#injured geralt
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there is absolutely no heterosexual explanation for the entirety of Jaskiers stay in brokilon
#‘’i am walking into danger to see my injured friend and if u won’t let me see him that’s fine i’ll sit here and wait’s#‘’while i do i will sing a song about love and preserverience’’#THE WAY HE SHIFTED FROM TYPICAL TEASE TO UTTER DEVISTATIOM WHEN HE FORST SAW HOW BAD IT WAS#HOLDING HIS HAND WHILE THEY HEALED HIM#that man is so down bad for that witcher#twn#witcher spoilers#twn s3 spoilers#thingywritesthingies#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geraskier
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Kiss, Please..
He woke
to the smell of grass
and flowering trees
and sunlight
on his face.
Jask?
Geralt struggled to sit up
but strong hands
held him down.
Was that Jaskier?
Was Jaskier
strong enough
to hold him
down?
He must have been hit
hard.
A soft
relieved
sigh.
Jaskier.
(Geralt knew
his sighs)
Stay down
please.
Whatever you were
fighting—
Alghoul.
Geralt winced
at the pain
in his head.
—knocked you
a good one
and you lost
a lot of blood.
I tried
to get you to swallow some…
Swallow...
but you wouldn’t take anything
while you were unconscious.
Not even water.
You up for it now?
Geralt nodded,
groaned.
He hurt.
Easy now
darling.
Jaskier tipped the potion
into Geralt’s mouth.
It tasted foul
but he could feel
the effects
almost
immediately.
Kiss.
Even low speech
hurt;
his throat
felt like he’d been swallowing
rocks
instead of
potions.
(had he been screaming?)
Kiss?
Jaskier’s voice
was an octive
higher
than usual.
The potion.
Geralt fought
to keep from smiling.
Jaskier searched
the saddlebag
for the Kiss.
Right.
The potion.
Kiss.
Of course.
You Witchers
and your sense of
humour…
The Kiss
was almost
as bad
as the Swallow
but he felt it working,
surging through his veins.
A little stronger
he caught
Jaskier
by the hand.
Widened his eyes
the smallest bit.
(Jaskier would notice)
Now the
other
kiss,
bard.
He felt better
already.
NaPoWriMo day 22.1 - geralt/jaskier, kiss
#lirael writes#napowrimo 2024#geralt x jaskier#witcher potions#(and a bad joke)#fandom poetry#injured geralt#fluff
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Y'all would not believe the situations I can put ocs in. Rotate them in my brain microwave.
#jasper rambles#the current sleeping fanfic is my witcher oc gwenna getting attacked by bandits and left for dead only to be rescued by her bestie eskel#and then upon the healer saving her life they realize they gotta head up to kaer morhen Now before the ppath gets too risky w the weather#and gwenna can't reasonably get up. luckily guess who just arrived on their way to kaer morhen? lambert and aiden. eskel is distrustful but#gwenna is like “so THIS is Lambert's cat” and lambert is fake grumpy abt it and then they all bond getting up the mountain and despite lambe#rts grumbling hes prolly abt as worried as eskel abt gwennas wellbeing bc unfortunately hes grown to see this woman as family over the last#decade plus of her wintering with them. aiden and gwenna bond so easily and trade stories and such. they get up the mountain and lambert and#aiden get a moment to breathe before vesemirs intereogation bc he can tell gwenna is injured. she brushes it off by telling him he can give#her a full check up AFTER theyre all settled in. by this point vesemir keeps supplies that are more specifically for helping humans on hand#thanks to her first ever winter w them in which she broke her leg. i just. love them so much <3#no clue where it falls on any sort of canon timeline. books or show. but 🤷#i think itd be cute if gwenna is there the winter geralt brings ciri up for the first time
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Here's another old injured!jaskier/sick!Geralt . This was probably my shortest little drabble but I just reread it and remembered it fondly.
Taking your own advice
"If you knew when to shut your mouth, Jaskier, this wouldn't have happened", The Witcher reasoned.
The Bard in question lay prone on a spread of furs before a fire as the pair rested from another long days journey. He groaned and turned his head to face the fire and the Witcher beyond.
" and if YOU were doing your job, that Nekker wouldn't have had a chance", Jaskier huffed indignantly, cranky with discomfort.
A dark look passed over the Witcher's face as he closed himself to the conversation and turned his attention instead to cleaning some of the nekker guts off his gear. A silence grew between them punctuated only by the crackling of the fire, Roach's soft nuzzling of the grass nearby, and the occasional scrape of a whetstone on steel
. . . . . .
Jaskier had lapsed into a fitful sleep, the ache in his shoulder proving difficult to position himself well, when he was awoken by a sound he couldn't quite place at first until it swelled suddenly with staccato desperation and Jaskier opened his eyes in time to see Geralt pull in a sharp near-silent breath, canine flashing, as he ducked carefully into an armored shoulder with a practiced movement.
Hh... Hih'tsshhuh!... Snff..
Jaskier watched with fascination as Geralt raised his head, his yellow eyes obscured by dark lashes that blearily tried to blink away a feeling that obviously had left the Witcher feeling muzzy.
"Bless you", Jaskier offered quietly as Geralt raised a hand to paw at his face.
He didn't startle, Jaskier assumed the Witcher had known the moment he had awoken by his heartbeat alone or the cadence of his breath, but he cast the bard a brief side-eye before turning into his shoulder again.
This time he convulsed twice, the first sneeze silent and contained but followed by a single sharp inhale before a louder and significantly wetter sounding... -ght! hhh!…hhHEGSHUu!
Jaskier frowned, thought about it, then sighed.
This was out of place, he couldn't remember the Witcher breaking that impressive dignified silence over a couple of sneezes before. He realized that if Geralt was perhaps, say, coming down with something, that would explain the muddled senses and the need for the bard to be silent so he could focus better. Fuck...
Jaskier had enough sense to flush with embarrassment, reconsider his attitude toward his stoic companion, before carefully venturing into unknown territory.
"Why didn't you say you were unwell?". Geralt paused and regarded the bard with a tilt of his head and a raised brow.
"Barely worth mentioning".
His voice, surprisingly huskier than normal, sinking further down into a scrape of sound that had the bard wincing with sympathy and sending a silent prayer to the Gods that he didn't catch it himself.
Jaskier huffed and gestured toward himself, " might have made the difference. I... I didn't realize".
The bard watched as Geralt swallowed around a sore throat and set his kit aside, crossing his arms and leaning back against the outcrop with a hmmm.
Jaskier fell silent again when he realized that the witcher hadn't even bothered to deny it.
Surely that alone denoted how the brooding man must feel. Jaskier felt altogether endeared and exasperated.
He thought to make a quip about it when that hazy look crept across his companions face once again, it was almost too much how Geralt seemed to set his jaw and fight it the same way he did everything else like some silent war. This one however he was rapidly losing and even Jaskier could recognize the line of embarrassment that bisected that furrowed brow.
He could rightly assume the Witcher was once again wishing the bard was anywhere but right where they were, but he could sense no actual heat behind it.
"Hih... Huh... snff.. hih' fuh-fuck.."
Jaskier sighed and braced himself as he got to his feet, taking the opportunity to move himself and the furs around the fire while the Witcher was distracted. He dumped the furs beside his ailing companion just as the sneeze that had been eluding him rose to the surface causing the Witcher to pitch to the side furthest away as it scraped along his throat. The sneeze more vocal than the others had been thus far.
Hih'Eh!... H'AESSH! Ugh...Wuh- Jaskier...wud are y-", Geralt made a face at his own congestion forgetting for a moment to admonish the bard for his proximity and tried to clear his throat to try again when Jaskier held a hand up to silence him.
"Bless you, and Take your own advice, Geralt", Jaskier said with a smile despite the overly dramatic moan that followed as he took the spot next to the Witcher, his crude stitches pulling, and dragged the other furs across their laps.
When the Witcher continued to level him with a questioning gaze as he settled the bard broke out in a laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder to brace himself as he replied.
"Shut up".
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Broken Geralt is best Geralt.
#my injured baby bird#you look fuckin haggard bb#witcher spoilers#thats right big guy you do those katas#no but seriously; i love watching him finally have to work for it#beloved has found rock bottom's basement and it looks good on him#geralt of rivia#the witcher
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I am now invested enough in the witcher (show) that im worried it wont carry to a satisfying conclusion, particularly given the whole streaming situation. I suppose I should give the books another try. Is the series finished?
