#cahir edit

[redskull199987]

Heyy hii I'm not sure if you're still taking requests, but I'll try my luck. Can you write something about Cahir and the female Witcher reader? Thanks in advance if you write.

If I am being brutally honest, I had a lot of fun writing this. Season three renewed my love for Cahir, so I hope you like this:)))

A Bond

Cahir x female!witcher!reader Request

Word count:0.9k

Warnings:it's all fluffy. I probably got carried away and let my inner Jaskier come out

Summary:You and Cahir had been friends for a long time and as he needs your help, you don 't hesitate to be there for him…

Masterlist

You and Cahir had known each other for a long time. You had met him on your travels through the country, as he was attacked by the beast, you were hunting. He was rude at first, but still thanked you. 

The rest was history.

You started running into him over and over again. To a point where it was inevitable that a friendship would form. With you, Cahir could be himself. He was just a normal Person. No Nilfgaard, no white flame, no war. Nothing of that mattered to you. You were neutral. All you were interested in was his person. And he knew that your interest was genuine. And he let it happen. He let the friendship form and prosper. An unfeigned friendship that connected you. 

And when he was cast out, thrown away by his master, like an old doll he didn't want to play with anymore, Cahir came to you. He found comfort in you. He had been through so much, but for once in his life, he felt safe. At peace. He might even say “Home”.

Of course, he would never tell you that, but it surely was on his mind, everytime, he looked at you. Everytime you returned to his small hut, after finishing a Witcher contract. Bruised and battered, but back with him. And only him. Only Cahir got to see you like this. He took pride in knowing that he was the only person in this world, you would trust this far, besides your brothers maybe.

But you told him that you only saw them once a year, in the winter. You told him stories of Kaer Morhen and how you had grown up there, under Vesemir´s care.

You told him that it was hard for you at first, being the only female Witcher. But it had gotten better, the older you got. The more you learned and saw in this world. You realized that no one really cared, as long as they could use you for their dirty work. 

“How was it?”, Cahir asked, forcing himself to return to the present moment. He had let his thoughts wander, after a pleasant silence rose between you, as he carefully cleaned your wounds.

“It was alright.”, you finally said,”It was a small kikimora. Still young and inexperienced.”

“In fighting?”,Cahir asked, not really knowing a lot about the beasts that your job involved. You had told him some things, but a kikimora was new to him.

 You only smiled at him, before finally answering his question:”No, not in fighting. In killing."

He was quiet for a second, not knowing what to say, upon that statement. But luckily, you just continued recounting what had happened.

“The Monster´s head was worth a lot of coin though. I won't have to leave for at least a month. The money will be enough.”

Cahir smiled at you, glad that he got to spend more time with you.He slowly got up from his place in front of you and sat down beside you on the bed:”Thank you. You don't have to do this. Supporting me in my exile, I mean. But you still do it anyway. And for that I am thanking you.”

“Oh Cahir.”, you smiled, your hand rising to softly caress his face. He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into your gentle touch.

“I would proudly ride into death for you, without hesitation.”, you mumbled, as he opened his eyes. You heard how his heart picked up a beat. How his breath stocked for a second, his eyes lingering on your lips, instead of your yellow orbs, which were intently watching him, awaiting his next move. 

You had often thought about your relationship with him. Often let your mind wander to what ifs.

 What if you were more than just close friends? What if you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. Never leaving each other. What if…

“I love you.”

At first you barely heard him. His words were so quiet. His voice shaking and his eyes darting everywhere else, but your face.  He wasn't usually this hesitant. He was an outgoing and stern person. Always sure of himself and his capabilities. He used to be a Nilfgaardian officer after all.

“Cahir.”, you mumbled, after a few seconds of burning silence. He finally looked at you. His expression now a bit more confident. His heartbeat had slowed and he finally dared to look you in the eye.

“I love you, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach. With all my heart.”, you smiled, your eyes almost glowing with excitement.

Cahir didn't need to hear anything more, before he finally leaned in. Your eyes closed and his lips collided with yours. He was gentle and sweet. Passion laid in his actions. And you knew that he meant every little bit, he had told you.

“I love you.”, he said once again, before slowly pushing you back against the bed. You followed along with his movements, until he was hovering above you.

“I love you.”, you also repeated. You were bare in front of him. Not in a physical way, but emotionally. No one had ever known you as Cahir did. Not even your brothers. He knew your heart and soul. Something that you had shown no one before.

