#witcher tribute

[hanzajesthanza]

i made my first witcher video!

hi everybody! if you've been following me for a while, you may know that i've been working on creating a witcher analysis youtube channel for a couple of years now (the kind that does video essays and deep dives).

though my first video is not an analysis, it is equally important—a biography and bibliography of author andrzej sapkowski's life and works! if you ever wondered how the witcher was created, this video is for you!

also... it's over an hour long! so i'd recommend that you watch it when you can get some time on your hands :)

[bitchlingwitchling]

Sonnet de Vries

Thy tender features speak to me,

Like flowers do to soft spring rain,

Thy gentleness could make me sing,

So that my love I can explain.

Thy magic flows into my veins,

And runs along this heart of mine,

A captive am I to thy spell,

And still no doubt is in the line,

"I love you" my heart sings to thee,

And will so for eternity.

[castillon02]

Not me thinking about how tiny Geralt might have learned songs and rhymes from his sorceress mom and might have been the kind of obsessive kid who could happily sing the same song for hours on end.

And probably he taught some songs to other little Witcherlings who bunked with him until they were hummed maddeningly in the halls of Kaer Morhen but never in plain enough view (or voice) to catch the culprits.

And probably memorizing things to a tune helped so long as a trainer didn’t catch them ‘relying on nonsense.’

“baby drowner, drowner, drowner,

three feet long, long, long,

still has enough teeth, teeth, teeth,

to bite off your do--

--doppler, doppler, doppler,

changes shape, shape, shape,

touch it with silver, silver, silver

so it can’t esca---

--Scaly wyvern, wyvern, wyvern”

There was much arguing about the best lyrics, of course, and triumph at finding a good rhyme. and then after Geralt went through the Trials his voice was too hoarse to sing for a long while, and besides, there was hardly anyone left to sing or argue with.

After surviving the second Grasses, he finds he doesn’t have much to say. A noncommittal “Hmm,” like the sound they had made when he’d asked what his chances of living were. 

It’s particularly annoying when a bard latches on to him after Geralt had made an effort to forget about music. Apparently music won’t stand to be left behind for long, and neither will Jaskier.

Now Geralt hears singing wherever he goes, like when he was a child. He won’t join in---why would he sing about himself?---but maybe. Maybe Ciri will need to memorize her monsters. Maybe Jaskier could make a song about that, a better one than the stupid rhymes they made up as a kid. Maybe---

Maybe he returns to Kaer Morhen one winter and finds Ciri and Lambert already singing, because of course Lambert made a point of memorizing irritating songs even when he was young.

“Scaly wyvern, wyvern, wyvern

Swoops and bites, bites, bites

Forget its tail, tail, tail,

You’ll rue the nigh---”

“Nightwraith, nightwraith, nightwraith,” Geralt joins in, sneaking up on Ciri if not Lambert. He clasps her hands in his and whirls her around in mad nightwraith circles, as is traditional, until he and she and Lambert all finish singing the nightwraith verse.

When he lets her go, Ciri launches herself at him, laughing.

She comes up with her own verses that winter, and there are new ones that Lambert has already added. And if it keeps her safe, makes her smile---no reason for Geralt not to join in. They chant the silly rhymes openly in the halls and the kitchen and the training yards, each voice easily traced back to its owner.

“It’s an old Witcher tradition,” Geralt tells her. Aside from Vesemir, he’s outlived everyone who might try to say it’s not. And if Ciri has children or students of her own, maybe she’ll pass it on with her other Witcher skills: woodcraft, swords, Signs, and silly monster songs.

[tomorobo-illust]

Hey uh I’m super like, Astonished and very happy rn. I just discovered your Witcher/Tenacious D post and I’ve been saying this same thing for a while now and I actually put a lot of those songs on my Jaskier playlist. You have no idea how happy you have made me. Thank you

For the curious, we're talking about this post I made way back.

That is so flattering!! Always happy to hear when my work has made someone's day <3 It's so funny how Tenacious D just has that Jaskier energy XD

On a side note: @freckledsaint and I watched The Hexer (Polish Witcher movie) and we LOVED how they portrayed Dandelion and Geralt as besties and now wished we could've had that in the Netflix series (unless they are planning that to happen in later season??).

Anyway, enjoy a quick sketch of Geralt and Jaskier! I now live in The Hexer Universe where they are besties being silly and doing crimes and not abandoning each other.

[decendingfromgrace]

I know- I JUST KNOW that Geralt of Rivia would have the most top tier dirty talk. I just know that he would say the most knee rubbing, thigh clenching, face flushing, pussy throbbing words to you. Either in the softest whisper against your ear while in public or accompanied with an almost feral growl while in the bedroom.

