#love me some witcher friendship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waterflowing-under-ground · 1 month

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I've seen some posts from people in the Witcher fandom (usually who are into both the Netflix show and the books) being confused as to why book fans think Geralt being mean to Dandelion (Jaskier) is a canon divergence in the TV show, when in the books, there are times when Geralt can be very cutting and even a bit mean to Dandelion.

My takeaway from their relationship in the books is that this conflict has the purpose of developing both of their characters (and serving as allegory because we KNOW Mr. Sapkowski loves allegory, and we love him for it! Or at least I do), and there's context around why they can be this way with each other. There's a rich history in this friendship, a comfort and casualness with one another that one wouldn't have with someone they weren't that close with, which in a lot of relationships comes with a safety to BE cutting and blunt with each other at times and know that having these conflicts is not going to mean an end to their relationship. They tend to move on from their arguments and all is forgiven (sometimes after a period of distance, but that's also normal after a hard conversation I feel - both parties sometimes need to process and lick their wounds, or wounded egos), and it's implied (at least to me) that their friendship is an "always" thing, even when they do blow up at each other, and even when the things they say are harsh.

Furthermore, there's so much "off screen" (off-page?) time between them that we don't get to see. But their closeness is implied by others and themselves throughout the entire saga and the short stories. And the things they say to other people indicate how important they are to one another as well.

I do want to point out that my personal take on their relationship is tempered by me being in my 40's and having more than one long term relationship (namely my closest and longest-running friendship which is going on 25 years now, and my marriage which is almost 15 years old this year) where there IS that familiarity and "safety" to sometimes have cutting conversations, or at least "brutally honest" conversations, telling each other things we might not want to hear, but perhaps need to.

My best friend, for example, saw me through a 6-year relationship that was actually abusive. She felt that she had to tell me some truths that I needed to hear, and while some things she told me were hard to hear during that period, I'm so glad she felt safe and comfortable enough with me to be honest about what she saw happening.

She is not a fuzzy-wuzzy cuddly person. But she is MY person. She has been my rock for nearly a quarter century. I would actually trust this woman with my life. I would donate a kidney to this woman if I were a match and she needed one. We are not cutesy fuzzy with each other (although most of the time we're warm, generous, and supportive like a certain witcher and minstrel duo). She's not the type to say "I love you" out loud, so we don't do that because I know that would make her uncomfortable (she's even like this with her partner of several years - some people just aren't as demonstrative with saying the WORDS, but it doesn't mean they don't FEEL it). But we LOVE each other dearly. We don't have to actually say "I love you" to say I love you to one another.

Because we're all human, we can even at times slip up and not be as tactful and sensitive with each other as we should be, or even in a moment of vulnerability get angry and snap (which is completely Geralt in Baptism of Fire). Some of the conflicts I've had with my best friend and my spouse can look a lot like what we encounter in the books between Geralt and Dandelion when they do get into a heated discussion or argument. But these relationships are, to me, "safe" and "always" in my mind and heart. I know we'd have to do something truly *despicable* and abusive to one another for those relationships to end entirely.

What I think people are saying, when they say, "Book Geralt would never *be mean* to Dandelion," isn't that Geralt could never *literally* be mean. It's that the portrayal of their friendship and the conflicts they could have were lacking any kind of context whatsoever. Furthermore, the Netflix show didn't make us believe they were ever MUTUAL friends who loved each other (mutually) in the first place, didn't do enough to build up their relationship and show its history and why they're so bonded to each other, why they're proud of each other, show us HOW the "opposites attract" thing actually works in their relationship, how they add value to each other's lives by having different but complementary personalities, why they had such a strong connection in the first place, why they loved each other, why they enjoyed and valued each other's company and place in their lives.

Instead they made it seem like Geralt was simply tolerating this silly little guy who gets him into trouble all the time, and then out of nowhere you get a tirade of verbal abuse that goes on about how this silly little guy ruined his entire life, and basically a "get out of my life" tirade which is extremely hurtful and broke the show character's heart (understandably enough). Geralt also punches Dandelion in the show, and while they have their share of verbal arguments in the books, Geralt never lays a hand on Dandelion, and even goes out of his way to protect him and save him from violence and physical danger multiple times throughout the entire saga.

Geralt's attempts to push the Hanza away in Baptism of Fire are often cited as the example of Geralt being mean, by Netflix viewers who are confused by book fans saying Geralt being mean isn't canon.

But I think book fans pretty universally agree that Geralt's "meanness" in Baptism of Fire actually stems partially from him wanting to protect the other members of the Hanza from danger, and partially from feeling like he's messed everything up so badly he doesn't *deserve* help or support, or that he can't *truly atone* for Ciri's separation and unhappiness unless he completes the mission entirely alone.

He tries to emotionally push everyone away by being, well, a jerk (which if one is looking to push people away, that can definitely be an effective way of doing so). But his friends see right through this defense mechanism, seem to intuitively know where it's coming from, and seem to understand what he's going through, and are not afraid to call him out on it!

They rightfully roast him for it, but in a way that to me comes across as loving, albeit tough love. To me it's in the vein of, "We see right through your nonsense, we know why you're being like this, because you think you're leading us right into harm's way and you don't want to do that, plus you're losing your mind because you're in a lot of pain and you've lost your daughter and de facto wife who you were JUST beginning to mend fences with before she and your daughter were ripped away from you, so you're freaking out and not being rational. This isn't going to work on us, we're not going to leave you, so just sit down, chop these veggies, and eat this fish soup with us, and shut up you silly man." My favorite moment is when Milva makes the remark about how wolves don't actually hunt alone. Wolves are, after all, pack animals who work as a team to survive.

Modern toxic masculinity harkens a lot to his idea of "alpha males" and "lone wolves" which is total fallacy and nonsense and runs completely counter to what real life is actually like. People, like wolves, are communal animals. We literally need one another to survive. Interdependence, not independence, is the optimal way of being human. Having love, comeraderie, and support are not just frivolities, they're necessities!

To close this, I think the heart of why book fans take issue with this portrayal of their friendship is that Dandelion and Geralt are the longest running thread through the series, each other's "always" person (which in a long lifetime often IS someone's closest platonic relationship, whether that be a chosen best friend or a close sibling for example), and they're so instrumental to each other's character development, that to bludgeon that in the show just runs so counter to what I feel as a fan of this series is one of its central themes, which is that nobody actually CAN do everything alone and without support, that being isolated and alone really leads down a dark path for us as human beings. By stripping away this piece of the story (Dandelion and Geralt's friendship in its true nature, not a contrived one) it fails to adapt the story on that level.

Keep in mind that these are just my opinions. If you made it this far, thanks for reading!

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starfirewildheart · 9 months

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Chapter 3

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 1717

They had been traveling for nearly a week. Naurel was getting stronger but Geralt was still worried. He knew something was not as it should be with her but he couldn't seem to get her to open up about the things that had happened. They came to the last city between them and the final part of the journey to Kaer Morhen. He knew they had to stop and restock supplies. Also, the humans needed a soft bed and warmth for a bit. They left the horses at the stable and walked over to the Inn. Naurel was leaning against him, holding his arm to help support herself or for his warmth, he wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he didn’t mind it. In fact, he felt at peace when they were touching.

Ciri heard someone singing inside the bar at the inn and bound up the steps. “It’s Jaskier,” she said excitedly.

“Ciri,” Gerault sighed as she ran inside ahead of him. “Damn it that girl never listens.” He and Naurel moved faster to catch up with her. Once inside Geralt grabbed Ciri’s arm and leaned close, whispering something to her that made her shiver and look repentant before he led her and Naurel to a table to sit. “Stay here where I can see you both while I get us a couple of rooms.”

Naurel waited until he walked away to put her hand on Ciri’s arm that was resting on the table. “You are going to get hurt or end up making him so angry that he’s going to punish you.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Please, he’s not my father. I have no family which makes me an adult. I’m in charge of me.”

“You are far from an adult little miss and you are showing that childishness more and more by the day,” Naurel warned. “He cares about you. He worries about you. Stop making it harder for him.” She knew that Geralt was struggling to figure out how to deal with a child. He knew how to deal with a misbehaved witcher but not a young human girl so he just took what she dished out. The yelling, arguing, not listening, stubbornness that she likely got away with as a spoiled little princess and Naurel was losing patients with her. Ciri was a loving girl but she was being a huge brat. She looked up at Geralt as he sat heavily in a chair beside her, noting that he put himself where his back would be up against the wall. “Everything alright?”

He nodded. “Got two rooms with an adjoining door,” he eyed Ciri, “and a large tub.” He grinned when Naurel sighed happily.

“Mmm, a bath sounds heavenly. Maybe if I boil myself I will actually heat my blood and stop having to steal your warmth,” she smiled at him.

He reflexively pulled her close. “I don’t mind sharing warmth.”

Ciri made a slight gagging sound drawing their attention. “You two need to get a room.”

“We have a room. Two in fact,” Geralt smirked at her. He loved their teasing banter when she wasn’t driving him mad with worry. Naurel was listening to the two of them and jumped when someone plopped down in a chair near her at the end of the table.

