He hummed and focused his eyes on the fire. "Do you...know why I'm called Butcher of Blaviken?"
You didn't understand why he was asking. Everyone knew the story...and anyone with an intimate knowledge of witchers, especially of Geralt, knew that he'd had no choice. "Of course."
"I don't think you do."
"Well...then enlighten me," you urged, curious as to how that massacre had anything to do with the conversation you were having.
He was silent for a few moments before he let out a small groan and looked up to catch your eyes. "There was a woman...Renfri. Not a sorceress...not a whore...a princess." Your jaw dropped a little. "She was one of the princesses marked as harbingers of Lilit. She managed to escape when she was taken to be killed. She was...beautiful, resourceful…"
He looked back down to the fire. "When I met her, she was the leader of a group of bandits. A princess, who should have been a queen by all blood-rights, was stealing for her supper."
"The bandits that you…"
He nodded in answer to your question. "She was determined to get revenge on the mage that ruined her. She asked for my help. I asked her to…" He shook his head. "I asked her to walk away, let go of it. She couldn't. She went after him...any means necessary...go through all who stand in her way...me included. She wouldn’t stop."
You licked your lips and leaned forward. "She was consumed."
"She was the first woman I felt anything for. I didn't think I could feel before her." He looked over at you. "She made me feel...and I had to kill her."
Your throat clenched around the sudden rise of emotion, your brain replaying Joel attacking you. You looked away, tears welling up in your eyes. "I had a brother. I left him behind at Dyn Marv. He was offered a contract on me." You swallowed thickly. "He wouldn't stop either. He was so angry with me."
You took a shaky breath and sighed it out. "I feel, Geralt. And I know you feel things too, but it's different. It's different for me. I'm not a wolf. I can act like I'm just like you but I'm not."
"You don't make sense." He stood and looked down at you. "You know I feel for Yen. You know I feel for Triss. But when it comes to you, I'm a wolf so I'm heartless."
You opened your mouth to argue but he kept talking. "I do feel for you. I care about you and knowing you left me waiting for you in Kagen hurt. Knowing that you decided to hide from me hurt. So tell me, Cat, if I'm just a wolf with no emotions, why was I compelled to find you? Why did I have to see your face again? Why couldn't I stop?"
You stood slowly, on shaking legs. “It’s...just…” You licked your lips, trying to find words, but finding none.
He reached out and grabbed your shoulders, looking down into your eyes. “Don’t.” He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to yours. He felt like fate. You reached up and wrapped your left hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss you harder. “Don’t hide,” he mumbled into your mouth as he pushed you back into the wall.
Heat enveloped you as his body pressed into yours. The cold of the blizzard was forgotten. The fear of the future was forgotten. For a moment, everything was okay and you didn’t need to hide.
hi ! i have finally come up with a story idea , based on a dr script I started writing. it is a geraskier x reader story , but with a bit of a twist :
vampire!jaskier and werewolf!witcher!reader
i’m going to be uploading a bit of a backstory type thing as well as their aesthetics in a little , so if you’d like to join the taglist for the story , send an ask with a 🐺 emoji.
title : the werewolf, the witcher, and the vampire
I see that the requests are open 👀 I don't have a specific scenario in mind, but I just want to read something with a Geralt x Witcher!Reader where reader is a badass for everyone but just all soft with Geralt, if you don't mind of course ♥️✨
“I thought you were dead...”
GeraltxWitcher!Reader
By Jena Marie
Summary:
Y/n, a formidable and reknown Witcher hasn’t heard from her lover Geralt in several days. Word says he was thrown from the cliffs to his death, but she refuses to give up hope and goes to find him herself 💕 Warnings: swearing.
This fic is for @seutarose !! Thank you for requesting! I hope its what you had in mind 💕💕
“What if it’s true?” Dinah asked, her voice small, like she was afraid.
“What?” The woman replied in a harsh but thick voice, obviously upset.
“What if Geralt is dead?”
There was a long silence. She turned her head away from Dinah, clenching her hands in her lap. She was breathing deep, like she was trying to calm something inside of her.
“This is because of what Ciri said, isn’t it?” She finally snapped, her voice deep like it was on the edge of breaking, sadness and despair taking over as tears welled and she whipped her head around to look Dinah in her eyes. Dinah was unfazed, still gentle with her friend.
“Why wouldn’t you believe her?” Dinah asked, and Y/n let out a deep and slow breath. She sniffed, wiping her eyes furiously, cursing herself for the weakness that seeped through her. Cursing Geralt for making her act like this.
“Because Ciri wasn’t there when it happened!”