[thatsjustdamncrazy]

Disclaimer: We make no claim of ownership to the audio track. We make no claim of ownership to the apps used in the creation of the post. We make no claim of ownership to The Witcher (though, our AV tech plans on purchasing the third game by the end of the year). We make no claim of ownership to Yennefer or other Witcher characters. We make no money from the creation and release of the song/post in any way, shape or form. We do hope that you enjoy the music as much as we did during recording, rendering and the creation of the art.

--

Moon Dock by Verbovets | https://lesfm.net/ Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/ Creative Commons CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

--

[sinqueen69]

A Beautiful Soul [Geraskier]

Every 10 years the Guardian Deity, the White Wolf sends its Chosen Ones, its Witchers, down to the mortal plane to purge monsters and receive tribute from the humans they protect.

Ao3 | Twitter | Ko-Fi | Curious Cat

[timeladyjamie]

THE WITCHER MOODBOARD: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

“Hatred and vengeance blinded me ... But I shall stand before them in humility. I shall remember the expression in their eyes. I hope the memory of those eyes will stop me making a similar mistake.”

[cinematrix23]

THE WITCHER - MONSTER

[flare-queen]

Watch "the witcher ciri - enemy" on YouTube

[alchemyofpain]

Geralt of Rivia as St. George ✨🗡️ (+ details )

And there it is! This took me like 7 hours to finish but I’m really proud of it!

Honestly, since I played the Witcher wild hunt I always had in mind to recreate some St. George’s art (the dragon slayer) but with geralt. I also really really love Christian and medieval art so I made this! I guess you could call it a little tribute to a game/ book and character that helped me so much in this last year.

Hope you like this as well! 🌈✌️

[fangirleaconmigo]

Lambert and the Tribute

Ok. Hear me out. You know how there is the porny/smutty trope of the witcher who saves a family/town from a dangerous beast? And the towns folk are like, well, we don't have (or want to spend) money, so, here is our young sexy innocent but eager son/daughter as a tribute? *cue porn music*

So as usual last night, I was thinking about blorbos and shit instead of sleeping, and was like...how about we turn that trope around a bit? (not that there is anything wrong with it, I just like fiddling with tropes)

I present to you my concept, and I'm using Lambert for this because as I thought of it, I could hear his voice in my head.

...

So, Lambert comes back from the hunt, exhausted, out of breath, bruised, cut up, but triumphant.

He stands in front of the penniless farmer with the gnarly severed head of a beast. He has saved all of their lives. Because of him, life continues.

But the poor farmer is clearly distraught. He is a young man, early twenties, and is like...thank you so much Mr Witcher sir, we are mighty obliged. But sadly, tragically, we have no money. The harvest was lost, and we are hungry as it is.

The poor farmer tries to explain. Sir, I would gladly offer you my sexy and eager but wide eyed and innocent daughter as tribute, but tragically, my kids are too young to be sexy tributes. Mr. Witcher, they simply aren't reproductive age yet.

And the farmer is standing there, just anxious as hell about what the witcher will demand instead, like, will it be his young bride? His beautiful raven haired wife? They're basically newlyweds still and so very much in love. He can't abide the thought! He's racking his brain, is there anyone young and nubile and teen of aged in the next town???

And then he realizes fuck, WORST OF ALL, I hope this fucker doesn't want the law of surprise because that never ends well. Inside, this man is screaming, please do not take my kids in any capacity.

But isn't that what witchers ALWAYS want??? Children to make into MUTANTS????

So this poor (in every sense of the word) guy is stammering and angsting, but Lambert isn't paying any attention to him. He literally has not said a single word to him. He's not even looking at him. He's leaning a little to the right and looking past this guy, over his shoulder.

The farmer starts to get annoyed. Mr. Witcher, he thinks, I'm struggling here, help me out a little.

Lambert drops the nasty monster head with a thunk and turns back to the guy. Lamb is not particularly put out. He knew this family was poor. But still. This doesn't have to be for nothing.

He wipes the bloody sweat off his forehead with his arm and nods behind the man.

"What about him? He game?"

The farmer looks like his brain has just blanked out. He stares in silence. He slowly turns and looks behind him. Then he turns back to Lambert, waiting for him to laugh or to clarify. Lambert just stares at him expectantly.

"Well?" Lambert asks.

The penniless farmer is like.. "You---you want...m-...m-"

The young farmer doesn't wanna say it because that can't be right and he doesn't wanna embarrass himself. But Lambert is not helping him out at all. He's just looking at him like he's an utter dumbass, just waiting for him to get his shit together. "Spit it out, man."

Farmer tries again. "Mr. Witcher, sir. Are you saying that you want...my... FATHER?"