And as he slowly lathered kisses over your body, your moans and whines mixing with his groans. As you fully let him in, you knew that he was the only one  you would ever love this way. He became part of you and you part of him. 

 An unfeigned bond, that was never to be broken again.

[whump-collector]

Eamon Farren as Cahir in The Witcher 3x06

[hanzajesthanza]

(Adam Dudaczyk) The fact that vampires drink blood to get that *meaningful hand-neck gesture* - you made that up? (Andrzej Sapkowski) Yes, I didn't model myself on anyone here, I don't know anyone who wrote before me about the fact that vampires drink blood not to satisfy their hunger, but to satisfy their thirst for… entertainment. Texts: the guys sent me to get blood, I was flying drunk… The fun was great.

as i reread this i couldn't stop thinking of this meme

[cheweduplemon]

The Witcher: Aen Hanse members ↳ [3/6] Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, or simply Cahir

A soldier does not question commands. He does not analyze them, he does not think about them, and he does not expect an explanation of their meaning. This is the first thing they taught us soldiers.

— "The Tower of the Swallow" by Andrzej Sapkowski

[theravenandtheswallow]

Offer me my deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

[tantumuna]

My brother asked me to make this in hopes it would kill me. It nearly did, but I survived. Funniest thing I've ever made so please give it a watch if u love laughter and joy.

[aearon]

[harrycollins]

That is how I felt when I realized I could no longer count on you to fulfill my mission.

[statisticallymorelikely]

Cahir tore his glare away from Ciri and looked down at his wrist, where he wasn’t sure what to think. On his wrist was a cute little flower, drawn in black marker. Each line was pristine, and if he saw the flower anywhere else, he’d compliment it. But it was on him. A flower wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. “What is it?” Gallatin laughed. “It’s a buttercup. Little yellow flowers you can find out in the forest. They’re poisonous.”

Buttercup Tattoo by OneofWebs

[astaldis]

Fluffbruary - Cat (The Witcher TV)

Somehow and very unexpectedly, a cat snuck into my story at 2:30 in the morning and insisted on being written.

Thanks for the prompt, @fluffbruary !!!

This is the beginning of Chapter 13 (sorry, the rest of the chapter has not been written yet) of "Earned Loyalty", guess Cahir and Gallatin deserve a little fluff after all the whumpy adventures from the previous chapters. For all the cat-lovers among my readers 🐈‍⬛

He wakes up to not only his shoulder aching dully where the arrow had hit him, but also to a strange feeling on his lower legs. Something heavy that is pinning them down. It radiates warmth, though, and he feels damnably cold, almost on the verge of shivering. The warmth is welcome. But what is it? With an effort of will, he forces his eyes open. It is pitch dark in the room. He listens into the silence of the night. Somebody is snoring loudly in the adjacent room, probably one of his soldiers. He can hear a soft, whimpering sound from there, too. Must be one of the children who is having a nightmare. He cannot even blame them. Being held hostage by a band of enemy soldiers must be traumatising and inspire all kinds of bad dreams. Maybe he should not have threatened to wring their necks? They have no way of knowing he would not do anything like this, at least not unless directly ordered by the White Flame. But the White Flame would not order atrocities that cruel unless it is absolutely necessary. Here, it is not.

Suddenly, when he carefully shifts his legs just a little, there is another sound. A low kind of humming. It is not coming from next door but from the foot end of the bed. Slowly, Cahir tries to sit up just a little. It hurts to move his shoulder but he is curious. His eyes have adapted to the darkness by now as much as simple human eyes can and it is possible for him to make out some rough shapes in the moonlight that shines in through the half-open window. There is a big dot of deepest darkness on the blanket where his lower legs and feet are. The sound is coming from there. A big black cat. It must have come in through the window. Maybe it is used to sleeping in this bed and does not care that an injured enemy soldier is occupying it tonight instead of its usual people? The purring is strangely soothing and with a soft groan, Cahir lies back down. A real bed with a mattress, clean blankets and soft pillows. He has missed that. And a fluffy, warm cat on top of it. While Gallatin and his men have to watch and take care of the hostages. They will not get much sleep, let alone in a bed. Maybe having got shot is not that bad after all ...

