#Emotional Support Witcher

[viking-raider]

Can I just

As much as I want to boast, and say that in a battle, I'd be all Geralt-y or Yennefer-like. Badass, composed, elegant and taking fucking names. Throwing out Signs and wrecking people with my magic.

But, in reality, I'd more than likely be Jaskier.

Especially in the opening scene of Blood Origin. Just flailing around, stressed out and scared shitless. While screaming and having a one-word vocabulary of some variation of "FUCK". Disparately looking for Geralt or Yen, so I could hide behind them, until it was all over. Then, needing stiff drink and a cuddle sandwich with them, for emotional support.

[fimloly]

they’re soooooo married couple

[whumpypepsigal]

The Witcher s03e08: “I couldn’t protect [Ciri].”

+bonus:

[ladyannemarie5]

Jaskier: the emotional support bard for EVERYONE

Well, remember my "Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in Vol. 2" post? You can see it here.

I haven't stopped thinking about point #16 (He's the emotional support bard for EVERYONE (Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and even Dara) but who the hell is my baby's emotional support?) and after many sleepless nights I finally got around to it to write something about it.

So here you have 2k words of hurt/angst for my beautiful bard. Because he needs to vent to someone and I love a Geralt writhing in pain and guilt :D

-------------

Geralt is truly grateful to have Jaskier in his life. Having him is the true blessing. 

The bard is always by his side, with a soft and understanding smile on his face, with the right words that will give shelter to their hearts and a joke to lighten the mood.

He knows just the right combination of words to make Yennefer smile sincerely. He knows what song to sing for Ciri after her nightmares. He knows what to say to elves who have lost their homes and families to always keep them hopeful.

And of course, Jaskier is always sincere about his emotions, the things he likes, the things he dislikes.

Jaskier is colorful, loud, colorful and true with his feelings.

That's why Geralt is at a loss for what to do when he hears Radovid comforting his bard. 

Geralt was about to tell them both to gather by the fire to continue the party after saying goodnight to Ciri. The party in the forest was in full swing when both lovebirds decided to step away from the spotlight and spend some time alone. 

"How are you, lark?" asks Radovid.

"I'm perfect, my prince. All things are finally flowing properly" replies the bard cheerfully.

There is silence for a moment, Geralt sneaking up on the pair, not wanting to abruptly interrupt their moment.

"I could see how your hands shook as we approached the fire, I also noticed that you didn't play your usual notes on your lute, and of course, you tried to sing the dirtiest songs in your repertoire only to have your friends tell you to stop singing in front of the girl" the prince murmurs softly and Geralt stops his steps altogether. 

"Well, I wouldn't want a witcher and his sorceress to cut little Jaskier for singing obscenities in front of his daughter. You should thank me for stopping, I know how much you enjoy little Jaskier."

A silence follows, Geralt thinks the matter is settled, that Jaskier is fine. 

"And now you're evading the issue" replies the prince in a tone Geralt can't detect. "You said you weren't afraid of the fire anymore but you sat in the farthest place from the campfire, you didn't have your twitch with the strings and I know you only do that when you don't want to want to keep playing the lute and I also know you only sing your dirtiest songs when you want to make people uncomfortable and make them stop asking you for songs.

I ask you again, how are you?"

Jaskier doesn't respond. Geralt holds his breath and frowns in the darkness.

Jaskier isn't acting weird, it's just Jaskier being Jaskier, Geralt thinks. His bard is always happy, in fact he is surprised that he always smells like honeysuckle and lavender all the time because humans always have a wide variety of smells about them. Sadness, anger, joy, satisfaction, and more and more, but Jaskier always smells of happiness, and several (many) times of lust. Radovid believes that just by knowing Jaskier for a few years he is already able to read him backwards and forwards. Like him

Jaskier doesn't say anything for several minutes and for a second, it seems like the conversation has stopped there, maybe he'll start cracking a joke about how being the most famous bard on the continent is taking its toll on him or maybe he'll comment that Radovid isn't giving him any enough attention.

If there's one thing everyone who knows Jaskier personally knows, it's that the bard is...

