#my witcher thoughts

[nicestmeangirl]

A tale in three acts:

[the-fatal-impact]

Actual slavic girl and her actual slavic girl diet.

[toss-a-coin-to-your-stan-account]

no bc i know other people have already said the idea but. could you imagine if this was the version of jaskier that rience tortured

like. can you imagine it. because i can imagine it and the thought makes me want to eat large amounts of drywall. i need it

[sillylilfang]

Reunion

(and there's a timelapse yippieee)

[naumaxia-art]

Opens up my wip folder: Oh look, another piece of side profile ship art, whooda thunk it XD

[hanzajesthanza]

characters in the witcher: *don’t fit into their prescribed social categories and canonical archetypes, subvert all expectations, and then have to deal with the emotional pain and loneliness that comes from that ostracization, of not fitting in, and of being treated like freaks of nature*

people: *surprised that LGBT readers like this series*

[majorlb]

Edwin is the fourth son of a minor Lord who gets sent off to school and seemingly forgotten about. While in school, his classmates decide to bully him by 'pretending' to sacrifice him to a demon. The ritual is real, but none of them hold any magic, so it fizzles out, but the minor rift they caused, the death of the boys and spike of Edwin chaos as it protects him, draw the eyes of the sorcerers at Ban Ard, who come and collect him.

The demon connected to the ritual also notices him, even if the ritual was never completed, and is now haunting him. Edwin will never feel safe, until the connection between them is severed.

He likes the school, likes learning. He does not like the other students, either at his own school or in the girls one. Sometimes someone flutters their lashes at him and he simply does not understand why.

He's safe at the school, until he isn't. And Edwin isn't a fighter, he doesn't know how to get rid of the demon (there are no books on half formed connections. they've tried all they can), so he runs. He runs as far as his legs can carry him, and stumbles, quite literately over a witcher. Ages are hard when aging is slowed or not existent, but the witcher himself is rather young, and bleeding profusely. So Edwin heals him, because he can't just let him die.

Charles was 7 years old when his father drunkenly pawns him off on a witcher passing through their little town. He'll never know how is mother reacted when she realized what had happened, but he hopes she's happy and safe with his little sister at least. That his father becomes a better person when he wakes from his drunken stupor and realizes that he gave away his only son and punching-bag.

He thinks maybe it was punishment for getting into a fight with 5 other boys, that he knew he couldn't win. But he also couldn't just stand there and let them beat up someone else.

His sense of justice serves him well at the school, during the trials, and the massacre of his peers. He holds it in a tight fist as to not take out his rage and grief on the humans around him who fear him for simply existing (they don't know better)

And then he meets Edwin, they keep each other safe and sane. Charles slays Edwin's demon. And Edwin gives Charles all the companionship, softness and love anyone could need.

35 years after their first meeting, Edwin tentatively tells Charles that he's very much in love with him. And Charles doesn't know what to do with that. Who hands a witcher something as precocious as their heart? But Edwin is everything, and Charles loves him more than anything, so.. "I love you too." They'll figure it out.

[thelostgirl21]

When I was a kid, I loved taking the bus and going to school with a stuffed animal.

One day, a little boy in the bus threatened to beat me up if I showed up with yet another stuffed animal on the next day.

So, on the next day, I entered the school bus with 5 stuffed animals in my arms, smuggly looked at him and silently challenged him to do anything about it as I casually walked by and went to take my seat.

Right now, I have the same emotion watching pictures of Jaskier with his red coat and long hair.

"Yeah, well, now he's wearing an actual long haired wig meant to mimic his real hair from Season 3 in Season 5. Whatcha gonna do about it?"

If you thought repeatedly calling an actor's 100% real, natural hair in Season 3 an "ugly wig", and continuously complaining about it, was going to make Joey go: "Oh no! I must immediately make sure my character has a hair style that meets those entitled jerks' aesthetic standards by Season 4!"

Well...

Seriously, Jaskier's coat, IMHO, is beyond iconic by now, and asking him to remove it would be like asking Spike on BTVS to stop wearing his long black jacket!