“Geralt you gorgeous beast, who are you lovely friends?”

Geralt shook his head and sighed. “Jaskier,” he nodded in greeting. He let Naurel and Ciri introduce themselves though kept his arm possessively around Naurel. Jaskier was a friend but he was also amorous and for some reason that bothered him where his newest companion was concerned.

“How did two such lovely creatures end up with such a grumpy, silent companion?” Jaskier wondered.

“He’s not silent nor grumpy,” you smiled at the bard.

“He’s grumpy and bossy,” Ciri teased.

The waitress approached and Geralt ordered food for the three of them before joining the conversation. “I’m surprised to find you this far north this close to the snowy season. I know you hate cold weather.”

“You are right,” Jaskier chuckled. “Oddly enough I’ve been looking for you. You are a very hard witcher to find. You would think with the white hair, yellow eyes, and rippling muscles that you would stand out more.” Naurel chuckled.

“Jaskier,” Geralt grumbled, stopping the bard from babbling. “Why were you looking for me? Is everything alright?”

“A friend, no, no she’s not a friend she’s a,” he stopped himself before he finished his thought. “Someone we have in common needs to speak with you. She’s rather insistent and very annoying and she keeps following me. I implore you, please speak to her before I throw myself off a cliff.”

Geralt paused as if he was considering the option of speaking to someone or letting him jump, only answering when Jaskier whined indignantly. He had an idea of who the bard was talking about but he wondered why she just didn’t come to him herself. He’d heard that she survived the battle of Sodden from Triss and he was happy to hear his friend was still alive. “Is she here?”

“I’m here,” Yennefer said from behind him. “We need to speak, alone,” she looked at the others pointedly.

He nodded and stood. “Jaskier, stay with them until I return?”

“Of course,” he smiled as he started asking both of them questions.

Yennefer led Geralt to an out-of-the-way corner near the stairs. She noticed that he positioned himself so that he could still see the table. “I need your help. Something has happened. I’ve searched everywhere, through all the lore about magic and chaos except the books at Kaer Morhen.”

“What are you searching for?”

“A spell,” she lied. “I am searching for a spell to try and help Istredd study the monoliths.” She wasn’t going to expose her weakness to anyone. It was bad enough that the old woman was in her head calling to her, telling her to bring both the woman and the girl to her; she wasn’t about to tell him she had lost her ability to do magic as well.

“Why doesn’t that ring true to me?” Geralt gave her a look.

“Fine, don’t help me,” she hissed and started to walk away.

“Yennefer,” he stopped her. “Portal to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is willing to work with sorceresses and mages. He will show you the books you are looking for.”

“Why don’t we just travel together?” she asked. “Seems like you seem to be gathering a rather large party on your journey,” she eyed his new friends. “I could help you look after them. They both seem sort of defenseless.”

He could use some help protecting them since Ciri seemed to be so dead set on getting herself hurt. Maybe with Yennefer’s magic, he could actually rest a bit. “You want to travel, on foot, in the cold. You know it will be snowing soon?”

“Please witcher, the weather does not bother me,” she scoffed and walked back to the group at the table. She made sure to place herself next to Naurel where Geralt had been. Jealousy made her blood boil when she noticed how Geralt looked at the woman. The witcher and his new child suprise were supposed to be her family, not this woman's. She was tired of life screwing her over and giving everyone else what was rightfully hers.

Geralt frowned but sat next to Ciri. “Yennefer has decided to join us for the rest of our journey home.” Naurel looked into his eyes in question but didn’t speak, Jaskier however did.

“I’m going to then,” he insisted.

“I thought you wanted to be rid of her?” Geralt asked.

“Rid of me?” Yennefer scoffed. “I saved your life.”

“No, you distracted him so I could run. That’s not saving me, that's being a tease,” Jaskier argued. Ciri laughed at the two of them.

Their food was served and Naurel picked a small piece off of her bread and ate it as she listened to Jaskier tell stories of his time with Geralt. The bard was funny and he had kind eyes. She liked him. She could see how he would get on Geralt’s nerves though with his knack for babbling and Geralt being stoic and quiet.

‘The redhead! Bring the red head’ the deathless mother screamed in her head over and over. It was becoming hard to ignore but she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on with the conversation. “Awe you left out the story of how the three of us met,” Yennefer interjected. “All bloody and dying because of the Djinn. Geralt, ever the protector, riding in to find me to save you.” She saw the muscles in Geralt’s jaw flex as he clenched his teeth.

“Well, he ended up saving you too,” Jaskier snapped. “More than saving you if I remember correctly.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

The bard looked up and quickly realized he’d said too much. “But he came to his senses!”

She closed the door behind her before laying on the bed next to her friend. “He thought she was dead,” she explained softly. She wanted to be sure she knew Geralt had not intentionally tried to hurt her though Ciri never realized that Yennefer and Geralt were mates.

“I know,” her voice choked as she lost her battle with her tears. “It’s my fault,” she repeated to herself more than Ciri. She took the comfort Ciri offered and allowed the young girl to play with her hair before she ran over to the chamber pot and vomited.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

#geralt x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic

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wren-of-the-woods · 10 months

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I hear you're where to go for Witcher fic recs! How about some with Geralt being protective over Jaskier? Shippy, if you can find any, but I wouldn't mind platonic! I just want Geralt to look out for his bard. Thank you for your time!

Hello!! Here's what I've got! There's a wide variety of settings and levels of angst, so hopefully there should be something for everone :D

As always, please feel free to add more recs or promote your own work in the notes!

Don't Leave Me by @geraskierficrecs (Rated M, 6.2k)

Jaskier’s hands tighten around Geralt before slowly losing their grip, spasming where they fall limp. “Ger--geralt--” “Don’t you dare,” he snarls back, “Don’t you dare try to give me your fucking goodbyes. You are not dying.” “S--silly man.” Jaskier’s smile is full of painful fondness. “Would you fight death for me?” Geralt swings him up into his arms and nearly weeps at the sound of familiar hooves running in his direction. “Every. Fucking. Time.”

If You Give a Bard a Lute by @ghostinthelibrarywrites (Rated T, 10k)

After Jaskier’s father disowns him, confiscates all his possessions— including Filavandrel’s lute— and kicks him out with nothing but the clothes on his back, Jaskier spends a long, hungry winter barely surviving. When he reunites with Geralt in the spring, his witcher is determined to get his lute back, even if it means recruiting his fellow witchers to stage a heist.

Wild Blue Yonder by @jaskierswolf (Rated T, 5.3k)

Geralt's bookshop is slowly falling apart and he's ready to give up when Jaskier wanders into the store

remember me I sing by @echo-bleu (Rated G, 3.1k - also includes Yennnefer)

Filavandrel's gift was so much more than a simple lute. It seemed fitting, that Jaskier’s soul would be made of wood and strings and beautiful sounds. The problem is that now Rience has his lute and is threatening to burn it if they don't hand over Ciri. And Jaskier has never told anyone that his very life is tied to his beloved instrument.

This Is How I Disappear by @stacyholmes (Rated T, 5.4k)

Jaskier keeps texting unknown number. Geralt keeps reading said texts without answering.

The Footsteps We Follow by thiswildheart (Rated T, 16.5k)

Look, Jaskier's got a lot going on. He's painfully aware that there are cataclysmic events happening and that the troubled teenager he knows might save the world or speed along the end of days. He's also in love with a man who's never even admitted that they're friends, which is almost as bad. Oh, and he's still working as the Sandpiper, only now a terrifying eldritch creature has entrusted him with the Song of the Seven to give hope to the elves and help them fight back against their oppression. It's probably the bravest thing he's ever done, but not everyone sees it that way. Luckily he knows some people who excel at last minute rescues. ... then he just has to figure out how to tell Geralt why so many people are trying to kill him. This is going to go great.

Getting Warmer (orphaned) (Rated T, 8.2k)

Injured and freezing after a kikimora hunt gone wrong, Geralt and Jaskier must wait out a thunderstorm at the bottom of a cliff, huddling for warmth. It is here that Geralt finally confronts his feelings for the bard.

Jaskier and Mountains Just Don't Mix by C4t1l1n4 (Rated G, 3.8k)

Despite the other Witchers' positive reaction to Geralt's bard, Vesemir is reluctant to have a human stay with them at Kaer Morhen so Jaskier attempts to leave and ends up almost freezing to death on the side of the mountain. Hypothermia fic

Immediately, I Love Him (He's Doing His Best) by @hum-my-name (Rated G, 26.5k)

"In which Greg is some sort of guardian angel, I don't know" <><> A few days ago, Joey Batey did an interview in which he created a lovely little character named Greg. A few days ago, I decided to write a cute little thing about Greg and Jaskier being the best of friends throughout the years, with a dash of Geralt and Jaskier friendship as a treat. 13k words later, here we are. Enjoy.