#I DNFed - barely started - because the first chapter was all this random and irrelevant sex#maybe the dopamine will get me further into it this time#like#ok#spoilers the witcher season 3#geralt actually got the shit beat out of him and was injured for a significant length of time?#I hope he's properly disabled now in the show#because thats fun#im really excited for Ciri having growth and development beyond being Yen and Geralt's copycat prodigy#like hmm yes now she's getting into some real fucked up shit!#Decisions are being made! Allegiances are being made and shifting in our neutrality characters#i fucking love protective dad geralt#thats my favourite geralt#also this actor change with was liam hemsworth? was that bc of an issue with the studio?#like wasn't henry cavill going home playing video games in the armor?#idk how im gonna feel about that#mine
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For the Whumptober prompts 6 "Not realizing they're injured", 11 "Seeing double", 24 "I never knew daylight could be so violent"
Chapters: 7/7 Words: 9,053 Fandom: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & The Hansa | Geralt's Company Members, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Maria Barring | Milva, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Additional Tags: Friendship, The Hansa | Geralt's Company, Protective Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion is Missing, Bat Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Protective Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Hurt Geralt of Rivia, POV Geralt of Rivia, Geralt of Rivia Whump, Regis saves the day Summary: While the Hansa is on their journey searching for the druids of Caed Dhu, Jaskier goes missing. Geralt is worried, very worried.
They ride on through the night at a slow trot, Jaskier leaning heavily into Geralt on the skittish Roach. His head hurts horribly, but as long as he does not move or think, it is almost comfortable in the Witcher's arms. Then, eventually, Geralt deems it safe enough and calls for a halt by a little brook that runs happily through the yellowing grass of a lonely meadow. In the east, the sky is beginning to change from black to a lighter shade of blue.
Grimacing with pain, Jaskier heaves a loud groan when Geralt lowers him carefully into Cahir's and Regis's arms.
"Here, my friend, sit down against this nice old oak tree so I can have a proper look—" Regis begins as he supports the bard on one side while the possibly non-Nilfgaardian does so on the other side. Yet, he is interrupted by a loud, pained grunt.
"Fuck!" Geralt curses. Then he groans.
"What's wrong, Witcher? You aren't dying, are you?" Milva asks, taking a step toward Geralt who has just dismounted and is leaning heavily against Roach for support.
"The monster must have cut me in the leg when I got out," he grinds through gritted teeth.
"And you didn't say anything?"
"With everything that happened, I didn't realise I was injured. It's nothing anyway."
"How typical for a Witcher," Regis says, appearing next to Geralt like out of thin air. "You sit down next to your bard. I decide if it's nothing or if it needs treatment. And from the sorry state of your trouser legs, I bet my old hat that it's the latter."
Continue reading on Ao3
#whumptober2024#no.6#no.11#no.24#no.30#not realizing they're injured#seeing double#i never knew daylight could be so violent#recovery#the witcher#fic#the hansa#geralt of rivia#jaskier#emiel regis rohellec terzieff godefroy#milva barring#cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach#geralt x jaskier#hurt/comfort#jaskier whump
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bitches will watch a whole show about a man trying his very fucking hardest to avoid violence as the first option and save people and protect people and watch his struggle to be a good person by not falling back on the tactics of violence that he was taught and that the world keeps trying to hammer into him and the fact that he only fights and kills when he has exhausted all other options or when his immense efforts to talk through things and compromise and work for diplomacy have failed and go 'haha he goes hmmm all the time! he never talks!' come ON now. every motherfucker in the witcher meets geralt of rivia and they go "pleeeeeeaaaassseeee geralt of rivia be a stoic violent man and go kill this thing for me so that i can avoid my problems" and then without fail geralt sighs really hard and LAUNCHES into a paragraph-long speech on what he thinks the correct moral situation is that NOBODY in that situation wants to hear except him. BE SO FUCKING REAL WITH ME THE PROBLEM IS THAT HE TALKS TOO MUCH!!!!!!
listen i am geralt of rivia hater number one but one thing i actually CANNOT stand is when the fandom mischaracterizes him. took one look at this man who speaks very straight-forwardly and matter-of-fact and is a little recalcitrant with his words sometimes and went "haha he communicates in grunts! man who only says 'hm'!" and then won't even write him to speak in full fucking sentences. hello???? hello???????? yes the netflix show was a bad influence on everybody because they were trying too hard to depict geralt as a stoic manly badass but we CANNOT let that distract us from the REAL thing to make fun of geralt for. which are his Constant Unprovoked Monologues
#talking with filavandrel. talking with calanthe. talking with stregobor. talking with renfri. talking with yennefer.#talking with the dryads. talking with nivellen.#look me in the fucking eyes right now and repeat after me. This Man Uses Complete Sentences#it's like people forget that this series is not based entirely around fight scenes... those are just occasional...#the real basis of the story is dialogue... dialogue primarily spoken by geralt of rivia...#never forget what they took from us (netflix) (fanfic writers)#head in my fucking hands. anyway i want to put geralt in a dryer just to hear him thunk around in there#and i hope it seriously injures him. i hope he gets concussed.#the witcher#geralt of rivia
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you gotta be fucking kidding me. for real
#AND HIS INJURED EAR !!!!!!!!#different game… same playing cards…#excerpt#c: reynevan#tag: geralt#book: lux perpetua#hussite trilogy#DUDE i need a fucking tag for their trio of friendship#it will NOT be ‘no you cant go back to constantinople’ i swear
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₊˚꒷꒦︶⊹ The Witcher's Witch₊︶꒷꒦︶
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader.
[ Master list ]
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Summary: Being rescued by the Witcher after being accused of being a Witch was the last thing you expected in life. But it looks like kindness can go a long way if shown to the right people.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Warnings: Mention of murder, beast slaying, taming wild animals, witch hunting, the reader is beaten up and was about to get burned alive.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
Word count: 3.3k
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
The Witcher was finally in town, it was pretty clear from how the people were crowding towards a certain white haired man who stood besides a horse.
The crowd was sneering at the Witcher, calling him names and yelling at him, as if the Witcher was nothing but a mere dirty dog in their eyes. The Mayor of our town finally made an appearance, making the angry people go silent as they all waited for their "king" to speak.
"Ah, Witcher! We have been waiting for your arrival." The mayor chuckled, walking towards the Witcher, who stood tall amongst the crowd, clearly used to the sneering and insults of the people.
"There is an unknown monster lurking in the forest near our town, it had already murdered two people brutally. We need you to take care of the monster." The Mayor spoke as the people continued to glare at the Witcher. Some mothers even went as far as to try and 'shield' their kid from him as if he was the monster that would tear apart their children.
You stood slightly far from the crowd, watching everything occur as you scoffed at the hostility of the people towards the Witcher.
"They are acting as if he can't just kill them all in an instant..." You mumbled, chuckling darkly.
"You better be as good as they say you are, Witcher." Someone hissed, staring at the Witcher in disdain as they tried to stare him down. The Witcher ignored them all as he looked at the Mayor, nodding silently as the Mayor handed him a bag filled with coins.
"Where is the beast?" Asked the Witcher, making you sigh as the people started to talk about the beast all at once. Half of them were made up while the other half were useless.
Finally, the mayor explained everything that they knew about the beast, and where it attacks. You listened intensely, still standing away from the crowd as you stared at the ground in focus.
The Witcher nodded along, before he started to walk in the direction of the forest that was now forbiddened from entering for the safety of the people. You quickly walked in the opposite direction before entering an alley that lead towards the forest as you tried to track down the Witcher.
"Stop following me." A gruff voice said from behind you, making you jump as you turned around to face the dark and tall figure in front of you.
"Oh! It's you..." You sighed in relief, making the Witcher frown.
"Um... Mister... Uh.. sir? Whichever you prefer, I have some information about the beast that might help you." You chuckled nervously, looking around to see if someone was spying on you. You might get in trouble if you were to be seen with the Witcher alone.
"Speak."
You glanced at the Witcher before nodding, "Well... If you think the attack is being done by some sort of animal like a wolf, it's not true. It's not a wolf." You said quickly.
"What makes you think that?"
"W-well-... A wolf was injured because of the said beast and the wounds didn't look like it was from a wolf fight either so..." You mumbled, trying not to act suspicious.
The Witcher stared at you silently. You were acting suspicious and it was evident by the way you talked that you knew more than you told him. The Witcher took a step towards you, making you look up, still standing your ground nervously.
Witcher frowned at your weird behaviour, you were scared but not because of him, but because of something else. Something else was making you nervous.
He opened his mouth to speak before a sudden growl intrupted him, making both of them tense up as he grabbed his sword, stepping in front of you protectively. A wolf stood before them, glaring and growling at the Witcher, ready to pounce.
"Stay back-" The Witcher mumbled was unheard as you stood in front of him, glaring at the wolf.
