#the witcher is one of my favorite things i am so sorry i cannot be normal about this Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[alpaca-clouds]

A Requiem to the Filler Episode

There is something I am realizing recently that I have been unkind to a simple concept of TV writing for most my life. And now that this concept is being killed, I honestly have to say:

Dear Filler Episode, I am sorry!

For most of my life I used to rage about filler episodes. I would argue the quality of a series based around how many filler episodes there were. I would get annoyed at all the filler episodes that usually would come with certain types of series.

But then the era of streaming started. And the filler episode started dying.

In the era of streaming, more and more TV, or rather streaming shows turned into what basically feels like 4 to 8 hour movies, rather than a TV show. The episodes are no longer episodic but kinda overlap, running into one another.

Shows no longer have like 13 to 26 episodes a season, but often just 6 to 10 episodes. And of course this meant that there was no longer any time or space for filler episodes.

Even some of the shows still airing on TV often get cut shorter than they usually did. Yeah, sure, there is this type of fairly easy to produce TV stuff that still follows old conventions. Some sitcoms fall under that, as well as most of the Copaganda shows.

And while some shows work like that, others really do suffer from this lack of filler episodes.

Here is the thing I did not realize about filler episodes in my younger days: While they might not advance the plot or the character arcs, they still allow the viewer something, that is now missing: They allow the viewer to get more familiar with the characters and the world they inhabit. You can explore character dynamics through filler episodes, you can allow side characters to shine a bit more, and you can just show off other aspects of the world.

I cannot help but think that something like the Witcher Show would have profited greatly from some filler episodes. And even with my dear Castlevania I cannot help but feel that a few filler episodes of just the characters travelling around. And while with something like Arcane might not quite work with a more traditional TV structure (it feels like a film trilogy more than anything), I would kinda wish for a simpler, cheaper LoL show that is more about travelling the world of Runeterra (let me dream).

I also remember that the crew of The Owl House for example were sad that they could not do certain filler episodes that they originally planned.

I mean, I am also thinking about filler episodes in terms of anime. For a long time we had the long running shonen being very heavy in filler episodes, because the manga always got too far ahead. So the anime crew - keeping the anime running always - had to come up with arcs to fill in the between stuff.

And yes, those anime fillers were often really bad... And I still will always have to admit, that all my favorite DBZ episodes were fillers or parts of filler arcs.

But yeah... I just miss filler episodes. I want more episodes of characters visiting the beach, and going off on a shopping trip, or just getting sidetracked by some other stuff.

[doberbutts]

The next time I see a dumbass take from a purist fan I might actually scream.

This ranges from "why couldn't Hugo Weaving come back as Elrond" Elrond? The elf that's supposed to be effectively early-to-mid-twenties equivilant at this point in time? played by an actor that's in his 60s when y'all are shitting your pants about a Proper Adult Elf being played by a guy in his 50s and how he's "too old" for the part??? The elvish rings CANNOT look like PJ's- that is PJ's concept art and they cannot legally use it. If something looks pretty dead-on similar [like Sauron's armor] it's because that's how it's described in the BOOKS and approved illustrations. PJ's take on elves in general is very specific to PJ and is largely NOT CANONICAL to the books- this is especially true of Elrond and Thranduil and sadly it looks like no adaption can get elf kings/lords right because it's unfortunately true of Gil-Galad in ROP as well. This is in fact one of my main points of contention with the Hobbit fandom sorry, I really do not like the characterization of Thranduil either in the movies or the party-king fanon within the fandom.

All the way to "netflix witcher is bad because they didn't include [thing from games that genuinely doesn't exist in the books] which completely ruins canon". Eskel can't talk about his child surprise mauling his face because that is GAMES CANON, not book canon, therefore an original work made for a specific adaption, that the other adaptions due to copyright laws legally cannot include. Triss and Yennifer can't look like they do in the games for the same reason- they can share the traits mentioned in the books themselves but they cannot be 100% dead ringers for their game counterparts. They can't use the background music from your favorite game locations. They can't adapt Gaunter O'Dimm. They can't show Geralt with a beard [which is, again, a change to established lore made by an adaption because books!Geralt hates having facial hair]. They can't show Ciri's heist with Jaskier [Dandelion]. They can't show the huge battle with the Wild Hunt over Ciri at Kaer Morhen. These are all games things. Netflix has zero rights to the games and why would CDPR sell off rights when they're about to produce another Witcher game themselves?

I am begging and pleading please learn copyright law and understand that adaptions made by different people will have different art direction and different casting decisions and thus be inherently different from each other even if adapting the same source material, and even your beloved adaptions that predate the currently-running ones have made serious changes to established lore that you're just used to because it's existed for so long.

[genavere]

Okay random question but what's your advice to fellow writers about when they get stumped? And we need to get past writer's block lol?

Sorry for the delay in getting to this. Had to finish the Febuwhump and then I was going to finish this last night, but....well, you know what happened, lol!

There are a few things that I do when I cannot write. This is just what I do, so it might not work for others.

1 - Do something else

Depending on the time of day, if I cannot write, or my mind cannot focus. I will either go do something else, take a nap, or watch some thing interesting. Maybe even read something. Anything that you try to force during this time will feel just that: forced. Sometimes, especially if you have vivid dreams, taking a nap and dreaming something can help get the gears going. But that is hit or miss.

2 - Listen to Music

When I want to write something, but can't seem to get the ideas going or the scene to play out. I will listen to music that fits with that scene. My youtube is full of playlists that I have dedicated to certain stories. Take the song Dynasty by MIIA - I have listened to this song for years piecing together a original story idea. When I need new ideas, I will just put my headphones on, listen to it on repeat, and pretend I am watching a music video of my story with that song. What scenes do the lyrics bring out? What does the music make me think of? What comes to mind as I sit there.

3 - Focus on one scene and write it

This is good practice to describe things, too. If I am struggling with writers block, I will take a scene from a movie or one you thought of and just focus on every aspect of it. Pick it apart piece by piece. How many people are in the scene? What is the weather like? Are they dressed in normal clothes? Is there anything odd about the scene? You don't have to try to write it like you might for a book/story, just take notes. Then after you feel you have enough written down, then start working them into sentences. They don't have to fit just yet. Practice with forming the sentences first. Once the notes have been made into their own sentences, then try working them together. Weave them back and forth, add ways to move them forward. Once you have all the sentences put together, see if you want to keep going. Add more to the paragraph you made.

4 - Read something or play a game

Sometimes it takes venturing into someone else's world and creative mind to think of your own ideas. Play a game like Breath of the Wild or the Witcher series to delve into a fantasy realm. Pick up a book by your favorite author, or a book you have read before. Read the scenes and envision them. You can take the time to either just focus on the story you are interacting with, or you can start asking questions. Take The Last Unicorn, book or movie. What would have happened if she could be changed back into a mortal? Would she have married the prince? Since she could no longer be part of her own kind anymore, would she have been lonely? Did she stay with the wizard? Could she have stayed with the prince even as a unicorn? Think about these things and write them down! It's how fanfiction practically started, lol.

5 - Sometimes it's not the lack of ideas

There are times when I am trying to write, the scenes are playing out in my head, but I cannot get the words down. It frustrates me, and I am pretty sure it frustrates many people. This is a way to also a good exercise for practicing your writing skill, but take a book and an empty notebook (you can type it, too, but handwriting always worked better for me), and begin writing what is written. Pay attention to how the words are used to describe things. Notice how the sentences flow together. Sometimes, it's not the lack of ideas, but the lack of knowing how to put the words together. Many times you will hear from writers, both published and not, from books, and everything else, that to be a good writer, you need to be a good reader.

These are just a few ways that I personally have worked through my own writer's block or when I can't think of ideas. I am pretty sure that there are more, but after a few days of writing this and going over everything, I think I covered the basics and the important parts.

If you have more questions, let me know. I'm always willing to talk and share ideas, tips, and just talk about things.

Thank you for the ask!

[green-nonsense]

Was going to reply but my message got too long lmao, sorry for the incoming rant @capisback

i'm not sure if they did, because i don't follow the news so not everything tends to reach me, but i know that for gazeta.pl, Lauren has stated that "sapkowski isn't tolkien and allowed us to write stuff he didn't write", probably because she knows fans of the source material are dissatisfied. Here's the thing though, there once *was* an adaptation of the witcher (dubbed the hexer) and people *were* a bit dissatisfied with it because it was trying to do its own thing (but some were happy that we finally had polish high fantasy). Easy example, Vesemir, instead of being a regular witcher mentor, he not only became a druid, but a druid circle was overseeing the training and mutations of young witchers. One minor character not only became a witcher but also Geralt's nemesis.

People like this show because it's cheesy and nostalgic, not because it's a good adaptation. The actual adaptation part is actually disappointing in places. In addition, it's very obvious that the creators were fans of the books, but were constrained to a budget and constrained to a timeframe (they only adapted the short stories), so the changes were at worst just strange choices, but they didn't tend to go against the spirit of the story. I felt that in that adaptation, Geralt is more talkative for example, but he is still extremely awkward in a different way. He is not as broody as the games or the new show depict him, but he is capable of being serious. Hexer even maintained Geralt's favorite headband, something neither the game or netflix show seem to remember was part of his character.

And saying "oh, well, sapkowski let us do it" Lauren, it's because he doesn't care. He doesn't care if it's good or bad. I think that for him, it's publicity for the books. That's what happened with the games, and it's obvious that the netflix deal came to be BECAUSE of the games, Geralt's and Jaskier's look are very obviously based off of the games. Sapkowski has stated something to the effect of "intellectuals such as himself and his associates do not engage in media so low brow" about the games (i am not quoting him though, but these are his feelings on the matter). He's a self important snob who thinks nobody can do his story better than himself. Since the netflix deal is bc of the games, i'd wager that he might even be pissed off at it. I'm not going to speculate whether or not he is sabotaging the production by letting them do whatever, but it certainly *feels* like it.

Which is why this production just leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Everyone is being a dick here and the ones who are getting the shit are the fans who care about Ciri's story and Geralt's story.

And i don't even wish ill on the people writing and running the show. It's obvious they are creatively stifled and they want to create something else. But the answer isn't half assedly adapting a random adaptation they literally cannot care less about if they tried, and letting them do whatever they want.

This isn't a case of changing things from page to screen in a way that makes it flow better. They are actively changing the lore of how MAGIC CAME TO BE IN THE WORLD. They killed a major character that is important to the late books. Changes are to be expected when adapting, but not when they go against the nature of the story! Game of thrones, when having the source material as a bible and Martin as a consultant who told them what could not be changed as it would impact later narrative resulted in such an influential show that most fanstasy shows currently strive to mimic it, regardless of the fact that the show began to be lacklustre after a while, culminating in an awful finale.

I just. Am frustrated.

Yaaaass girlbossifying the psychopathic war criminal 😍😍😍

god this show is fucking stupid.

[man-bat-moved]

HI. PRAY TELL.... WITCHER AU??? 😳 i am listening.........

LMAO uhhhhhhh i started to answer this and then i accidentally talked to @boomtubes about the witcher au for half an hour

ANYWAYS its mostly just incoherent thoughts spawned by fun parallels between dc & the witcher. it all started with regis & clark and how they're both non-humans who care so so much about humanity and are nearly impossible to kill <3 the thinking has just spiraled out of control from there. so here's some of the incoherent thoughts because they are fun:

bruce becoming a witcher after his parents are murdered

all of the rest of the batfam haven't gone through any sort of mutagen stuff but have witcher training (ciri-style)

wanye manor castle becomes bruce's sorta-kinda witcher school. it is very cursed and haunted by everything that happened since being abandoned when bruce left to become a witcher. when bruce comes back after completing the trials its all full of monsters <3

alfred is either an old witcher who left the path and became a butler (and HIGHLY disapproved of bruce becoming a witcher), is just some guy, or has a weird thing going on like marlene from the blood & wine dlc (spoon alfred..............)

haly's circus was a group of elven performers so dick is an elf :)

ra's is a really fucking old sorcerer and talia is a sorceress <3

when jason dies bruce wonders for a long time if it wouldn't have happened if he gave the kids he trains mutagens...... jason is given mutagens after he is resurrected (that's how he gets the white streak).......... ough

clark is a higher vampire... im thinking he either was born on the vampire's homeworld and was yeeted into the kents' field as a baby during the conjunction of the spheres and they raised him OR he was born later and abandoned.

selina.....sorceress >:))))

ummm uhhh bruce and clark meet early on. like in bruce's first year on the path he goes to a town that's freaking out about vampires and in usual The Witcher fashion the monster isn't actually vampires BUT he meets clark who is also working on whatever the real problem is. they HATE each other but end up kinda sorta working together and bruce finally figures out/is told clark is a vampire just when they part ways. the next time they meet is like 5 years later lol

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

shelter me from winter’s bite

Everyone’s doing a hypothermia fic so I figured I may as well contribute. It’s one of my favorite tropes.

title taken from Brian Czyzyk’s poem “Hoarfrost” (he’s my favorite young queer poet and you should check him out).

tw: hypothermia, angst with a happy ending, whump with a happy ending

---

“Do you always have to be so damnably loud?” Geralt growls, glaring at Jaskier from across the small room. 