To me, it marks the moment, on the show, where Jaskier stopped perceiving himself as a sidekick in someone else's story, and became his very own protagonist as the Sandpiper.

He's no longer dressing like one would expect a typical viscount/noble or even bard to dress, nor trying to be what pleases others.

I personally love and have always loved the coat, although I fully respect those that prefer characters to embrace multiple styles in how they dress.

"I don't like the coat."

You don't have to! It's fine. Rock on!

"I love it, but I'd love seeing more variety in his wardrobe!"

I feel you! I get it! I empathize with your disappointment.

Same with the Season 3 hairstyle. You don't have to like it, and you are 100% entitled to wish the hairstyle of the character would continue to change and evolve in Season 4 and 5.

But, I remember reading posts calling Joey's hair "ugly", and "disgusting", saying the show "did him dirty", that you should "kill that wig with fire!", and downright mocking and belittling his physical appearance that went WAY BEYOND "not a fan of your hairstyle, but it's alright, you do you!"

And there's this deep instinct in me where, watching someone (even a character, although here people were perhaps unwittingly but that doesn't make it okay mocking Joey's actual hair) get bullied over a physical characteristic or trait of theirs, makes me profoundly fall in love with that physical characteristic, get irrationally attached to it, and wish to see more of it!

Therefore, I am rejoicing over Jaskier's gloriously beautiful delicate feminine bob having survived until Season 5 like you wouldn't believe!

It's everything I ever dreamed of, and it's fucking perfect!

Long live the bob! May kings forever celebrate it, and fellow bards write epic poems dedicated to its beauty!

[underthebluerain]

we met—in our mutual gaze—in between (insp & poem)

[swearingcactus]

ever since i heard this audio i always thought it'd fit rogue and lil v so here's to all the mom rogue enjoyers. a sequel of sorts to [this post]

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

I've finally finished reading the 7th Witcher book, The Lady of the Lake, the last of the Witcher saga. And I've got to say that there's something so sadly poetic about the fact that Geralt, the legendary monster hunter, ends up dying to some angry, common peasant with a pitchfork in the chaos of a starting pogrom against non-humans, instead of an actual monster. It fits into the pattern of how the books argue a lot of times that the real monsters have been people all along, not supernatural horrors. Geralt survives encounters with all manners of unusual beings, from dragons to vampires to strigas to people transformed into beasts, and many more. A lot of them are not resolved by killing. Some of them Geralt even befriends. Then his story ends with him getting killed by an average human man in a fit of violent xenophobia. He bleeds out in the street like a dog from absurdly mundane stab wounds, because human ignorance, hate, and intolerance are worse than any monster he's ever encountered.

[hannibard]

Geraskefer

[bilberry-jam]

Might I offer you another dandelion?

[lefttoesucker]

Rugged old men, my beloved <3

[coatiiii]

watching the witcher again and i can never suspend my disbelief to believe that people hate jaskier's singing. maybe i am biased because the amazing devil is my favourite band. but.

[hanzajesthanza]

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Regis’ eyes are jet-black. Onyx-black, dark as the darkest night, the purest night.

Because he is a vampire.

The eyes are the windows to the soul, and there is darkness and nothingness in there, a pleasant black void of murmurs and whispers that tickle the back of the head and make the eyelids heavy, that calms instantly, that evaporates fear, hate, love, pain. Makes one fall into…

Nothingness.

The soul lives on after the body has disintegrated into dust. The soul persists after death. What is death? What is a soul? And to a vampire? What can they be?

Dandelion witnessed the ghosts, visions of his friends, Geralt’s company, pushing the boat off upon Loch Eskalott. He saw three. Three, where there should have stood four. Alongside Milva’s braid, Cahir’s strength, Angoulême’s small hands, there should have been another. But there was only…

Nothingness.

This has happened before. This happened when they crossed the Jaruga, before Milva cut her braid. When their company was scoped out, felt out long-range magic—through the psyche of a dear friend. But where five stood, only four were seen. Because from such a magical scan, a vampire will not show up. Four humans, and where a vampire stands…

Nothingness.