"I'm tired "

And Geralt's heart stops. Because he has never heard the bard speak in that tone. Not even when they had walked miles and miles for hours, not when they had spent days and days sleeping outside instead of an inn, not even when Geralt apologized after the mountain. It's not the kind of physical exhaustion that Jaskier always brags about, it's the exhaustion that comes from his soul.

A soft sound is heard and the witcher must not have special mutations to know that the prince has gotten closer to the poet “Dear heart, it is me. "You know you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not with me."

More silence. More doubts.

And then, like a dam that has broken, Geralt smells for the first time the bitter aroma of rotting dandelions: Jaskier's sadness.

"I feel so lonely." Jaskier sighs, an exhausted, desperate sigh.

And then the sobs come.

Geralt can imagine the prince holding Jaskier in his arms because the poet's voice sounds muffled and sobbing.

Jaskier talks about how he has always felt sad and alone since he was a child. How sometimes he is not able to remember his childhood because his mind has blocked everything bad to protect him. He talks about how music saved his life, how sometimes it's not enough and he just forces himself to make it enough.

Geralt thinks about the times Jaskier didn't sleep or eat because he stayed to write in his notebook, how he took his lute and held it to his chest saying that the muses were blessing him with inspiration. He now wonders how much was real and how much was the bard breaking.

The bard tells the prince how scared he was when he first toured the continent, fearing that he would have to crawl back to his parents to survive. The happiness of being able to find Geralt and follow him. The sadness of being rejected over and over again by the only person who was his lighthouse at that moment. The panic attacks he suffered when he woke up and Geralt was already gone. The tremors in his legs when he ran to the next town to catch up with the witcher and the fake smiles he had shown when pretending that their reunion was accidental.

Geralt remembers a time, in Temeria, when he found Jaskier drinking beer in a tavern and how his leg kept moving, up and down over and over again. How Jaskier told him it was the emotion that the red-haired waitress caused him. He tries to remember how many miles Jaskier had to walk by himself.

Jaskier tells him how devastated he was when Geralt left him. Because he knows that 20 years are nothing for a witcher but they were half of his human life. He tells him that he returned to Geralt because he missed him and is his best friend, the person he has the most faith in, but he doesn't think he can trust him again, not like before. Because he had been his only friend, his only constant after leaving and being disowned by his own family, because he had given him his youth, voice and friendship for decades and yet Geralt had left him. And his heart is so broken that he can't put another patch on it or will be useless forever.

He tells him how ashamed he is of his human condition. Because he's surrounded by gods who can set the world on fire literally and figuratively, he clings so hard to being someone magnificent like them, but sometimes he's so exhausting that the very breath escapes him. He tells that every time they make a joke about being weak, worthless or just being left behind he gets it because they remind him of his family, but now it has become a dull ache that builds up in his heart and he knows it's wrong, but now has gotten used to it.

Geralt doesn't even have a specific memory, but he knows that he has a lot to think about.

The poet talks about nightmares about being burned, about being left behind for being a mere human. Because he knows that he is only a second in the infinite life of the people he loves, that he is nothing more than a thorn in the hearts of the people he considers his family. Because they will live long, wonderful lives and the memory of him will one day be erased from their minds, and sometimes it's okay, but other times it feels like it burns his soul to know that he means nothing to anyone.

He tells Radovid that he is so afraid that he will leave him too. Because he knows that he can be a lot and feel so much that he is used to being left aside, but he doesn't believe he can bear Radovid's rejection and he doesn't believe can bear to say goodbye to the prince he has fallen in love with like never before. He tells him how much loves him, how fervent his love is, but Radovid is a prince, the representation of the gods on earth, the man who has armies and subjects and men and women at his disposal; and he’s a simple bard, with scars from torture and a lute on his back. Jaskier opens up and talks out loud about how scared he was when he met him, because he always jokes about being heartbroken, like every good poet, but he never talks about the fear of not being enough again.

He talks about his resentment and envy of others. He was always the bard of comfort for everyone, always the shoulder to cry on and complain about, always the perfect man to put down and feel good about yourself. Jaskier, the man who always smiles. Jaskier, the man of a thousand words. Always the bard Dandelion.