“My apologies for existing,” the bard snaps back. He’d only been rearranging his pack, looking for something reasonably clean to sleep in while his clothes were laundered by the innkeeper’s lovely wife. “I’ll try to do so more quietly from now on, good sir.”

Geralt huffs out a breath in passive-aggressive annoyance and Jaskier bristles. 

“Oh well, then. C’mon witcher, I know you want to say it!”

“Say what?” Geralt asks. His voice is low and threatening. He’s ready to play the game and by god he’s going to win this time.  

“It’s practically your motto at this point,” the bard hisses through his teeth, angry and bitter and tired. Geralt sees victory. Sees some peace and quiet on the horizon. “Say it!”

Geralt does as he’s told, like any good witcher would: “Fuck off, bard.”

“There it is!” Jaskier laughs joylessly, throwing up his hands. He pulls on his doublet and boots and heads for the door. “If you want me gone so badly, Geralt, then I will go. I’ll get out of your lovely white hair and leave you to mope in peace.”

“Fucking finally,” the witcher snarls, turning away. He doesn’t see the genuine hurt in Jaskier’s blue eyes as the bard quietly closes the door rather than slamming it. He doesn’t hear the quiet sob that rips its way out of Jaskier’s throat as he stands very still, shocked and suddenly exhausted all the way to his bones. He doesn’t smell the salt of his bard’s tears as he slips silently down the hallway and out into the late autumn night. He doesn’t notice the snow starting to pile up on the windowsill ahead of season.

He’s too busy being a self-flagellating moron to notice any of that.

---

Geralt is woken in the middle of the night by a commotion downstairs. He can hear several loud, panicked heartbeats and one very quiet, very slow heartbeat beneath all of those; it’s achingly familiar but the half-asleep witcher can’t quite call its source to mind. Geralt listens as the innkeeper barks out a series of sharp orders: “Meredith, you get to the kitchen and make some strong black tea! Florence, fetch a pail of warm water and two or three towels from the laundry. Josiah you lazy lout, get into the attic and fetch some blankets! The poor lad has gone blue all over!”

The witcher peers into the hallway and catches the skinny stable hand, Josiah, racing for the attic staircase. “What’s going on?”

“A farmer from the next town over was on his way over to help a friend’s sow give calf and he found-” the lad pauses to suck in a great gulp of air and launches off again “-and he found that friend of yours lying in a snowbank, muttering nonsense and shivering like a leaf. The poor fool didn’t have a cloak on him or anything, just a doublet and walking boots! He’s near-dead!”

Geralt curses and makes for the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reaches the main floor. There are voices coming from the kitchen and he follows them as if in a dream, his feet moving without aid of his conscious mind. “Jaskier? Is it the bard, Jaskier?”

“Are you the great brute what kicked him out?” the innkeeper’s wife asks, crossing her arms over her ample chest and narrowing her eyes. Geralt falters. 

“No, he- he left on his own, in a huff.”

“Wonder who could have started the huff,” the woman rolls her eyes. This isn’t about his status as a witcher, Geralt knows; this eye roll was made by a woman who knows a lovers’ quarrel when she sees one. Except that this stupid little spat might have cost Jaskier his life.

“Where is he? May I see him, goodwife?”

The woman points to a table in the corner, which has been cleared of cooking implements and cushioned with a heavy bearskin. Jaskier lies atop the brown fur, his skin frighteningly pale, his lips and fingers tinted a slight blue. Geralt rushes to his side and takes one of the bard’s stiff hands in his own. He brushes a stray lock of brown hair from Jaskier’s forehead and nearly recoils in shock from the temperature of his skin. Even colder than his hands, which are already dangerously frigid. If Jaskier cannot play his lute-

Geralt doesn’t even allow himself to finish the thought. Instead he works on rubbing small, careful circles onto the back of the bard’s hands with his thumbs, warming the skin in tiny increments: “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

The bard remains unmoving, heartbeat fluttering weakly, lungs barely drawing breath; Geralt fights back an overwhelming sense of panic, trying to recall whatever training he’d received at Kaer Morhen concerning freezing humans. 

“Do you mind if I take him upstairs and tend to him myself?” the witcher asks.

“Can you take care of him?” the innkeeper’s wife replies. 

Geralt bows his head, shame licking like flames up and down his bent spine, and nods. “Yes, Ma’am. I have dry clothes for him in our room and I was trained extensively for emergency situations such as this, all witchers are.”

“Alright,” she narrows her eyes. “But he’d best be alive come morning.”

“I’ll happily turn myself over to the village elders to be dealt with accordingly should the bard come to any harm,” he vows. Her eyes widen minutely and he can read the surprise in her body language, but she remains relatively calm. 

“Any further harm, rather. Alright, then. I’ll have my husband and the girls bring those supplies up to your room for him. We’ll be glad to go back to sleep.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Geralt bows formally. She blushes despite her irritation with him and waves him away. 

“Take your bard and go, witcher, before I change my mind and spend all night caring for him myself out of motherly pity. Go.”

Geralt hefts Jaskier into his arms, heavy bearskin blanket and all, and hurries up the stairs to his room. He will not let Jaskier come to any further harm. Not by his hand. Not by his word. Never again. 

---

Back in their room, Geralt quickly undresses the shivering human, peeling away what few damp layers there are with growing disappointment. Jaskier hadn’t been prepared for a walk in the snow at all! Although, to be fair, it hadn’t seemed that cold earlier in the evening and the snow had been sudden and heavy. 

He wipes Jaskier down with a warm cloth and slips one of his own clean shirts over the bard’s head. He tries not to let his gaze linger on the way Jaskier’s shoulders don’t quite fill out the dark material. Or on the way his dark, wiry chest hair peeks out through the open laces at his throat. The witcher quickly shuffles him into clean smallclothes and wraps him in a thick wool blanket. 

They sit curled before the fire and Geralt holds Jaskier against his chest. He hums with his voice like gravel, grating out one note after the other in some attempt to soothe the bard’s aching body. Jaskier shivers and shakes violently in the witcher’s strong embrace, his eyes clenched shut with the cramps that wrack his frame as his muscles return to their normal temperature. Geralt feels like he’s holding a porcelain doll and keeps his grip deliberately loose, tight enough to comfort but not restrain.

“G-Geralt,” he groans. “Hold me, please.”

The witcher squeezes his arms more confidently around the bard’s middle, burying his face in Jaskier’s soft hair and breathing deeply. The warmth that usually emanates from his busy human body is gone and his chamomile-honey scent is buried beneath a layer of damp cold; it feels wrong. Terribly wrong. Geralt murmurs against his temple, begging the younger man’s forgiveness: “I’m so sorry, Jaskier. Gods, I’m so sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me? I’m a fool, you know. I’m a fool witcher who never says anything important until it’s too late. I’m so incredibly sorry, my love.”

“This is a very good dream,” the bard sighs, smiling despite the pain. His eyes open, bleary and addled. “Like I was having in the woods, but better.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow and Jaskier seems to understand the unspoken question, even in his current sorry state.

“The real Geralt would never be so gentle with me, dear heart. You must be a dream, sent to me on my deathbed to ease my passage into the afterlife. There’s no other explanation for your sudden displays of tenderness.”

“It’s... It’s really me,” Geralt affirms. He runs his hand up and down the length of Jaskier’s spine, “I’m here, Jaskier. Can you ever forgive me for being so stupid?”

“I forgive you for being stupid ever other day, dear witcher. It is of no consequence to me.”

“It almost was,” Geralt frowns. “I nearly- I almost-” 

Jaskier’s arm raises weakly and his too-chilly hand presses to Geralt’s cheek. “I shouldn’t have stormed off like an idiot. I shouldn’t have kept picking the fight. We both fucked up, alright? What matters is our second chance. We got to have one, Geralt.”

“Hmm.”

“Am I wearing your shirt?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why?”

“Yours were all being laundered and this one was clean and it had been in my pack near the fire so it was already warm and-”

“Did you take care of me all night?”

“Hmm.” Geralt sighs after his hum and glances away for a moment. “What did you mean about... about the dream in the woods?”

“Oh. Well, when I was very cold and things were hazy and slow, I dreamed that you were there with me. Everything got very fuzzy and warm for a little bit, and when it was warm you were holding me like this and giving me little kisses. It was... nice. Even though I knew I was dying because you were being so soft, so considerate; saying things to me you’d never say out loud in real life.”

“I love you, Jaskier. I will try my best not to lose my temper needlessly,” the witcher swears. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Can we still cuddle like this?” Jaskier asks, leaning his weigth against Geralt’s firm chest. “It’s so nice to be held.”

“Of course. Anything you want. I’m not going to waste my second chance by treating you poorly. Not for another second, my beloved bard.”

“B-beloved?”

“Hmm.”

“Oh, well then I’m definitely still dreaming.”

Geralt lifts Jaskier into his arms and carries him over to the bed, which is piled high with their extra blankets. He tucks Jaskier into the nest against the wall and lays along the outside of the mattress. He presses his lips to the bard’s, reveling in Jaskier’s returning warmth, and smiles. “I’ll prove it’s not a dream. Every day.”

“Sounds nice,” Jaskier yawns, snuggling into the witcher’s arms and settling down to sleep. 

“It will be.”

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[vvitchering]

HELLO!!! For your character ask game! This is gonna be random and I tried to make it non-spoilery for MYSELF so here goes:

1) Renfri!

2) Jack from Dr Who (if there's stuff I don't know yet just skip it thank you >:))

3) Corn Cobb

4) 1 random Sailor Moon character from the 3 episodes you've already seen /D

5) Shrek (this one's on you)

THANK YOUUUUU ;D

Anna really making me haul my whole laptop out so I can dig into all of these hahahaha

UNDER ZE CUT

1) RENFRI!

First impression: I remember wondering if she was being set up as Geralt's love interest at first and I also remember thinking "okay yes I love her, she's badass, he clearly is intrigued by her, they're both people who have been wronged by society/the people who should have protected and loved them, they have great chemistry and are unbothered by each other's respective quirks, etc etc" AND THEN SHE WAS KILLED :')))))

Impression now: I am Angry about the way she was treated as a character. I know all the short stories were meant to kind of play off of existing fairy tales and make them darker, but damn why didn't Renfri get to live her best Snow White life ): She deserved to live. She deserved to make out with Geralt a bunch more times.

Favorite moment: THE SWORD FIGHT AHHHHH honestly I don't think I'd ever appreciated a sword fight in media until I saw the Renfri Vs Geralt one. Iconic.

Idea for a story: Once upon a time I did write a little tiny thing for @annablume's idea of pirate!Renfri and Lady!Geralt and honestly I am a little sad I didn't write more because that was truly inspired.... I still think about it sometimes, even now that I'm not really into Witcher stuff anymore.

Unpopular opinion: She should have been Geralt's girlfriend/wife instead of Yennefer. Sorry not sorry.

Favorite relationship: In case it wasn't obvious......Renfri/Geralt 5ever thank you goodbye

Favorite headcanon: She did not die!!! It was all a RUSE!!!!!! She faked her death, waited until Geralt left town, gathered up her squad, and she's still out there somewhere causing havoc and living her best life. You can rip this headcanon from my cold dead fingers.

2) Jack Harkness (Doctor Who)

First impression: I really cannot remember because I watched Doctor Who for the first time SO LONG AGO!!!! I think I remember not really liking him much? He's very much a snarky playboy at first and it's not as endearing straight off the bat before you get to know him.

Impression now: I liked him! He's one of my favorite reoccurring characters and while I didn't watch Torchwood, I'm glad he got his own show!

Favorite moment: I can't remember the episode number or title, but when they're on that space station that has turned into deadly game shows? That entire episode. Every one of his moments in that episode.

Idea for a story: I don't really think about stories for Doctor Who. I don't know why, I think the vastness of it intimidates me lol

Unpopular opinion: I don't think I have one for him!

Favorite relationship: I thought his kiss with Nine was pretty intriguing. If I didn't ship Nine and Ten so hard with Rose, Jack would be my next choice.

Favorite headcanon: I can't remember if this ended up being canon or not but he is the Face of Boe! I know I've seen it discussed before, way back in the day, during the height of SuperWhoLock.

3) Cobb Vanth (The Mandalorian)

First impression: Completely neutral. Just another weird space cowboy character. I thought his silver hair was cool though.

Impression now: A weird space cowboy with cool silver hair that I would commit crimes for.

Favorite moment: Any of the times he is actively being all marshal-y towards the townsfolk. The man EXUDES competence and confidence and we love that in this house.

Idea for a story: I always love to think about how a reunion between him and Din would go. I think he's someone Din trusts, having fought such a huge and powerful common enemy together, and I'd love to see them have some time to get to know each other under significantly less pressure. Just some quality bonding time. With some light making out. Maybe not so light, who knows!!!!!!

Unpopular opinion: The fandom is bad at writing convincing Cobb dialogue. People tend to either completely overdo the drawl or don't play it up enough to convey him convincingly. Maybe it's because I live in a part of the world where that accent is common and I hear it daily, but its VERY rare that I read a fic with him in it and the way he speaks doesn't make me cringe.