Broken Mirror by happy_hermit (Rated G, 2.1k)

To Geralt’s credit, he waits until they’re well away from Kaer Morhen to ask the question. He also waits until Yennefer and Ciri have gone to bed, which makes the whole thing feel a bit too calculated for Jaskier’s liking, which is to say that he doesn’t like it at all. “Where’s your lute, Jaskier?” Jaskier doesn’t quite flinch, though his heart does something of the sort all on its own. It is very much a wound that hasn’t healed; as is most of him, these days.

Echo by @kingthunder (Rated E, 29.5k)

Jaskier loses his voice the morning after a concert. As he and Geralt find new ways to fill the silence between them, they realize it isn't only Jaskier's voice that's been lost—and getting it back will bring them closer than they've ever been before.

If There's Any Sleep At Night by @smolalienbee (Rated T, 22.8k)

The mare is but a silhouette of a human and yet at his words something passes through her expression - whether it’s surprise, joy, fear, Geralt doesn’t know. But it’s clear that what he said has struck her in some way. (“She is not some mindless monster, Geralt.” He remembers Jaskier’s words.) A mare, also known as a mara or a zmora - a malicious entity, a bringer of nightmares and a demon of the night. An easy enough contract to fulfill, if only frustrating, or at least that’s what Geralt believes when he first sets out to hunt down one such mare. What he doesn’t expect is to be wrapped up in a tale of a wronged soul, of love and of joy.

Also, because I'm not above reccing my own fics, here's a few I've written!

Wash Away the Blood and Tears by me (Rated T, 1.8k)

Jaskier re-injures his fingers while distracting Nilfgaard from Ciri. Afterward, Geralt volunteers to help wash his hair. Or: In which Jaskier gets a bath and a nap, and Geralt gets a new role in the group.

We'll Build a Den Out of Pillows (And Get Drunk Again) by me (Rated G, 2k)

Jaskier gets sick. When Geralt asks how to help, Jaskier jokingly suggests that he build a pillow fort. He does not expect Geralt to take it seriously. Geralt takes it seriously.

If you want more, there’s a Protective Geralt tag on AO3 that I’m sure has many lovely works I haven’t read!

(You can also find my other reclists here)

#wren recs #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic recs #witcher #reclists #twn #asks #anon #am i getting a reputation? how fun!#i guess y'all are catching onto the fact that i have no self-restraing when it comes to reclists lol

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climbthemountain2020 · 3 months

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Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 5

Part 5/? | Ao3

Biggest thanks of my life to @witch-and-her-witcher who managed to talk me off a ledge this week. I love you, and I am so thankful for your friendship.

She turned to go and found Vincent lifting a hand in greeting to Vilja, who grinned like a banshee while waving emphatically back. Feyre probably should have been surprised to find they were old friends, but she couldn’t find it within herself to muster the shock.

Instead, she took one step then another towards Vilja, towards the woods, towards her future.

Feyre took Vilja’s outstretched hand, soft and weathered, in her own, and stepped forward into the woods just as the orange and pink rays of dawn broke across the sky.

Vilja did not follow any path, choosing instead to simply bob between the trees and thick brush. They did not exchange words as they traveled deeper into the forest, but Feyre enjoyed the birdsong and nature around them in the silence. Would such creatures exist the same way across the wall? She loved waking to the birds chirping with the rising of the sun here.

Did Rhys miss the sounds of the woods beneath the mountain? Did he miss the sun on his skin?

The thought was nearly enough to wrench her heart from her chest, and she was so focused on it that she nearly missed the question Vilja had lobbed back at her.

“How was your night, Feyre dear?”

“Not very restful, but I’m ready. How do we get to Prythian?”

“Excited, are we? All in good time. Come, sit.” The forest floor crackled beneath their feet as Vilja made her way over to a downed tree and lowered herself, wincing a bit as she did.

“Old bones, you see.” She patted her hip as she sat. “There are some...details we need to go over first.”

Details?

Feyre tried to control her breathing as she sat, every horrid scenario of a failed magical bargain she’d ever read about flying through her mind. Had she not been careful enough when she’d made it? Was this where Vilja told Feyre that her life was forfeit to her now? Feyre forced another deep breath into her lungs.

You have no reason to not trust Vilja. She wants to help you. She wants you to help her. Calm down.

As though seeing the conflict on her face, Vilja smiled soothingly rather than her typical mischievous grin.

“Just some information to help you once you arrive, love. Nothing terrible.” The relief in Feyre’s chest nearly swallowed her whole. She needed to get her wits about her before she made a fool of herself.

“Alright.” She shifted her small pack over her shoulder. “Tell me what I need to know.”

“I will bring you straight into Spring, and that’s where you’ll stay for the foreseeable future.” Feyre must have let the surprise show on her face. She made a note to be better about that, too. “Spring will need to be your first stop while you get a feel for Prythian. Do you think you could face–”she winced at the abrupt cut off “—it, otherwise?” Feyre looked at her, embarrassed.

“No. You’re right.” She hadn’t considered, but she realized now how woefully unprepared she was. As with all things, Feyre had rushed straight in. Now she needed to backtrack and form a plan.

“You’ll go to the High Lord of Spring and convince him to let you stay at his manor while you adjust. Your magic will feel differently once we cross the wall, and you’ll need to train it.”

“What are my odds that he’ll let me stay? Are the High Lords usually receptive to guests?”

“You’ll need to appeal to his heart. He’s a male with a strong sense of justice, and High Lords have a duty to serve the people. If you’re on his lands and mean him no harm, he’ll feel a responsibility for your safety and wellbeing, especially as a half-human. He might also favor having someone there to assist him when the other human woman arrives.”

Feyre wondered if he was friendly or rigid in his nature–she’d never been the best at making friends.

“Tamlin is a well-meaning but often near-sighted male. Some strong-handed support would be good for him.” VIlja’s smile was conspiratorial.

“You know him?”

“An old friend, but that’s not important.” She waved Feyre away as she stood again, bones creaking. “Come, the rest of this conversation can happen in the woods over the wall.” Feyre reached her hand out, wondering if there might be a horse or carriage somewhere that they would take, but before she could even get a breath, a cold, whipping wind had swallowed her whole. She went to yelp, but as soon as she opened her mouth, her feet were back on the ground as if she’d only taken a single, disorienting step.

Feyre gasped for air. “What was that?” But Vilja looked entirely unruffled, laughing even. Feyre took in her surroundings as she caught her breath, something other than the panic swelling in her chest suddenly.

They were still in a forest, but it couldn’t have been more different.

“That was winnowing.” As if that explained it all. But Feyre was taken with the forest around her, the trees practically glittering with the sparkling sun streaming through them. Feyre could see every single mote of dust floating in the air, catching the beams like golden fractals and bouncing them off the leaves. And oh, the flowers. She caught herself thinking how much Elain would love it here. There were colors Feyre had never even seen before, and the smells were so sweet and floral and light and strong that Feyre couldn’t separate any of them.

“It’s outstanding…” Her voice was a whisper in the air, and when she turned to Vilja, Feyre noticed she seemed satisfied with the reaction.

“Is the forest magical? Like in the stories?” Vilja walked closer to her, placing a warm hand on her forearm.

“No, Feyre. You are magical.” It occurred to her then that she could feel that dormant power roaring to life in her veins, swimming through her like a subdued presence that was brand new and still older than time itself. “Can you feel it? You must tell Tamlin you’re a half-breed. They will smell the magic within you, and you won’t be able to claim to be fully human. Shall we try your magic before I go?”

Feyre focused, and immediately could feel that new presence flitting around.

Hello.

The magic undulated through her, waving like a friend, and Feyre giggled.

“Will it to work for you, Feyre. Push it to your hands and visualize a flame.” Feyre could physically feel the magic seep down to her fingers as she imagined it doing so. She tried to imagine herself wrapped in fire like a blanket–warm and soft to the touch and comforting.

“Good, good. You have a grasp on fire already.” Feyre opened her eyes and gasped, her forearms, hands, and fingers entirely enveloped in that soft flame. Her eyes shot to Vilja.

“I’m on fire.” Vilja only laughed, nodding. Feyre closed her eyes again, focusing on that beautiful flame going dark like a candle in the breeze. She could feel the magic dancing within her as if it loved the conversation, the direction, and when she opened her eyes again, the flames were gone.

She could do this. She could own these skills, train them and use them to save Rhys.

As if reading her thoughts, Vilja spoke again.

“In your time here, you must remember things are almost never as they appear. Have your wits about you and be patient. Keep what you know to yourself, play your role, and do not forget the person you must be here.”

Patience. It didn’t come naturally to her, but she could do it for him.

“Thank you, Vilja. For everything.” Vilja did not hug her or kiss her cheek as Vincent had, but the emotion in her eyes spoke volumes. The apprehension buzzed beneath Feyre’s skin, but she straightened her spine and steadied her breath.

“Thank you, Feyre.” And Vilja disappeared into the air, leaving Feyre alone in the woods.

She’d mussed her hair, shoving leaves and twigs and dirt into it and smearing it down her face. She’d torn her clothes, rolling around in the mulch, and then she allowed herself a moment to think.