"Sky!" You hissed, still standing in front of the Witcher. It would've amused him if they weren't in a tense situation. You, a young girl, perhaps in your mid 20s, standing before the Witcher with no weapons, as the Witcher behind you towered you with his height. You looked tiny compared to his frame, both height and muscle wise.
The Witcher felt annoyed at your pathetic attempt to tame a wild wolf, as if the wolf would suddenly transform into a domesticated puppy and obey your every command.
The wolf continued to growl but it slowly started to approach you, the wolf stance becoming slightly relaxed as it stared at you and your hand that was outstretched in front of you. The Witcher looked at the exchange in slight confusion, his expression was still stoic but he felt confused.
"Sky, come on, what did I tell you about jumping in front of guests like a beast? Hmm?" You mumbled as you patted the wolf, the wolf's tail wagging behind him.
"You... Tamed the injured wolf..?" Asked the Witcher, eyeing them warily. It's not everyday that someone saves a wolf, let alone tame them.
"I would prefer 'befriended' and yes, I did. He is a sweetheart. That is also why I wanted to warn you that this wolf is not the beast. Oh! And the beast also does not live here. It lives deeper into the woods, this area is just the edge of the forest. The people... They forgot to mention something important." You glanced at him as you stood up, the wolf standing besides you in his fully height, his black fur and tall height made it look intimidating, the wolf looked strong and but the bandages around his torso also did not go unnoticed by the Witcher, making him believe the story that you told him about patching up a wounded wolf even though it sounded bizarre and made up.
"What is it?"
You bite your lips, looking at the forest, deep in thoughts before finally speaking.
"The town people provoked the beast. Some drunkards wanted to prove to the people that there was no such beast residing in the depths of the woods, so they went ahead despite the warnings and... Well, only their mangled up bodies made it back here. That's why the people think that the beast resides in the edge of the forest and not deep within."
The Witcher's frown, staring at you for a while before speaking.
"They knew that there was a beast?"
You nodded, "The beast is older than most of us, the tales have been circulating amongst the people since past few generations, it can probably be dated back to the generation of our grandparents, something similar happened but this time, the beast is... More angry. It didn't kill people before like it did now, or at least that's what the people say."
The Witcher sighed at your words. This was more work than he intended to do. If the beast was as old as you said it was, then it wouldn't die without putting up a great fight and he was in no position to get into a full-on battle in his tired state.
"Sir..? You look tired, and I doubt the villagers asked you to rest or offered you food, would you..." You trailed off, laughing awkwardly as you stared at the Wolf, Sky, instead of the Witcher as you continued in a quiet manner, "Like something to eat?"
The Witcher froze, not expecting an act of kindness, especially from someone like you. He stared at you suspiciously, thinking that you had ulterior motives to offer him something like that. You looked at him in alarm, as if sensing his chain of thoughts as you waved your hands in front of you. "I don't need anything in return, i promise! It's just... You look tired and hungry."
The Witcher didn't say anything, simply staring at you for a solid minute before nodding his head along with a stoic, "hm."
"Um.. sir? Where did you leave your horse?" You asked suddenly.
"It's outside the woods."
"Ah... You can bring your horse in, this part of the woods is safe and Sky isn't going to hurt your horse, I can assure you that much." You smiled at him, the Wolf still standing guard besides you.
"How do you know it's safe here?" The Witcher rolled his eyes.
"Well... I live here. My cottage is just a few minutes walk away from here."
"You... Live in the middle of the woods?"
"It's the edge and yes, I prefer living here." That made the Witcher frown his eyebrows in confusion as he walked beside you to get his horse.
"Why? Isn't the town safer?"
You stayed silent for a while before chuckling softly. "Perhaps. But I am not too fond of the people there." The Witcher could see why, so he stayed silent and walked towards his horse.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
You provided food and a place for the Witcher to rest, which he found weird and bizarre but didn't complain about. You insisted that the Witcher rest for at least a day before he went to hunt down the beast, saying that it will give him more benefit in battle if he is well rested and fed. The horse, which you learnt was called Roach, was spoiled rotten too. It looked like you had a liking towards animals and insects, finding them adorable and taking care of them and for some reason, animals seem to like you too, even the most wild animals liked you and it was evident with how the wild wolf acted like a domesticated dog in front of you. The food you prepared for the Witcher was amazing, and the spare room was also comfortable enough for the Witcher to sleep in but you insisted that he slept in your room instead, that the spare room wasn't that clean and that you would sleep in the spare room instead. The Witcher tried to decline politely but you were stubborn and he ended up getting the best sleep he ever has in your bed while you slept in the spare room.
Your whole cottage was filled with plants, flowers and books. The plants weren't everywhere but the ones you did have inside were too pretty and went well with your theme. Your cottage had a cozy feeling to it, the aroma of tea and lavender was always present, along with some books lying here and there. It made the cottage feel like a home that the Witcher didn't have.
The Witcher thanked you before venturing off to hunt the beast, giving you a small, awkward smile before leaving. You waved enthusiastically at him, wishing him luck before rushing after Sky, who has decided to run after a rabbit.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
When the Witcher came back, the cottage was a mess, making him frown as he couldn't find you or Sky. It looked like you left somewhere in a hurry as there was still uncooked food on the table, half done and some books were scattered on the ground.
The Witcher went towards the town, the head of the beast was hanging from his hand. The battle against the beast wasn't easy, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
The town was filled with commotion, people gathering around a tall tree, yelling at something or rather, someone.
As he walked closer, he could hear what they were saying clearly.
"Burn the Witch! Burn her! She was the one who brought the beast to the town!" Someone yelled venomously, making the Witcher frown his eyebrows as he walked towards the crowd. The Mayor took immediate notice of his presence as the people stopped yelling.
"Ah! Witcher! You are back and you brought the beast's head with you." The Witcher paid the Mayor zero attention as he stared at the scene in front of him. Someone was bounded to the tree with thick ropes, blood pooling underneath them as it dropped from the wound on their arm. It looked like a young girl, which made the Witcher slightly nervous. He couldn't see her face, as her head was down, her hair covering her face. The only thing that made it evident that she was alive was the quick motion of her chest falling up and down as she breath heavily.
The Mayor, displeased with the Witcher's ignorance towards his words, turned his attention to the girl instead. He stepped closer to the girl and gripped her hair, making her wince as he forced her to look up.
Witcher's breath hitched as he saw your pained face, staring directly at him before looking at the Mayor in fear.
"The beast you called upon is long dead now, Witch. You have no one to save you now." The Mayor hissed, staring at your face as he continued to hold your hair in a tight grip, making you wince.
You were already weak from the beatings and the lack of food, your head throbbing painfully under the harsh Sun. You were dehydrated, hungry, wounded and scared. Oh, you were so so scared.
A lot has happened in the span of just four days after your last meeting with the Witcher.
You flinched when someone threw another stone at you again, wincing at the sharp pain that erupted from your temple, where the stone landed, making it bleed.
You couldn't even look at the Witcher, humiliation filled your body as you stared at the ground, willing yourself to not cry. You have yet to let the tears flow and you want to keep it that way. You want to keep some of your dignity, if there was even any left.
"What's going on?" You closed your eyes as you heard Witcher ask the Mayor. You didn't want him to think that you were someone evil, but you weren't sure if the Witcher will believe you over the Mayor's word or the people's word. You just silently hoped that they won't answer his question but your hopes died quickly as the Mayor began to tell him what happened.
"This girl, this witch, is the one that unleashed the very beast you hold in your hands. She was seen with a wolf, commanding him to attack innocents! She can put animals and beasts under her spell, making them do whatever she please." The Mayor spit out, glaring at you as you kept your eyes closed and your head low.
"Just look at her! She has been punished but she has yet to utter a word of apology or even a tear in remorse! She is a threat to the town and the people!"
"Burn her!"
"Kill her!"
Were the words that followed soon after the Mayor stopped talking, making the Witcher step in front of you protectively, just like how he did before when he saw Sky as a threat.
"Witcher, what are you doing?!" The Mayor fumed, staring at the Witcher in anger and annoyance.
"Keep your hands away from the girl." He said quietly, his sword already out, the beast's head thrown somewhere on the ground. No one dared to put up a fight against the Witcher, everyone was too cowardly to try and fight him.
"The Witch has put you under a spell too, Witcher!" The Mayor exclaimed as the people started to insult both of you.
You whimpered, staring at the people and the Witcher in fear.
"What good will it do to you even if you safe her? She is a damned witch that should rot in hell for her crimes!" The people agreed, trying to step closer to her before the Witcher pointed his sword towards them, making them step back in fear.
"I will keep her."
That made the whole town silent as you stared at the Witcher in confusion and shock.