Favorite relationship: I like him with Din a lot! I think they have very good chemistry and have enough in common to get along pretty well. I also (along with maybe 2 or 3 other people) ship him with Boba Fett. I cannot explain to you why this ship works but I promise it does. I think its the "enemies to still enemies but they fuck sometimes to lovers" aspect.

Favorite headcanon: It's never shown or acknowledged in the show, but Cobb was raised a slave on Tatooine. He has a scar that denotes his status as such on the back of his neck. He also has a scar on the side of his face near his temple that isn't ever given an explanation. We know from the Prequel movies that the slaves on Tatooine have chips in their bodies to prevent them from escaping, so I think that scar on Cobb's face is where he was able to have his taken out or where he cut it out himself so he could escape from slavery.

4) 1 random Sailor Moon character...I'll go with Sailor Moon herself

First impression: She's much less of a commanding presence than I would have assumed! She seems like a very well portrayed teen girl! (I went into my first episode of this show with absolutely NO previous experience with it, and Anna has me watching from the middle of the 5th season)

Impression now: I've only seen three episodes and I think my first impression still stands. I knew she was young, but she really does come across as age appropriate as opposed to how mature some anime teen characters are. She's passionate, but in a very child-like way, and its offset a lot by her carefree and sweet personality.

Favorite moment: Literally any time she yells out one of those signature named attacks. They're so ridiculous, did NO ONE speak ANY English when these lines were approved lmao It's actually pretty fun to watch each episode and see how progressively funny the attack names get so that's enjoyable.

Idea for a story: I've only seen three episodes, we're definitely not in story imagining territory yet lol

Unpopular opinion: Again, I'm only three episodes in, so I haven't formed enough of an opinion about anything to comment on yet!

Favorite relationship: I've seen approximately 30 seconds of her with her canon bf Mamoru and they're fine I guess??? Little bit of an age gap but that's common in anime. He seems like a decent enough dude, he just has terrible taste in jewelry :b Anna is doing her best to subtly influence me in the direction of Seiya/Usagi and honestly I am not opposed to that. Seiya is cool and has enormous BDE which contrasts nicely with Usagi's goofiness and sweetness.

Favorite headcanon: Haven't seen enough to have any yet! :)

5) Shrek (Shrek)

First impression: This movie came out in 2001. I CANNOT remember. I do know that I saw it in theaters, though.

Impression now: Relatable af. I too would prefer people got out of my swamp and left me alone. I also tend to isolate myself because I often feel like an outsider no one wants to be around :')))))

Favorite moment: The whole development of his relationship with Fiona was very realistic and cute. The montage of her participating in the weird ogre activities he likes and genuinely liking them too was just....really good.

Idea for a story: I will not be writing Shrek fanfic,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,I did base an AU around Shrek once or twice though.,,,,,,,,,,,

Unpopular opinion: Human Shrek looks like Eskel from tw3. I will not be accepting criticism at this time nor ever.

Favorite relationship: I loved that he found a kindred spirit in Fiona <3

Favorite headcanon: I honestly do not think about Shrek enough to have headcanons.

THANK U ANNA <3

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Tagged by @artemisthehuntress. Thank you so much, this looks fun!!

How many works do you have on AO3? 216 (113 Witcher fics, 103 SPN)

What’s your total AO3 word count? 1,313,210

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? In terms of published fic, only The Witcher and SPN. But I’ve written for Lord of the Rings, Naruto, Hemlock Grove - none of which are available to me anymore :(

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Good as Gold, Lost/Found, Unwanted, Let Me Help, Where We Belong

Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes and no. I try so hard to keep up with them, but I genuinely forgot or don’t know what to say and then they build and build. Please know if you’ve commented on something I’ve written, as long as it was nice, I love you.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? The Ghost of You - I wrote it shortly after my own breakup, sorry Jask </3

Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written? I don’t anymore and I have only written one ever it was Johnlock and Destiel and I took it off ao3.

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Yeah. I try to avoid them/delete them but recently I was so mad about a comment I had to respond. Don’t send hate dudes. Don’t sent unsolicited concrit. Be nice.

Do you write smut? If so what kind? lmaoooo this is all I do. Pretty much all kinds at this point? I think the only things I will never write (at least that come to mind) are scat, vore, and severe underage. 

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Only if you count those mirroring sites

Have you ever had a fic translated? No, but the lovely @contemplativepancakes did a podfic for me 🥺

What’s your all time favorite ship? Hard to say. So far I love Geralt x Jask like no other but they are also very new to me and I don’t ship any of my first ships are much as I used to 

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I am more and more worried about Remember Me, I Sing the more time passes. I love it, but I don’t know if I’ll ever go back at this point. 

What are your writing strengths? Does writing smut count?

What are your writing weaknesses? PLOT. Cannot write a plot to save my life. You want 55k of smut? absolutely. 2k of pure plot? not gonna happen. 

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I love it! and I know there is a way to add a translation which is VERY COOL. 

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Lord of the Rings when I was 11 <3

What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written? Ooof hard to say. I am a big fan of Where We Belong (linked above) or one of the two I’m working on right now ;)

tagging: @writinglizards @contemplativepancakes @greyduckgreygoose  @julek if you want <3

[queenxxxsupreme]

I am really sorry for all those floods of thoughts and words and tears and laments, but I really cannot get over the fact what they did to Eskel. Unfortunately it’s you who have to deal with all of it, because no one among my friends haven’t watched The Witcher. So I am in that poor state where I am grieving after my favorite Wolf (and I found fanart of Eskel with Thue’s face and you can imagine how the thought that we could have it all broke my heart into pieces) and imagining Tree Man and how he would be if he was still alive. Going back to your question..isn’t that most of the personality of Eskel and Lambert was created by fans? They were not present in the books that much and in the games they were also secondary characters. You can have a HUGE impact on how people will see netflix!Eskel, because I personally think that your stories are the most accurate and you are my favorite writer in this fandom. And it’s not a compliment, it’s a fact. I was rereading your fanfics and while reading those with Eskel as a main character I have a thought that I totally see Tree Man calling his significant other or crush or anyone who he wants to seduce DOLL. I saw Eskel’s way of saying it as loving and gentle, pure sweetness and affection. Tree Man’s way totally otherwise.! It would sound so flirtatious and somehow provocative. Maybe because of what I saw on screen and read in Hissrich/Netflix crew descriptions of Eskel - I see Tree Man as someone confident in himself, arrogant and who knows what he wants. And way different than Lambert. I don’t see Tree Man as a grumpy and distanced man, just the opposite - open to people, rather talkative, but very moody. You asked about flirting and since they described Tree Man as someone who likes to celebrate with women and wine, I see him as someone who can flirt extremely smoothly if he wants. And unlike Eskel, I see him being better at words than actions. Tree Man likes when things go as he wants to, he wants things under his control and will do everything to achieve them. The more I think about it the more I see him as a sort of some bad character but in a way that he may be some sort of outsider who is very carefree? But since he still is like a brother to Geralt I can imagine him gritting his teeth and giving up on his plans for the sake of everyone. I don’t know, but I see him from my perspective as a person who believes that feelings are signs of weakness, so he would struggle to commit himself to people.But those are just my tropes. I am curious of yours!

🌻

To be completely fair…. Yes, most of Lambert’s character and almost all of Eskel’s are written by the fandom. But also the fans have taken elements from the book and the game to create that too! So there’s some give and take on both parts. But overall, fans did essentially create these personalities that we know as Lambert and as Eskel. So I think that because we’ve become to accustomed to these versions and these interpretations that it’s really crushing when we don’t see them in the Netflix version.

I honestly haven’t put thought into what Tree Man would call is SO! But now that you mention it, he would totally us “doll” in the way you described! He’d use it to be provocative and maybe even a bit demeaning at times if he’s talking down on them.

I really think we’re seeing Tree Man as the same person!! Because I see him as nearly the exact same way!

I do definitely see him as our Eskel’s not evil twin but…. bad twin. Tree Man isn’t evil, but he’s not good and sweet and pure like our Eskel. Tree Man tells adult jokes in front of ladies (whereas our Eskel would never because he’s a gentleman) and Tree man flirts openly in front of anyone and he curses and he makes snide comments. He’s like a chaotic version of Eskel. He’s sour and leaves a bad taste in your mouth sometimes but when he wants to, he can be good and he can be so sweet and nice and charming. It just takes a while to get under all that sourness.

I’ll make Tree Man come to life :)

[bamf-jaskier]

What the fuck is up with Triss and Geralt (in the books)

Hello! and in today’s wtf post, here is a summary of the relationship (or lack thereof, sorry Triss) of her and Geralt’s relationship in the books. 

TLDR: At the end of the day, Triss and Geralt have a clearly described mutual attraction to each other through all the books. However, Geralt’s attraction to Triss does not compare to his love for Yennefer and as such, despite Triss and Geralt sleeping together once, they set boundaries and relegate each other to friends. Geralt never fully stops being slightly drawn to and sympathetic towards Triss and Triss never fully falls out of love with Geralt. 

CW for minority graphic depictions of violence (standard for the books)

More under the cut:

So, let’s start out with their backstory. Here’s a snippet describing their hook-up from Blood of Elves. 

Then Geralt of Rivia appeared. A witcher leading a stormy life, and tied to her good friend Yennefer in a strange, turbulent and almost violent relationship.

Triss had watched them both and was jealous even though it seemed there was little to be jealous of. Their relationship quite obviously made them both unhappy, had led straight to destruction, pain and yet, against all logic… it had lasted. Triss couldn’t understand it. And it had fascinated her. It had fascinated her to such an extent that she had seduced the witcher – with the help of a little magic. 

She had hit on a propitious moment, a moment when he and Yennefer had scratched at each other’s eyes yet again and had abruptly parted. Geralt had needed warmth, and had wanted to forget.

No, Triss had not desired to take him away from Yennefer. As a matter of fact, her friend was more important to her than he was. But her brief relationship with the witcher had not disappointed. She had found what she was looking for – emotions in the form of guilt, anxiety and pain. His pain. 

She had experienced his emotions, it had excited her and, when they parted, she had been unable to forget it. And she had only recently understood what pain is. The moment when she had overwhelmingly wanted to be with him again. For a short while – just for a moment – to be with him.

So Geralt and Triss had sex once, and it is important to note that while CDPR took the interpretation that this meant Triss had assaulted Geralt and used that in their games, this is not explicitly said in canon. The single line “she had seduced the witcher – with the help of a little magic.” is also likely to be referring to how mages use transformation magic in order to alter their appearance to be more beautiful. This is mentioned by Fringilla in Baptism of Fire: 

She herself had regularly ridiculed the crude image painted by gossip and propaganda of the typical sorceress from the North: artificially beautiful, arrogant, vain and spoiled to the limits of perversion, and often beyond them.

Even then, Geralt has a pattern (similar to Yennefer as well with Istredd) of sleeping with other people such as Fringilla herself in Lady of the Lake when him and Yennefer are on a break. So it’s important to note for their relationship in the books, that there is nothing in the text that says that Triss assaulted Geralt and that is simply another literary interpretation of the relationship and not directly canon. 

Sometime after their hook-up Triss is presumed dead at the Battle of Sodden but goes to Kaer Morhen in order to teach Ciri magic. Here is Geralt and Triss’s reunion in Blood of Elves. 

“I’ll take your horse,” offered Geralt, reaching for the reins. Triss surreptitiously shifted her hand and their palms joined. So did their eyes.

“I’ll come with you,” she said naturally. “There are a few little things in the saddle-bags which I’ll need.”

“You gave me a very disagreeable experience not so long ago,” he muttered as soon as they had entered the stable. “I studied your impressive tombstone with my own eyes. The obelisk in memory of your heroic death at the battle of Sodden. The news that it was a mistake only reached me recently. I can’t understand how anyone could mistake anyone else for you, Triss.”

“It’s a long story,” she answered. “I’ll tell you some time. And please forgive me for the disagreeable moment.”

“There’s nothing to forgive. I’ve not had many reasons to be happy of late and the feelings I experienced on hearing that you lived cannot compare to any other. Except perhaps what I feel now when I look at you.”

Triss felt something explode inside her. Her fear of meeting the white-haired witcher, which had accompanied her throughout her journey, had struggled within her with her hope of having such a meeting. Followed by the sight of that tired, jaded face, those sick eyes which saw everything, cold and calculating, which were unnaturally calm but yet so infused with emotion…

She threw her arms around his neck, instantly, without thinking. She caught hold of his hand, abruptly placed it on the nape of her neck, under her hair. A tingling ran down her back, penetrated her with such rapture she almost cried out. In order to muffle and restrain the cry her lips found his lips and stuck to them. She trembled, pressing hard against him, her excitement building and increasing, forgetting herself more and more.

Geralt did not forget himself.

“Triss…Please.”

“Oh, Geralt… So much…”

“Triss.” He moved her away delicately. “We’re not alone… They’re coming.”

So they have a (bit) of a spicy post-death reunion where Geralt says some very nice and heartfelt things things that make Triss especially horny. Triss almost orgasms from a hug and kisses Geralt to avoid moaning (can you tell this series was written by a man yet?)