After Vilja had left, Feyre spent a while scouting the area. She wasn’t far from the edge of the woods, the great manor of Spring just on the other side. If she were going to be convincing, she needed to look the part, so she’d focused first on her appearance.

Her reason was clearer to her than it had ever been, the magic pulsing and thrumming in her chest just below her ribs, unable to be missed or ignored now like a steel string wrapped around her heart. She would live long enough to get to the High Lord of Spring, gain sanctuary, and figure the rest out from there. No matter what, she would find Rhys. Shaking her hands out a final time, she set out for the edge of the woods, and she ran. Feyre broke into a dead sprint, the light on the edges of the woods becoming larger and brighter in her sights.

The sentries would spot her the second she emerged. She would look startled and dirty and afraid, and they would consider her a threat until they saw her as a victim. Then she could put her plan into action.

She broke through the tree line, the bright sky cerulean and cloudless above her head. The view of the beautiful landscape would have stopped her dead if she hadn’t already been practically flying across the grounds as though the wind itself pushed along her heels. As soon as she saw a sentry running at her in her periphery, she startled and staggered. He moved with the speed of a wild animal, nearly blurring as she focused back ahead. It wasn’t hard for her to shift to the mindset of prey–the sentry gaining on her was enormous. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him closing in across the expanse of grassy hills. She missed a step as another sentry appeared, not having to fake her clumsy movements now that she had actually caught sight of the fae in motion. She worried momentarily that they may not even let her explain herself as she had planned.

Damnit, Feyre. Why would you think sprinting towards the manor looking like a creature of the forest was a good idea?

She stumbled then, her foot catching a slight hole in the ground, and she fell, sliding across the grassy ground and pulling the turf up with her as she did.

They did not slow in their approach. She knew she would need to become unthreatening fast, so she held up her hands and lowered her head, panting as she caught her breath.

“NO! PLEASE!” She’d screamed, forcing the tears to gather and roll down her dirty face as they looked at her in more concern now than suspicion.

Thank heavens.

“Miss, are you okay?” She didn’t have to fake the shaking in her arms as the adrenaline poured through her.

You have to think ahead, Feyre. They could have killed you.

She was suddenly painfully aware of her lack of knowledge of this place and the people in it, despite all the books she’d read. The two men were staggeringly tall, their shadows casting a darkness across her like two monoliths blocking the sun.

What had she signed herself up for?

“Don’t–the monsters in the woods. Don’t let them get me. Please.” She made a show of grabbing the taller guard’s arm, pulling herself nearly behind him as she looked to the woods, panting. “Please, I've been running for days. Please don’t let them take me.” She knew she’d succeeded when the guard’s arm wrapped around her back, and the relief she felt was immense.

“You’re safe now. Come along, can you walk?” She stood on shaky legs, the pumping of her blood and the actual threat of the guards making her performance all the more convincing. She let them lead her to the towering manor, covered in all manner of ivy and flowers. It was gorgeous if not imposing, stretching across the land as though it were a part of it.

She let her breath calm as they walked, but kept her outward appearance twitchy and nervous, looking over her shoulder to the woods often. The guard who’d spoken to her kept a hand on her shoulder, the other walking a bit further behind but keeping his eyes between her and the woods.

“Where are you from, Lady….?”

“Feyre,” she whispered. “I am from the Human Lands.” She had to think on her feet.

Why hadn’t she planned this more thoroughly?

“The Human Lands?” The shock was evident in his voice. “You made it through the wall?”

Think, Feyre. Think.

“I ran for days. The humans chased me out of the village, I–” She forced her voice to crack, making a show of wiping the tattered remains of her sleeve across her eyes. “My mother knew where the openings were, should anything ever happen to her. I’m half fae.” Perhaps she was imagining it, but she could have sworn she felt them both relax. She wasn’t sure if it was because they knew they weren’t transporting the solution to their curse, or if they were just happy to not have to explain to a human the basics of the fae.

“You’ve made it here, Feyre. The High Lord will keep you safe.”

“I can’t thank you both enough.”

Lucky. She’d been incredibly, stupidly lucky.

The guard went to respond, but stopped short. “High Lord.” Feyre’s eyes shot to the great marble steps in front of the manor, two towering figures haloed by the sun standing at the top. She demurred and lowered her eyes, falling into a polite curtsy as her muscle memory dictated.

“Who is this?” The voice that responded was filled with power, deep and resonant and with a magical strength in it that made Feyre want to relent and obey. It was not unkind, but it hit her with a force that begged to be heard.

“Presenting Lady Feyre, of the Human Lands. She is half-fae and was chased from her town after the death of her mother, seeking the lands of her father.” Feyre chanced another look. She imagined she could hear his relief– not my human.

The High Lord was tall and broad, an informal white tunic beneath a leather bandolier of knives. Though the sun shining behind them made it somewhat hard to see, she could make out a halo of long blonde hair, tucked back into a thin leather strap, and eyes that looked to match the hills of green grass that stretched around them.

“Hello, Feyre. I am Tamlin, High Lord of Spring. You’ve met Bron and Hart, and this is Lucien, my emissary.” His voice was no less deep or demanding, but it felt softened, as though the brief details of her story had been enough to make him empathetic of her situation.

She looked next to him to the emissary standing at his side. She felt a momentary sense of shock, almost doing a double take as she took him in.

Do we know any men with hair the color of fire? An eye of burnished gold.

Elain had asked her, half asleep, of a man–male–fitting Lucien’s exact description. What Elain had failed to mention, however, was his sleek yet toned physique, strong jaw, and sharp observation in the eye not made of gold.

Was every male in Prythian unbelievably large? Or just the ones she happened to keep stumbling upon.

Despite their appearances, she couldn’t help but think of Rhys in her mind’s eye instead. Nothing held a candle to his twilight eyes and soft, black hair. She marveled that she hadn’t ever felt threatened by his size or stature, either. He hadn’t at any point that night felt dangerous to her. She found herself missing him suddenly and sharply as she stood there at the stairs of Spring.

“It’s an honor to see your home, High Lord. My mother told me little about Prythian growing up, but said that Spring was the most beautiful of courts.” She knew from her time in nobility that, failing all else, a compliment could take you where you needed.

“Your father is fae?”

“Yes, though I never met him. He was of the Autumn court.” She saw Lucien stiffen almost imperceptibly at the top of the steps, his back straightening as though a cold wind had blown up it.

“What was his name?” Lucien asked, tone a bit more demanding than Tamlin’s questions had been, causing Feyre to bristle.

“I don’t know it, sir. I never met him.” She tried her hardest to keep the shy, innocent reverence in her voice as she spoke, but it was hot under the sun, and she was beginning to get annoyed.

“You certainly don’t look like Autumn court.”

“I favor my mother, sir.” She willed herself to not speak the words through gritted teeth, intentionally loosening her jaw and trying to roll her shoulders. She caught Lucien smirking and fought to keep what felt like the beginnings of a snarl off her face.

What was happening to her?

“You don’t need to call us sir. Come inside, Feyre. We were just sitting down to lunch.” Tamlin shot a look at Lucien, then nodded to Bron and Hart, turning to walk inside.

“We’ll still be finishing our rounds on patrol. We’ll see you both later.” Lucien nodded to the two of them, and Feyre thanked them once more as she set up the stairs behind Lucien and Tamlin. The two exchanged glances.

What could possibly motivate them to allow her inside and to stay so easily? What was in it for them?

Feyre stepped through the great oak doors and remembered what Vilja had told her.

"He might also favor having someone there to assist him when the other human woman arrives."

She was a bargaining chip, but if it bought her a place to sleep and food to eat, she wouldn’t complain.

The foyer of the great manor was beautiful, putting even the noble houses Feyre had grown up around to shame. The marble was checkered in stark, contrasting whites and blacks, gold lining the cracks and highlighting each shape in shimmering swirls.

Windows lined the walls, shining the bright sun of midday throughout the space and illuminating the area as though a thousand candles had been lit. Surprisingly, it didn’t make it hot indoors–an enchantment, perhaps, kept it cool, and Feyre sighed contentedly once she stepped inside.

“So, perhaps with a bit more detail, what has brought you to Spring, Feyre?” Tamlin held back a bit to speak with her as Lucien moved ahead to what she assumed was the dining room.

"Tam, she's clearly,” he turned back to look her up and down, taking in her disastrous appearance “--exhausted. She's been running for days. We can always ask questions later."

Tamlin lifted a brow at him, but nodded.

The dining room that Lucien had led them to was just as enormous as everything else. The table was easily long enough to seat twenty, though the food was all focused on one end where they all moved to sit. Lucien pulled out a chair and locked his eyes on hers as he made a great sweeping gesture to it.

Wise-ass.

She sat in the chair as Lucien pushed it in and took the seat across from her, Tamlin sitting at the head of the table. There was enough food here to feed a small army, and Feyre wondered if the staff here were treated like servants or if they lived well as Tamlin leaned over to whisper in one’s ear. The servant smiled at Feyre then scurried off. The two males began to load their plates, but Feyre wasn’t sure where to start. The amount of food itself was astonishing, and with her new sense of smell, she wasn’t sure what she was even seeing. Instead, she opted to continue speaking.