He couldn't let them kill you, not when you were the only one that treated him like a human and showed him kindness, it pained him to see you in such a state and he will not let you get harmed. You took care of him, and it was now his turn to do so.
He gripped his sword tightly, glaring at whoever dared to step towards them.
"Give me the girl." He hissed, his gaze making everyone scared, some even rushing away to their home to not face his wrath.
The air was tense, people stared at you and the Witcher with scared and disgusted expression while the Mayor was deep in thought. The town was known for its cowardly people and after watching the Witcher walk with the head of a beast in his hand, nobody wanted to fight him.
"What will we get in return if we let the girl go unpunished?" The Mayor asked, smirking as he stared at the Witcher.
"You can keep your coins." He grumbled, throwing the pouch of coins towards the Mayor that he got as a payment when he first came here to slay the beast.
The Mayor checked the pouch before letting them go, commanding people to go inside their houses as they rushed away.
"You are lucky, or else today would've been your last day, witch." The mayor muttered venomously before leaving them be.
You flinched when Witcher's blade cut throw the thick ropes, all at once as you stumbled forward. He caught you, making you wince as it made you put some pressure on your wounds. The Witcher carried you towards your cottage, but not before the Mayor warned them that they had to leave before noon, and if they failed to do so, they will both be punished and killed. The threat made you tense, as you tried to make yourself as small as possible in his arms as he walked you towards your cottage.
"Where's sky?" He asked, trying to break the silence.
"I made him leave. The... The people saw him and they would've hunted him down or hurt him..." You mumbled, sniffling a bit as he sat you down on your bed.
He nodded in understanding, before cleaning yours wounds.
"You should go wash yourself and pack." You glanced at him, wondering what he meant by 'pack'.
"We need to leave. Make sure to only pack the necessary things like clothes and some food." He muttered, staring at you.
You looked scared, and timided, not like the lively girl he met that day that took care of him. It made his heart clench painfully for some reason.
"Oh... A-are you... Taking me in?" You asked slowly, stuttering a bit.
He nodded silently, walking out of your room to let you bath and change. Your voice suddenly made him stop.
"You... You can use the bathroom in the spare room to freshen up too!" He smiled a bit as he heard you, making his way towards the spare room.
After you were done packing and ready to leave, you both stood in front of the Mayor at the gate of the town, you stood behind Witcher, trying to hide from anyone's view, the Mayor stared at you both as you began to walk away from the town, making sure that you both were out of the town.
After walking beside Witcher and Roach, you glanced at him as you handed him a pouch with gold coins.
"U-um... I know what you did for me can never be paid by coins, but... I still want to thank you and repay you for saving me and giving up the coins you got as a payment." You mumbled quietly.
"Keep them." He grumbled, walking towards you.
"Do you know how to get on a horse?" You shook your head, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while doing so.
"Let me help you." You nodded as he grabbed your waist gently, trying to avoid any wounds as he helped you on the horse. It made your heart beat quicken with how close you both were.
"Thank you, Sir."
"Geralt." You looked at him in confusion.
"My name is Geralt, just call me by my name."
You stared at him in shock before smiling wildly, "Okay, Geralt!"
And for some reason, Geralt loved the way you said his name.
꒷꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒦꒷︶꒷︶꒷꒦꒷︶꒷꒷꒦꒷︶꒦ ͘ ˖ ⊹
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Long ago, Jaskier was not human—he was a unicorn, immortal and rare. But that all changed when he was cursed, stripped of his true form, and turned into a man.
At first, it seemed like a loss. As a unicorn, Jaskier had been powerful, timeless… but emotionless. Immortality, without feeling, was a lonely thing.
Yet as a human, Jaskier discovered the beauty of emotion. He learned to laugh, to rage, to sing his heart out—and most of all, he learned to love. His heart belonged to Geralt, a love that brought joy, heartbreak, and eventually, reunion.
But when Jaskier hears that Geralt is gravely injured and Ciri is missing, he seeks out Brokilon Forest for answers. There, he learns the truth: he can save Geralt—but only if he returns to his unicorn form.
To do so means giving up his humanity—and with it, the memory of what it meant to love.
Even so, Jaskier agrees.
Because even if he forgets, love is worth remembering
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The Princess and The Wolf || PART 1 || Geralt of Rivia x Reader
Summary: A look inside the complicated love story between the runaway princess and the lone wolf that saved her.
Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, really bittersweet, heavy narration and not much dialogue, female reader (use of she/her pronouns//reader is a princess), mentions of blood and injuries (reader heals Geralt’s wounds), my shitty titles (I’m so bad at it, I’m so sorry)
English is not my first language
Word count: 5000
Notes: Look, I was in the mood for writing something cute and fluffy and magical (but also it's Geralt so it as to be angsty). I know those are probably not the words that come to your mind when you think of Geralt, but let me change your mind! Also I love writing healers/nature witches. Can you tell my fav character as a kid was Flora from Winx Club?
This is my first time writing something like this (as in this style of narrative and for this character in particular) so be gentle!
PART 2 || PART 3
Geralt was not used to feeling that way. In his many years of living on this earth, he had never missed anyone the way he missed her. He was a lone wolf who, despite having his pack, enjoyed traveling from town to town with his horse as his only companion. He enjoyed the silence and tranquility, and did not tend to miss home too much —finding that his annual visits in the winter were more than enough to catch up with his brothers while healing his wounds.
However, he did miss her when he was traveling. He missed feeling the warm touch of her skilled hands on his wounds as she healed him. He missed waking up to the sound of her laughter, talking to her cat as she prepared breakfast. He even missed her scolding and the look of concern she gave him every time he arrived at the door of her cabin hidden in the forest, injured. She made him feel special, often occupying his thoughts and dreams. He knew what it was, but refused to call it by name —if he did, it became real and he didn't know if he was ready for that.
Such was his longing to see her that he was almost happy to be wounded in battle, finding the perfect excuse to show up at her door once again. His wounds were deep, the beast's venom slowly spreading through his system. Were it not for the fact that he was close to her home, Geralt was fairly certain he would not have reached her in time. His healing skills were limited and only served to make his journey to the hut more bearable. Yet, the closer he got to her, the less his body ached. The promise of her company alone was enough to cure his afflictions.
Geralt was weak when he arrived at her door. From the way her natural cheerful expression turned into a worried grimace when she saw him on the other side of the wood, it was safe to assume he was not looking good. She rushed him to bed, asking him a thousand questions as she paced back and forth, gathering the necessary herbs and potions to treat his wounds. He answered no more than necessary, giving her just enough information to treat him and sparing her the details of his journey.
He was distracted, his mind clouded by the lack of blood and the poison spreading through his body, but also by the sweet floral scent that surrounded him. It was a perfume he could only describe as the very essence of her, a mixture of jasmine, roses and a hint of vanilla that followed her everywhere, leaving a special scent in the air that assaulted the witcher's nostrils, rendering him powerless.
"Drink this," she told him as she offered him a vial of a pale green liquid. It was a potion that would help with the poison, she explained, though he needed no reason to obey her. Geralt trusted her completely and would have drank anything she offered without question.
"Try to hold still, this might sting a little." She warned him, pushing his clothes aside so she could treat the deep gash in his chest. She smeared her fingers with a paste that had a peculiar odor, rubbing it over her hands to warm it before directing them to the wound. Geralt was met with a burning sensation that spread from his wound to the rest of his chest as soon as her fingers made contact with his skin. He let out a grunt, fighting the spasms of his muscles to allow her to work comfortably. However, the burning was soon replaced by a sensation of pleasant warmth as she uttered an incantation in the ancient tongue.
He concentrated on the harmonious sound of her voice, letting the words transport him back to that first time they had found themselves in a similar situation. He had been hired by the king to assassinate the beast that had killed the princess. It was said that it prowled the forest after sunset, it was there that the young girl had met her fatal fate. Her love for nature and the long walks under the moonlight was what had ultimately made her an easy prey for that monster. Geralt did not retain the specific details of that story, only what was useful to analyze his enemy. Had he done so, he might have realized that there were strange things in the story that would make any Witcher suspicious. And perhaps then he would not have been so surprised when he found the princess very much alive and well, wandering through the forest alone.
"Please, don't make me go back there." She had begged him after explaining that she had taken advantage of the beast's convenient appearance to escape from her home. "There's nothing waiting for me back there, only a future of unhappiness and subjugation to a man that doesn't respect me."
"I was hired to kill a beast and that's all I intend to do." Was his reply. He was more than ready to continue on his way, to leave her behind to sort out her fate while he dealt with what he had been hired to do, but the princess did not give him the opportunity. She begged for his help to escape from there, she didn't care where he took her as long as he got her as far away from her kingdom as possible. Her escape had not been planned, but a last minute decision that had not allowed her to pack supplies or even steal a horse from the stable. Still, she had been able to travel a fairly long way on foot, but it was evident that she could not continue like this much longer.