Then later, Geralt and Triss have a conversation about Geralt needing to reach out to Yennefer because Ciri’s trances and magic are becoming overwhelming. In fact, in this scene, Triss is pretty shaken up because she was just in a joint-trance with Ciri. So, post-trance in Blood of Elves Geralt brings up their past hook-up: 

“You have to get help from another magician. A more gifted one. More experienced. You know who I’m talking about.”

“I do.” He turned his head away, clenched his lips.

“Don’t resist. Don’t defend yourself. I can guess why you turned to me rather than her. Overcome your pride, crush your rancour and obstinacy. There is no point to it, you’ll torture yourself to death. And you are risking Ciri’s health and life in the process. Another trance is liable to be more dangerous to her than the Trial of Grasses. Ask Yennefer for help, Geralt.”

“And you, Triss?”

“What about me?” She swallowed with difficulty. “I’m not important. I let you down. I let you down… in everything. I was… I was your mistake. Nothing more.”

“Mistakes,” he said with effort, “are also important to me. I don’t cross them out of my life, or memory. And I never blame others for them. You are important to me, Triss, and always will be. You never let me down. Never. Believe me.”

She remained silent a long while.

“I will stay until spring,” she said finally, struggling against her shaking voice. “I will stay with Ciri… I will watch over her. Day and night. I will be with her day and night. And when spring is here… when spring is here we will take her to Melitele’s Temple in Ellander. The thing that wants to possess her might not be able to reach her in the temple. And then you will ask Yennefer for help.”

“All right, Triss. Thank you.”

“Geralt?”

“Yes.”

“Ciri said something else, didn’t she? Something only you heard. Tell me what it was.”

“No,” he protested and his voice quivered. “No, Triss.”

“Please.”

“She wasn’t speaking to me.”

“I know. She was speaking to me. Tell me, please.”

“After coming to… When I picked her up… She whispered: ‘Forget about him. Don’t torture him.’”

“I won’t,” she said quietly. “But I can’t forget. Forgive me.”

“I am the one who ought to be asking for forgiveness. And not only asking you.”

“You love her that much,” she stated, not asking.

“That much,” he admitted in a whisper after a long moment of silence.

“Geralt.”

“Yes, Triss?”

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Triss…”

“Only stay.”

“All right.”

Okay this scene makes me feel a lot of emotions because Triss knows she has to let go of Geralt and she genuinely wants to because she values her friendship with Yennefer more. But like she said, she can’t forget. And it’s also important that in the same way Triss asks forgiveness, Geralt is asking forgiveness too. He knows that he slept with Triss while still in love with Yennefer and while, like he says, he doesn’t think his mistake is unimportant, he is not going to pursue a romantic relationship with Triss. 

This scene is so important because it sets the boundaries for the two of them. Especially at the end with Triss asking Geralt to stay the night with her platonically, it’s them trying to re-gain their friendship without the romantic aspect. Triss is a pretty insecure character in the books. In fact, in an interview when asked what immediately came to mind when her name was mentioned, Andrzej Sapkowski said: insecure and red-headed. So her setting these boundaries for herself is important and Geralt setting these boundaries is important as well. 

After this, Geralt stays as as close friend of Triss, even comforting her when she recounts the Battle of Sodden (which btw is one of my favorite book Triss moments in the series, it’s so powerful). 

Then, Triss is traveling with Ciri and Geralt and gets very bad food poisoning and basically has to be nursed back to health by the two of them and Geralt has to literally hold her as she shits herself in the woods. So it’s nice that he’s being a supportive friends but also it’s a gross situation. 

On the road, when asked by Yarpen who Triss is to Geralt (Triss is currently very sick and asleep) he replies in Blood of Elves: 

“Who is this Triss to you?”

“What difference does it make in this situation?”

“In this situation – none. I asked out of an inappropriate curiosity born of the desire to start new rumours going around the inns. But be that as it may, you’re mighty attracted to this enchantress, Geralt.”

The witcher smiled sadly.

You can tell that there is a still a lingering sense of attraction. But it’s not love and it pales in comparison to what Geralt feels for Yennefer. So it’s important Geralt keeps up the boundaries he set earlier. But it’s not just Geralt who has trouble letting go. When Triss is in the worst part of her fever she says this to Geralt: 

“Oh, Geralt,” she sobbed. “I so regret… I so regret that what was between us”

“Triss, please.”

“…it should have happened… now. When I’m better… It would be entirely different… I could… I could even—”

“Triss.”

“I envy Yennefer… I envy her you—”

“Ciri, step out.”

“But—”

“Go, please.”

It’s hard for the both of them, in my opinion Triss far more than Geralt but they both struggle. 

It’s important to note that at the end of Blood of Elves, Yennefer also finds out the whole story about Triss and Geralt from Ciri:

There was a subject which the girl [Ciri] instinctively and carefully avoided. But one day, she got carried away and spoke out. About Triss Merigold. Yennefer, as if casually, as if indifferently, asking as if banal, sparing questions, dragged the rest from her. Her eyes were hard and impenetrable.

Now, the next time Geralt and Triss meet, Geralt and Yennefer were invited along by Philippa to attend a mages’ meeting on the island Thanedd. Here is their meeting from Time of Contempt: 

They went over to Triss, who was shimmering in shades of blue and pale green. On seeing them, Triss broke off her conversation with two sorcerers, smiled radiantly and hugged Yennefer; the ritual of kissing the air near each other’s ears was repeated. Geralt took the proffered hand, but decided to act contrary to the rules of etiquette; he embraced the chestnut-haired enchantress and kissed her on her soft cheek, as downy as a peach. Triss blushed faintly.

So, Yennefer knows that they slept together but they all seem to be able to co-exist together which is good. Yennefer and Triss even have a sem-nice conversation about Ciri together moments later:

“They’re on excellent terms,’ Yennefer warned her gravely. ‘Be careful, Triss. Don’t breathe a word to him about–about you know who.’

‘I know. I’ll be careful. And by the way…’ Triss lowered her voice. ‘How’s she doing? Will I be able to see her?’

‘If you finally decide to run classes at Aretuza,’ smiled Yennefer, ‘you’ll be able to see her very often.’

‘Ah,’ said Triss, opening her eyes widely. ‘I see. Is Ciri…?’

‘Be quiet, Triss. We’ll talk about it later. Tomorrow. After the Council.”

“Tomorrow?’ said Triss, smiling strangely. Yennefer frowned, but before she had time to ask a question, a slight commotion suddenly broke out in the hall.”

This is an important conversation, because Philippa set up the Thanned meeting as a way to arrest Nilfgaardian mages such as Vilgefortz and Francesca and Triss was in on this planned coup while Yennefer was not. However, I don’t want to get too off-track, so back to Geralt and Triss’ relationship! 

Triss in Time of Contempt, mentions to Geralt that Yennefer is member of the mage’s council and asks Yennefer why she hadn’t told Geralt yet and this is Yennefer’s reply: 

“No, darling,’ said the enchantress, looking her friend straight in the eyes. ‘For one thing, I don’t like to boast. For another, there’s been no time. I haven’t seen Geralt for ages, and we have a lot of catching up to do. There’s already a long list. We’re going through it point by point.’

‘I see,’ said Triss hesitantly. ‘Hmm… After such a long time I understand. You must have lots to talk about…’

‘Talking,’ smiled Yennefer suggestively, giving the Witcher another smouldering glance, ‘is way down the list. Right at the very bottom, Triss.’

The chestnut-haired enchantress was clearly discomfited and blushed faintly.

‘I see,’ she said, playing in embarrassment with her lapis-lazuli heart.

‘I’m so glad you do. Geralt, bring us some wine. No, not from that page. From that one, over there.”

Then, Geralt asks Yennefer once he and her are alone and says: 

“Sure you didn’t go a bit too far?’ he asked coldly. Yennefer’s eyes flared violet.”

“Don’t try to make a fool out of me. Did you think I don’t know about you and her?’

‘If that’s what you—’

‘That’s precisely what,’ she said, cutting him off. ‘Don’t make stupid faces, and refrain from comments. And above all, don’t try to lie to me. I’ve known Triss longer than I’ve known you. We like each other. We understand each other wonderfully and will always do so, irrespective of various minor… incidents. Just then it seemed to me she had some doubts. So I put her right, and that’s that. Let’s not discuss it any further.”

So underneath this exterior, there’s definitely some tension and we see Yennefer’s possessive side come out. Needless to say, Triss isn’t going anywhere near Geralt romantically while Yennefer is in the picture. However, it is important to note that Yennefer still highly values Triss’ friendship, going so far as to daydream about her being in their lives if Yennefer and Geralt were to ever retire. 

Then, during the coup on Thanned, Geralt’s leg is horribly injured and Triss is the one who saves him (although she did help cause the coup in the first place). From Time of Contempt: 

Now Geralt could see nothing and hear nothing. He was sinking, submerging into something warm. He thought Vilgefortz had gone. He was astonished, then, when a fierce blow from the iron staff struck his thigh, smashing the shaft of his femur.

If anything occurred after that, he did not remember it.

‘Hang in there, Geralt. Don’t give up,’ repeated Triss Merigold endlessly. ‘Hang in there. Don’t die… Please don’t die…’

‘Ciri…’

‘Don’t talk. I’ll soon get you out of here. Hold on… Damn I’m too weak, by the gods…’

‘Yennefer… I have to—’

‘You don’t have to do anything! You can’t do anything! Hang in there. Don’t give up… Don’t faint… Don’t die, please…’

She dragged him across the floor, which was littered with bodies. He saw his chest and belly covered in blood, which was streaming from his nose. He saw his leg. It was twisted at a strange angle and seemed much shorter than the intact one. He didn’t feel any pain. He felt cold. His entire body was cold, numb and foreign. He wanted to puke.

‘Hold on, Geralt. Help is coming from Aretuza. It’ll soon be here…’

Triss basically drags Geralt to Tissaia and begs for help. Tissaia reluctantly gives help and Triss teleports Geralt from Thanned to Brokilon to be healed by the dryads and tells only Dandelion where he is and keeps Geralt’s location a secret. Both Yennefer and Ciri are missing after the coup. 

However, once Triss fully commits herself to the Lodge of Sorceresses, she puts  their well-being above all her previous connections. In The Tower of Swallows, she is even willing to let Geralt die as he didn’t serve the purposes of the Lodge:

“The information,” Yennefer said dully, “for his life. Save him, Philippa.”

“No, Yennefer.”

“Because it's not in the interest of the Lodge.” A purple fire kindled in the sorceress’ eyes. “Did you hear that Triss? There, you have your Lodge. You see their true colors, their true interests. And what do you think of them? You were a mentor to the girl, almost – as you put it – a big sister. And Geralt…”

“Do not attack Triss’ relationships, Yennefer.” Philippa retaliated with her own fire in her eyes. “We will find and rescue the girl without your help. And if you succeed, that's fine, a thousand thanks, because you will have saved us the trouble. You tear the girl out of the hands of Vilgefortz and we will be happy. And Geralt? Who cares about Geralt?”

“Did you hear that, Triss?”

“Forgive me,” said Triss Merigold dully. “Forgive me, Yennefer.”

“Oh, no, Triss. Never.”

While Triss takes many steps to try and find and save Ciri, she does nothing of the sort for Geralt and it appears that she has abandoned much of their friendship (and Yennefer’s) in favor of The Lodge. Despite this, Triss still showcases jealously whenever someone else mentions being involved with Geralt. 

For example, in Lady of the Lake, Fringilla is summarizing her seduction of Geralt and his responses and says: 

“December came,” she continued. “Then Yule, then the New Year. The witcher calmed down to the point where Ciri’s name no longer showed up in every conversation. The monster hunting expeditions, which he regularly undertook, seemed to completely avail him. Well, maybe not completely…”

She trailed off. She thought she had seen Triss Merigold’s blue eyes flash with hatred. But perhaps it had just been a reflection of the flickering candle flames. 

Seeing The Lodge like this is a turning point for Triss and she regrets joining The Lodge and her actions in The Tower of Swallows and says as much to Nenneke in Lady of the Lake:

“I cannot go madly hurrying after Ciri to help her, I cannot run like crazy to save Geralt and Yennefer. Not only that, there is a war, which you have sent your girls… A war, that Jarre fled to and I am refused the possibility to even stand on a hill. To once again stand on a hill. Knowing this time, I’d made the right decision.”

“Everyone has their decisions and everyone has their hills, Triss,” the priestess said quietly. “Everyone. You cannot escape your own.”

This arc of jealously, betrayal, and love comes to a head when Triss accompanies Ciri and Yennefer to Rivia to try and rescue Geralt from an uprising. Yennefer rounds on Triss and the two of them have an absolutely vitriolic fight. From Lady of the Lake: 

Triss averted her face, determined not to give Yennefer any excuse. She did not expect it to work. For a long time she had been sensing Yennefer’s anger and aggression growing stronger as they approached Rivia.

“You, Triss,” Yennefer mischievously insisted, “do not blush, do not sigh, do not drool or wiggle around in your saddle. Or is it that you think because I agreed to your request that I want to have you with us? That I was interested in seeing you spend a meeting with an old love? Ciri, I asked you to go on ahead. The two of us need to talk!”