The woman rose from the bed, tall and with strong stature, and started towards the door. She grabbed her hilt and strapped it on with her long and thick-bladed sword still attached. She grabbed a tie from the cloak-hanger and tied her hair back almost aggressively. It hurt Dinah to see her good-spirited and strong friend to be so shaken. When she was like this, she was always snappy and angry, but Dinah was understanding, and never held it against her.
“Where are you going?” Dinah asked expectantly, rising from the bed and almost racing for the door. The woman turned to her, giving her an incredulous look that a teenager gives to their parent. “Y/n you know it’s not smart. We have to stay out of trouble!”
“You really think I care what John says?”
“He’s our uncle.”
“And a drunkard. I’ve had to break him out of more bar fights than I can count.”
Dinah sighed, “I— look, it’s obvious I can’t stop you, you’re Y/n L/n for God’s sake,” she said, and the witcher stepped out of the door, turning her back to Dinah as she started to her horse.
Dinah stepped out of the doorway into the night. “But don’t let anyone hurt you!” She shouted, a hint of care still leftover for her sister.
“Who do you think I am?” She yelled back, as she mounted her horse and started on the path leading into the thick forest, kicking up dirt behind her.
It was morning when she found him. He had clawed from the ravine he had fell into and used his energy elixirs to keep himself awake.
She would never forget the way she felt when she saw him. He had mangled, so torn-- unlike anything she had ever seen happen to him. She screamed his name, thinking he was dead. Jumping off of her horse, she raced down the cliff which seemed to take forever, and collapsed on the rocks in front of him.
She was so sure he had met his unlawful end, as expected of every witcher, but she thought it was too soon. She didn’t have enough time with him. She never thought she had enough time with him. And now he’s gone.
Her heart stopped when she heard his labored breaths.
“Y/n.” He whispered through a labored, scratchy voice. Y/n cupped his stubbled face and looked into his eyes. Her hair dangled on the sides of his face, and he tried to reach up to hold her, his face softening against the pain he felt when he recognized her voice.
“Let me see your eyes, hon.” She said sweetly but her voice was still thick with emotion, trying to keep it all in as she checked his pupils. Geralt had always told her to stop bottling emotions and to let them flow, he always hated it when she kept things like that from him. As much as she didn’t want tears to flow, she was still so rattled after seeing how injured and vulnerable he was. The dragon he was attempting to keep Ciri from ended up somehow throwing him off of the tall cliff and into the ravine. Ciri said that even a witcher couldn’t survive that long of a fall.
“What did they do to you?” She whispered through tears, her voice shrill as she spoke in sharp tones. Geralt only grunted in response as he sipped on the last few drops of his whiskey he always carried with him.
“Come on. We got to go now.” As she helped him to his wobbly feet, he dropped his whiskey.
“Fuck’s sake.”
“Geralt, you can’t stay here.”
He only winced and clutched his ribs as she led him away from his hiding spot, and onto a long path that led to the top of the ravine.
“I thought you were fucking dead, Geralt. What were you thinking?” She demanded, voice threatening to wobble, but she swallowed it.
“Duty called in the east. It was nothing I couldn’t handle.” Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes as her hand reached out to grab his in a caress. The noisy bar filled their ears, but it was like it was only the two of them at that moment. Geralt looked deep into her eyes, and she thought she could just melt at his gaze. She missed him infinitely.
“I wish you never left the farm.”
“I know you do.” He sighed, leaning in slightly, looking at her lips. Y/n’s eyes darkened.
“We don’t have to live like this anymore. We can start again.” She cried softly.
“Mm.” Geralt said thoughtfully, his eyes warming at the thought.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Her voice was vulnerable. She was vulnerable like this, with him. It was the only time she let herself open, because he was her safety.
Geralt looked back into her eyes at the sound of her voice, searching for something he didn’t know he was looking for, finding the inevitable… home.
“It’s all I want.” He said softly against her lips, and she took up the remaining space between them, pressing her soft lips to his for the first time in several days.
@witch-of-letters requested: “ Hello! 😀 Can I request Geralt headcanons, where he falls in love with a female Witcher (the only one in existence that can use real sorcery - basically a Witcher/sorceress hybrid. Also, she's much more personable than Geralt 😋)? “
Note: I tried to change it to nonbinary, but I really don’t know how to write for someone who is nonbinary without getting pronouns mixed up. I’ll have to practice that. So, female-reader.
Triggers: Mentions of a bleeding.
“Geralt, Geralt, look!” Jaskier said excitedly as he stood. “As I live and breathe. Y/N!”