He says that has no right to cry and complain about his pain, because there are elves out there who have lost their homes, their family, and their lives. Because just a few steps from him, there is a girl who lost her parents, her grandparents and her entire home in the flames. There is a sorceress who was sold by her father, who was undone and remade countless times. Because he has traveled with the man with the purest and noblest heart on the continent, that he has suffered for decades without complaint. Because there is a prince trapped in a viper's nest next to him. He has no right to cry because he is exhausted.

But sometimes it's so hard to stay smiling. Sometimes the curtain must be lowered, sometimes his lips also get tired of saying words of encouragement without any in return, his arms are also tired of holding and not being held, his heart sometimes gets tired of loving without being loved.

Sometimes he just wants to sleep and not wake up again.

Jaskier talks and talks and talks. But for the first time, he's not about the best color for his doublet, but instead he mutters about the insecurities he hides behind those colors. For the first time, Geralt doesn't tune out Jaskier's inane, meaningless chatter and actually listens, hears the tremor in his voice, smells the pain in the air, feels every sob rumbling in his chest. And he wonders how he never saw it, how he always took his friend for granted.

It seems that Jaskier's words are exhausted, because all that remains is a deafening silence and the aroma of salt from tears not shed for years.

“You are not alone, lark,” the prince murmurs, soft and determined. “You have me, Geralt, Ciri and Yennefer. We are your family. We are yours. And I'm sorry you feel that way, because it was never our intention to burden you with our burdens. Because we love you. You are the light of our lives, and the only reason we all have a family. Jaskier, you are my lark, my heart and my soul. I love you more than anything, Jaskier. You can always come to me to listen to you, to cry or simply to be by your side, the way you want me, all the time you want me.”

Jaskier sobs again and Geralt can imagine Radovid holding him tighter, closer, because it's something the witcher wants to do.

Geralt walks away silently with only the thoughts of him.

He returns to the bonfire that miraculously continues to burn, with no Yennefer and Ciri in sight.

Geralt sits in his place. He thinks about everything he has learned from the bard in 1 hour and has been missing for 24 years. He wonders how much of what he sees in Jaskier is him and not his mask. He questions why he never asked Jaskier how he is.

Then he hears footsteps coming out of the forest. He feels Yenn sit silently to the right of him and then Ciri to the left of him. Everyone heard, everyone felt their bard break.

No one says anything, as if the bard had taken away their words. He probably did it. So the three of them sit together until they decide to go to sleep, always in silence.

The next morning, the 3 find a note from Radovid saying that he and Jaskier will take some time together. That they will soon find them.

The witcher, the sorceress and the princess shed tears together and then wait anxiously for their bard. Their lark.

[plaidposh]

“… how it felt to know him—vast and complicated and cruel, determined as a battering ram and sometimes shatteringly magnificent.”

@astolat Blooded Crown

[ghostlylicious]

can anybody believe this person trying to fight innocent ppl abt iorveth x roche 😭😭 im looking for any1 who relates so i can recover frm this i LITERALLY just stepped into tumblr

[astaldis]

For the Whumpril prompt 6 Dizziness and the Angstpril prompts 19 Trembling and 22 Drained

Chapters: 4/?    Words: Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Geralt of Rivia, Cahir Mawr Dryffyn aep Ceallach & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Vesemir, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy & Vesemir, Jaskier & Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt of Rivia Characters: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Geralt of Rivia, Vesemir (The Witcher), Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Coën (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion Additional Tags: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Whumptober 2023,  Alive Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, Witcher Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Title from a The Amazing Devil Song, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Major Character Injury, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, Post-Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Buried Alive, Sacrifice, Sickfic, Blood and Injury, Broken Bones, Friendship, Magical Exhaustion, whumpster-dumpster's Whumpril 2024, chaos-company's Angstpril 2024, Uncle Jaskier, lullaby, Tumblr: whumpers-monthly, learning the truth, Grief/Mourning, can't sleep, weak pulse, Found Family, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Family Fluff Summary: At Kaer Morhen, Cahir tells Ciri something that makes her scream ...