“It is not a discussion, it is a lecture.” Ciri dared to argue, but under the threatening glare from violet eyes, she immediately recoiled, clucked and galloped off on Kelpie on the road ahead.

“You’re not going to meet a loved one, Triss,” Yennefer continued. “I am not so noble or stupid enough to give you the opportunity, or him the temptation. But just for today. I could not deny myself the sweet satisfaction. He will know what role you play as a member of the Lodge. He will thank you for that with his famous look. And I’ll be looking at your quivering lips and trembling hands, I will listen to your lame apologies and excuses. And you know what, Triss? I will faint with delight.”

“I knew,” Triss grunted. “That you would not forget, that you would take your revenge. I agreed to this, because I was actually at fault. But one thing I must tell you, Yennefer. Do not count too much on fainting. He knows how to forgive.

“He knows what was done to him, of course,” Yennefer narrowed her eyes. “But he will never forgive you for what was done to Ciri. And me.”

“It is possible,” Triss swallowed. “He may not forgive. Especially if you insist. But he won’t fly into a rage. He won’t lower himself like that.”

“Yennefer flicked her horse with her whip in anger. The animal whinnied and leapt and the sorceress swayed in her saddle.

“Enough talk,” she snapped. “More humility, you smug viper! He is my man, mine and only mine! Do you understand? You have to stop talking about him, to stop thinking about him, you have to stop admiring his noble character… As of right now, right now! Oh I want to grab you by your matted red hair…

“Try it!” Screamed Triss. “Just try it, you vindictive bitch and I’ll scratch out your eyes! I…”

The both fell silent when they saw the cloud of dust as Ciri galloped back towards them.

That fight was particularly ugly and it’s built out of a lot of repressed feelings and betrayal over the course of the story that these two refused to properly address. However, the two of them put this aside in order to work together and fight together in the end of Lady of the Lake, but this post is not for analyzing Yennefer and Triss’ relationship so I won’t link the quote. 

TLDR: At the end of the day, Triss and Geralt have a clearly described mutual attraction to each other through all the books. However, Geralt’s attraction to Triss does not compare to his love for Yennefer and as such, despite Triss and Geralt sleeping together once, they set boundaries and relegate each other to friends. Geralt never fully stops being slightly drawn to and sympathetic towards Triss and Triss never fully falls out of love with Geralt.  

[im-the-punk-who]

Hey, I was wondering if you have a book rec

!!

Okay so in full disclosure, I have a really hard time reading books. My brain sometime around six years ago just decided that wasn't its style anymore, so I don't read a TON. A lot of these aren’t going to be recent releases. However, here are a bunch of books I would absolutely recommend checking out! I tried to include a variety of genres but I have uh.....five bookshelves in my apartment so if you're looking for more of a certain genre let me know!

Theatre:

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - Tom Stoppard

Waiting for Godot - Samuel Beckett

These are my two favorite plays - they're both absurdist, humorous, and have some fun things to say. They’re both by old white guys but like....I love both Tom Stoppard and Samuel Beckett DEEPLY and they have all of my love and respect.

Non-Fiction/Educational:

Why are all the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria by Beverly Daniel Tatum - this is considered a 'classic' on the psychology of racism, and was particularly helpful for me as a white person in arming myself against 'reverse racism' thoughts and in dissembling my own prejudices. This is mostly a rec for other white folks, but Tatum also addresses 'having the courage to sit at the black table' as a way of claiming your own identity outside of the stereotypes the dominant society expects of you.

Daring Greatly by Brene Brown - Okay listen I just really REALLY love Brene Brown, she is a therapist most famous for her TED talk about Vulnerability and this is just...listen I really like to read this book when I am sad and feel like shit because it makes me feel strong. I reread this book at least once a year.

Imagined Communities by Benendict Anderson - This is an absolutely fascinating read on the rise of nationalism. It’s a bit dry and wordy, but the ideas and use of history as propaganda, spinning the story of a nation to pit it against or on the same side as other nations, and the ways in which these tactics shaped cultural history is just!!!! Amazing.

Gay New York by George Chauncey - This is just one of the most informative and interesting reads of queer history in New York that I’ve ever come across. It’s one of the ‘must reads’ of queer history and has so many interesting tidbits that I have to recommend it. It’s a bit old(published in 1994) but I still find it relevant and interesting to read.

Personal Fiction/Autobiographical Fiction

White Girls by Hilton Als - I went to a reading of this book when it first came out. It was so much fun and so eye-opening for me as a baby queer in NYC that I bought the book there. I wanna be really clear that Als does not pull punches and a lot of people don’t quite like it, but I love Als’ style of writing. The stories and essays in this book are amazing and funny and heartbreaking and informative of queer experience - particularly black queer experience - that I always feel like...honored? to experience through writing? This is one of those ‘you’re gonna suffer but you’re gonna be happy about it’ reads - it can be hard to face because of how very hard the pills are to swallow but like....gosh I just love this book and it’s interesting and hilarious and great.

Confessions of an Economic Hitman by John Perkins  - this is my tin hat favorite. It hits....ugh. This is one of those books that came out and like every government agency freaked the fuck out over it. It’s an interesting look into the quote-unquote dark underbelly of capitalism; how and why countries manipulate each other through economic policies. Super interesting read with a nice style of prose.

The Know-It-All: One Man's Humble Quest to become the Smartest Person in the World by A.J. Jacobs Okay so full disclosure I have not finished reading this, but I’m far enough through to rec it. This book chronicles the author’s attempt to read the entire Encyclopedia Brittanica from front to back, and it is just as kooky and hilarious as it sounds. I am very incredibly and deeply offended this author stole both my schtick and my initials, thereby preventing me from doing this exact thing. I read through the phone book in its entirety when I was three. I had it in me. Anyway, this is basically the author just listing weird interesting facts he’s read about and connecting them to his daily life, but it’s a fun read, and you learn a lot of totally useless facts, which is absolutely my jam.

When Skatboards Will Be Free by Saïd Sayrafiezadeh - HI I LOVE THIS BOOK. I’ve read it maybe three times over. It’s so fun and interesting. You may notice that a lot of the books I rec are very absurdist in their humor, and this is no exception. This book is full of the dry wit and just weird goddamn shit you could only expect from the child of a revolution that never came. You want to read a book about someone who Went Through Shit? Read this book. It’s funny and heartbreaking and just. AHHHH. Seriously I cannot recommend this enough.

Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosch - FIGHT ME ON THIS. I love this book.....so much. Yes it’s technically a comic book but the stories are so INTERESTING and hilarious and full of exactly the dry absurdist humor I eat the fuck up. Also! Allie Brosch recently released a sequel of sorts called Solutions and Other Problems that I recommend without even reading it.

Poetry

Pansy by Andrea Gibson - IF YOU ARE NOT READING THE POETRY OF ANDREA GIBSON WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING WITH YOUR LIFE. I cried seven times reading this book. There are only like 14 poems. Please please read this to break your own queer heart :)

Bloodsport by Yves Olade - This is a tiny book full of absolutely devastating poetry. Most of it has to do with the grief of relationships, but like....gosh I love all of Olade’s stuff. (Also!! This is available as a pay-what-you-wish pdf!!)

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón - This book focuses a lot on the author’s experiences of loss, and knowing that loss is going to happen. I’m completely devastated every time I read this.

Science Fiction/Fantasy

The Bartimeaus Sequence by Jonathan Stroud - So what if I am a dumb millennial I love this series. It’s another dry and deadpan humor, with weird additions and Stroud’s use of footnotes to absolutely crack me the fuck up means I gotta rec this. I just gotta. Four(I think?) books following the deeply unlikeable Nathaniel and his Djinn Bartimaeus, who just wants to eat humans and have a deeply enjoyable enemies to lovers plotline with his arch rival.

The Magic's Price Trilogy by Mercedes Lackey - Okay I know I’ve recced this before. I will rec it again. This was the very first series I ever read that featured a gay protagonist and I was. Devastated? Reformed? I latched onto Vanyel Ashkevron and I am never letting this depressed emo boy go. Try me, I bite. Seriously, this book was released in the 80s and yet it is still relevant, I still cry - god i LOVE this series SO MUCH. And, MERCEDES LACKEY actually invented unbury your gays, sorry I make the rule on that one. :) Also there are magic talking horses??????? Seriously please read this series I love it so much.

Fire Bringer & The Sight by David Clement-Davies - This is another series that was absolutely formative in my baby lexicon. These are books about magical animals and their inner societal workings and both books address the ideas of good, evil, darkness, compassion and good will, and destiny. I am obsessed with these books, they are some of the most interesting of the genre I’ve read, and so incredibly intricately written. LOVE these books.

Vampire Earth Series by E. E. Knight - The Witcher before it was cool. Sort of but like...there are schools of Cat, Bear, etc and it has COOL VAMPIRES I LOVE THSI SERIES. Basically, earth has been taken over by a race of alien ‘Vampires’ and follows a human involved in the resistance. The writing in this series is...wow. It’s so intricate and interesting and involved. I own the whole series because I love it so much, including the after-series hardback novels. I’m so messy and I love it.

Kindred by Octavia Butler - You know how people are like ‘YOU SHOULD READ OCTAVIA BUTLER!!’ ? You should absolutely do that. This novel is mindblowing and interesting and the pace and narrative are so so so interesting. Heartbreaking, god, horrific. Butler is an amazing writer and this novel, while my personal favorite, is not by any means the only of her books I would recommend. STORIES. STORIES!!!!!!!

Fiction

The Ballad of Barnabas Pierkiel: A Novel by Magdalena Zyzak - This book is so fucking good. It’s imaginative, funny, intelligent....it’s honestly one of the best fiction novels I’ve ever read. Again, dry, absurdist humor, this book sort of reminds me of Terry Pratchett’s style of writing.

The Call of the Wild by Jack London - This is a classic, a true classic. The social commentary of this book is so so good, London’s style flows and, personally, as a dog and animal expert, the anthropomorphisation of Buck and his fellow animals is just so well done. I love this book, it’s quite an easy read, and I reread it at least once a year.

Rolling the R's by R. Zamora Linmark - Okay. Okay okay!!!!!! I gotta take a deep breath about this one. This book is. Yuh. This is a bit younger leaning than the other fictions, focusing almost entirely on high school level characters, however the experiences and commentary is just so so good. Focusing on a diverse group of characters growing up in Hawaii in the 1970′s, this book addresses the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, race, immigration, education, and how we define who we are. I’m obsessed.

A Separate Peace by John Knowles - A heartbreaking novel about war, innocence, adolescence, and how we hide from our truths. It’s...so good, this book hurts me a LOT okay. The prose is phenomenal, the story is poignant, and it feels like I’m ripping my own heart out with a fishhook every time I finish it.

The Toss of a Lemon by Padma Viswanathan - This is one of those books I half recommend because it’s so good, and half because of the deep wealth of knowledge it presents the reader. The author’s use of her own culture is just....goddddddddd. Intricate and interesting and so delicately included in the narrative that you can feel the love the author has for it. It’s a long read and it took me almost a month to get through reading every day, but god. It’s so soft and amazingly written I both wanted to read it all at once and take my time with it. This is another one that deals with the duality of humanity and how we connect with one another. Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!

P.S. Your Cat Is Dead by James Kirkwood Jr. - I love this book I love this book I LOVE THIS BOOK. It’s fucking hilarious, entertaining, I literally laughed out loud at every single chapter. Hilarious and poignant and surprisingly deep, this book literally follows the journey of a man in which literally everything that could go wrong does. It’s fucking hilarious.

I hope that helped and gave you some new books!!! <3

[anarchycox]

Tagged by: @kaermorons

Name(s): Amanda, Anarchycox, AC

Fandom(s): Witcher, BBC Merlin, Kingsman, Dragon Age, Mass Effect

Where you post: AO3, and some small prompts, metas here on tumblr

Most popular oneshot by kudos: Your Soulmate Always Arrives Precisely On Time a kingsman merwin soulmate au, that is canon adjacent. It is soft and a bit feelsy and I am still really proud of it.

Most popular multichapter by kudos: The Courting Season with is a Witcher idiots to lovers crack treated seriously thing. God my favourite part is I am still getting comments either on chapter 4 or 7 about how can they be that fucking stupid and I always get to reply - don’t worry they get so much worse. That fic is sitting at 4,861 kudos currently which holy fuck.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Oh lord that is fucking hard with have over 250 fics up. Okay hmmm, no you know what I am sorry, I cannot pick? Might be because I am still getting my morning coffee but right now I love too many of my babies to exalt one.

Fic you were nervous to post: Slight of Hand to Steal Your Heart a bbc merlin merwaine fic i posted a month ago. Writing for a new fandom is always nerve wracking but this was especially so because it is an older fandom that is slowed down but still active with very established voices. So dipping your toes in can be very anxiety inducing.

How do you choose your titles?: Randomly? Sometimes lines from poetry tend not to be a song lyric person. I dunno mostly just oh fuck, here have a title because AO3 is demanding them.