Lambert looks back at the object of his fascination. An older man is working, hauling bales of hay, loading them up in a wagon. And this man is like, mid-fifties, barrel chest covered with gray hair, full beard, inhospitable expression, overalls, dusty boots. He's thick, muscled and hard, he's covered in sweat, he's got calluses, he looks exactly like a man that's been busting his ass in the fields for more than a few decades.

As Lambert stares at the father, his expression starts to look a little hungry. "Is that your pops?"

"Uhhh yes?' The farmer's voice kind of screeches into a higher register.

Lambert shrugs. "Ok, well yea, your pops then. Ask 'im if he's game. Go ahead. I ain't got all day."

The young farmer just swivels, his eyes still in disbelief, still thinking he's going to humiliate himself. He wants the ground to open up and swallow him. He is starting to think maybe his youngest kid would make a good witcher after all. But Lambert is waiting and doesn't look perturbed. He doesn't look like he's kidding.

"Uh, dad?" The farmer is well, well into adulthood but his voice still cracks. But his dad hears.

The big older guy drops his bale and turns around. His eyes are sharp and hard. "Yep?"

The young farmer swallows. "Yes, um, father, the witcher here saved us."

"Obliged." The older man's voice is low, gravely, and he sounds like a man who does not suffer fools.

Lambert nods, an eager twinkle starting to gleam in his eyes. "Glad to help. It's what I do."

The young farmer continues, "And well, you know, we don't have any money to pay him. What with the bad harvest and all."

The dad nods, waiting. He's quiet too, not helping the young farmer out at all. So the younger farmer soldiers ahead. "So, father, he, the witcher that is, was wondering, um, if you would, um, want to be the uh..." he takes a breath and tries to say it fast, "tribute."

The young farmer almost faints from mortification. He's waiting for his dad to laugh at his idiocy. To shout at him. To kick his ass.

But what the Dad does is slowly raise his eyebrows. Then he turns purposefully towards Lambert. He switches his weight a little to one of his hips, and just quietly begins to look Lambert up and and down, assessing him with extreme interest. He is silently just raking his eyes from the top of Lambert's head down to his toes.

Lambert's grin gets wider, like it gleams, because at this point, he knows he's in. If the man is checking whether he is his type, then well, he's good with men. And Lambert just knows he'll be this man's type. Why wouldn't he be for fuck sake?

When the older man's gaze gets to his crotch, Lambert gives his prick a cocky little squeeze and licks his lips.

The older man grunts, and if the young farmer didn't know it was an interested noise, he certainly does when his father gives Lambert a wink. "Name's Abe, young buck."

The young farmer whispers several prayers for the gods to deliver him from this moment.

"Hi Abe," says Lambert, just eager and smug sounding as shit.

Abe takes his gloves off and hands them to his son as he passes him. He only says three words. "Don't wait up."

Lambert chuckles to himself, and there is a little hop in his step as they walk off together, since he is already anticipating the cock in his ass and could not be more overjoyed. Abe slides his hand down Lambert's trousers and squeezes his ass possessively.

The younger farmer just stands there with his jaw dropped. He had no idea whatsoever that his dad has this side to him. That man silently and stoically raised a family of seven children with his dearly departed mother, rest her soul. All his father ever did was work. You think you know a person. Honestly.

Lambert and Abe are long gone, and the son is still standing there in shock, when his beautiful young bride comes out of the house with a toddler on her hip. "Where did father go?"

The young farmer always likes that about his bride, she calls his dad father. "Yes. Heeee, um, went to pay the witcher for his services."

The young bride is surprised, she didn't know that father had money after the poor harvest they'd had, what with the locusts and all that. But oh isn't that a nice surprise, she thinks. "Well how generous of him. What a kind and giving man father is."

The young farmer puts his arm around his beautiful bride and pulls her in tight. "You know what my darling," he says, "it didn't seem like he minded in the least."

---the end

(and if any of you talented writers out there wants to write the sex scene, I would pledge my eternal friendship and love to you)

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Jaskier is sent as a sacrifice—er, tribute—to Warlord of the North. To his astonishment, the rumours of his terror have been greatly exaggerated in Redania. Lovely romance, smut, events, and characters ensue.

Author: @inexplicifics

Note from submitter: The OG witcher warlord fic. Great worldbuilding and characterization, and the OCs bring a lot of charm to the story

[jeanblack2056]

Soooo, I'm doing a witchertober this year and kinda forgor to post it here as well, so Imma be posting it when I'm done all at once. But. BUT.

Today I did this cute Letho&Julita moment as a tribute to @inexplicifics and just can't resist. The Accidental Warlord AU was the first thing I read from the witcher fandom, and it holds a very special place in my heart.

Letho: Gets crushed by angry wyvern and stabbed with its tail into his bowels.

Letho: Gets up and finishes it off. Returns to Kaer Morhen.