[gleamingsilence]

This is for Moth @luciferian-herbivore​ and all my other chronic-pain-buddies! 💖

After an unfortunate meeting with a certain witcher Sigi Reuven, one of Novigrad’s Big Four, is laid up in bed. He wouldn’t call his visitors friends, but they bring gifts of doubtful comfort, nevertheless.

#as much fluff as one can have with Sigi #Geralt being a mean bean who shoves people aside. forcefully

[aeide-thea]

wot show is so obsessed with architecture and tbh i'm not mad about it???

[escapeintothe-book-universe]

I know the Witcher has a million flaws, but they seem to have a lot of very passionate people working on the show. I'll be sad when/if there isn't a next season.

[astaldis]

@whumpers-monthly​

Whumpee: Cahir

Caretaker: Jaskier, Assire var Anahid

Published: 2022-06-04, Completed: 2022-08-03

Chapters: 14/14   Words: 32,672 Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach/Emhyr var Emreis, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Jaskier | Dandelion, Assire var Anahid & Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Merlin The Cat Characters: Jaskier | Dandelion, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Geralt of Rivia, Milva, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, The Hansa | Geralt's Company Members (The Witcher), Emhyr var Emreis, Assire var Anahid, Merlin (the cat), Menno Coehoorn, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen Additional Tags: Friendship, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Torture, Torture, Aftermath of Torture, netflix season 2 compliant, Angst, Vomiting, Sexual Abuse, Maggots, Emhyr is an evil bastard, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, directly after season 2 ends, Panic Attacks, Cats are the best, and bards, Jaskier is a good friend, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Summary: While sitting around the campfire with his companions, Jaskier sings one of his favourite songs. Which elicits a very unexpected reaction from one of the more recent additions to the company. Jaskier can be such an idiot once in a while. The good thing is - he knows and is ready to apologise. However, things are much worse than he anticipated and a quick sorry nowhere near enough.

Excerpt from chapter 14 ... and out of the woods?

"My family. He - he said if I - if I betrayed him, he would kill them all. And I did. I betrayed him. Not at first, but I failed to bring him Princess Cirilla. Again. And then he believed I planted a bogus princess at his court. I had nothing to do with that, but now I've killed my own people. Now I am the traitor he suspected me to be. They might all be dead. My parents and sisters, and nephews, and nieces. Because of me." Cahir swallows again and, even in the near darkness, Jaskier can see the tears welling up in his eyes once more. "I wish - I wish Geralt had killed me then on Thanedd. Or Yennefer. Or Ciri. If - If I had died on my mission, at least my family would be safe."

"Do you truly think your Emperor would do something like this? I mean, this is plain evil." Jaskier looks at Cahir with wide eyes, thoroughly shocked and hardly believing what he has just heard. "He wouldn't go through with a threat like this, would he? He must have said it just to scare the hell out of you."

"I - I don't know," Cahir breathes while fresh tears are running down his face. Silent tears of utter desperation. And Jaskier knows there is nothing he can say or do to make it better. Except hold his friend's hand and sit next to him quietly until there are no tears left. Which he does. And, wonder to behold, Jaskier can hold his tongue and keep silent if necessary for an astonishingly long while. Dwelling on his own thoughts without giving voice to them for once. Recalling a very recent conversation with his friend Geralt involving the vivid comparison of the Nilfgaardian with a cormorant. According to the Witcher a cormorant with a ring on his throat that is searching for friendship in the company of fish only to catch the fish and thus get back into its master's good graces again. If only Geralt knew how altogether wrong he is about the Nilfgaardian, no, Vicovarian. If it wasn't such a sad story, it would almost be funny. No, Cahir is no more a cormorant than Jaskier and neither a pike, but just small fry like the rest of their motley crew. A hurt and lonely and lost little fish in a vast ocean full of predators. He would never, to stick with the fishy metaphor, betray his newly found shoal of fish, also known as Geralt's honourable company, of that Jaskier is certain.

And so it happens that the poet and the alleged non-Nilfgaardian are sitting silently side by side leaning against a tall beech tree in the middle of the Riverdell forest on the Nilfgaardian side of the Yaruga until the stars speckle the night sky and the tears are dry and they both are ready to go back to camp where Milva is still keeping a good portion of her delicious rabbit stew warm for them over the fire.