"I can't pay you in coin," she told him. "But I can make sure you survive your battle."
Geralt felt sorry for the young woman and was going to help her without asking for anything in return. He really doubted that she had anything valuable to offer him. He was a Witcher, an assassin highly trained in both combat and the arts of magic, tools he used to keep himself alive in the high-risk situations he lived in on a regular basis. However, his mercy proved useful after the battle, when the young princess demonstrated her healing abilities.
His wounds were deep, he was tired and his skin was painted with the reddish sticky liquid that ran through the beast's veins. But still, he was able to crawl to safety where she waited for him with his horse Roach. When she saw him approaching on the horizon she jumped to her feet, hands full of herbs she had gathered in preparation for that moment. Geralt could see nothing but a halo of light in the distance, a figure of hope running towards him with hair flying in the wind as it called his name.
He collapsed against a tree trunk, his breath hitching as the world around him became blurry and dark. He was not unconscious, but neither was he able to process what was happening around him. His memories of that moment were blurry, like a dream slipping from his mind upon awakening. The only thing he remembered clearly was a sweet female voice calling him back to life as soft hands caressed his skin, spreading their comforting warmth inside him.
Geralt had felt peace for the first time in a long while as her hands worked their magic on him, just as he felt at this very moment as her fingers caressed his skin once again. It always happened, her touch alone flooded his insides with peace and tranquility. Maybe that was why he missed her so much, maybe that was why he found himself visiting her for the simplest injuries that even he could heal. Unlike other healers, she was the only one who could calm his tormented soul, the only one who could quiet his thoughts and remove all traces of bitter negativity from his heart.
"Rest." He heard her whisper in his ear and as much as he wanted to, he didn't have the strength to open his eyes and look at her one more time. Geralt knew he was tired, but only now, in the quiet of her company and wrapped in the warmth of her body, did he realize just how much.
When he opened his eyes again it was morning. The rays of sunlight streaming through the window touched his face in a warm caress. His pupils were forced to adjust to the light as he opened his eyes, narrowing to almost two slits identical to those of the black cat resting beside him. The animal meowed contentedly as he shifted between the sheets —letting out a grunt of pain at the heaviness of his muscles. He stroked the cat as it purred at him, scratching its head and behind its ears as he knew it liked, before making an effort to get out of bed. His body ached and he still felt tired, but given what he had been through, he was lucky to be alive.
Geralt heard the sweet sound of the young woman's voice echoing down the hallway like a melodious murmur that filled his heart with joy. It came from the garden, so that was where he went. He found her having a conversation with Roach, brushing the horse's mane while complaining about him to the animal as if it could talk back. They were harmless comments that he knew she didn't mean, though he'd heard them in the past —complaints about his recklessness and lack of responsibility as a horse owner were never lacking. She was especially fond of animals, so she loved to talk to his horse as if he were a human being. She did it with her cat as well, and with any animal that crossed her path. Geralt found it entertaining, though a bit excessive —especially when they traveled together and she made him stop every so often to pet and chat with every rabbit and squirrel in their path.
"What are you doing out of bed? You need to rest!" She scolded him as soon as her eyes landed on him. As firm as her gaze was, he could see concern rather than anger or annoyance reflected in them.
"I would have stayed in bed if I hadn't felt the need to come out and defend my good name." He played along, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly upward in an almost imperceptible movement. "I can't have you filling Roach's head with lies about me."
"They are not lies!" She grumbled, folding her arms in exaggerated annoyance. "You are reckless and you don't give poor Roach enough attention." At her words, the animal thumped its front left paw against the ground as if it understood what she had said and agreed. Geralt huffed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.
"You already turned her against me." She laughed and it was like music to his ears, a melodious tone that awakened happiness within him.
"I don't have to, she is a smart creature." She fired back, giving the horse a couple of gentle pets before setting aside what she was doing to focus her attention on him. "But seriously, you need to get back in bed."
"I'm fine." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the truth either. She looked at him steadily and Geralt knew she thought she looked intimidating, but with the way the light of the rising sun framed her figure and the gentle breeze moving her hair, he saw nothing more than a forest fairy. The most beautiful and innocent fairy he had ever seen. He was tempted to challenge her just to tease her and make her grumble. She looked adorable when she pointed an accusatory finger at him believing that something she did or said could intimidate the Witcher. In the end he decided not to do so and instead accompanied her back into the house, though he did not lie down again, but sat with her at the kitchen table.
She insisted on preparing breakfast on her own, arguing that he was her guest and that he was badly injured, so Geralt had the opportunity to admire her as she moved about the room, humming under her breath melodies he did not recognize. It made him genuinely happy to see her acting so freely around him, thinking about how far their relationship had come. When he had first met her, she was far from the confident, free spirit she was now. She was quiet and reserved, barely asking him questions from time to time to fill the void of silence and always apologizing for everything.
It was more than mere distrust of a stranger, Geralt could see in her eyes that she was trapped inside herself, a cocoon of fears and insecurities that trapped in its intricate net the beautiful butterfly that lurked within. She would show her true colors from time to time, like when he would catch her talking to Roach when she thought he was sleeping, or when she would make them stop to help a wounded animal. But she always apologized immediately afterwards, as if she realized too late that she had done something wrong, something she wasn't supposed to do. It made Geralt wonder what kind of life she had left behind when she ran away from home.
He was not a man of many words and was used to traveling alone and in silence, accompanied only by the chirping of birds and the crunching of dry leaves under Roach's hooves, but when it came to her he felt a strange need to hear her speak. Perhaps it was the harmonious tone of her voice, or maybe the fact that he could tell she needed to express herself, but he didn't mind when she rambled absentmindedly as they traveled, putting into words every thought that crossed her mind.
"I was never meant to be a princess, no matter what my blood says." She had confessed to him one afternoon as they walked through the forest. "The traditions, the politics, the expectations... I was never good at any of that."
"Is that why you ran away?" His question took her by surprise. He barely spoke to her so she assumed he wasn't listening to her most of the time. When she turned to look at him she found his yellow eyes fixed on her, making her feel small under his intense gaze.
"I wanted to be free." She answered honestly. "I refused to live trapped inside a castle for another day, pretending to be someone I'm not, pleasing everybody but myself... I want to forge my own path, build my own destiny. I have no idea what I'm doing or if it will even work, but I owe it to myself to try."
Geralt admired her for that. She wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew what she didn't want and had had the courage to do something about it. That was why he was so glad things were going well for her. She deserved her freedom, she deserved to have the space to find herself and live her life on her terms. Her bravery had been rewarded.
"How are you feeling?" She asked him as she set a plate of food in front of him, her voice bringing him out of his thoughts.
"I'm fine."
"Are you? Or are you doing that thing you do all the time when you pretend not to need anyone's help?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, proud of herself for knowing him so well.
Geralt sighed. "I'm a bit sore and tired, but I'll live." He finally confessed.
"That's normal, you were really hurt. I'm amazed that you got here in one piece."
"You should have seen the other guy." He joked sarcastically and she rolled her eyes.
"I'm being serious, Geralt. The poison could have killed you."
"It didn't."
"Only because of your slow heartbeat, but what if next time you don't get so lucky?" The tone of the conversation suddenly changed as they looked into each other's eyes. The familiar heavy tension in the air, making it hard to breathe.
It was her greatest fear. She feared there would come a day when Geralt's wounds would be so bad that even she wouldn't be able to heal them. She feared it almost as much as never opening the door again and finding him on the other side. The thought of him dying, at home or out on the battlefield, terrified her. She knew it was stupid since he was a Witcher, a being genetically modified to face the greatest dangers, whose purpose in life was to kill monsters. She knew the smart thing to do would have been to get away from him in time, before his absence hurt her as much as it did. She knew there was no point in worrying about someone who had made peace with the idea of dying in battle, but she did it anyway. She couldn't help but fear for his safety the moment he set foot outside her home, worrying until he would eventually show up there again.
"Just... be careful." She muttered after a few seconds of silence, swallowing her emotions as a lump formed in her throat.
Geralt could see the pain in her eyes, the fear and worry shining in them clearly. He felt the need to assure her that he would be all right, but they both knew that was a lie. In his line of work one could never be sure of anything. Things could change very quickly and even he could be surprised with the cold caress of death sooner than expected. The best he could do was to assure her that he would do everything in his power to get back to her.
"I will be."