“Do you have powers, Feyre?” Lucien kept his tone light and conversational, as though trying to test what he could get away with. Then his eyes tracked to the empty plate still in front of her. Without another word, he grabbed it and began to fill it for her as she spoke. He might have been arrogant, but she was grateful for the assistance nonetheless.

“Only some fire–and it’s incredibly untrained. Magic is tamped down past the wall, and I didn't really have time to practice once I crossed. My mother worried it was too unsafe to use in the Human Lands past lighting candles and fires anyway.”

“Perhaps Lucien can help,” Tamlin interjected, Lucien shooting him another look.

“Oh, can I?” Lucien huffed out.

“Lucien, enough.” The words were tight as Tamlin spoke them, and Feyre could see Lucien pull back as though he were physically reigning in his need to sass her.

“I’d hate to intrude…” Feyre offered, hoping that she wasn’t already making an enemy on her first day. But surprisingly, Lucien’s face softened into a small smile.

“It’s actually been awhile since I’ve been around anyone from Autumn. Might be nice to sharpen my skills.” The relief coursed through her as he handed her the now-filled plate.

“Thank you. And thank you both for giving me food and being so kind. I fled without time to prepare much of anything.” Tamlin and Lucien exchanged a quick glance that seemed to convey whatever they were both thinking. She could see the glance for what it was, as plainly as if they’d been speaking to her.

There was definitely something in it for them.

“You can stay here as long as you need, Feyre. We have plenty of room.” Relief rushed through her again. This was going better than she’d dared to hope, despite her lack of preparation. Feyre was going to drive her point home.

“I was so terrified in those woods, and I had no idea if I would even make it here. You can’t possibly know how much it means to me to have found somewhere I know I’m safe.”

The smug looks on both their faces let her know she’d hit the mark.

Men and their flattery.

She took a bite of her food. “Oh my, this is incredible.”

Lucien laughed. “First time trying food above the wall tends to surprise people. You should try the duck with the orange and cranberry there.” He pointed delicately with his fork, and she listened immediately. She was bound and determined now to try everything on this table before she departed it.

Once she was well and fully sated, it occurred to her that she still looked like a disaster. She cleared her throat, her cheeks burning thinking of what she must look like to them. “I, uh, I only ran with the clothes on my back and what I could throw in this satchel.” She looked pointedly down at the dirty, tattered clothing.

“Not a problem. We have some ladies’ clothing here, and we can bring you into town to get you more as you see fit.”

“Is there perhaps some work I could do here? A way to earn my keep?” There was a beat of silence then both males began to laugh uproariously. Feyre scowled at them. She may have grown up rich, but she didn’t appreciate the idea of handouts. She knew from her time spent reading in her father’s office while he worked that nothing was truly free, and she intended to earn the help they offered. Her face seemed to halt them in their tracks.

Tamlin cleared his throat. “You don’t have to work, Feyre. It isn’t necessary.”

“I’d like to, though. I am disturbing your routine and peace, and it would make me feel better if I could help, even in some small way.” Tamlin gave Lucien another look, then appeared to think about it.

“The library needs some work, perhaps some organization, if you’d like.” Feyre brightened at the thought.

“I love books! I would be honored to organize the library.” The amusement was back in the two males’ eyes. “Thank you, again.”

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre. If you’ll join me, I can show you to your room.”

Feyre’s room was unlike anything she’d ever beheld in her life. Like the rest of the manor, it was draped in opulence the likes of which she’d never seen. The room that they led her to was nearly three times the size of her own. More massive windows lined the walls, the gossamer curtains fluttering in the wind and the soft light of the afternoon illuminating everything so it sparkled and shone.

“We’ll leave you to get settled. I’ll be out during dinner tonight, so there won’t be anything formal, but I will have something sent up for you. Don’t hesitate to ring the bell and ask for assistance.” Tamlin nodded a final time and stepped back out into the hall, letting the door click shut behind him. Lucien had already snuck away at some point, but she found herself thinking she could grow to enjoy their company. This was already going much more smoothly than she’d anticipated, and she wondered if that didn’t bode well for finding Rhys, too.

The bed in her room looked like a massive, pastel cloud, and Feyre immediately longed to launch herself onto it. There were clothes laid out for her already, as well as some sleeping clothes for later. And while they were all a bit fancier than she regularly preferred, she was simply excited to be back in something clean. She hoped they didn’t already think her half-feral, but perhaps that might serve to work in her favor as it always had. She wandered into the bathroom, nearly as spacious as the room itself, to find the bath already full and steaming.

She took her time, trying all the fancy oils, and when she was clean, she put on a simple, periwinkle dress, the sleeves light and flowing. The dress was plain, but softer than anything she’d ever worn, the fabric sliding like a caress across her skin. Was everything better here? She hoped she might be able to find some tunics and trousers in the town Tamlin had mentioned, wondering if it would be incredibly taboo for her to wear clothes like that here as a woman.

A woman? A female? What would it be here under the guise of half?

Finally, she allowed herself to pounce onto the puffy bed of linens, the fabric absorbing her into it as though it were welcoming her. After a few deep, settling breaths, she rolled to look at the books on the nightstand. History of Prythian VII, Plants of the Spring Valleys, Conquests and Their Conquerors. She twisted her nose at the boring tomes.

What boring books for a guest room, she snorted. So typical. She’d need to find the library soon and grab a few for her room, as well.

She leaned back into the bed and sighed, floating between waking and sleep for a while as the sun moved across the sky, thinking about everything and trying to organize her thoughts. These were the fae that she’d thought of as legends only a few months ago. And here they were, real and talking to her over lunch and sending bad books to her nightstand. Was this how Rhys was when he was home and free? Could he be this informal? What was his High Lord like? She couldn’t help but laugh a little. She doubted that someone with such terrifying powers would be as lax with his court as Tamlin seemed to be.

Feyre wished she could simply tell them why she was there, who she was there for. Would she be able to talk about the curse at all now that she was in Prythian? She’d have to at least try.

A servant brought a light dinner to her room around dusk, another delicious plate filled with steaming food that tasted better than anything she'd ever eaten. The girl was quiet, saying only that Alis would be her lady’s maid tomorrow when she returned, but if she had any needs overnight to simply ring the bell.

As twilight took over through the windows, stars twinkled to life in the sky. She sat on the settee near the massive panes of glass, looking up into the changing sky, and wondered what Rhys was doing. The stars glittered like the ones in his eyes, and she tried to imagine she could smell that lovely scent of spice and sea.

Soon. Soon we’ll be together again.

The new magic in her chest pulsed as if in response, and Feyre sighed. She was restless, and she hadn’t been explicitly told to remain in her room, so she decided to take a look around. She tiptoed out into the great hall, shutting the door quietly behind her and walking back the way she’d remembered coming from. The manor was well lit with sconces and lanterns now that the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the pretty golden glow brought a whole new level of beauty to the already gorgeous home.

She backtracked through the areas she was already familiar with, then moved towards what she hoped was the back of the house. She could see a massive garden from her window that faced the back of the manor.

She found the back doors fairly easily, only to notice one had already been left slightly ajar. As she passed through it, she could see the wide expanse of gardens ahead, noting the path for another day, but what truly caught her eye was the massive stone sitting area she now found herself on. It spanned a large part of the back of the manor, pressed shells and bricks and marble melting together to make up a great set up steps and a huge area for seating. There were built-in pits for fires, chairs and benches all around them, some even carved into the marble itself.

The setting was magical as she took it all in–the light scent of honeysuckle and cut grass filled the air, while fireflies bobbed and dipped around lazily. The stars seemed brighter here somehow, even more welcoming towards her than they had been at home, and she suddenly had the thought that she might find it very easy to stay the rest of her days in Prythian.

A sudden clearing of a throat to her left broke the magic as she jumped, her hand clawing at her chest.

“Didn’t mean to frighten you, my lady.” A wide smile cracked across Lucien’s face, amused in the near-dark.

Ass.

She exhaled sharply. “What are you doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same, Feyre.” He lifted a bottle of what she guessed to be alcohol to his lips. “I’m simply enjoying this lovely Spring night. Would you like to sit?” He gestured to an adjoining seat near the unlit fire pit next to him.

As she passed him, she smelled a lingering scent of apples and thought again of Elain.

“Have you ever been to the Human Lands, Lucien?” He gave her an odd look.

“I don’t make a habit of it,” he laughed as she easied down into the surprisingly comfortable seat, taking in a deep breath of warm air.

“Is it always so idyllic in Spring?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed. “Though I can’t say I mind the evenings out here.”

Before she could respond in kind, a boisterous laugh sounded from the woods, two figures emerging from the shadowed treeline. Even in the near-darkness, she could tell the one on the left was Tamlin. The one on the right was broad, too, but a bit shorter. She could see from the silhouette of him that his hair was cropped more tightly to his head, and as they came closer to the light of the manor, she could see he was more of an auburn than a blonde. They bounded up the steps, the one that wasn’t Tamlin giving Lucien a great slap on the shoulder and nearly causing him to spit out his drink.