Do you outline?: yesish. I know where we start, a couple set pieces and where we end but most of the middle is a giant blob of possibility until the fingers hit the keys.

Coming soon/not yet started: Some really good shit, if I do say so myself. I am just gearing into my story for the geraskier reverse bang, and it will be super fun. I have a bunch of ideas for bbc merlin, and finishing a few things in witcher. New year once I am settled in the house, god so much wording.

Prompts?: dig them! i don’t always get to them and feel bad about that, but they can be really fun.

Upcoming works you’re most excited about: my geraskier reverse bang, merlin pirate au I am going to work on with @thenerdyindividual and a few ideas that are percolating.

This is a long one so not tagging anyone but if you want to play feel free.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Fear Not, Fair Maiden

(Thank you @spielzeugkaiser for letting me write a story about your amazing art! This was so much fun and it’s so fluffy. I may have thrown in a little nonhuman-Jaskier as a treat but Jaskier doesn’t know so...)

Etheid is the baby green dragon that Borch rescues in “The Sword of Destiny” book. I thought I’d make that scene more interesting and less sad for everyone by sticking to the book canon version for this story.

---

Jaskier woke up somewhere warm and soft and definitely not wrapped in the raggedy blanket he’d fallen asleep with atop his worn bedroll. He groaned in confusion and rose into a sitting position on the soft feather mattress to better wipe the sleep from his bleary eyes. He was sitting on a beautifully carved mahogany bed with four posts and lovely hanging curtains made of pale pink gossamer.

“Where am I?” he yawned to no one in particular. 

In my tower, a voice echoed through his head. The bard leapt from the bed, suddenly alert and terrified of whatever had brought him here. The voice returned, slightly frightened in its own right and clearly looking to soothe. Don’t panic! I’m sorry! I probably should have introduced myself better. Come to the window, my sweet visitor, and let me say hello!

“You’re not going to eat me, right?” Jaskier squeaked. 

Of course not, Jaskier. You’re my guest. That would be highly indecorous of me.

“Monsters with manners. Finally some decent company.” Jaskier made his way confidently out onto the balcony surrounding the tower’s main room and glanced around. “Hello? How do you know my name?”

A large, scaly green head rose over the side of the balcony wall and Jaskier took an involuntary step back. A thin-slit reptilian eye blinked at him. Once. Twice. Then the rest of the dragon’s face and snout appeared. Do not fret, my dear. You are in no danger at all. I merely wish to see a performance.

“You want me to sing for you?”

That was not my purpose in stealing you, but I would not be adverse to some music later this evening. I’m sure your Witcher is already on his way here to rescue you. Jaskier swore he heard the dragon release a deep, dreamy sigh from its steaming nostrils. Ah, I wonder if he’ll climb the spiral stairs and try to avoid the traps or if he’ll fight me first and scale the outer walls. 

“Wait a second,” Jaskier held a finger up. The dragon paused its daydreaming and looked down at its tiny human captive. Well, mostly human from what the dragon’s senses could pick up. Perhaps a bit of dryad in there somewhere. The semi-mortal’s connection to nature was stronger than most; ancient in a way that drew the dragon to him in the first place. Well, that and the handsome, white-haired Witcher who kept the bard close to his side like a favorite puppy. “You kidnapped me so that you could watch Geralt rescue me?”

The dragon’s enormous snout bobbed up and down as it nodded. The bard leaned heavily against the balcony’s edge and released a series of hysterical giggles. Are you alright, Jaskier?

“How do you know my name?”

You met my godfather, once. Borch.

“Oh, you’re the baby green dragon!” Jaskier perked up. This was an old friend, then. “My, how you’ve grown.”

And my, how you haven’t, the dragon observed. If the bard didn't’ know any better it appeared as if the creature was raising its eyebrow at him. You don’t seem to have aged a day.

“Haven’t I?” Jaskier glanced down. “Perhaps I’m just remarkably well preserved.”

Magic, the dragon shrugged. Anyway that is not my purpose here. I’ve grown bored with my usual antics and wish for something better. 

“So you thought you’d make up some entertainment by bard-napping me?”

Correct.

“This is like a play, then? I’ve been given the part of Fair Maiden and Geralt has been cast as our White Knight? My Prince Charming, as it were?”

Yes, although you find Geralt’s animalistic tendencies and Witchery nature more alluring than any fairy-tale prince or wayward knight.

“Hey! Hands off my private, personal thoughts,” Jaskier cried, waving his arms at the dragon as if the gesture might sever their mental link. The dragon huffed out what may have been a laugh.

I cannot help myself, I apologize. My name is Etheid, by the way. So you can stop referring to me in your mind as Baby Dragon I Held Once.

“Sorry,” Jaskier shrugged. He laughed again, this time genuinely. “Do you think Geralt really loves me enough to come rescue me from an entire dragon? He knows you can’t be beaten with one or two flimsy swords.”

He is determined to find you, Etheid replied. He will be here in two days time. 

“So until he shows up do I just...sing for you, then? Is there any food? Oh, is there a bath!?”

You’re the most eager and friendly guest I’ve ever had, Etheid rejoiced. There’s food aplenty in the cupboard in your room. Wine, too. I also have bathwater ready at your request and I can heat it to whatever temperature you like. I even have costumes!

“Costumes!?” The bard beamed widely and clapped his hands together beneath his chin. He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet and even spun in a quick circle. “What kinds of costumes!? Is this going to be a tragic rescue? Is this going to be dramatic and romantic? You mentioned traps, what kinds of traps will Geralt be facing if he comes up the stairs?”

Eager to see your handsome Witcher again?

“Eager to make sure that he isn’t injured trying to save me from your lovely tower, here.”

He will be absolutely fine. These traps were made for squires to outsmart; he’s a Witcher.

“If he loved me as I love him,” Jaskier sighed wistfully, “Then this would be even more fun.”

Etheid considered telling Jaskier the truth about his Witcher’s romantic feelings for a moment but figured that it was Geralt’s job to do so, instead. The dragon could wait. The dragon could write such a fantastical scene that Geralt would have no other option but to admit his feelings to the jovial and kindhearted bard. 

There are dresses, of course, but there are some lovely robes as well. You can take whatever you like from the chest at the end of the bed.

“You’re going to regret saying that!”

Go ahead. Do what human things you must. I’ll heat the water and be on my way; dragons need to eat, too.

“No pesky villagers, please. Stick to wild animals so long as I’m your guest?”

I am not a heathen, Etheid scoffed. Deer only for now. The forest is fat with them.

“Excellent. See you after dinner and a bath, then. I’ll sing you some lovely ballads.”

About your White Wolf?

“I wouldn’t exactly say that he’s my White Wolf,” the bard blushed. “But yes, songs about Geralt.”

---

Geralt reached the base of the stone tower and squinted up. It seemed endlessly tall against the rocky mountainside and the blue of the sky. Jaskier was up there, though, and the dragon was probably nearby. The Witcher had chosen not to wear his armor for this particular rescue mission; it would only make him noisier and this was a battle of the wits. Dragons wanted to be outsmarted, not slain.

Geralt remembered Borch Three Jackdaws fondly, the golden dragon that had shown him such kindness and taught him that not all monsters were to be feared. Well, Borch hadn’t so much taught Geralt about the nature of monstrosity so much as he had reinforced a previously held belief. 

But that didn’t matter now. As he slid into the passage that led to the tower stairs his only focus was his stupid bard’s physical safety. 

No, Geralt, the Witcher corrected himself firmly. He is not your bard, he is merely a traveler who chooses to spend some of his free time dallying about with you. He likes writing songs about your adventures and that is all. 

He could hear the sound of a lute growing slightly stronger as he ascended, and kept his eyes peeled for any sort of traps or pitfalls. He sidestepped two swinging axes with ease and ducked beneath a flying crossbow bolt as simply as he breathed. This tower was for amateurs, not highly trained Witchers with unparalleled senses. Not the most graceful Witcher the Wolf school had ever turned out onto the path. Not Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier’s Witcher. 

---

Jaskier stopped singing suddenly and set his lute to the side, as planned. He laid himself out as Etheid had suggested, the white cotton robe pooling around his bare legs and spilling rather nicely off his left shoulder. He’d cinched a soft blue ribbon just so around the curves of his waist. His hair was ruffled just the way Geralt liked it; the way it was when he saw the Witcher’s gloved fingers twitch at his sides, clearly aching to touch him but too afraid to make a move.

He’ll have to make a move this time, Etheid said. Jaskier could hear the smile in the dragon’s words. Get in position! He’s nearly to your room, Jask!

“Jaskier!” the Witcher cried, bursting through the door only a moment later. The bard could sense Etheid just outside the window, hidden by a thin curtain that hung from the back of an ENORMOUS four-poster bed. Geralt was too excited to find his precious bard safe to care about the looming threat.

“Geralt! You came for me!”

“Of course I did,” Geralt rolled his eyes. “You’re always getting yourself into trouble.”

Ugh, you’re so right. He’s horrible with romance.

Jaskier stifled a smile but Geralt caught it anyway. 

“What’s so funny, bard?”

“My captor doesn’t find your rescue speech very romantic or amusing,” he said, pulling the curtain aside. Etheid’s large blue eyes were focused on the scene, waiting for something good to happen. The dragon had been bored for so long and he’d heard so much from Borch about this White Wolf and his loyal, loving bard. Jaskier whispered the next line as if Etheid wasn't’ supposed to be hearing it, “Perhaps you should make our little reunion more flowery?”

“Jaskier, I - uh,” Geralt swallowed hard and took a step forward. Might as well go for it, the Witcher thought. “I’m so glad that I made it back to your side in time. I’m so glad that you’re unharmed.”

“I knew you’d come for me,” Jaskier sighed, holding out his hand. Geralt stepped even closer, leaning down to press his lips against the petal-soft skin of Jaskier’s knuckles. The bard blushed softly and Geralt felt his own face heating up to match. “You always save me, even from the worst situations.”

“I always will.”

The Witcher had admitted his greatest secret aloud before he could stop himself and he watched the bard’s eyes widen even further. Geralt’s brand of gruff sincerity was unmistakable. 

“Geralt,” the younger man grinned, tears gathering in the corners of his perfect, cornflower blue eyes, “I knew you loved me back.”

“You mean...?”

“Of course, silly,” the bard laughed, throwing himself up off the mattress and into Geralt’s arms. “I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you brooding at that tavern in Posada!”

“Oh Jaskier,” the Witcher gasped. His lips found the side of his bard’s pale neck and out on the balcony Etheid released a happy, contented huff. “I would give anything and everything to know that you were safe.”

“My sweet Witcher,” Jaskier leaned back, cupping Geralt’s face between his hands. His weight was now being entirely supported by the thick arm wrapped around his waist and he reveled in the strength of his beloved before leaning up to kiss him. “Then you must know how I feel every time you leave me on a hunt. Or go to fight with Yennefer about something silly.”

The Witcher could only press their foreheads together and breathe in the happy, rain-shower scent of his Jaskier. “Hmm.”

Excellent, yes! I can’t wait to tell Borch and my friends about this! Etheid cheered. Congratulations, Jaskier! I’m so happy for you!

“Thank you,” the bard murmured. 

“Hmm?” Geralt hummed again, raising an eyebrow. Jaskier pulled his head away and shook it. 

“Don’t worry about it. Are you getting me out of here or not?”

“Can you walk in this getup? Will the dragon just let us go?”

Jaskier shot a curious glance towards Etheid, who nodded.

Tell him you can’t walk, though. I want to see him carry you off to his horse and ride away with the white robe flapping in the wind. Maybe he’ll even wrap his arms around you from behind to keep you safe. Like a real princess. 

“No, I can’t walk in this silly thing at all. Keeps getting tangled around my ankles; I’d probably fall down the stairs and kill myself.

Geralt swept the younger man up into his arms and grabbed his lute from its place on the floor. “Well, we can’t have that.”

“No, my Witcher,” the bard replied with a contented smile. “We can’t have that at all.”

---

And if one of Etheid’s curious friends kidnapped Jaskier a month or so later and three countries over then...oh well. More weird dragon friends for the both of them.

[puppy-phum]

thank you once again @yibobibo​ for tagging me ♥ even if, like I said, this is pure torture. I have so many sons that I’ve given up on counting them sigh but here goes.

favourite male fictional characters.

I took it that this meant ten so am going with that (tho am not gonna try and put them into order). am also sticking to all the characters I loved this year. and gonna ramble and add gifs so cutting it here. 

1. Liu Sang

The Lost Tomb Reboot/Reunion: The Sound of The Providence

I have so much love for this boy it’s not even healthy. it’s a bit funny tho bc once I started tltr, I didn’t really like him and almost forgot about him as the first season ended. he just felt so annoying and bitter in what I saw him, even if I did get that he had a Tragic BackstoryTM (I felt for him but well. tltr really made him hard to like at first). but then they brought him back in the second season with his sad puppy eyes and inability to handle his thoughts on wu xie and being all touch-starved and pitiful and whatnot and baam, I had the adoption papers ready. he’s wonderful and so strong and so smart and amazing. and liu chang as his actor has been wonderful (and he’s so pretty my god, have you seen him??)