Y/N blinked as she looked to the shout and smiled, waving a hand and ordering a round of drinks before walking to them. “Jaskier. Still loud as ever, I see,” She chuckled.
Jaskier smiled and clapped a hand on her back, blinking as the innkeeper brought them the beers. Y/N nodded and drank deeply. Jaskier drank and glanced over, seeing the way Geralt studied the hybrid. He frowned and looked, studying her further.
“You’ve got a new one,” Geralt finally said once Y/N set down the mug. She nodded, fingers gingerly touching the healing scar on her neck. “You got careless.”
“I know,” she whined, pouting. “I got the bastard, but it wasn’t worth it in the end. Had to be patched up by the doctor and everything. It was awful,” She hummed.
“What was it?” Jaskier asked. Y/N smiled and recounted the tale for the bard.
Geralt watched the way she spoke. His eyes kept focusing on her neck. Finally, he stood, “I’m turning in,” He said simply, heading up to his room.
Y/N blinked, watching the Witcher go. “He okay?” She asked after a long silence.
“I think he loves you,” The bard said with a grin. He chuckled at the blink from the hybrid. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Y/N blushed a bit. “Why would he love me? Jaskier, please don’t tease me,” She sighed, resting her chin in her hand. Jaskier frowned at that. “I’m a monster.”
“Aren’t we all?” Jaskier challenged. “In all my travels with Geralt, I’ve found humans are more terrifying. But, I do believe he loves you, Witcher and Sorceress, and all.” He leaned in. “Wanna know how I know that?”
Y/N glanced at him and leaned closer, letting him whisper into her ear. “He pouts when we part from you, and the moment he spotted you, he straightened right up. Not to mention he saw that new mark first. He knows you’re healed but seeing it upset him.”
Y/N blushed at that, sitting down. Jaskier took a long drink and hummed. “Room Seven.”
He smirked as the hybrid shot up, walking quickly to the room in question.
Y/N blinked as she stood outside the room, hesitating as her hand had raised to knock. Before she could ponder if it were a good idea, the door swung open. The glare immediately softened as Geralt took in Y/N’s appearance. He stepped aside and let her into the room.
The hybrid stepped in, eying the area. “You alright?” She finally asked, blinking up at him.
“I’m fine. Why?” He asked simply, sitting down.
“Because Jaskier says you…” She stopped herself, afraid for the first time in her life now. Of all the things that she’d faced, somehow, asking Geralt about his feelings towards her made her freeze up.
“What’d he say?” He sighed, clearly annoyed.
She gulped and said, “You were worried about me.”
Geralt blinked and sighed, stepping towards her. She held her breath as his fingers brushed against her collar, pushing away the fabric to study the scar. “A bit,” He confessed. “That was deep enough to make a scar.”
Y/N smiled softly. “Yeah. I used a flame to cauterize it. It looks worse than it was. It only looks as bad as it does because I passed out while doing that.”
“Idiot,” he snapped. “You could’ve gotten killed.”
“But I didn’t!” Y/N giggled. She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Geralt, look at me.” His lip came up in a snarl as he watched her. She smiled gently and brought his hand to her cheek, leaning into his touch. “I’m okay. I promise.”
The anger melted from his face as he leaned down, resting his forehead to hers. He sighed softly as his thumb rubbed against her cheekbone. “How dare you.”
“Huh?”
“How dare you make me worry,” He said simply, lifting her chin and pecking her lips. She blushed and stared at him before kissing him. He hummed as he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. He slowly deepened the kiss as she stepped closer to him. “Idiot.”
She smiled against his lips. “You love me though, right?” She asked softly.
Title: Toss A Coin
A/N: Witcher AU. I didn’t want this to remain lost so I’m transferring it here. Cause I love my BNHA Witcher AU dang it! It is a Character x Reader fic.
Trigger Warnings: Canon-typical violence
You sighed as you looked up at the crumbling tower. The stones worn down by time and disuse, a mere shell of what it was. Climbing ivy clung to the stone, digging in and eroding the structure further. An eerie backdrop against the dark forest. Some would call it a safe place to stay for the night, unaware that danger lurked everywhere. Whether it would be in the tower itself or in the forest beyond, there was always something lurking ready to strike. That much was clear to you in this world, and it wasn’t always unnatural creatures that lurked with danger. With a gentle tug you turned your horse allowing him an avenue to bolt if he sensed danger. Your sword strapped to the saddle laid heavy against your leg, the silver metal covered by the plain sheath. Only the hilt held the crest that was familiar to you. The metal forged into a sigil as much as you were forged to be what you were. It was a comforting weight that eased your worries. A well-equipped warrior stood a better chance in these trying times; however you preferred the two daggers you were trained in. You could admit a good longsword could come in handy with certain enemies. Those that required a little distance to fight.