“Drinking on the job, Lu?”

“No, Andras. I’m off tonight.” He snarled back, but Feyre could see the humor in his eyes. The golden eyes of the male, Andras, turned to her as he extended a hand.

“Hello, Feyre. I heard about you from Tamlin on our patrol. Nice to meet you.” He had a warm, bubbly air about him that Feyre felt the other two sorely lacked, and she felt immediately at ease.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Perhaps we’ll join you both?” He was positively jovial, and Feyre decided she liked him.

Lucien toed at a bucket she hadn’t seen before near the firepit. “Help yourselves.”

The two did, then both sat in the chairs nearby with heaving sighs. “So, Feyre. How are you finding Spring so far?”

“It’s beautiful here.” She turned to Tamlin again. “I know I keep saying it, but thank you for letting me stay.” She figured she may as well give it a shot. “Even if it’s only so you have a fighting chance when you bring home a hu–” Feyre felt a violent lurch in her stomach, then a feeling like a rigid hand gripping her windpipe. Her eyes widened as she tried to open her mouth, finding absolutely no sound coming out no matter how she tried. Her hand flew to her throat, and her eyes shot up to meet the three males astonished glances.

Lucien spoke first, his voice almost a whisper in the night. “You know?”

She nodded, but still couldn’t find words to speak.

“How could someone from the Human Lands know about the….that?” Andras grit out.

She wanted to be truthful with them after they’d given her such a kind welcome, but Vilja’s words of warning rang out in her mind.

Play your role.

Perhaps a half-truth would be better than none at all.

“There's someone I'm trying to find, maybe save.” Feyre tried to find a way to dance around the language, too. “They’re…underneath, I think.” She watched the understanding dawn in all their eyes.

“Your father?” The sympathy in Tamlin’s tone shook her out of her thoughts.

Shit. She’d forgotten the lie so easily already.

“Yes.” She tried not to stammer as she thought on her feet. “After he stopped coming back for my mother, she wondered more than once if he had died, or if something had perhaps…kept him from us. He’d told her of the situation happening back home. She never believed he’d abandoned her willingly. That was always her guess–that he’d been caught up in it all somehow.”

It remained quiet momentarily, everyone taking in the knowledge that she shared the big secret of the land with them. Perhaps it was a burden off of them to not feel they had to hide it from her, but she swore she could feel the spirit of camaraderie growing in the air around the group.They looked at her in sympathy, understanding, and she felt all the worse for lying to them.

Then, without further ado, Tamlin handed her a bottle of her own.

“Well, Feyre, welcome to Spring.”

Let me know if you'd like on or off the taglist! Taglist: @cauldronblssd @buttercupcookies-blog @witch-and-her-witcher

#feyre archeron #rhysand #feysand #acotar #acotar fics #feyre and rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met #acotar au #fated mates

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booktomoviebrawl · 1 year

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We are not judging how bad the movie is, we are judging which adapted the book the worst. There are good movies that are bad adaptions.

Propaganda below the cut (spoilers may apply)

The Witcher:

Henry Cavill, mostly. Also awful hair and makeup dept.

What they did to Geralt is straight up character assassination and they destroyed his friendship with Dandelion. I will never stop being bitter

completely disregards the themes the books represent and Anglicizing the eastern european literary traditions present. they cast actors who were a poor fit for the roles and the writers expressing open disdain for the books. there is no point to putting work and effort into adapting a media you hate.

Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children:

While Miss Peregrine was one of my favorite books as a kid and incredibly unique in the way the story is written (The author basically took a box of weird antique photographs and created an underlying story behind a handful of them) the movie is incredibly boring. Like seriously I can't remember a single goddamn thing about the movie besides my extreme disappointment with it after leaving the theatres. It's probably because the original is a trilogy but they didn't want to make it a trilogy for the movie so they just scrapped the ending of the first book and rewrote a shitty climax where they threw snowballs at the nightmare child eating creatures or something. I remember THAT scene perfectly because it was so, so dumb. It was so stupid oh my God- ALSO, thank God I have a copy of the book from before the film came out because new copies don't have one of the photographs that the actual book uses as a base anymore and instead have the shitty movie poster! We truly do live in a society.

Changed way too much so it doesn't feel like the same thing. The main characters are these kids with different abilities (called peculiarities) and the movie switches around their powers and changes almost everyone's age. Emma and Olive switch powers so that Emma now floats (they also added that she can kind of control air to some extent) when she's supposed to have fire powers to match her fiery personality. Olive can make fire now and she's also aged up from an eight year old to a teenager and put her in this weird romance with Enoch. Enoch is also aged up from a grumpy thirteen year old to around the same age as Olive. Bronwyn, one of the older kids in the book and sort of a motherly figure to the younger kids, is now one of the youngest kids. Hugh and Fiona are aged down and basically have no interaction at all in the movie, even when their book counterparts had such a good relationship. The only one they didn't really change was Horace and Jacob. They also added these gorgon twins that do like two things. The antagonist in the movie is Mr. Barron who honestly isn't super memorable and isn't in the books whatsoever. The ending of the movie is weird too because they manage to turn back time somehow so Jacob's grandfather isn't dead and then he hops through loops so he can be with Emma and the other peculiars. I guess the problem of wights and hollowgasts is magically eliminated and we do not have to deal with the consequences. It took six books to fix everything. I appreciate that the movie engaged me enough to read the series but once I did, I could not believe they did my kids that dirty.

Yikes where to start. The 3 girl characters are all mixed up. There are 2 teens, one who's super strong and has a brother (I'll get back to him) and one who controls fire and is the love interest named Emma. The third girl is a child called Olive who floats. She's lighter than air.

In the movie, strong girl is the child, olive is now the fire girl and is for some reason super introverted, and Emma the love interest floats and gets given a super breath??? Power?? Like she rises a sunken ship by blowing in and keeps a man blown against a wall by blowing air at him. He makes a remark that she'll run out of breath eventually, which happens here because plot convenience, but not when she's blowing in the sunken ship.

The enemies in the book are terrifying Hollows. Creatures who have lost themselves and devour souls of those with powers... The movie decides they eat eyes now. And turn human again. And get busted up in a fair for the final act of the movie. Ugh.

The movie also decides randomly that time travelling through the loops is a thing; a loop being a pocket of time that replays the same day over and over. But apparently this means Main Character can travel back in time and stop his grandfather dying??? What?? His grandfathers death is the whole start of the movie and motivation for the character.

The movie undermines many of things that made the book amazing and even decides it's not a trilogy anymore!! Fuck the other 2 books, right?!

Tldr; it is terribly hollywood-ised and t tim Burton ruined a franchise by trying too hard to make it quirky and fun when the books already had a brilliant sombre and interesting tone to them.

#tournament poll #the witcher #miss peregrines home for peculiar children

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redskull199987 · 1 year

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

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

A Bond

Cahir x female!witcher!reader Request

Word count:0.9k

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

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

Masterlist

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

The rest was history.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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icarustica · 2 years

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⁠♡ wip wednesday

summary: angsty, whumpy, no real resolution, 700ish words

♡♡♡

“You will do what you are told!” shouted Geralt.

“There it is,” Jaskier said quietly, stepping back, leaves crunching under his foot. The forest was quiet as he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. The silence was suddenly deafening, the peace in the dappled light of the forest like an unwelcome, scratchy blanket.

Geralt’s breath came short and fast in his chest, a rabbit’s pace that matched the speed of his heart. “What?”

“I will do what I’m told,” chuckled Jaskier. He flickered between Geralt’s eyes like he was searching for something. “I really am your whore, huh? For everything except… well, except whoring.”

Geralt blinked, anger rising up in him again. “I don’t–”

“If not, then one step above,” Jaskier snapped suddenly, fire flaring back up in his eyes. “You know nothing of friendship. Friendship is not this, this…” he spluttered for a moment. “Weighted give and take. I give you everything, Geralt, my care, my coin, my humiliation, all for what? A couple of songs? I could write a dozen ditties about the Countess and be brimming with riches within the week.”

Geralt’s face heated. He’d pondered that before, how attractive the thought of running off to some noble must seem to Jaskier, being surrounded by lovely adorers every minute, draped in fancy clothes and fed with all the fruit and meat he desired. How dismal travelling with Geralt must seem compared to that reachable paradise.

“You think saving me from your monsters is payment,” Jaskier spat. “And perhaps it is. For playing at bars where every drunk blacksmith paws at me like a whore just to pay for our meals.”

Geralt flinched.

“And maybe your protection covers the work I’ve done to fix your reputation,” he continued, eyes blazing. “And if we’re being generous, it probably also covers the beatings I’ve taken for what I couldn’t fix.”

Beatings. Geralt had never thought… sometimes Jaskier would come back from a night somewhere away from their shared room covered with bruises and stumbling like a drunk. Oh, I just found a convenient ditch to rest my head in for the night, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Lying. He’d been lying.