"Please promise you won't tell Geralt about any of this," the non-Nilfgaardian asks the bard quietly before they reach the camp, his voice still a little husky from crying.

"Alright, I promise," answers the bard in a fittingly solemn tone of voice, "and neither will I write it down in my Half a Century of Poetry. If you promise to never look over my shoulder again when I'm writing."

"I have already apologised for my obtrusiveness and it won't happen again."

"You have, and I believe you, although you, Cahir, are a foreigner from an enemy empire. But - Gods know how that happened - we are friends now, not just casual acquaintances, and that's what friends do. Believe each other, I mean. And keep each other's secrets. And know, my Vicovarian friend, if you ever feel like talking about what happened, I'm here for you. Complete with a shoulder to cry on and a clean handkerchief. That is, if I ever get that blood and snot washed out again." Holding it up gingerly, he waves the sticky piece of fabric about in front of Cahir's face. "If not, you owe me a new one, but that colour is really hard to come by, I tell you. There is only this little dye-works shop in Oxenfurt by the Pontar River that knows how to make the perfect shade of red from some mussel or conch or whatever mollusc they use, and I can't imagine they export their products that far south, so ...

So, as they walk out of the woods and towards the camp, towards their waiting comrades and the stew, the bard blabs on and on while, patiently, the non-Nilfgaardian listens - or pretends to listen -, for that's what friends do. Even if it is not always easy. Even if you have to reconcile yourself with and become accustomed to many things that you don't like and actually can't stand when you travel in a company as unlikely as this one. However, it is so much better than traveling alone and well worth it, for what are you without friends?

[ladyannemarie5]

Okay. So, I was finally able to sit down and properly watch The Witcher Vol. 2.

Then…

Things we learned/confirmed about our bard in Vol. 2:

He thinks there's nothing under Radovid's mask.

Chose his family over his love.

He knows all the smuggling routes in Oxenfurt thanks to his work as the Sandpiper.

Even though Radovid broke his heart, he wanted to help him to run away

His singing is so beautiful that it makes the dryads cry

Milva, welcome to Jaskier's harem (The Hansa is becoming more and more real).

Geralt's best friend

Sings love songs in elder (for Geralt obviously)

Ciri considers him 100% her family

He doesn't know that Radovid was more than willing to leave his position as prince to go after him (my heart can't take this)

He doesn't know that he is no longer the crush of the prince of Redania but now he is the crush of the King of Redania

Frivolity as a coping mechanism (because of course he'd write at least 3 songs and an epic poem about Geralt's death).

He sits and stands next to a wounded Geralt (just as in the fanfics *cry*).

He holds Geralt's hand when he's hurt and Geralt leans on him (as in the fanfics).

Knows the ingredients of Witcher potions (Maybe Vesemir himself taught him *father-in-law-son-in-law moment* or maybe Geralt himself taught him *husbands moment*)

He's the emotional support bard for EVERYONE (Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and even Dara) but who the hell is my baby's emotional support?

He writes his songs seeing Geralt being Witcher (as in the fanfics :3).

He doesn't know that Rience is dead

Geralt is his personal bodyguard who will brutally kill whoever touches his bard (once again, just as in the fanfics \^^/)

Jaskier knows that the brooch is important to Geralt and possibly knows about Renfri.

Geralt even trusts him with his sword

He finally has a fucking horse, and it better be named Pegasus.

And once again, Joey Batey is the love of my life.

[sailorkamino]

sheltered

relatonships: geraskier x magic!reader [tangled au]

word count: 1.8k

summary: your village believed you to be born cursed and would have killed you, if not for stragobor. you've spent your whole life locked away in a tower but now you've got a chance for freedom in the form of a bard, a witcher, and an pretty horse.

warnings: stragobor, emotionally abusive parent, gaslighting, anti witcher prejudice, death/murder, pre relationship, emotional support dogs

a/n: my first time writing for the witcher! what do you think? i might turn this into a series <3

Spring is coming so you’re making new outfits for your beloved hounds. Which isn’t at all depressing no matter what that one judgemental bird thinks. Anyways you’re using golden yellow fabric for Honeysuckle and cool blue for Periwinkle. As is customary.

