shutuplilith

[shutuplilith]

the witch and her cottage, part 3 - geralt of rivia x reader

the witch and her cottage, part 3

ciri's pov. (takes place after the ending of season 1, episode 8. yennifer exists in this, but not as geralts love interest but as his best friend)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊

The dark floorboards crunch softly under our feet as we finally enter the quaint cottage behind Y/N. With a gentle movement, I pull the hood off my head to get a better look inside. An intricately woven dark green rug stretched across the floor, while lovingly designed knitted and crocheted blankets were artfully draped. In contrast to the cold outside, a cozy warmth emanating from the crackling fire in the fireplace welcomed us inside. The stone walls of the room are decorated with depicting the beauty of nature, animals and breathtaking landscapes in all their glory. Dried bouquets of flowers decorated every corner of the room, giving it an extra coziness and a touch of magic. Hundreds of books piled up everywhere on shelves, tables, in the corners of the room and even on the floor.

Near the fireplace, a majestic dog rests on one of the many blankets. He sleeps peacefully, his mighty chest rising and falling in rhythm with his deep snores. Only when Y/N leans down to him does he raise his head and allow himself to be scratched behind the ears with pleasure.

"Oh, sorry," Y/N replies as she greets Rufus with a tender gesture. "I always have to greet Rufus first when I get home." She shrugs apologetically and smiled warmly." You must be frozen to death. Please, take a seat. I'll put on some water for tea." She points to the chairs around a small table on which lies a blanket embroidered with flowers. Then she stands up to pour water into the kettle over the fire. I join the Witcher and sink down on one of the chairs as I inspect the table more closely. A magnificent leather-bound book lies open before me. Upon closer inspection, I notice that the page is littered with elaborate sketches of creatures of various kinds.

[shutuplilith]

the witch and her cottage, part 2 - geralt of rivia x reader

the witch and her cottage, part 2

ciri's pov. (takes place after the ending of season 1, episode 8. yennifer exists in this, but not as geralts love interest but as his best friend)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊

As she walks toward us, out of the corner of my eye, my gaze falls sideways to Geralt, who also wears a grin on his lips. "Gera... oh, hello, Roach, what a pleasure to catch sight of you again," she says as her hand gently strokes the nose of Geralt's faithful mare. At that moment, Roach seems to enjoy the tender touch, and I feel an invisible bond forming between the two. After a few precious moments, she gently disengages from Roach and takes a few steps back. She looks to Geralt, "Oh Geralt," she grins, "it's good to see you again as well." A smile plays around his lips as she pulls him into a warm embrace, which he returns without hesitation. As they break free from the embrace, hergaze shifts towards me, her luminous (y/e/c) eyes studying me intently. "Oh, and you must be Ciri; I've heard so much about you," she whisper, her words hitting me like the sound of an ancient spell. I furrow my brow, and inside my head, my thoughts start to dance wildly. My gaze returns to Geralt once more, who meets my look with a faint grin. "I am, by the way, (y/n)," her voice once again captures my attention, pulling me back from the dizzying expanse of thoughts into the here and now. "I am filled with joy to finally meet you."Curiosity overtakes me, and I inquire, "How do you know Geralt?"A mysterious smile graces her lips as she replies, "I’ll tell you this story later. For now, let's make our way inside; it's about to get uncomfortable out here."As if in response to an invisible signal, Geralt and I both turn our gazes sky, which has once again been swallowed by dark clouds. The howling of the wind, previously just a faint whisper, now pierces our ears louder and more menacingly.

[shutuplilith]

the witch and her cottage, part 1 - geralt of rivia x reader

the witch and her cottage, part 1

ciri's pov. (takes place after the ending of season 1, episode 8. yennifer exists in this, but not as geralts love interest but as his best friend)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊

"Geralt." "Hmm?" "Where are we riding to, exactly?" "We're going to visit an old friend." With that, our conversation came to an end. For two days already we had been roaming the lands, and if I hadn't been by Geralt's side, I was sure we would have gotten lost long ago. But his presence gave me security, as did Roach, his loyal bay mare, whom nothing could upset. Even if she hesitated once, Geralt's grumble calmed her down. We were approaching the sea. I could hear the sound of the sea getting closer, could feel the salty air on my lips and the stormy wind dancing in my hair and on my face. We left a small forest and arrived at a meadow. Only a few steps later did I realize that we were on a vast cliff. To our right, meadow and forest stretched, unperturbed and endless. But ahead of us, the meadow gradually narrowed. The wind continued to whip in my face and by now we were shrouded in a thick fog. The wind continued to whip, and we were surrounded by a dense fog. Nevertheless, I recognized a small building in the distance. I squinted my eyes and thought I saw light burning in the windows. The closer we got to the house, the more fiercely the wind raged, and Roach also became increasingly restless. " Calm down," Geralt murmured, but this time the mare was not so easily soothed. By now we were in the immediate vicinity of the house. It was a small cottage with many flowers and surrounded by a small stone wall. Finally I understood why Roach had been so nervous. In front of the house and behind the stone wall were several horses. They were staring at us as confused as I was at them. My gaze slid past the horses, and I spotted a young woman standing on the edge of the cliff behind her house. Her (y/h/c) were swirling in the wind, and her hands were moving through the air. We watched her for a while, and finally she lowered her hands, and the storm abruptly stopped. She turned around, and her lips formed a wide smile.