That wasn't enough to dissipate the young woman's fears, but it was enough to calm her worries for the moment. Instead of concentrating on things she couldn't control, she chose to turn her attention to the things she could. After breakfast she inspected Geralt's wounds once more to make sure they were healing properly. With the help of her magic and the speed with which the Witcher's body regenerated, the deep gash that adorned his chest was now no more than a scratch. The skin was still red and irritated, but it was in better condition than just a few hours ago. The same with the rest of the cuts and scratches that graced the rest of his body, some of which had already disappeared completely, leaving behind a slightly discolored line on the skin.
She sat beside him as she worked, rubbing a healing paste of her own creation over what was left of his wounds. She focused her energy on him, eyes glued to the skin of his chest as she let her fingers work their magic. She knew it probably wasn't necessary, given the rapid evolution of his cuts they would most likely be practically healed in a couple more hours. But she wanted to do it. She didn't like to see him hurt, even if it was something that happened regularly. He always came to her bruised and bloody, but even then she never got used to seeing him like that. She hated to see him suffer, so when he was with her she would go out of her way to heal all the wounds on his body no matter how small or insignificant. She wanted to make her home a sanctuary for him, a place free of pain and danger where they were safe to be together.
Geralt could feel her energy enveloping him, the warmth her body radiated caressing his skin delicately. The scent of her hair flooded his nostrils, filling his lungs with that sweet floral perfume that was so distinctive to him. It was intoxicating, a drug he couldn't quit. He allowed himself to get lost in the moment, enjoying the soft touch of her hands on his chest and shoulders as he admired her work. She was beautiful, like a flower full of color and life that only grew stronger with each of his visits. Her smile, a ray of sunshine that lit up the gray, cloudy sky that was his life. And her eyes... oh her eyes. Geralt could get lost in them for hours, reading in her reflection every little thought that went through her head. To him she was an open book, the most fascinating he had read in a long time.
She became slightly nervous when she looked up and met Geralt's intense gaze fixed on her. They were close, too close to each other for her not to feel intimidated under the watchful admiration of his amber orbs. And yet, she couldn't look away from him. She couldn't help but marvel at the sharp angles of his features, counting the small scars that adorned his skin as her eyes traveled down his face. Those were two traits that people normally found intimidating about him. He had the face of a reckless warrior, a lone wolf with no feelings that augured trouble. But she knew him better than that, she knew the man behind the rumors and knew there was much more to his story and his character. When she looked at him she saw more than the dangerous Witcher. She saw the man who had saved her from her terrible fate, the one she missed and longed for when he was far away, the only man who occupied her thoughts.
Geralt's eyes strayed to her lips as she caressed them with her tongue. It was an innocent act but he felt it as a temptation, a challenge he had every intention of accepting. He leaned forward, feeling her warm, slightly quickened breath colliding and mingling with his own. He held still for a moment, waiting for her to pull back and move away. When she didn't, Geralt moved a little closer to her until he felt the tip of her nose brush against his. When he looked up one last time, he noticed that she was looking at him with half lidded eyes, completely at his mercy. She was in a trance, lost in the deep amber of his eyes, with no thought in her mind but him. It was the moment they had both been waiting for, the culmination of all the tension that had built up.
But before they could join their lips in the long-awaited kiss, the sound of the cat jumping on top of the table interrupted them. The animal's meow broke the trance and she realized what was about to happen. Embarrassed, she pulled away from Geralt immediately, mumbling something about feeding the cat as she disappeared from his vision. He would be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, still longing to feel her lips on his, but perhaps it was for the best. If he kissed her he would never want to stop or leave again, and he knew that wasn't possible. His place was out there on the road with his horse as his only companion. He was not meant to stay in one place for long, his profession had taken that privilege away from him long ago.
“Your wounds are almost healed.” She stated as she returned to the room, picking up the cat and setting it down off the table. It was an excuse so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye when talking, something to occupy herself so she wouldn't think about what had just happened.
"Guess I'll be leaving tonight then." He was in no hurry to leave, he would gladly stay another week there with her if he could, but he knew that wasn't wise. He could never stay too long with her since he always feared the effects it might have. The more time he spent with her, sharing moments of domestic intimacy, the harder it was for him to get back on the road. The last time he had been there he had ended up running away in the middle of the night, knowing he couldn't leave if he had to look her in the eye and say goodbye. And now he feared that nothing had changed, so he had to get out of there before it was too late.
"I would rather you stay one more night and rest here." She said in a soft tone, trying to hide the true meaning behind her words. She didn't want him to leave, not yet. "Your physical wounds might be healing fast but don't forget that you were poisoned and you almost died. Witcher or not, that's a lot."
"I'll be fine."
"Maybe, but would it kill you to stay here one more night for my own sake? Because if you walk through that door now, I will spend the rest of my days worrying about you until I see you again." She finally worked up the courage to look at him, pleading with her eyes for him to listen to her. She knew that if he wanted to leave there was nothing she could do to stop him, so she hoped he would have mercy on her. "I just want to make sure that you're alright."
Geralt couldn't refuse her even if he wanted to, not when she was looking at him with big, bright eyes full of love. Not when her voice was almost a whisper, as if she was afraid he would hear her. He understood the feeling, the fear of admitting what he really felt. But it was easier that way. It was the best thing for both of them. Their lives were incompatible as were their personalities.
She was a nice sunny summer afternoon and he was a harsh winter night. She was a ray of sunshine that with her warm touch awakened life in everything around her and he was the cold, cruel snow that buried everything under a layer of ice. Maybe that was why he felt this inexplicable attraction to her, as if they were connected by an invisible thread that pulled him to her every time he tried to walk away. Her warmth melted the ice around him, allowing new things to blossom in the fertile soil. Only he didn't know if there was anything left under the ice that could bloom. If so, he had to be careful because her warmth, though pleasant and comforting, could lead to his doom.
Still, he ignored his brain's warnings, giving in to her pleas. They spent the day together and Geralt allowed himself to lose himself in the intimacy and domestic bliss of the moment. He indulged in the fantasy of a life by her side as he admired her dancing around the kitchen while cooking or moving among the plants as she tended to her garden, talking to the squirrels and birds that wandered by. He delighted in the sound of her voice as she called his name and enjoyed her melodious laughter.
When the sun went down, she lay beside him on the bed, talking nonsense until her eyelids began to feel heavy. She denied being sleepy several times, assuring him that she was just resting her eyes. Geralt snorted, but said nothing, listening intently to the story she was telling him about a deer she had saved from death between masked yawns. She didn't get to finish the story, not consciously at least. She mumbled a couple of almost inaudible gibberish before falling asleep, fighting her last battle against her body's need for rest.
Geralt watched her sleep for a good while, his eyes admiring the peace on her face in the dim candlelight. She had never looked so ethereal, with her hair spread out on the pillow like a halo around her head, and her chest rising and falling slowly with her calm breathing. Her skin was soft under his touch, a stark contrast to the roughness of his fingers bruised from all the fighting and constant use of the sword. She was the most beautiful piece of art, a sculpture carved by the gods themselves. He almost felt unworthy to be by her side, the softness of her features reminding him once again how different they were, how wrong his feelings were.
He got out of bed with a heavy heart, searching for his things while being very careful not to make a sound so as not to alert her. He couldn't stay there one more night, if he woke up in the morning with her by his side he would never want to leave and he knew very well that it wouldn't end well. So, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, just a brush of his lips against her skin as a farewell.
Geralt disappeared into the darkness of the night without leaving any trace of his presence. When she opened her eyes the next morning she was disappointed to find herself alone in bed. She didn't have to leave the room to know he was gone, she could feel his absence in the air. She felt lonely and cold again, already missing the warmth that filled her whenever he was around. Letting out a tired sigh, she dropped into a chair near the door. Her eyes were glued to the wood, her mind filled with thoughts of Geralt. She wondered if he was alright and if he was missing her as much as she was missing him.
And just like that, the cycle continued, his departure leading the way to the stage of uncertainty and worry that grew in her with each passing day as she awaited his return. Her eyes remained glued to the door at all times, her ears attentive to the sounds waiting to hear Roach's footsteps approaching in the distance. She hated this moment. She hated not hearing from Geralt. She hated not being able to hear his low, raspy voice or feel the warmth of his body against hers. She hated the amount of energy she wasted worrying about him. But most of all, she hated knowing that all her suffering would be worth it the moment he came knocking on her door again.
I have more ideas for these two so if you guys like it let me know!
PART 2 HERE
#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia x fem reader#the witcher#the witcher netflix#geralt of rivia#geralt x reader#geralt x female reader#the witcher fanfiction#geralt of rivia fluff#geralt of rivia angst#geralt of rivia imagine
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So obvious spoilers ahead for an old-ish book series.
I figured understanding the ending of the Witcher series would probably help me understand the games seeing as they’re kind of official post-series fanfiction. So I straight up just looked up the ending.