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

When Gallatin enters the room to check on Cahir as quietly as only an elf can do it, his eyes grow wide with surprise. In the flickering light of his candle, he can see a pair of big golden eyes stare at him. A huge black cat is lying curled up on his deeply asleep friend's feet. It must have snuck in through the window. Gallatin's lips curl into a smile. This is cute. He puts the candle onto the nightstand and sits down on the edge of the bed. The cat yawns and stretches extensively when he starts to ruffle its silky fur. Then it begins to purr so loudly, he is almost afraid it will wake up Cahir. And the young Nilfgaardian commander needs all the sleep he can get after having lost quite a bit of blood. But the injured knight only moves his head a little sideways, in the direction of the elf. Shit, with the candlelight illuminating Cahir's dreamy face, he would have real difficulty to decide who is cuter if he was asked, the cat or the man. Feeling a sudden, strong urge to not only stroke the purring animal but to also run his fingers through the human's curly hair, he stands up quickly. No, he definitely should not do that. 

"Gallatin?" Cahir asks drowsily, roused from his sleep by the elf's abrupt movement. "Anything the matter?"

"Ssh, go back to sleep, friend," Gallatin says, "everything 's fine and under control, don't worry."

"Good," Cahir mutters, closing his eyes again. "'m c-cold," he then adds miserably, shuddering in his semi-sleep.

It is not really cold in the room, a little fresh maybe from the draft from the window. Must be the extensive blood loss, Gallatin assumes. Or is Cahir developing a fever? He walks over to the window and closes it. The cat will hopefully tell them when it needs to get out. Cats are usually quite good and insistent at making their people aware of what they want. Then he returns to the bed to feel Cahir's forehead. It is clammy and cold, not hot. No fever, but his friend has started to shiver badly. 

"Alright, move your lazy, frozen bum over a little," Gallatin says, taking off his boots. "But careful, don't scare the cat."

The cat looks up irritatedly when Cahir stirs to make some room but it does not seem to mind much. It sits up and starts to lick its paw while waiting for the elf to get under the blankets. Still purring, it then leaves its place at the foot of the bed, comes closer and curls up on the pillows right between the two men. It must be used to two people lying under the duvets together - this is a marital bed after all. Gallatin snuggles his face into the cat's fur. Having this fluffy black barrier between them is quite fortunate. Without it, he might have been tempted to do something that he certainly should not. Not while Cahir is injured and hardly conscious. Well, most probably not ever. For it could easily destroy their friendship. But sharing a little warmth with a sick comrade should be okay, Gallatin suspects.

The cat purrs contentedly. It appears to agree.

[disdaidal]

A Touch of Cinnamon, part 2 | Roommates/Modern AU, Rated E

Finally regaining their composure, they stopped, unable to focus on drawing anymore. Cahir played music on his phone and reached for his secret stash hidden inside his small work desk. With a mischievous eyebrow, he smirked at Gallatin, whose eyes instantly lit up.

They listened to the music on Cahir’s phone while smoking weed. Passing the blunt back and forth between each other, their fingertips touched again, creating the same jolt of energy. There was a desire to hold hands; their bodies were so close yet far apart.

The ceiling above them slowly spun around and around. Gallatin chuckled and blinked his eyes, then shook his head, trying to shake away the dizzy feeling. His bleary eyes finally landed on Cahir, who had his eyes closed and his head tilted back.

read on ao3

[keyrousse]

Chapter 9 of "Identity" is up!

In which Cahir finally shows up in person (he is tagged as a character in this fic after all) and pushes the plot forwards by just talking.

There's also some action (not much, as I basically gave up on describing fight scenes).

[whump-collector]

Eamon Farren as Cahir in The Witcher 2x03

For @whumpers-monthly Issue no 21: Fake execution

[hanzajesthanza]

the headcanon that regis can hang from the ceiling to sleep or rest like a bat is funny on its own, but when i consider geralt and others in the hanza holding conversations with him like this, it’s made better by my understanding of this as just an advanced “neurodivergent sitting” technique

[hanzajesthanza]

i love when characters are completely right about something but because what they suggested was framed in like a throwaway humorously absurd way it just flies under the radar forever until the narrative hands you the very info and youre like ohh whoa. and then later when you're combing back through previous stuff youre like Hey wait

[tantumuna]

One Day the Only Butterflies Left Will Be in Your Chest as You March Towards Your Death || Gallatin x Cahir