The local townsfolk whispered about young men and women being abducted near the ruins never to be heard from again. A group had recently gone missing and that had involved a lord’s son. The people feared retribution if they could not find the man or his corpse. Thus they were willing to hold out their coin to you to investigate. Better your blood spilled than theirs. Your horse shimmied alerting you to something lurking. A gentle pat along his neck soothed his nerves and allowed you to concentrate on your senses and feel the area around you. One handy advantage to being what you were, nothing could truly hide from you for long. The cluster of gravestones had a quick curse leaving your tongue especially noting the freshly turned dirt. At least three freshly turned graves. The group that went missing was four. You clicked your tongue as you figured they were all dead, but you were paid to find the information and kill what was causing the disappearances. Whether human or monster. The graves were a dead giveaway to what creature you’d be facing and it was a nasty business facing them.
“Aye. A hungry grave hag is it?” A grotesque parody of an old woman with a sharp tongue that would lash out and poison. You knew to be on your toes. You sighed and slid off your horse. “Best get to safety old friend. This won’t turn out well.” The sword fell heavy in your hand as you slapped your horse’s rump with the flat of your free hand. You brought out the oil cloth and slid the alchemical potion on the silver blade. Any advantage was needed, these creatures were quick. “Now. Let’s rid this land of you.” A quick scan of the sky gave you an approximate thirty minutes left of daylight which meant the grave hag was less likely to be awake. They operated at night and were weak in the light. You drew closer to the door and heard soft whimpering coming from the inside. That was odd. Whimpering? Grave hags didn’t whimper. But their victims do. You took a step back and then slammed your boot into the weak point in the door sending wood splinters everywhere and the door fell off its hinges. Best to get it over with. If there was a survivor it would be best to grab the hag’s attention to prevent any extra casualties.
The unearthly screech filled the small room. The grave hag was not happy at being woken. You took three large steps back into the once sprawling courtyard now choked with weeds and brambles. The thorns tugged at your leathers but could never penetrate the thick hide. Your eyes fixed on the entryway as you waited. A few seconds later the creature crawled into view. The skin grey and littered with pustules leaking greenish fluid, the smell was enough to gag most ordinary men. Its skin resembled that of a bloated corpse’s with sunken eyes glowing with otherworldly light. “Aye you are an unsightly one, aren’t you? Would’ve left you in peace but you had to kill the living.” You sighed and parried the grave hag’s tongue as it lashed out at you. The putrid smell of its breath had your stomach turning but you’d smelled worse. A quick flick of your wrist and your blade sliced through thick flesh and resulted in the tongue flopping on the ground at your boots. The pain filled screech raked across your senses as you leaped forward and aimed for the head. The gleaming silver of your longsword sliced through her flesh. The now headless corpse flopped to the ground and you used Igni to burn the corpse.
“Best go and cleanse your home. Can’t risk anything else catching wind and invading.” Your boots crunched over the loose dirt the only sound in the area aside form the crackling of the fire. Best to get the hell out of the area before the smell drove you away or lured hungry predators looking for a quick meal. Though, you couldn’t figure what creature would think charred grave hag flesh a pleasant meal. You entered the dwelling and a faint call caught your attention. Your longsword was in your hand in an instant as you scanned the room. Huddled in the corner was a… Human? You sheathed the sword and stalked over to the man who held up his hands in front of his face.
“Just do it quickly!!! Go ahead! But I taste terrible!!” A sigh escaped your lips as you took in the man cowering on the floor. The cloth he wore had to be expensive as the stitching was fine and the thread appeared gold. His breeches were tight and well made to fit his fit frame. Perhaps the nobility participated in physical training, you weren’t too fussed to find out. Your eyes roamed over his boots and saw they were not worn from travel or battle. They alighted on the lute and instantly your demeanor soured. A bard, just my luck. I’d prefer the grave hag.
“I’m not going to eat you.” He lowered his hands and blue eyes met yours. The shade was a rarity, it matched the shade of the sky at noontide. Strange, you didn’t think humans could possess that shade. You crouched down until you were eye level with him.
“You’re not going to eat me?” You shook your head as you worked at the bindings on his wrists, soon the cloth strips fell away from his skin. The angry red grooves had you wincing but now the man was free. He could take care of himself, maybe. You sighed as most bards you encountered were pompous pricks that cared only to inflate their own ego. They knew nothing of survival or battle, they just chose to sing about it amidst ale and fine food.