2. Shen Wei

Guardian

never did I expect to just. fall into this hole after a year? I remember what a mess I was when I first watched guardian over a year ago, right after finishing the untamed. I was in shambles even as I knew how it would end. and now I’ve done this all again while also reading the novel and. my love for shen wei, especially bc it’s zhu yilong acting as shen wei? astronomical. I want to write poetry about him and his stupid responsibilities that he chooses to carry silently and his devotion to zhao yunlan and his love for his ppl and his didi and. I hope that one day I manage to write weilan bc I have this one idea and you can come pry it from my cold, dead fingers if it doesn’t get out there (am also super happy about the edit I made bc my god does he deserve at least that)

3. Cloud Strife

Final Fantasy VII

ok so stepping into the video games territory now. I was waiting for the remake like crazy and it was everything to me once the quarantine hit during spring. the game is so beautiful and I felt like I looked at this gorgeous boy once and was ready to give him my heart (tbh am quite sure he owned my heart before I even learned to know him). he is tragic in so many ways (I’ve only scratched the surface of all of his pain I know) and I wish I could just. hug him a lot. he is kind and cares very deeply even if he hates to show it and I love it how remake showed him also just being a human disaster (some of his scenes are just. peak comedy). I would kill for his smile (I have already cried for it a dozen)

4. Geralt of Rivia

The Witcher (The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt)

if there’s one grumpy, brickwall of a man I love, it’s geralt. I affectionately call him “papa wolf” while playing witcher 3 and his voice in it does things to me (I am just so fond of him ok, begone you dirty fuckers). I got introduced to him through the books and adored him in them bc he is so prickly and sarcastic and still so full of love even if he will never admit to it. he is the father figure I wish I could have in real life. (and yes, I’ve seen the tv series (or at least a couple of the first episodes) and it looks stunning but. this is my version of geralt and that’s the hill I will die on)

5. Xiaoge

Zhang Qiling, Daomu Biji (The Lost Tomb 2)

(wow finding a gif for him was a pain, apparently I gotta learn how to gif or?) ah, my dear boy who I’ve ended up just calling xiaoge bc he seems to prefer it over his real name/title/whatever zhang qiling really is. I got introduced to him through tltr where we really didn’t get to know that much about him bc he was just... there. huang junjie was absolutely stunning tho and his soft smiles made me super fond, but only in the lost tomb 2 did I really fall in love with xiaoge as a character. I was surprised tbh bc I didn’t expect it to be this drama? I had so many doubts about the cast in tlt2 but they all delivered! and I think cheng yi’s xiaoge is now my favorite bc he somehow captured that softness and the pain of him? (and we do not talk about that buxun storyline tyvm) tho now that ultimate note is on the way, I gotta say that xiao yuliang does a wonderful job as xiaoge too!

6. Wu Xie

Daomu Biji (Ultimate Note)

(sorry we have to go with a pingxie gif now but maybe it’s only fitting) tbh it’s hard to choose my favorite version of wu xie. I think all of the actors for him have done amazing job showing wu xie in different parts of his life (all of them are very distinct but still feel like the same person) but currently zheng shunxi takes the lead. I really wanted to put the reboot version of him here (bc I love that mature, relaxed and somehow very soft version of him and the angst is phenomenal and the thoughts he has about death... yeah) but I already have zhu yilong’s face here once so :’D wu xie is just one of those characters you cannot not like. he is so strong, so kind, so stubborn, so wonderfully stupid sometimes and in need of careful protection. I also adore it how smart he is and I could listen to him spew history facts for 10 hours straight (even if it was in a tomb full of blood zombies) ♥

7. Jiang Cheng

Jiang Wanyin, The Untamed

my darling boy! my beautiful angry grape! I love him beyond words. I love him in all of his raging, misunderstood, stupid, sassy, constipated, abused, tragic, bitter, big hearted glory. I could write novels about him (and I did and am still writing oh boy) and his love for ppl and his inability to show that love and his loneliness and his issues. I could also write another novel for all of his outfits etc. bc damn, what a fashion king. he is just so great. he owns my soul. he deserves happiness and in this essay I will

8. Isana Yashiro

Adolf K. Weismann, K Project

I rewatched k project this spring bc a) it’s one of my favorite animes ever (it just looks stunning with all the colors) and b) I love yashiro to bits. I remember falling in love with him when I first watched k project many years ago bc he was just so kind and bright. this time though, I ended up seeing another side of him and my god did I cry. he is... so sweet. he cares for others so deeply and is ready to sacrifice so much for them and his love for his two clansmen... yeah. I think I finally saw the tragedy of him too, all the pain and loneliness and insecurity he decides to hide behind his smile and obnoxious personality. he reminded me a lot of myself and watching him made my heart bleed in a good way

9. Qi Tiezui

Ba Ye, The Mystic Nine

(wow am going to riot for the lack of all the gifs hhh) yes, we’re continuing with the dmbj universe that sucked me in big time this year. the drama of the mystic nine wasn’t probably that earth shattering for me as it somehow got boring more than once but I did love ba ye to bits. he was just... so nice? I got it that he was somehow this “comedic relief” in the drama with all of his funny scenes and ridiculous mannerisms but I could see the brilliance of him. he is warm and smart and kind of a romantic too and he cares for all of his friends so deeply? it was also sweet how protective of him his two zhangs were (does that run in the family? the tendency to imprint into one smart but disastrous man and keep him safe? maybe) and I really hope I knew more about him bc he seemed to have a lot of knowledge and a lot of impact to ppl’s lives (I yelled when they mentioned him in ultimate note, I miss him ;;)

10. Dorian Pavus

Dragon Age Inquisition

(yes I’ve been replaying DA:I this year, this counts!) another darling boy! my lovely sass master son! I have so much love for him and his story in DA:I. he is my favorite companion (and his romance is my favorite too, probably obvious in the way am currently romancing him for the third time) and he has given me a lot of strength. the way he stands up against his father, how he’s ready to reform his homeland instead of walking away, how he’s so caring for those he sees struggling... it’s very warming and I feel like I’m safe with him. it feels a bit silly to say that but he really is that comfort character I will seek out when I just want to know am doing fine :’) (and I am so excited to see him again in DA4! probably?)

+ 11. Li Cu

Tomb of the Sea

yes I cheated a bit (with my own rules lol) to fit li cu here. I didn’t really expect to like him or tomb of the sea as much as I did once I started it? I’ve seen leo wu elsewhere before this (battle through the heavens, nirvana in fire) and his face always makes me think about a sad puppy so maybe I just grew fond over li cu instantly bc he was... so hurt? the first episode really slaps you in the face with all of it, showing him being abused, wounded, kidnapped, tortured, used and then just very, very scared and broken. he continues being that throughout the whole drama and I feel like tomb of the sea (or sand sea or sha hai idk) is the darkest and angstiest story in the dmbj universe. I know it deserves to be bc this is a dark time for wu xie but... my darling li cu. I wish him only happiness ;; he was so strong and smart and wonderful in this and it was just so amazing to watch him grow and find his own place in the world just bc he did something himself (even when he got dragged into all of this bc of wu xie) also I support the wu xie adopts li cu -agenda

Honorary mentions: 

Zhang Rishan, Xie Yuchen and Hei Xiazi from DMBJ universe. The Twin Jades of Gusu and Ouyang Zizhen from The Untamed. The Iron Bull and Fenris from Dragon Age games. Thane Krios, Kaidan Alenko and Jaal from Mass Effect games. The whole lot of Assassin’s Creed protagonists (especially Ezio Auditore and Shay Cormac). Adam Parrish and Ronan Lynch from The Raven Cycle. Neil Josten from All For The Game. Eduon and March from The Smoke Thieves. Qiling from L.O.R.D. Critical World. Luo Fei from Detective L (played by Bai Yu). 

well, with this I can really see that I have a thing for those who are tragic :’D I have a thing for grumpy, prickly and antisocial guys or those who hide their pain behind a smile. maybe it’s bc I am somehow both, even if I can’t show my anger or be mean to others and even if I feel like my smile never sticks either. I just find kinship in all of the characters who are on this list. and I feel like I aspire to be as strong and as kind and as loving despite all the pain I’ve been put through.  

thank you, this was so much fun! and sorry I made this so long and so complicated ^^’ but well, there are just way too many male characters I love haha

at the end I want to tag @i-am-just-a-kiddo​ @ashenwren​ @kholran​ @tiesanjiao​ @lan-xichens​ @aheartfullofjolllly​ @manhasetardis​ and @lzswy​​ ♥ feel free to do this in your own way or not at all! and thank you if you managed to read through my rambling :’D

[owillofthewisps]

portraits hung in empty halls - part one

notes: fun fact i am about ten times more nervous about writing jaskier than i am about geralt, idk why! also daylights saving time is a farce and a personal attack on me, a humble woman trying to not have a destroyed sleep schedule.

rating: still teen, somehow!

pairing: geralt of rivia/female reader

word count: 3.5k

prologue

there is an odd little portrait tucked away in an alcove. at night, the canvas lies empty. most never notice it.

the Witcher does.

The sun sets, and you rise.

The silk sheet that shrouds you slips to the floor. In the dim glow of the candlelight, it glimmers like snow in the moonlight, the creamy white of it cooled to prismatic ice. You leave it puddled on the stained wood floor. You pad barefoot to the washbasin, adjusting to the lively hum of the inn, to the jolt of noise after so long without. It is never an easy transition.

The cool water trickles down your neck as you splash your face, the droplets rolling over your bare skin like an early spring rain, collecting in the dip of your navel before spilling onward. You turn to the tiny nook that shelves your clothing, your stiff joints moaning as they stretch and pop.

Rose, you think, spotting the verdant sprig of fresh mint placed carefully on the small stool. The bundle you’d pulled a leaf from yesterday had been wilting at the edges, the leaves curling in under themselves, like shy children covering their faces. You’ll have to make her something. Embroider her favorite gown, maybe, weave delicate little morning glories around the bells of her sleeves so they sway with her, as if she’s the dawn wind.

The mint tears under your teeth. It burns cold, searing away the heavy, oily coating that lays rotting on your tongue. You chew slowly, rolling the leaf through your mouth as you unfold your chemise and drape it across the stool.

Unwinding the thin golden chain looped messily around your neck and shoulders takes time. You tease at it, slip your fingers beneath the delicate, tangled thread of it. It is the daintiest tether you have ever seen, a golden, gossamer little thing, a strand of a spider’s web lit by the sun. You dump it onto the thin wood stand the washbin rests on.

Your earrings clink as you set them down next to the chain. It’s a relief to have them off, to let your lobes rest from the sharp pull of their hefty weight.

The homespun wool of your skirts rustles against the floorboards as you dress. You sweep the discarded jewelry into your palm; you dump it onto the silk sheet, watch as the gold sinks into the folds of the fabric.

You leave it all on the floor.

A few travelers tip their heads to you as you sweep down the inn’s halls. You sail past the small alcove that had so entranced Geralt last night, stepping carefully away from the shadowed niche.

Johan is waiting for you at the archway to the tavern. You’ve never thought of him as large, with his wiry frame, thin but strong, like a bowstring pulled tight, but he fills the archway. There’s still a faint hint of rot to him, something acidic tinting his strong, handsome features. You slow your pace, come to a halt before him, just shy of nose to nose, your skirts frothing over his feet like a wave breaking on the sand. The scowl knitting his brow deepens.

“If your intent is anything other than apology, save your breath.”

The flush flares into life. It spills crimson across his skin like wine, spreading wide. “Apologize?” Johan snarls. “When you’re the one who defended that mutant?”

“Did I not just say to save your breath?”

His hand flexes. You watch as his fingers curl into a fist, the knuckles gone bone white, and wait. There’s fear cut sharp into his visage, barely blanketed by the veil of anger on the surface.

“If you’ve nothing to say,” you tell him, “please move.”

That fist of his tightens again, his knuckles a ridge of mountains. The tendons in his jaw cord. “The Witcher cannot stay.”

“He paid his coin, just like the rest.”

Johan’s jaw works. “Stubborn bitch.”

“Careful,” you say, and there is crackling frost in your tone, winter come early. “I won’t tell you to save your breath again.”

He considers you, those green eyes burning incandescent, all sparking St. Elmo’s fire. Johan has often reminded you of a dog with a bone, setting his teeth into the marrow of his irritant and worrying it until he breaks it.

“Move,” you say, pleasantly enough, but with that ice still threaded through your voice. “Malinka’s expecting me.”

Johan lingers in the door frame for a moment more, a shadow of a threat, but he steps aside. You brush by him without a care; if you clip him with an elbow, well, he should have moved further. He’ll just add it to the list of wrongs you’ve done him, you think, and gods know that’s the least of your concerns.

The sounds of the tavern sweep over you. The clank of tankards, that thick hollow thud of wood against wood; the spitting crackle of the fire; chatter punctuated by uproarious laughter, rising to fill the rafters. It is a balm against you. Noise has long been something to steady yourself on.

You scan the room as you enter, and do not glimpse the Witcher’s broad shoulders. Nor do you see a hint of the bard. Your shoulders loosen, the tension melting out of them like winter yielding to spring. Malinka is behind the bar, her ebony curls flowing like a wild river to her shoulders, gleaming in the candlelight. She presses a quick kiss to your cheek as you join her.  Worried, you think. She is not alone in that.