“But what your protection does not cover, Geralt,” Jaskier snapped, “is the things I have paid to earn your friendship instead. Cleaning your armour. Stitching your wounds. Buying you things at the market just to cheer you up.”

Geralt swallowed. He opened his mouth.

Jaskier’s eyebrow quirked up, a challenge.

He shut it again. It was unfair, asking him to battle words with Jaskier, a man who played with them for a living. Especially when he couldn’t figure out the feelings to inspire the words in the first place.

“The witcher’s whore,” Jaskier repeated quietly, like he was testing the words in his mouth or telling a story. “Does what he’s told.”

Geralt stepped closer, growling under his breath. "Stop."

Jaskier would have normally backed down. De-escalated things with a joke, but today his chin jutted upward. Today fire brimmed in those blue eyes. "Yes sir," he bit out.

“Jaskier," he warned.

"General Geralt, sir," he continued. "My most excellent warlord!"

"Stop."

"Oh great Butcher-"

Something snapped, the words torn out of him: "Fucking stop!"

“Oh, yes, master,” mocked Jaskier, equally as loud, hand flourishing like he was about to bow.

Geralt’s face heated even more, helpless anger clawing at him. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong - the skin on his body, the woods crashing with wind around them. “Jaskier, I am not your master, you are not my whore, I–”

“You like it,” he snarled, bitter like gin. “You like being the man in charge, the martyr at the head of the battle. So much responsibility, and oh, only you can bear it.”

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier snapped down into a full bow, hand across his pleated red chest. “Yes, sir! Am I dismissed, sir?”

“Stop it.”

“Yes sir, of course sir,” he mocked, looking to the ground as if chastised.

Geralt let out a frustrated growl, somewhere between a cry of anguish and a sob.

“Shall I clean your boots, sir?” Jaskier snapped, eyes glinting through his hair as he looked up, still half-bent into a bow. “Your armour? Shall I find you another whore to spend the night with?”

Geralt marched forward, vibrating with anger. “Fucking stop,” he growled, close to shouting. “Just– just stop–”

“Apologies, sir, I’ll do better, shall I take your belt for lashings?”

“Fucking hell, Jaskier!” Geralt grabbed his shoulders, determined to shake out whatever the fuck was making him talk that way.

Jaskier pulled his collar into his hands and kissed him.

Geralt had good reflexes and bad instincts. He pressed into it without a moment’s hesitation, drowning in Jaskier’s scent, the feeling of his soft lips opening to him, the warmth of his body pressed against his own.

Jaskier broke it, leaning back only an inch. “There,” he whispered. “Now you can take that from me too.”

♡♡♡

I'll probably never finish this, but i like where it was going!

⁠♡icarus

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #jaskier the bard #jaskier witcher #witcher #the witcher (tv)#the witcher #geralt of rivia #angst #whump #angsty #jaskier whump #geralt whump #unfinished #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic author #ao3 author

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thetardigrape · 2 months

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Tagged by @ghostalservice to share my favorite fics I've written. A truly lovely tag game!

I've written a lot, most of it OFMD, so I'll try to keep it brief while also covering a few fandoms. I love almost everything I've written so this will be a challenge!

OFMD

Made of Gold (Modern AU Lupete, 16.6k, E) Listing this first because I truly think it's my fave fic I've written ever. Pete is a tow truck driver and Lucius's car breaks down in his tiny New Mexico town. It's very cozy and sweet despite having a major theme of poverty. I meant to write a sequel but didn't quite manage it. 😅

What Kind of Pirate Has a Friend? (canonverse Jack/Ed, 30.8k, E) The first chapter fic I actually set out to write as a chapter fic. It explores Jack and Ed as teenagers and the friendship that developed between them.

Beasts (canonverse Sprizzy, 6.8k, E) I wanted to try a specific narrative voice, and I feel like I achieved it. Extremely kinky, first in a series.

Ace of Hearts (canonverse Gentlebeard, 27.7k total, E) My ace Stede series. Comments on this series still break my heart. I never expected to have such an effect on people.

Pirate Ships (SMAU Sprizzy, 2.4k, M) Written entirely in skins of Tumblr and Discord. I learned CSS for this. It's so silly.

In Service to the Crown (canonverse Hornberry/Shaw, 25.2k, E) Started as crackfic, took on a life of its own. I'm still the only author in this tag. These are basically OCs at this point.

Good Omens

Your Smile in Mine (modern human AU ineffable husbands, 64.4k, E) The longest thing I've ever written. It's given me the confidence to write an original novel. Crowley and Az are teachers at a boarding school.

Physiology Lessons (canonverse ineffable husbands, 12.2k, E) A fun series that explores the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale have never had sex but they have experimented with mutual masturbation.

The Witcher

It Will Not Be Because of Me (canonverse Geraskier, 9.1k, E) I don't really know what it is about this fic, but I come back to it over and over. Angsty ending that I took some steps to fix in a sequel.

When That Time Comes (canonverse Geraskier, 4.1k, E) Made myself cry writing this fic about Geralt trading in Roach for a new horse when she gets old. Would probably still cry if I reread it.

Staged

Yes, And (rpf David/Michael, 18.2k, E) Cannot believe I'm putting rpf on this list. But truly, I had a lot of fun with this one. I meant to end it on the angsty first chapter but luckily for my readers a second chapter fell into my head, so it has a happy ending.

And that's the list! It's long, but I've written 87 fics and over 850k words, so it's a bit hard to narrow it down!

Tagging @chocolatepot, @veeagainsttheday, @mirilyawrites, @mia-ugly, and anyone else who wants to play!

#ofmd #good omens #the witcher #staged

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crowsoundsonly · 10 months

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rachel's "i'm on winter break and have time to write" sleepover !!

hi everyone !! i am so excited to actually have time to sit down and write without university looming over me like storm clouds. there won't be a lot of rules, just a lot of fics and fun.

a few things to know:

send requests !!

no limit on asks or prompts requested !! i'm taking requests through jan 31, 2024.

if you have an original idea, send it my way !! it doesn't have to be from the prompt list.

if you want to join, please do !! write something !! tag me !!

i don't write super explicit smut. but i will def write some light smut and kissing and whatnot if requested.

no dub/con, no incest, no ultra-kinky stuff. sorry guys.

people i write for...

bucky barnes

ben barnes characters (the darkling, billy russo, caspian)

loki

will graham (hannibal)

cillian murphy characters (thomas shelby, jonathan crane, robert fischer)

tangerine (bullet train)

bruce wayne

geralt of rivia (the witcher)

prompts:

plot:

1. touch starved 2. hurt/comfort 3. holding onto the other’s shoulders for support 4. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up 5. showing up at each other’s house late at night 6. washing the other’s body 7. kissing their bruises and scars 8. sitting close and knees touching 9. meeting the family 10. teaching the other to… 11. watching the other when they are in their element 12. comfort kisses, goodbye kisses, first kisses, etc. 13. oral fixation 14. hand fetish

quotes:

1. "You know you’re pretty much the worst. In the best way possible." 2. "You smell good." 3. "You said I love you too fast." 4. "You were not supposed to find out about it." 5. "How long has it been since someone touched you like this?" 6. "Even if you don’t feel the same… I just wanted to tell you." 7. "Can you stay with me?"/"Don't go. Please." 8. "I say I’m over it but I still imagine it’s his hands in my hair when I’m alone.” 9. "I'm anything you want me to be." 10. "How can you be so smart, yet so stupid?" 11. "You’re dead to me." 12. "I thought it was just a silly crush, but it turned into more. I’m sorry, I know you don’t feel the same about me." 13. "Why are you staring at me?" 14. "I never thought this would happen." 15. "I am a god." 16. "Where did you go?" 17. "You were in my dream last night." 18. "Please don’t look (at me)…" 19. "I know I should be happy with friendship. So is it wrong of me to not be satisfied?" 20. "Stop worrying." 21. "So you've fantasized about me?" 22. "Why are you unbuttoning your pants?" 23. "You're shivering."

au’s:

1. babysitter 2. soulmates 3. flower/coffee/book shop 4. time travel 5. neighbors 6. coworkers 7. teachers 8. royalty 9. historical 10. fairytale 11. wedding 12. fake dating

happy asking and happy holidays ! - rachel

my masterlist :)

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greenapplespider · 4 months

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Had a migraine for a couple days, but I’ve been able to do a rough sketch of another couple pages of my Lambert x Aiden comic, so thought I’d give a little update and info on the project. I know there are a couple excited people :p

So far, this is planned out to be a full length, fully illustrated black and white, comic- it’ll probably be about 25 or so pages when complete. If you don’t know me and my tastes, just fyi, it will be angsty, offensive, and dark but with a tentative happy ending. It will be posted in full on my tumblr in hopefully a month or two (as long as the muses keep it flowing and the migraines abate :p)

“After several years of traveling together on the path Lambert and Aidens friendship had morphed into something more physical- something any outside observer would describe as “lovers.” But Lambert can’t commit, no matter how much Aiden tries to wear him down. Lambert hates that he holds himself at a distance because if his fellow wolves ever learned of his predilections- learned of the relationship he had with a Cat Witcher his brothers would be apt to do more then just reject him.