“No. I don’t care for the flesh of humans.” Sarcasm put an edge to your tone but he didn’t miss it. Relief swept his face as he grinned up at you.
“Well that’s great! The name is Oboro Shirakumo! Who do I have to thank for saving me?” You sighed and straightened. You gave him your name which he rolled off his tongue. “I like it. It suits you!” He grinned and looked around frantically. “My lute!” You pointed to the corner and the delighted sound that left his lips almost had you smiling. Almost.
“Why were you there in the hag’s company?” He tucked his lute back around his body before he straightened his tunic and dusted his breeches. He was a tall bastard. You sensed irritation simmering in the faint aura he gave off.
“Not by choice!” He held up a finger towards you which only earned him mild interest. “I was traveling with a group, may they rest in peace, and we were ambushed by whatever that was. Did you say a grave hag?” You gave him a brief nod and he shuddered at the mention of it. “I shall count myself lucky then. We were traveling and stopped here to rest for the night. Then that thing attacked us each night. I was next but I don’t know why it didn’t eat me.”
“Hmm.” You didn’t want to comment on that. Perhaps the grave hag disliked the taste of bards. You had no clue. Though the idea of a grave hag turning up its nose at bard flesh was an amusing one. “If you are alright now, I shall take my leave.”
“Wait! Wait!” You turned your head as his hand grabbed your arm with his fingers digging in desperately. Irritation flared briefly in your chest before you tamped it out. “I shall pay you handsomely if you can escort me to the nearest city.”
“No.” You shrugged off his hold to his utter shock.
“What do you mean no?” He stood in front of you with his hands crossed over his chest. “You did hear that I will pay you to take me.”
“I heard you. Doesn’t matter how much you pay me. I will not take you into the city.” You stepped out into the night air and blew out a breath as the fire had died down. Only ashes remained of the creature that haunted the area. The townsfolk were likely to be appeased, you doubted they’d be happy, no one was happy these days.
“Then take me as close as you can! I must get back to the city!” He wasn’t giving up which only annoyed you. There was something about him that tugged at your mind. No martial skills you figured. Those soft hands had probably never seen a sword in his life. The man was a sitting snack in the area and no doubt would draw more creatures from hiding. Causing more chaos and work for you. You had your own mission to finish but getting more work wasn’t part of that. Irritation buzzed along your nerves and you grumbled. In the end you made your decision on that gut feeling you had that this man would die without you and for the first time in a long time, you had an attack of conscience.
“I’m not going into the city but I will take you as far as a half day’s ride from one. There’s a town nearby that you can purchase fare from.” His eyes lit up and he cheered before doing a little jig. It was honestly one of the most amusing things you’d seen lately that the laugh escaped before you covered it with a cough.
“I heard that! You can’t hide that laugh from me.” His smile wasn’t dimmed one bit by your glare at him. “Thank you! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the escort. Though, will anyone else be joining us?”
“No. I travel alone now.” You whistled and the sound of hooves reached you as your horse came running back. Your hand ran over his neck and massaged to ease his fear as he nosed at your hair. “Get on.”
“What?” Oboro stared at you in surprise. His blue eyes blinked owlishly before he pointed to your giant destrier. “That is not a horse!”
“Don’t make me repeat myself. Get on the horse.” He huffed but managed to get up in the saddle after a few failed attempts. “Tell me you’ve ridden a horse before.”
“Of course I have! Just not one this big before.” You shook your head and started walking towards the exit of the clearing. “Wait, it’s nighttime! That’s when the monsters come out!” Oboro’s voice had just the slightly tremble in it.
“I know.” You answered simply.
“I see you’re going to be an excellent conversationalist on this trip.” He sighed and crossed his arms as he sat back on the saddle. Your horse gave a loud snort which amused you. “Tell me something.” You briefly glanced back at him as you kept stride with the horse.
“What is it?”
“What are you?” That startled you. Not that you exactly hid what you were, that was too difficult. The mutations weren’t subtle but neither did they alert the vicinity to your presence. To the well educated a quick glance was all they needed to have your name on their lips.
“What do you think I am?” Best to get the preconceived notions out of the way.
“Hmm. A seasoned warrior for one.” He grasped his chin as he thought about what else. “Wait a second. Let me see your eyes again.” You sighed and turned your gaze back to him. The color left his face as he saw them. Eyes with narrow pupils just like a cat. One of the few telltale signs of what your kind was.
“A. A.” He stumbled over his words and you decided to put him out of his misery.