“Ale!” Wren calls from the end of the bar.

“Coin!” you retort, sashaying over to him and leaning against the pitted wood counter. You pull a tankard from nearby, wincing as you flex your stiff fingers. They always take the longest to grow limber once more.

“Fair enough,” he laughs.

“Truly, Wren,” Annika says as she slides past with a tray of empty tankards. “Your mother would faint to hear your lack of manners. Tell me, how do the village girls stand your voice?”

“Yes, Wren, you’re lucky you’re charming when your mouth is closed,” you add.

“Beautiful and cruel, the both of you!”

You reach across the bar and pat his cheek. “Just a little,” you say with a laugh.

Annika snorts, passing you a tray. You nestle it into the crook of your hip and get to work.

The tavern only grows more lively, the gleam of light spilling from the doors cracking the darkness outside open. You whirl about, dipping around tipsy patrons, carrying plates of food high to drop them at tables.

It’s one of the busier nights, considering tomorrow is traditionally a day of rest, and you revel in the tumult, in the show of overflowing life. It keeps you light on your feet, moving until there’s sweat gleaming at the hollow of your throat. You dodge Elias’s hands with a laugh as you make your way back to the bar.

“So,” Annika says. “A Witcher, then?” Her slim hands move like water, smooth and flowing, pouring tankard after tankard between slicing off fat hunks of brown bread, still wisping steam even in the heated air of the tavern.

You sigh and duck beneath the bar to pull a few sausages from the small larder. “Yes,” you say. “Don’t you start.”

“There’s little for me to say.”

“And yet you so often say things anyway.”

She laughs. “True,” she says. “I’ve no quarrel with the Witcher, so long as he keeps his sword sheathed."

If Rose were here, that would not leave untouched - ‘which one,’ she’d say, her grin impish, her voice dropping into something sultry - but she is not, and you think you should try to keep thoughts like that from your head. At least until Geralt is gone, when there’s no danger to considering the thickness of his thighs and the knife of his golden gaze.

“I doubt he’s the one you should worry about,” you say, thinking of the way many men’s eyes had followed Geralt last night, malicious and hungry.

“Probably not.”

Someone calls to Annika from down the bar; she shoves the knife into your hand and gestures towards a loaf. You drop the sausages onto a nearby plate and start to slice the bread.

“I looked for you earlier. I didn’t think it would be so hard to locate such a pretty woman in the crowd.”

You glance up. The bard is smiling at you, his blue, blue eyes catching the light. You cast your gaze to the side, but Geralt is nowhere to be seen. Your grip on the knife’s handle loosens.

“I work nights,” you tell him, and if your smile is a little brittle, he doesn’t seem to notice. “Makes it hard to find me early. What can I get you?”

“Your name?”

“It’s a bit out of your price range, I think.”

He gasps, one hand flying to his chest. “Will you not take pity on a poor bard? How am I meant to write a song praising this inn and its lovely innkeeper?”

You arch a brow. “Why would you need my name for that, bard?”

He blinks. “Jaskier,” he tells you, and it takes you a moment to realize that he’s given you his name. “And because you are the innkeeper?”

“I’m not.”

“Are you certain?”

You stifle a laugh. “Quite,” you say, but then you take pity on him and give him your name. “Why did you think I was the innkeeper?”

“Ah,�� Jaskier says. “You were...forceful, last night, not that Geralt was particularly forthcoming about it. Also the serving girl said you were.”

Betony, you think, following Jaskier’s long, nimble fingers as he gestures towards the far side of the tavern. Betony glances up just then, and from the cheeky grin she flashes, she’s unrepentant. It’s harmless enough, nothing worth even getting irritated over, so you blow her a kiss.

“I’m not,” you repeat. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’m not sure you could disappoint, love,” Jaskier says.

You fumble with your knife, the tip of it sinking into the wooden board beneath the sausage with a hollow thunk.

My love, Dymitr murmurs, his lips brushing against the curving shell of your ear.

“Isn’t that what you called me this morning?” Rose chirps. She swings over the bar in a flurry of crimson skirts and wraps an arm around your waist. She still carries the chill of the night air on her skin. She presses herself against you, lets you use her as an anchor against the wave pulling you under. “Aren’t bards meant to be inventive?”

Jaskier gapes.

“Be nice, Rose,” you say.

“Rose?” Jaskier says, “Funny, I took her for a bramble.”

Rose snorts. “Be careful not to be caught on thorns, bard,” she says. She tugs at her shawl, lets it flow from her shoulders to the crook of her elbows like a waterfall. It catches against you. “You were looking for the innkeeper? What is it you want from me?”

You sink your elbow into her side. Her curse is blistering; down the counter, Wren cackles at her creativity.

“She’s not the innkeeper,” you tell Jaskier, who is looking somewhere between distraught and combative. “Rose, will you please get more bread?”

She laughs, the sound like woodfire smoke, billowing out in slow, low tones. “I suppose,” she says. Rose dips away from you, giving your waist one last squeeze, and heads towards Wren.

“Gods, do all women here worship a trickster god?” Jaskier asks. “If not, you should consider it. I imagine most would excel.”

“Probably.”

“Is there a test I have to pass to get the innkeeper’s name? If it’s a physical one, can I have a champion? Geralt would do nicely at that.”

You pull the knife free of the board and set it to the side. Someone calls for ale; you sigh and pour a tankard of it. “You can play,” you tell Jaskier. “We’ll give you coin at the end of the night in addition to any earnings you may get from the crowd. That’s why you were looking for the innkeeper, yes?”

Jaskier sets his hands on his hips, his long fingers drumming against the fine material of his clothes. “Do you just use some title other than innkeeper to confuse people?”

“Malinka’s the innkeeper,” you say, nodding towards her. She’s laughing at a nearby table, men drawn in a knot around her, an unknowing queen speaking to her court.

“Right,” Jaskier says. “You just make all the decisions.”

“She listens to me, yes, when she chooses to do so,” you tell him.  I raised her, taught her as much as I could as best I could, and she tends to honor that, you don’t say, trapping the words behind the gate of your teeth. It would only bring questions.

He chews at his bottom lip, bites the flesh pinker still.

“You’ll be paid,” you say. “No tricks, not about that. For last night, too.”

You wonder if other inns see the value in Jaskier, not just in his talent, but in his ability to reassure. There’s little doubt in your mind that his music has soothed many a ruffled feather that Geralt’s presence has caused. From the tongue on him, though, you think he’s also caused his fair share of trouble, too.

“You are a treasure despite your company of treacherous women.”

“Go play, bard, before I change my mind.”

Rose reappears as Jaskier heads towards where the fiddlers usually sit, his lute cradled against his stomach. He’s already plucking at it, discordant notes being corralled into something musical, something pretty.

“Do you think they’ll stay long?” you ask.

She lifts a shoulder in a lazily elegant shrug. “Hard to say,” she says. “I’ve had rocks speak to me more than the Witcher did.”

“Rose.”

“I know,” she tells you, cupping your cheek. Her palm is warm and callused against your skin. “It will be fine. No sense in worrying unless it’s needed.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“It’s not,” she says sharply, all thorn instead of her usual soft petals. “Do not make the mistake of thinking that I do not have fear.”

Jaskier starts to play. The music blooms to life, unfolds delicate and sweet. It seems an odd choice for the rowdy tavern, but the melody is a haunting one, one that slips beneath your skin and hooks deep.

Rose pats your cheek. “Don’t fret,” she says, an echo of last night. “Go help Betony, she’s such a distracted little thing.”

You snort, but there’s more than a measure of truth to it, so you wipe your hands free of breadcrumbs and pick up a nearby tray. Betony is half on Delythe’s lap. She’s plucking at Delythe’s thick braid, coiling it around her wrist and giggling. For her part, Del seems tolerant, the grin on her lips fondly indulgent.

“Betony,” you say.

“You’re no fun,” she says, but she gets to her feet, tugging on Delythe’s braid and pressing a kiss against her cheek. Her lip paint leaves a mark the color of a bruise, deep plum. The two of you gather empty tankards and plates, stacking them high on the tray. With Jaskier playing, everyone seems to fall into a rhythm. You duck between patrons with delicate precision. Each step is practically a dance, Betony matching you as the two of you dash around.

You can feel the night lengthening, can sense the moon tracing a path across the velvet sky. The moon always seems brighter as winter creeps forward. As if the coming snow reflects the light the moon sheds, makes it a disc of shining ice.

Elias catches you in a dance or two between servings; Wren pulls you along for a quick jig when you duck into the back room for supplies. Malinka sweeps you off your feet as well, laughing as she leads you before she twirls you into Betony’s arms. Jaskier’s music rises and falls, a piper’s call to the crowd’s mood. You let it envelop you.

Geralt appears as it grows late enough to perhaps be called early. Patrons are starting to stagger home, though there are a few gatherings tightly knit around tables, still nursing their tankards. Even with fewer present, there are still murmurs that follow the Witcher, little whispers that haunt his steps like an angry wraith. It makes your chest tighten. How quickly people turn on what they don’t understand. On what they don’t even try to understand.

He seems unbothered by it. You think again of stone, of the jutting mountain peaks, for Geralt’s face could be that of a statue’s. He has the jawline for it. Mostly, though, he has the smoothed expression of a marble bust, one just shy of human, as if the artist couldn’t quite settle on mood, caught between emotion and emptiness. It feels a false face. A shield, a barricade for humanity’s siege against his very presence to break upon.

You should leave, let one of the others serve him. You know that. Betony retired home earlier, but Malinka is just in the store room. Rose is not far, either. You should call for them. You know that. But Geralt finds you behind the bar, his amber eyes like firelight, and you stay.

The tankard clanks against the wood as you set it down in front of him. “Would you like something to eat?”

“If there’s something available.”

“I wouldn’t offer something I am unable to give.”

He pauses, the tankard halfway to his mouth, and you cannot look away from his parted lips. Your hands twist in the wool of your skirts, draw the fabric tight against your fingers. “Yes, then,” he says. His eyes flicker, and you think that is not what he wanted to say, that he has swallowed something down.

The plate is a simple one. Geralt seems a man who consumes only to continue, who does not yearn for flavor on his tongue. You keep it to a thick slice of brown bread and some salted meat. You wipe down some tankards as he eats, caught between the compulsion to stay and the whispering nerves that beg you to flee.

“What brings you here?”

Geralt pauses again, those golden eyes lifting to you. You feel heat rise in your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you say. “It’s habit to chat with patrons.”

He grunts.

You bite at your lip and scrub harder at the tankard, twisting the old cleaning cloth around your fingers until it is cutting into your flesh, until it almost hurts.

“There’s a village to the north,” Geralt says. “It has rumors of a beast, and they have coin. This inn is the closest. The village is small.”

“And by that,” Jaskier says, sliding onto the stool next to his friend and gesturing wildly, “he means it is a hovel of a town, more a collection of houses than a village.”

“I see.”

“Luckily,” Jaskier says, leaning forward until you think he will overbalance, “that means we have found ourselves here. It is a charming inn, innkeeper-who-is-not.”

“It’s just an inn.”

“An inn with good ale and food, and most importantly, appreciative crowds.”

“It’s just an inn,” you repeat, but from the way Jaskier’s smile lights up, he can hear the laughter hiding just beneath your tongue.

Jaskier starts weaving a tale for you, his hands fluttering about as he speaks, his voice falling into a cantering cadence that lulls you into the story. Geralt eats in silence, grunting here and there as Jaskier tries to reel him into the story. The bard elbows him once, lightly, and the withering look Geralt gives him could rust a sword.

It is not long after Geralt finishes eating that the two men rise. It is truly late now, the time when nocturnal creatures begin to slink back to their burrows, the time when the starlight goes cold and strange.

“Good night,” you tell them.

Jaskier chirps something back to you, but his words are washed away by the weight of Geralt’s gaze on you. It peels at the layers of you, cuts through to the bone, until all of you is laid bare before him. Your fingers tremble.

They tremble still when you trace their path to the hallway, pulled after them like a pebble caught spinning in the tide. You catch yourself before you follow them further. From your place just beyond the door, you hear Jaskier heave a sigh.

“Geralt,” the bard says, and you’ve never heard a tone that sounds like someone putting their hands on their hips in reprimand before, “will you hurry up? The painting will be there when it’s not a time when even the gods are asleep.”

The bite of your fingernails startles you. They cut into your flesh, tiny sickle moons against the map of your palm, constellations amid the lined sky of your hand. There are footsteps, then, receding down the hall. They ring in your ears long after the men are gone.

Rose finds you sitting near the hearth, your knees tucked up against your chest.

“I’m frightened,” you tell her.

She kneels at your side, a priestess at your altar, her face turned up to you like a flower to the sun.

“I know,” she says.

She waits for sunrise with you, lets you gaze into the fire’s light in silence.

You feel it when daybreak approaches. You close your eyes and surrender to the dark, to the velvet night that lives behind your eyelids. It feels easier like this. Gods, you miss the sun.

The sun rises, and you set.

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