Lambert hates being a Witcher, hates Kaer Morhen, hates Vesemir, but he can’t bear the thought of truly loosing the only place he has left to call home. To be rejected by the family he outwardly pretends not to have may just be the end of him. No matter how much he loves Aiden.

When some regrettable rumors start to make their way through Witcher circles. Lambert finds himself about to loose both the things he never truly let himself have. "

#the witcher #witcher 3 #the witcher 3 #the witcher fanart #witcher fanart #aiden x lambert #witcher lambert #lambert witcher #fan comic #lambert x aiden #witcher aiden #the witcher fandom #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction

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mysteriouslybluepirate · 1 year

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Why Characters Matter- Witcher S3 (Vol. 1)

Full spoilers for our four lead character arcs in S3 of The Witcher are below. I am going fully off of memory. I swear, I only have good things to say. (Especially my favorite idiot, he made me cry)

To me, character drives the heart of shows and I finally feel like Witcher has gained some of its heart back.

My biggest problem with Witcher Seasons 1-2 is that I felt like we had no reason to believe our core 4. They had almost no reason to hang out.

Why should I care about Geralt and Jaskier's friendship? Geralt fucking hates him! Jaskier has spent most of his life hated, disliked, or ignored. Hell, in season 2 Jaskier had better chemistry with Yen than Geralt did.

Why should I care about Yennifer/Geralt? I know it's going to happen, and honestly, they spend all of their on-screen time fucking! They never hang out as friends, or people trying to get to get to know each other?

This show took my every criticism and said 'Okay, bet'. It made me fall in love with these characters again. This is a really solid season of television with heart, better cinematography and writing.

NOW: For background. I've seen all of the show and played a bit of the game. I also went through a 'lore of Witcher' phase on YouTube analyzing the books. Add onto all that a full 2 years of my life reading fanfic (Geralt/Jaskier, Jaskier/Yen, Geralt/Yen, or all of them in a poly relationship). I am no expert in the series, but where the show failed me, I went to other forms of the story.

So when I say I care about these characters, I am not talking out of my ass. I am going to go character by character and explain why this season helped me care again.

Ciri: Season 2 she was just kind of there? Yeah, she was learning, but she was a plot device. Yen wanted her, the Witchers wanted her, etc. In Season 3 I finally see a girl desperate for connection and safety. She asks all three adults what she should be in life for advice because shes scared. ('I see a powerful ruler regardless of what you do', 'in the future, if you are queen you're life will be shit'. and 'I like who you are now, focus on that and what makes you happy')

She is also SO SMART. I love she tries to impress Geralt with her monster knowledge. That she is really giving it her all with Yen and magic. But she knows that she just can't fit in with the Sorceress, and feels that she's wasting her gifts with Geralt. I know how her story ends and it hurts me to know that her optimism might just get crushed. SHE'S A CHILD!!!!

Yennifer: I AM SO SORRY I DOUBTED YOU! She is the boss ass bitch, I love her, and I fully forgive her for her self-sabotaging in Season 2. She genuinely wants to try to repair shit with Geralt. GENUINELY APOLOGIZING. Starting slow, showing Geralt that she's not just trying to be friendly for a cheap fuck. They spend time together. She is at war trying to balance her circles of influence AND take care of a kid. When she talks to her old friends, I SEE that being vague and secretive is hurting her. BUT SHE HAS TO for her family.

This is the first time I looked at Yen and thought 'She loves him'. All the 'magic kiss slowmo' bullshit didn't work for me. But when she wrote out 'your friend Yennifer' I BELIEVED HER. She's also so funny? Her struggle wearing masks is so relatable, and her teaching Ciri is heartbreaking.

GERALT: I LOVE THIS FUCKING HIMBO. He's trying to balance opening up, running away from authorities, and being a decent role model for his kid.

HE APOLOGIZED! MULTIPLE TIMES! For all his shitty actions! He does it so casually and earnestly! To Jaskier, Yen and Ciri. I don't know where this development happened, but GOD, I love it. He opens up!!!! He smiles, he get's soft, and he gets scary when he needs to!

He went from 'uncaring baddass' to 'oh god, he's a socially awkward nerd'. I finally see a Geralt I recognize. He's smart, and skilled but still struggles with socializing and doing what is right.

EPISODE 5 OH MY GOD. I am so happy they split this series up so we can stew in the cliffhanger!!!

I was on the edge of my seat. Geralt and Yen trust each other so implicitly they're able to make plans on the fly!

Jaskier: He's my favorite. Always has been. (I can write a paper on him this season I swear)

I went into this season expecting him to be in maybe a few scenes, but NO. My man was relevant to the plot.

1.) PLEASE GO TO THE OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK AND LISTEN TO THE JASKIER ORCHESTRAL STUFF. It's so fucking fun! All plucky, and it sounds like you're going on an adventure and falling in love. 'Lessons in Smiling', 'He's a Spoon'.

2.) I FUCKING LOVED WHAT THEY DID WITH VALDO MARX. I was in no way spoiled, I didn't even know he'd show up. So I literally had to pause I squealed so loud. I wanted Jaskier to be treated well, and I wanted CANON Valdo Marx! I GOT BOTH! Also, All is Not As It Seems is a banger, but maybe overplayed. As Valdo deserves! You get the sense that Valdo is chasing trends and Jaskier fucking despises this man.

3.) THE ROMANTIC ARC. Now. I was spoiled that he'd get a love interest that was 'evil'. I fully expected a 'Douchebag convinces innocent protag they love them, only to double cross them'. This is how it starts. Jaskier catches on really quickly that he's probably going to get double-crossed.

Jaskier knows this is going to be a whole ordeal, so he tries to be as careful as possible. Seeming interested while keeping a distance. We can see Jaskier holding himself behind a mask, keeping the fun energy but watching Radovid in most scenes.

BUT. Jaskier is a romantic.

He knows this prince is bad news, he knows that. But something is keeping him stuck there. He sees his prince as someone to be suspicious of. A man who is willing to fake being drunk to hit on him. A prince who tries to be coy, and get Jaskier alone to talk. Who is usually there when Jaskier talks to his spy contacts. But...Well, we the audience has never seen how Jaskier acts around someone who genuinely likes him and who isn't afraid to show it.

Jaskier will follow a man who hates him for a good chunk of his life, writing songs about nature, love and heartbreak.

But in all this time he NEVER had someone to seriously listen to him. To see through his music, and lyrics, and look at the person he was.

So when this blonde prince sneaks away from an important party and admits that he's scared. And sings Jaskier one of his songs? Not a story written about adventure, or inuendo, or Geralt. No!

A song about how soft and kind love was because it let you be yourself with someone. How a person craves intimacy, even how music is written with untold words of love and kindness. How Jaskier finally feels complete in life! How Jaskier craves to be with someone, to be seen, even if it ends in heartbreak.

This prince finally SEES him...so.

Jaskier falls in love with Radovid of Redania.

Even if it's just for a night, even if it's just a crush. Jaskier can't help himself. He's the one to close the gap. To initiate the kiss. It's so GOOD.

Now. This is a man with bad intentions who is going to hurt Jaskier. I suspect that Jaskier fucking Radovid gave the 'enemy' enough time to kidnap Ciri. So.

Jaskier has always craved being seen by anyone who would listen. To be liked. To be loved. Here, on this one night, that craving was fully taken advantage of, (maybe)with a goal to hurt a person Jaskier cares about(Ciri, by leaving her alone). Even if it turns out that Radovid isn't involved, that he didn't mean for this, it would break Jaskier. Jaskier would close himself up, much like S1 Geralt, his heart wouldn't be safe with anyone. He will smile again. Dance and sing for adoring fans. But he'll never let someone dangerous in again.

I have always shipped Geralt/Jaskier, I really love reading it. I love angst/unrequited love. Hell, give it a week, and I'll read S3 fic. But this season I saw a Jaskier that didn't need Geralt anymore. Who had moved onto someone who at least seemed interested. Jaskier was simply a happy man doing what he loved. He was a weird Uncle teaching Ciri how to be human. I ADORE the scene where Geralt and Yen are talking and Ciri and Jaskier are secretly watching them. I finally feel like Jaskier is an accepted member of this family.

4.) Just seeing someone finally be comfortable in their own skin was so nice in this show. He's a funny, awkward, and sometimes charming guy. He's anxious ass all he'll, and scared and trying to rationalize the shit that's happened to him. He runs around doing stupid shit because he cares about his friends. He's not attached to Geralt's hip, and the audience gets a sense Jaskier has a life! I fucking love this man, and how he tries to seem brave around literal superhumans.

This season treated Jaskier, like how fandom on AO3 treated Jaskier, with respect, joy, and a plan to break his heart!

#the witcher netflix #the witcher season 3 #the witcher spoilers #cirilla of cintra #ciri #witcher cirilla #yennefer #geralt of rivia #witcher #jaskier #jaskier the bard #witcher season 3 #character analysis #the witcher s3

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