I thought the flashbacks in the Witcher 2 to Geralt’s “death” were just a reference to the isle of Avalon from Celtic mythology.
No. It’s literally Avalon. Geralt and Yennifer get killed or seriously injured (depending on your interpretation) during a riot and a random boat shows up and brings them to Avalon. Like from the King Arthur legends. Ciri ends up talking to the literal Sir Galahad after she wasn’t allowed in to Avalon. Also implying that she speaks either old English or Welsh. Ciri went to Britain.
They literally. Go. To Britain. To vaguely Celtic mythology King Arthur land.
I refuse to read this as the literal afterlife. I think they’re there. Right now. You find the mythical isle of Avalon, you find King Arthur and you find Mr. The Witcher from the Witcher series. The games are not canon to this in my mind. They can’t be. I have to believe that Geralt and Yennifer are there right now getting drunk with King Arthur and Morgan le fey. Whenever Artie comes back during Britain’s greatest hour of need expect there to also be a white haired asshole with cat eyes involved. He’s getting forcibly pulled into Arthurian court politics against his will.
You know, everyone lied to me about this being a serious gritty fantasy series. This entire experience I’ve had exploring the Witcher series keeps going more and more off the rails and often ends with me laughing at things that probably weren’t meant to be funny.
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Cold nights
Cold nights vanish in the heat of Geralt's passionate hold.
Geralt of rivia x (sorceress) female reader
Genre: SMUT / fluff (minors DNI)
Wc: 1,320
A/N: hi guys I’m gonna make the smut longer next time negl it’s pretty short so this is mostly fluff but there is smut and thank you guys for the support on my last post!
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Traveling with Geralt is a engery drainer. While he’s drawn to the chaos of monster hunts, you prefer the quiet precision of sorcery and trade. Yet, despite your differences, you find yourself pulled into his world time and time again. You tell yourself it’s out of necessity—someone has to patch him up after a fight—but deep down, you know it’s more than that. There’s something magnetic about the way he moves, his body coiled with tension, his every action deliberate. When he’s injured, it’s you who tends to him, your hands steady as you stitch his wounds. And yes, you’ve noticed the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin when he removes his shirt, though you’d never admit it. You’ve convinced yourself that Geralt doesn’t see you that way, that your bond is purely platonic. But sometimes, when his gaze lingers a moment too long, you wonder.
What you don’t realize is that Geralt admires you just as deeply. He values your presence on these journeys, your quiet strength and unwavering focus. To him, you’re a constant in a world that’s anything but. He’s drawn to the way you move, the way you think, the way you seem to understand him without needing words. But he’s hesitant to act on it, afraid that crossing that line might ruin what you already share. He’s not one for grand declarations, and the thought of losing you is more terrifying than any monster he’s faced.
“Geralt,” you call out, noticing he’s fallen a few steps behind. He catches up, his expression unreadable as always. “Let’s stop at this tavern. I could use a drink.” You reach for his hand, your fingers brushing against his calloused palm, and pull him along with a lightness that makes him smile despite himself.
The tavern is alive with the hum of drunken laughter and clinking mugs. Geralt steers you toward a corner table, away from the rowdier patrons. After a couple of drinks, he gently takes the cup from your hand. “That’s enough,” he says, his voice firm but soft. His eyes flicker to your face, then briefly lower before he looks away, hoping you didn’t catch the way his gaze lingered.
“And why’s that?” you protest, your words slightly slurred, a playful pout on your lips.
“Because you’re drunk,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stands, tossing a few coins on the table before offering you his hand. “Let’s get you to bed, darling.” His arm slips around your waist, steadying you as you walk. Normally, you’d brush off such closeness, but tonight, your mind is too hazy to resist. You lean into him, savoring the warmth of his body against yours. When he removes his hand, you feel the absence acutely, a chill settling in its place.
“Here?” Geralt asks, gesturing to a clearing. You nod, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cold bites at your skin. “Help me set up. It’ll warm you up,” he suggests, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back as he guides you forward.
Once the tent is pitched, you shed your outer layers, leaving you in a simple nightgown. You grab your hairbrush, running it through your hair with slow, deliberate strokes. Geralt watches you from the corner of his eye, his admiration barely concealed. “I’ll be back soon,” he says softly before slipping out of the tent.
When he returns, you’re already in bed, the light dimmed. “What did you get?” you mumble, resting your head on the pillow.
“Some berries,” he replies, placing them on the table. He walks over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. “And this,” he adds, holding out a delicate white flower. “For the prettiest girl in the kingdom.”
You smile, taking the flower and inhaling its sweet scent. “Thank you,” you say, your voice warm. Everything he does makes you fall for him even more. If only he knew.
“You like it?” he asks, leaning back against the bed frame.
You nod and lean forward to hug him, pressing a kiss to his cheek before settling back into your spot. Geralt turns off the light as he lies down beside you. You both pull the covers over yourselves and drift off to sleep.
You wake in the middle of the night, shivering. “You cold, darling?” Geralt’s voice is low and gravelly with sleep.
“Yeah,” you whisper, trembling.
Geralt pulls you close, your back pressing against his chest. He wraps an arm around your waist, and you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, letting out a contented sigh. “Did I wake you?” you ask softly.
“No, you didn’t. I haven’t been sleeping well,” he admits, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your waist.
“Geralt?” you murmur.
“Yeah?” he breathes out.
“Do—do you love me?” you hesitate, curiosity getting the better of you.
Geralt lets out a low chuckle. “Yes, I do,” he pauses for a moment. “Do you love me, Y/N?”
You turn to face him, your breath mingling in the cool air. “I do love you. So much,” you smile before your lips meet his. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent. The cool breeze drifts through the tent, making you shiver.
“I’m cold, Geralt,” you murmur against his lips.
He pulls you closer, your bodies pressed together. You can feel his hard length pressing against your core. You kiss him again, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hand slides down to grip your ass. You moan softly, grinding your hips against his. Geralt groans, his hand moving to your throat as the other slips between your thighs.
He tugs your panties aside and slides a finger into you. You gasp, your body tensing as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Geralt,” you whimper, and his cock throbs at the sound of your voice. He quickens his pace, adding a second finger and circling your clit with his thumb. The sensation is overwhelming, and you know he’s going to make you come undone.
Geralt kisses you gently before pulling his hand away. You let out a needy whine, and he chuckles, lifting your leg higher over his hip. Your hands fumble with his belt, freeing his aching cock. It’s thick and heavy, veins prominent and glistening with precum. You moan at the sight before he guides himself into you. Your walls clench around him, taking in his girth.
“Fuck,” he growls as you tighten around him, his hips beginning to move. He starts slow, the deliberate pace making your stomach flutter with anticipation. But soon, his thrusts become more urgent, more demanding. You moan and whimper, your lips seeking his in sloppy, desperate kisses. Geralt’s groans grow deeper, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that sweet spot inside you.
“Need to cum,” you whine, your voice trembling with need.
“Go on, darling,” he grunts, his own release close. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the tent, mingling with your moans. The air is thick with the scent of sex. Geralt hits that spot again, and you cry out, your orgasm crashing over you. You cling to him, riding the wave of pleasure as Geralt follows, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you. You come again, your walls clenching around him as you both moan, bodies pressed together in the throes of ecstasy.
Your movements slow, becoming lazy and unhurried until they still completely. Geralt presses a tender kiss to your lips and brushes a strand of hair from your face. “Are you still cold?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You giggle softly. “No, I’m not.” He smiles and nods, wrapping his strong arms around you as you drift off to sleep.
#henry cavill#geralt of rivia#henry cavill x reader#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia x you#sorceress#the witcher#the witcher smut#geralt of rivia smut#henry cavill smut#smut#tw smut#celebrity#the witcher x reader#fem reader#henry cavill x female reader#female reader#bottom!reader#writing#sub!reader
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In AWAU, did Geralt ever get to meet Visenna? I know in the books, he only meets his mom because she’s healing people near Sodden where he got injured coincidentally around the time that the North was fighting off Nilfgaard, but if Nilfgaard didn't invade when Ciri was like 8, did Geralt ever get the closure of being able to tell the woman who abandoned him that his family was at Kaer Morhen? Did he ever get to look at her and realize that to him, she was pretty much a druidess like any other, and didn't feel important to him like he thought she might?
In the AWAU, Geralt has not at this point met Visenna. I suppose that could change during the Progress, if it seems appropriate to the story, but I don't currently have a bunny.
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Wolf's Home
(Part I)
Geralt of Rivia x female!Reader
Summary: Geralt takes Ciri to Kaer Morhen and reunites not only with his family of witchers, but also with the person that makes him feel at home the most
a/n: this is sort of rewrite of S02E02. Sorry for the use of (y/n) but couldn't really think of a name for the reader. Also, this is my first try at writing for The Witcher so be nice to me please!!