[shutuplilith]

imagine the picture of dorian gray (1891) but dorian is jude law in wilde (1997) and lord henry is hugh grant in maurice (1987)

[shutuplilith]

Silent Steps and Whispers of Destiny; a quillkiller oneshot

 i haven't written for a long time, so please bear with me haha

With the first breath of dawn, she entered the Astronomy Tower. The impenetrable mist had enveloped Hogwarts in its mysterious embrace, while brave sun rays fought their way through the dense fabric.

 Gracefully, she approached the railing and let her gaze wander over the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, and the Quidditch field. Her eyes greedily attempted to absorb every tiny detail, as if she wanted to capture the entire world with a single glance.

 In a few precious hours, her final year would begin, signaling the countdown to the last months of her boundless freedom. But before she could delve deeper into these thoughts, she heard faint footsteps behind her. Without turning around, she already knew who had entered the tower.

Rita didn't need long to consider where to find Bellatrix when she noticed the vacant bed. Moving silently to avoid disturbing Zabini and Alecto, she wrapped her cloak around herself and left the room. Swiftly, she traversed the dark corridors of the Slytherin dungeon and made her way to the Astronomy Tower.

 And there she stood, Bellatrix, with her long raven-black locks cascading like a river over her shoulders. Leaning against the railing, she seemed unaware of Rita's presence, sending an unexpected thrill of excitement through Rita's body when Bellatrix softly uttered her name. "Rita." With a graceful turn, Bellatrix faced her, and Rita noticed that her once radiant dark eyes were clouded. Had she been crying?

Rita reminisced about their first encounter.

1th September 1962

With trembling fingers, Rita pushed down the latch of the last compartment, hoping silently to finally be alone. However, this desire was instantly snatched away as her gaze fell upon a figure perched on the bench. A girl with raven-black curls and skin as pale as the moon. She was dressed in a black gown with an immaculate white collar, gleaming white stockings, and polished black patent shoes. These flawless garments formed an unmistakable contrast, almost a contradiction, to the untamed strands that danced across her face.

"Is this seat taken?" Rita inquired. The girl glanced up from her book and scrutinized her from head to toe.

"What's your name?" she asked. "I've never seen you at my parents' gatherings."

"Rita. Rita Skeeter. Which gatherings are you referring to?"

The brunette's eyebrows raised. "So, not a pure-blood," she smirked mockingly, "just as I suspected." Setting her book aside, she stood up and extended a hand to Rita. "Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black."

"Rita," she was once again interrupted from her thoughts by Bellatrix's voice.

"What are you thinking about?" Bellatrix asked.

"Your bed was empty, and I knew I would find you here," she replied, looking at Bellatrix with a sad smile. Bellatrix returned the smile and gently brushed a blonde strand of hair that peeked out from Rita's hood.

"You would find me anywhere," she spoke softly, placing her hands on Rita's cheeks. Rita stepped closer, and Bellatrix pulled her into a kiss. Bellatrix's lips were rough, tasting of firewhisky and cigarettes. Rita closed her eyes and tried to focus solely on the kiss, pushing away thoughts of the upcoming school year, Bellatrix's impending wedding to Rodolphulus Lestrange, their families, and even Bellatrix herself. She didn't want to waste her thoughts on the Bellatrix she had become in the past few months. Rita felt tears welling up within her. She tried to suppress them, but couldn't succeed. Bellatrix seemed to sense it too. The raven-haired witch broke the kiss, and as Rita opened her eyes, she met Bellatrix's gaze directly. Bellatrix reached out, wiping away Rita's tears, and rested her head on Rita's shoulder. "I'm here, Rita. Everything will be fine. I'm here."

[shutuplilith]

Where I like to read books

Under the covers in the darkness, with only a reading light. Like a child again, sneaking up past my bedtime, I get lost in the fantastical worlds of someone else’s stories, rather than my own far less fantastic nighttime imaginations. The prose of good fantasy authors is so beautiful; I would much rather have their words fill my head than the ones I think up - the ones that keep me awake into the long, dark hours of the early morning. If I can’t sleep, at least I can have someone else’s dreams to keep me company, and a good fantasy novel has never let me down for this.