Then you sense them. Strangers. You become almost dizzy with fear and excitement. A type of desperation only experienced when you live in a forced solitude. You make your way to the window, desperate for a glance. It’s not like they’ll be able to see you. Your entire tower is invisible to outsiders.

“Hey, look at this tower.”

You choke on air. Your dogs leap from your bed to check on you (still in their winter sweaters.) You hold your breath as two people and a horse step into the clearing. Then you meet yellow cat-like eyes and you’re diving to the floor with a startled noise.

“Careful. Magic.”

One of them is mumbling but it’s drowned out by the sound of your rapid heart. Honeysuckle whines in concern, licking your face. Periwinkle takes a protective stance over both of you, growling out the window.

Father has always told you witchers are bloodthirsty savages. They’ll kill any innocent being for a profit. They know no morals, only violence. When you were born under a black sun your religious village wanted you dead. Father hid you away for protection. You’re not looking to relieve the witch hunt experience.

You mentally poke at the witcher, feeling out his aura. He doesn’t seem particularly beastly. Animals tend to be more shallow than people, all instincts and simple emotions. Surprisingly he doesn’t feel that.

A part of you has always questioned your father's prejudice. You stopped voicing it but the concerns remained. Father hates witchers because they kill beasts. If monsters can be good, why can’t witchers? An old argument resurfaces in your memory.

“Have you listened to a word I’ve said, child?” Father asks angrily. “You cry when a rat dies yet defend butchers.” You look away, embarrassed by his mocking tone.

“This is why you stay in this tower. You’re too naïve for the outside world.”

You wonder if that’s the real reason he keeps you locked away. You’re capable of defending yourself now. So is he really protecting you? Or is he protecting the world? All because you were born under a black sun. Why must you be punished for being different? Why must witchers?

You think of the villagers who looked at a crying orphan and saw a threat. Who saw killing an infant as a lesser evil. You don’t want to be like that. Privately you wonder why your mentor sees compassion as a weakness but you’ve learnt it’s better to agree with him. “Yes father. I’m sorry.”

“No need to fear us. I’m Jaskier the bard, master of the seven liberal arts, and this is my companion, Geralt of Rivia! Could you give us directions to the nearest town?” The colorful man calls out.

Your heart races until you feel dizzy. So this is the butcher. The most beastly and cruel of all the witchers. He’s… underwhelming to say the least. Certainly least nightmarish and more dreamy than you imagined. But you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. You take a calming breath, petting your hounds to ground yourself.

The primal fear inside of you is wrestling with your desire for a real life conversation with a stranger. This could be your chance to hear both sides of what happened in Blaviken. Father always says you’re too naïve but only tells you his point of view. You’re almost sick with nerves when you blurt out rather loudly, “I wouldn't know. I’ve never been in the forest before.”

There’s a long pause and you can sense confusion. Have you already messed up? You don't want them to leave. Well the witcher can go, but the colorful one seems nice. You pop your head back into view, “I don’t leave my tower. I’m sorry. I… like your horse.” Compliments make you friends right?

“Don’t leave or can’t?” A much gruffer voice asks. You shiver. (He didn’t even say thank you for the compliment, how rude.)

“I’m safe here.” The words sound unconvincing to your own ears. You tell yourself it's because of fear. Not because you’re beginning to question them.

“Who says?”

“My father.”

They share a concerned look. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It sounds quite childish when you say it out loud. But you’ve been persecuted before, you aren’t about to let your guard down around a hired killer. So… why are you still talking to him?

Then you notice the brunet’s instrument. What a lovely change of subject. “Is that a lute?”

“It is!”

You’re practically jumping now. Honeysuckle, picking up on your excitement, smacks you with her wagging tail. “I’ve never heard a bard before! Play me something?”

Jaskier goes impossibly sad. You frown, hating the kicked puppy expression. What did you do wrong? Maybe you should just stick to socializing with animals. At least the rats find you charming.

“You’ve never heard music, my dear?”

Your face goes hot, both at the endearment and the pity in his voice. “I have lots of instruments but I don’t think I’m very good. Being self taught and all.”

“Why don’t I come up and give you a lesson? Free of charge!”