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She woke up that morning expecting to face another routine-repeating day, possibly with an occasional healing of one of the witchers coming back to Kaer Morhen from a hunt, or coming up with a new excuse as to why she didn’t want to eat whatever crap Lambert cooked for them. His turn on food duty was always a dreadful one.
Her days were never too adventurous, not since Vasemir had insisted on a more permanent stay at the keep two years ago, when she was dragged through the Blue Mountains by a silver haired witcher, both injured, after fighting and killing a monster together. An encounter she still couldn’t really understand to this day, how they happened to be in the same place, at the same time, looking for the same creature, but she knew better than to question Destiny.
Even with her own wounds to take care of, she still healed Geralt of Rivia first, who fell under her natural charm like a trap. He wondered if it was a spell, the way he so easily was put at ease in her presence. She was a mage after all. But as the days passed, he concluded that there was no spell besides the one used to close the gash on his abdomen. That woman was simply a caretaker by heart, one that somehow remained open and pure even knowing of the existence of nasty beings out there in the Continent. Everyone else in the Fortress seemed to be as mesmerized, and so, she was welcomed with open arms to stay, and heal, and fight with the witchers.
The ropes were starting to burn the palm of her hands from all the knots she had conquered in the last hour, but she definitely didn’t mind because it was at least keeping her hands warm as she stood outside, light snow falling over the already white ground.
One of the few advantages of the icy weather was that they could hear when someone was approaching, the crunch of the footsteps over the snow being hard to disguise. She heard those in the distance, but it was of a horse. (y/n) dropped the rope and grabbed her sword, preparing herself for the sight of the intruder before making her own known. But, the sight wasn’t at all what she expected. She didn���t know what to expect at all, but it sure wasn’t a familiar brown horse carrying Geralt of Rivia accompanied by a blonde girl, who (y/n) quickly convinced herself must’ve been a princess, if not for her looks, for her posture. She looked like she didn’t belong there, nor next to someone with the nickname The Butcher of Blaviken.
The girl got down from Roach and looked around curiously. Her dress blended with the snow, from afar, (y/n) wondered if she was even real. Her gaze didn’t last long on the girl when Geralt got down from his horse too, the mere sight of his face barely visible under his dark cloak sent a shiver of excitement to her stomach. He had always had that effect on her, but it seemed the longer she went without seeing him, the stronger the sensation got after meeting again.
The witcher and the princess shared words (y/n) couldn’t really hear from where she was still in the hiding, and as they started to walk towards the main entrance of the Fortress, the mage put down her sword and walked towards them.
“You sure we’re safe here?” the princess asked Geralt, who walked in front of her. (y/n) was not close enough to hear the question, not yet to be noticed.
“Safer than out there.”
Her voice seemed to echo in the silence of their footsteps coming to a stop, both turning their heads to their right, finally acknowledging her. Geralt’s lips curved into a brief smile, his yellow eyes softening when they locked with hers. (y/n) smiled back, the shiver in her stomach was now climbing to her chest and for a moment she forgot he could probably feel her heart beating faster. Good thing she didn’t mind him knowing how she felt around him.
Three steps away from coming face to face with the witcher, she slowed her pace, planning to walk past them.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my dearest friend in all the Continent.”
“It’s great to see you.”
“Oh I’m afraid I was speaking to my best girl here.” (y/n) approached Roach, caressing the horse over her nose and planting a light kiss on her short fur, “But it’s great to see you too, Wolf.” she walked towards him again, for a second forgetting it wasn’t just the two of them there. The way Geralt followed every step of hers, his gaze warm even in the middle of a Winter day. (y/n) opened her arms to him, “Welcome home.”
The man embraced her tightly against him and it felt like getting drowned in memories of his days with her. He had forgotten how much he cherished her affection, and holding her reminded him how nice it was to let his guard down for a brief moment. It all felt like he had never left.
“I missed you.” he murmured, unrecognizably self-conscious. He surely didn’t enjoy showing this vulnerable side of him, especially in front of someone else.
“I’m sure you did.” (y/n) let go of him, casting him a warm, welcoming smile, before looking to the girl standing behind him, now more curious about the pair’s dynamic than the Fortress, “And who’s this poor thing having to deal with your company?”
“This is Ciri.”
“Ciri.” (y/n) tried the name on her lips. She walked towards her with the same welcoming smile, but a different fondness in her eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Ciri.” she said as she extended her hand to the girl, “I’m (y/n).”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” she spoke softly, clearly wary of meeting a new face, but the shadow of a smiling curve on her lips showed potential trust as she accepted the handshake. After all, the woman was obviously someone dear to Geralt, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Is that so?” (y/n) smirked, hoping the cold outside cooled the warmth spreading across her face. She turned to Geralt, who watched the two girls interact, but the words were directed to Ciri, “I’m sure I have a lot to hear about you, too.” It was a warning to the witcher: an endless night of chatting was to come, questions needed to be answered, stories to be told and his whereabouts to be known.
As if reading Ciri’s mind, (y/n) squeezed her shoulder and tilted her head towards the entrance, “Don’t worry, you are safe here.”
“Keep up.” Geralt told the girl, and both followed (y/n).
They both pushed the heavy wooden doors and walked into the main room of the Fortress that was occupied with chatty men and the smell of burning wood and ale. (y/n)’s words echoing through the wide space caught their attention.
“Look what the snow dragged in, boys.”
All eyes turned to the mage and the murmur came to a stop when everybody noticed the figure standing behind her. Her attention turned to Geralt as well, in time to see him remove the hood of his cloak and finally getting a decent view of the face she missed so much. She also checked on Ciri, who looked uneasier than before, standing in the middle of a room full of men. (y/n) winked at her, hoping to reassure her everything was alright. Geralt noticed, and he too turned to the girl and nodded at her before moving to stand beside (y/n) as Lambert stood from his seat and walked towards them.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“We thought you got lost.” Coën followed Lambert, “Or killed.”
(y/n) rolled her eyes. Geralt smiled tenderly.
“Not yet. Sorry.”
The mage elbowed his side. She had always hated when he implied the possibility of his death at any moment, considering what he was and he did, in reality it wasn’t a massive impossibility. Still, even a simple joke triggered a non-existent grief that resided in her chest everytime she had to see the witcher leave and go long periods of time without hearing a single word from or about him. In his presence, (y/n) pretended he would stay forever, and if he didn’t stay, he would come back. Everytime.
Geralt caressed her back and brought her in for the embrace Lambert had already initiated. He then went on greeting and hugging the other witchers and, more than ever, Kaer Morhen felt like a real home. The family was back together.
“I guess I’m back to being second favorite now that you’re back.” Lambert complained to Geralt, referring to (y/n).
“Who said you were even a favorite in the first place?”
Geralt laughed.
“I hope you’ve all been treating her right.”
“We do, but she’s a mean one. Lucky for her, we don’t dislike her cooking.”
The banter was interrupted by Vasemir, who entered the room already smiling at the sight of the silver haired witcher.
“Wolf. You’re home.” the elder joined the commotion, “Finally.”
Ciri, still feeling out of place, placed herself visibly between Geralt and (y/n).
“Yeah. I had to make a few stops.” the witcher replied, referring to the princess next to him.
“He’s home!”
Once again, the commotion grew around Geralt as they kept celebrating his return. Ciri smiled shyly watching the content interactions.
“Come on,” (y/n) extended her hand for the princess to take, “I’m going to introduce you to everybody.”
When everybody settled enough for the mage to be able to order everyone to be nice to Ciri, the men were somewhat curious about the unexpected guest. The girl seemed less vigilant as she was offered a seat and cup and conversation started flowing as if both her and Geralt had always been there.
(y/n) stood next to him, a sigh leaving her nostrils as she crossed her arms and discreetly nudged the man’s broad figure.
“Yeah, I know. I have a lot to tell.”
“Yeah. You do.”
Geralt looked down at her to meet her eyes and, with a soft motion of his hand, uncrossed her arms. He smiled, in a way she knew he was promising to stay for a while. She couldn’t tell what he thought her eyes were saying, but whatever it was, he felt the need to hold her hand, hidden behind his cloak, caressing the cold skin of her knuckles with his thumb.
“I’m home.” his hoarse voice, along with the softness of his touch and stare, nearly warmed her up on the spot.
In the back of her mind, there was a voice telling her he would eventually leave again, but for once, she shut it down.
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Part II soon!
#the witcher#geralt of rivia#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia x y/n#geralt x reader#geralt of rivia fic#the witcher netflix
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