On the train ride to work while the sun rises, hot coffee in one hand. I always read manga on the train. There is no reason for this other than habit; I always have, so now I always do. I find comfort in rituals, however arbitrary, especially in the morning. The Japanese have a wonderful sense of humour; even the heaviest and most profound mangas I’ve come across are peppered with jokes and little human moments that make the stories come alive off the page. Plus, the art is often beautiful to admire. By the time I’ve arrived at my station, I am always left smiling from what I’ve read. It’s the perfect way to wake my brain up and start the day.

At my desk job; I pore through textbooks when I’m bored and taskless, I let the secret beauty of the universe reveal itself before me. No matter how much I learn, I always want more. To me, there is no greater magic than that of the world we live in, and the people who made and discovered seemingly impossible things, and made them possible. Finding order in the chaos brings me peace within the world, and finding understanding in things I never thought I could brings me peace within myself. Learning for the sake of it has shown me countless beauty in a world I once thought was completely devoid of it. I will never tire of a well-written textbook.

On the train ride home while the sun sets over the grey, concrete city and lights my pages on fire with deep orange sunbeams through the window. There are always large crowds on the train home, but I lose myself in the stories until it’s just me and the characters. I always read manga on the train. It helps me decompress after a long day. By the time I’m home, I am always left smiling.

On the weekends, I like to pack a few books in my bag; novels and nonfiction, whatever my heart desires, and walk until wherever I end up. Sometimes I sit and read in coffee shops, sometimes it’s in the park if the weather’s nice. On Sundays I sit curled up on the giant beanbag in my parents’ attic while my old dog snores soundly beside me. If I’m lucky enough to find a fireplace to sit in front of, I will read there until I’ve run out of books. I love reading by the fire.

In the bath, or on walks, or when my hands are busy, I listen to audiobooks. I always borrow audio versions from the library of whatever books I’m currently reading, so that I can pick up right where I left off anytime with minimal disruption. Sometimes I even listen to them while I have the written book in front of me, and it’s like I’m a child again, being read to. I especially like to do this at bedtime, with a timer set to the end of the chapter, so I can fall asleep listening.

To all authors: thank you for sharing your imagination and your knowledge. You have made my life so much richer, brighter, and more profound. Thank you for your words; thank you for your stories. I carry these pieces of you with me everywhere, and I am so much better for it. Thank you.

And to my fellow readers: please leave me some recommendations of your favourite books in the replies :]

[shutuplilith]

Winter descends, a time for reflection, As I curl up with Dostoyevsky's introspection, The poetry of frost, a delicate art, Illuminated by candles that warm my heart.

Books like Kafka, a journey through the mind, Philosophy, a quest to seek and find, Raindrops fall, a soothing melody, As I ponder the meaning of humanity.

Flowers bloom, a symbol of life's grace, Psychology, a map to navigate the inner space, Classic music, a symphony of the soul, Tea in hand, a comforting bowl.

Cats purr, a companion on this journey, Storms rage, a reminder of nature's fury, Warm lights shine, a beacon in the night, Letters and sketches, a way to express and write.

Annotating with brown ink, a personal touch, Pinterest and art history, inspiration as such, Rings on fingers, a symbol of devotion, Foggy mornings, a time for deep emotion.

Headphones on, lost in the music of the mind, Grey skies above, a canvas undefined, Notes app, a tool to organize and plan, Academic validation, a worthy goal to stand.

Personality theories, a quest to understand, The depths of the human psyche, an eternal demand, Winter, Dostoyevsky, poetry, candles, books, A life lived with passion, a way to unhook.

Winter, Dostoyevsky, poetry, candles, books, Kafka, philosophy, rain, flowers, psychology, classic music, tea, cats, storms, warm lights, letters, sketches, annotating, brown, Pinterest, art history, rings, fog, headphones, grey,notes app, academic validation , personality theories

[shutuplilith]

She’s a 10 but relates to everything Franz Kafka and Fyodor Dostoyevsky have ever said

[shutuplilith]

this book is frightening. but good. really good.

follow my tiktok for more of this content: lilithlaufeyson0

.

.

.

#books #bookstagram #book #booklover #reading #bookworm #bookstagrammer #read #bookish #booknerd #bookaddict #booksofinstagram #bibliophile #instabook #love #bookshelf #readersofinstagram #booksbooksbooks #bookaholic #libros #reader #bookphotography #b #booklove #art #author #libri #literature #instabooks #booklovers #writer #bookblogger #bookcommunity #bookreview #library #livros #quotes #writing #libro #poetry #writersofinstagram #bookstore #bookrecommendations #novel #fantasy #romance #goodreads #igreads #readingtime #bookclub #fiction #literatura #instagood #authorsofinstagram #instagram #a #photography #kindle #leggere #bhfyp #ottessamoshfegh #lapvona