Your stomach twists in knots. You don’t know what’s more terrifying. Your new friend coming inside or leaving you to loneliness. You avoid eye contact when you answer. “My father wouldn’t like that.”

“What would you like?” The witcher asks sternly. You freeze. No one has ever cared what you wanted before. Is that concern you sense from him? Sympathy? From a so-called beast? Your silence seems like an answer enough. “So can’t leave,” he concludes.

“Can others enter?” Jaskier asks curiously.

You don’t know why you answer but you do. “Only with a portal. There’s no door.”

“But there’s a window.”

You frown. Obviously there’s a window, you’re talking out of it right now. Maybe your new friend is a little slow.

“Rope?” he proposes to the witcher.

Your mouth drops open. A rope? That’s it? Years of isolation by a warlock solved with a fucking rope? It can’t be that simple. It just can’t be. “My father is very powerful,” you warn. “And he hates witchers.”

“Him and most of the continent,” the man grumbles dryly. For some reason you feel guilty. Years of indoctrination to hate his kind, forgotten in mere minutes. Maybe you really are naïve.

“Who’s your father, dear? Maybe we know him?”

You sincerely hope not. “Stregobor.”

Dead silence. Then a very empathetic “fuck.”

Your stomach sinks. That’s the most emotion you’ve heard in the witcher’s voice so far and it doesn't sound good. Will they judge you for your fathers deeds? Wait, why are you assuming your father’s in the wrong? Since when did he become the bad guy? (Maybe he always has been but you’ve ignored it.)

“Let me guess, you were born during a black sun?” He asks flatly.

You feel as if a rug has been pulled out from under you. The comfort that’s been growing disappears, replaced with icy fear. You don’t even know this man yet you still feel betrayed. “Are you here to kill me?” You ask, slightly wobbly.

He sighs tiredly. Maybe he gets asked that a lot. “No. You aren’t fucking cursed. You were born during an eclipse. A completely natural phenomenon. A bunch of old bastards made up that curse for power and control.”

Your jaw drops, conflicting emotions raging inside of you. If he’s right you’re not cursed, which is great. But it also means your father has betrayed you. Your whole life can’t be a lie. It just can’t. A sinking part of you knows he’s making sense, even wants to believe him, but you desperately ignore it.

“I hurt people,” you confess abruptly.

“I thought you never left this tower?” Jaskier asks.

“When I was a baby.”

The witcher raises an unimpressed brow. “Did Stregobor tell you that?”

You growl in frustration as a strong wind rustles the trees. Jaskier looks around in bewilderment but the witcher holds your steady gaze. Not easily frightened by your show of power or glowing eyes.

“I’ve met a lot of monsters. You’re not one.”

The words you’ve always longed to hear. Uttered by the man you’ve been taught to hate. You take a moment to collect your flurry of emotions before answering. “Funny,” you smile weakly, “I was gonna say the same thing about you, witcher.”

You steady yourself before asking the next question. Knowing it won’t be easy but needing answers. The more you talk to Geralt the more you question what you’ve been taught about witchers. Maybe you don’t want him to be a monster. Maybe you’re so lonely you don’t care if he is.

“Tell me about Blaviken.”

“What?” His voice is somehow gruffer. Face horribly blank and posture rigid.

“Every story has two sides, yet I’ve only heard my father’s.”

He sighs deeply. Then begins. He tells you about Renfri. A princess born under the black sun. Her step mother was looking for a way to get rid of her and the curse was convenient. Stregobor agreed the girl was an evil mutant that must be isolated but her step mother wanted her dead. Together they ruined her life.

Renfri evaded them. She spent years being hunted, until she became the hunter. Eventually she formed a gang of sorts and tracked Stregobor to Blaviken but couldn’t enter his tower. (Apparently the idea of living in a tower forever was very distressing to your father. You don't know if you should laugh or vomit.)

Both Renfri and Stregobor asked Geralt to kill the other but he refused, not wanting to get involved. Although he hated Stregobor he tried to talk the princess out of revenge. It was too late. She threatened to kill townspeople until the warlock came out.