Healers: Sir you should be unconscious, lie down.

Letho: Nah, I'll just chug down another swallow.

Julita: Lip starts wobbling when she sees him.

Letho: Immediately subdued and lets himself be "fretted about uselessly" as they disinfect, sew him up, counter the poison, etc.

Julita: I baked you a pie to get better.

Letho: Thank you snakelet, that's gonna help so much.

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Winter Tales

Ghostly Winds

For @chaoslordjoe

Jaune and Yang smiled as they watched Tristan and Lionel shape their snowmen. While most children would make simple snowpeople with sticks for arms, stones for eyes and a carrot nose, Tristan and Lionel decided to go all out and make snow sculptures. Tristan's was a knight wielding a sword in both hands, while Lionel's was a puppy with a bone in its mouth. Jaune chuckled as he picked up the younger of the two.

Jaune: Seems like we have ourselves two artisans in the making.

Lionel: *chuckles* You know it! I already have a name for this dog right here.

Jaune: Oh? What is it?

Lionel: Gelert! Just like in the story of the Loyal Dog.

Jaune: Awwww, that's really sweet! I'm sure Gelert would appreciate the tribute.

Yang: What about you, little man? Who's this handsome fellow supposed to be?

Tristan: That's me. Some day, I wanna be a great knight! Just like the ones in Vale!

Yang: *nods head* Very nice! Saving kingdoms, swinging swords and riding off in stylish armour.

Tristan: You know it! But if that doesn't work, I can always be like you and Jaune. A Witcher for hire.

Yang: ...you want to be a Witcher?

Tristan: Eh, maybe. But only if I can't be a knight.

Yang: I see... oh... *frowns*

Tristan: Hm? Are you okay?

Yang: ...you know, I think it's about time you went off to bed! *smiles nervously*

Lionel: Aw what?

Tristan: But it's not even dark yet.

Jaune: Boys, listen to your mother. Night falls faster in winter. Come on now, scoot.

Jaune and Yang hurried back inside and tucked in their children to bed. In the living room, Yang cast Igni on the candles and warmed her hands. She had a saddened look on her face.

Jaune: *places blanket over her* Is everything alright? You seem tense.

Yang: *sighs* Of course I'm tense. Tristan wants to be a Witcher.

Jaune: *raises eyebrow* That's what got you worried? Come on, he's a kid. They're always saying silly things like that.

Yang: But what if he's serious about this? Ever since we took him in after his father died, he's always looked up to us. He sees as heroes, even after some of the terrible things we've done.

Jaune: Isn't that a good thing? He doesn't see us as monsters.

Yang: I know, but our life as Witchers isn't what I want for him. It's filled with pain, blood, hatred. *carresses his cheek* We're a family now and I don't want him to face the kind of dangers we did.

Jaune: *holds Yang* He won't, don't worry. Look, I know you love him, Lionel too, but I think you're letting this get to your head a little. Kids change their mind all the time. Remember when Lionel was adamant about hating turnips. One bite of your roast changed that and now he begs for more every day.

Yang: *chuckles* Yeah, you're probably right. I guess I just didn't realise how hard being a mom would be. *turns to Jaune and kisses him* Thank you, sweetheart.

Jaune: Always. Now can I get some of that blanket? It's freezing.

Yang: *laughs and opens the blanket* Get in here.

Jaune sat on Yang's lap as she draped the blanket over both of them. Outside, the snow started fall heavier and the wind picked up. The sound of hooves thundered the ground as a group of knights in jet black armour raced across the landscape. They screeched and howled, their eyes glowing red as hot flames. Any who came into contact with them would never see their old life, their souls now belonging to the riders. Many nations and kingdoms across Remnant feared them, for they were wraiths that brought the omen of war. They were the Wild Hunt... and they were sending a message.

[dragonsandwolvesohmy]

Various Warlord!Geralt stories with what I remember them by, which, generally, isn't a good summary of the fic.

Starting with the one that started it all, and the one with Jaskier's lovely song cycle: With a Conquering Air by inexplicifics.

The one where Jaskier is cursed not to speak/the one with cannibalism by nobles: The Fettered Lark by hoomhum.

The one I keep thinking is A/B/O but isn't, and has the Witcher's tending a herd of wisen: as long as the sun and the moon are above by pallidus.

The actual A/B/O fic with Courting: A Wedding to a Warlord by MessengerGabriel.

The one with lots of tributes present in the keep/Witcher Renfri!: raised by wolf and voices by CountessKlair.

The one where Geralt didn't mean to become a warlord but the person he left in charge thinks him warlord/sends tribute: Also Fettered Lark.

That one where Jaskier is the first tribute, but wagons full had come before him, mostly ending up stuffed in storage, including a lute: Do I have to be who I am? by persephonesprince