Your heart sinks at the ultimatum. Your father has never been a compassionate man. By the grim look on the witcher’s face he knew it too. In the end Geralt did what Stregobor wanted him to do. Instead of payment or thanks he was branded a butcher.

The fear-shame-grief rolling off of the witcher (definitely not emotionless by the way) is enough to make your eyes sting. Your gaze settles on Jaskier, who’s gone into full sad puppy mode. You have a feeling he’s never heard the full story either. You clear your choked throat.

“You mentioned a rope, good sir?”

[teatitty]

Geralt isn't possessive as a rule but I do think if somebody called Dandelion their bard - even if it was a friendly joke - he'd get into a right mood and snit about it and be scowling and short-tempered and sulky for AAAAAAGES because he's gotten so used to people calling Dandy "the witcher's bard" etc so he's like. That's MY emotional support bard bestie actually who the fuck are YOU to be saying this go a-way

[thehydraethereal]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ writing update

i have decided to stop writing smut. it doesn't matter if it's consensual or not, it just doesn't sit right with me. i have decided to explore the intensity of emotions in my writings and fics, and writing smut does not help me with that.

so, i want to update my account a little and to get some new writing done. (my old requests will be published, but i cannot guarantee that though and i apologize).

^ྀི the themes i'll write from now on are mostly dark, which will include: manipulation, lying, violence (choking, hair pulling, etc.), domestic violence (slapping, etc.), abducting, captivity, restraints, depression, stalking, fear, crying, sexual harassment and nonconsensual touching/ kissing but nothing more than that !!! basically i'm exploring any dark theme except smut.

so, i would like to get some inspiration and you sending me requests would enormously help. please, don't hold back. i know how hard it may be to find a fic that has everything you'd fancy, and i'm so down to fulfill that for you. if you request a series, i'll make it happen, but please, if you're anon, choose an emoji for yourself so i know you.

^ྀི characters i will be writing for:

𝜗𝜚 chris evans: ari levinson, ransom drysdale, lloyd hansen, steve rogers, johhny storm, andy barber, curtis everett

𝜗𝜚 sebastian stan: lee bodecker, bucky barnes, lance tucker, nick fowler

𝜗𝜚 chris hemsworth: thor, tyler rake, steve abnesti, dementus, stone crandall, billy lee, the huntsman

𝜗𝜚 tom hiddleston: loki, jonathan pine, cpt. james conrad (kong), cpt, nichols (warhorse)

𝜗𝜚 henry cavill: clark kent (superman), geralt (the witcher), sherlock holmes, melot (tristan and isolde), august walker, walter marshall

𝜗𝜚 others: logan howlett (wolverine), wade wilson (deadpool), brock rumlow, rafe cameron, tony stark, any brad pitt character, patroclus (troy 2004), achilles (troy 2004)

p.s: thank you for being so supportive. i am looking forward for your requests, i am so excited for this new chaper, so please, if you have ANY request, send it to me.

[astaldis]

@whumpers-monthly​

Whumpee: Cahir

Caretaker: Jaskier

Chapters: 1/1   Words: 1,767 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Jaskier | Dandelion Additional Tags: Friendship, Nightmare, mental break down, Jaskier the agony uncle, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Has a Bad Time, Angst, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach Whump, Jaskier is a good friend, emotional whump Summary: Cahir is plagued by a bad nightmare and needs a shoulder to cry on. How very lucky that agony uncle Jaskier is around and nobody else. (Set somewhen between the fish soup and the Battle on the Bridge, but you don't need to understand what that means to understand the story.)

Excerpt:

"Sometimes talking about things that weigh you down helps. I know you've been through a lot. That you've done a lot that you now regret." Jaskier puts his arm around Cahir's shoulder. "Talk to me. I'm your friend. I promise I won't tell the others. What was that dream about?"

But Cahir shakes his head.

"Why not? I won't judge, I swear. You're here now, with us, to help. That's what counts, right? The past's the past."

"I can't." Cahir bites his lip, but then continues, staring at the ground. "What I did - it's too horrible. The - the blood will never come off."

"What blood?"

"His. Gallatin's." Tears start to Cahir's eyes and, angry at his own weakness, he wipes them away with the sleeve of his shirt.