THE WITCHER 3: Wild Hunt (2015)
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THE WITCHER 3: Wild Hunt (2015)
âYou donât get to be hurt, youâre supposed to protect me! Geralt!?â
That âcomment on your a03 workâ email hits like a line of cocaine every time. unmatched dopamine increase. shoutout to everyone who leaves a comment on fics. you deserve the world
heyyyy geraskier nation how do we feel about. about them and âletter to an old poetâ by boygenius because personally? personally? crash out every time actually
ive been mostly dragon age brainrotting/posting lately but ohhhh show geralt and jaskier youâre my favorite doomed yaoi
âI said I think that you're special
You told me once that I'm selfish.
And I kissed you hard in the dark
In the closet.â
Ohhh the things I think in my thinky brain. Like, obviously, first thing that comes to mind is the mountaintop squabble, yknow? A grieving, hurting bard, quietly asking Geralt if he wants to leave all of this behind, go to the coast for awhile, and then- ultimately getting so heavily shrugged off, despite years of being so horribly devoted to Geralt, just so the witcher can go fuck his wife and then have things go horribly wrong afterward. He says it, he shows it, Geralt is so special and Jaskier is- shoveling shit.
Itâs such an easy connection to make, but also, Jaskier dragging Geralt to the ceremony in the first place- while he claims itâs for protection, and it mostly was, Iâm sure, but also.. What if it was also just.. an attempt to let Geralt come into his world? Jaskier trying to let his favorite witcher stay in a warm bed with warm food and let him get off the road and instead protect his small fry from a court, yknow?
I also personally think that around this time mightâve also been when they first started messing around, if you believe they messed around at all before the heartbreak that is the mountain. Kissing him hard, in the dark, in the closet,, the bard lying with a witcher he knows doesnât adore him the same way he adores him, but still doing it. Hard, and in the dark, and.. probably in a bedroll.
âYou said my music is mellow
Maybe I'm just exhausted.
You think you're a good person
Because you won't punch me in the stomach.
And I love you
I don't know why
I just do.â
Obviously telling someone that their singing is like ordering a fillingless pie isnât the same as telling them their music is mellow, but my point still stands. Geralt thinks heâs a good person- because thereâs no lesser or greater evil, Geraltâs a good person, heâs great, evil is evil and heâs not subscribing to that bullshit, thanks. (I know itâs more Nuanced than that, especially in the books, but sadly weâre dealing with the absolute.. thing Geralt is in the show, adored or not)
Geralt did in fact punch Jaskier in the stomach. This is Jaskier consuming massive amounts of copium (/j) and definitely not also a throwback to the Renfri debacle and how he got the title âButcher of Blavikenâ which Jaskier oh so kindly called him before getting punched in the gut. I do also think that in this context that just meaning âbecause you wonât physically mistreat/neglect meâ could be.. really interesting, especially under the lens of this being a slightly newer affair.
At the start of their friendship Geralt most likely did neglect/hurt Jaskier, but less in an evil âhe likes kicking sad wet bardsâ way and in a âhe wants this weird fucking bard who doesnât really seem to respect his space and desires to fuck off, and also doesnât really know how to deal with companionship/non-witchersâ way. Think.. giving Jaskier the wrong herbs for certain aches, not noticing his boots giving out after not letting him ride their horse, shit like that.
Things he learned and then remedied, perhaps in excess, but things that definitely stick around- and Jaskier loves him, anyways, even if this all hurts. Even if this entire song is this aching, sensitive thing.
âBut you're not special, you're evil
You don't get to tell me to calm down
You make me feel like an equal
But I'm better than you
And you should know that by now.â
This song? It feels like a more genuine, heart wrenching Burn, Butcher, Burn. Something not born out of righteous anger, but something much worse. Geralt isnât special, heâs evil. Heâs not choosing the lesser or the greater evil, heâs- just as bad, for simply refusing that moral decision and then.. taking it out on everyone else, on some level.
Also just Jaskier trying to lash out in the same way he did in the canon break up song, yknow? Just trying to hurt, get a reaction, because at this point anything is better than several years of this bullshit- so, Geralt isnât special. Heâs evil. If the fucker ever returns, he better not try and get him to simmer his damn emotions because theyâre fair and righteous and- ohhh, I have so many feelings about this.
Especially with the idea of like.. Jaskier having never really shared this song, or if he did, it never really got as popular. Itâs a tad too relatable, a tad too quiet, a soft little thing that hurts too much. Burn, Butcher, Burn has something in it thatâll help it spread like fucking wildfire, whereas this- well. Imagine how Jaskier feels when heâs hugged, when heâs taken from the cell after experiencing hell itself for the witcher he- calling back to previous lyrics- he still loves, and he doesnât know why.
Heâs better than him. He is, and he knows this now, standing in that damn cell, helping Geralt despite it all, heâs fucking better than anyone ever, actually, fuck you. But there was a time where he felt equal to someone he looked up to, someone he knew he could trust- he was a run-away Viscountâs son, a barely-legal bard in a poor bar when he met Geralt. Thereâs no fucking way that man ever felt equal to anyone ever, and yet- Geralt managed, with their time together, and now.. well, Jaskierâs always seen with some damn liquor, torture hardly acknowledged, trying to help get elves to safety and now a princess he blames himself for, trying to fucking- help the woman that had a hand in that damned night. Heâs a better man than even he knew, and Geralt should know that by now- and I think Geralt does.
Geraltâs known since he went down that damn mountain all by himself, but now? While he gets to hold Jaskier in that cell, he knows Jaskier is better than he is. And maybe thatâs one of the reasons why heâs so distant despite everything, that lack of closeness during those episodes were him trying to give Jaskier space. He just went through hell for him and Ciri, the two having not seen each other in years because Geralt had his head too far up his ass and Vesemir never taught him how to deal with feelings like that, dammit, or any at all. He wants to make things better, make it up to him, but.. oh, he just went through so damn much, and Geralt likes distance, so he gave the bard distance- not cold, uncaring distance, but distance all the same. The kind that comes with trusting him with his child, in the keep, with everything, with his need for help. He puts himself back in Jaskierâs hands, even if the bard doesnât realize it fully.
âWhen you fell down the stairs
It looked like it hurt and I wasn't sorry.
I shoulda left you right there
With your hostages, my heart and my car keys.
You don't know me.â
An ever changing song, something private and close- little additions, as Jaskier grows and hurts and aches something awful. Still bitter, still hurting, feelings left unresolved- but still helping, anyways. Heâs not sorry. Or, really, He- is, but not really for Geralt, but for everyone, as a whole. The dead witchers, those who are alive, the princess, hell- even Yennefer, all those damn hostages, victims of a destiny Geralt had claimed all on his own, it wasnât fucking- Jaskier who made him claim the Law of Suprise, dammit. Heâs tired of taking on that burden, and yet he always has. Not anymore, yet still, he helps.
Of course he does. He still tries to help, with a hurt hand and a stronger dependence on alcohol, suddenly and horribly uprooted and rehomed, most likely unwelcome back in Oxenfurt since he was Jail-broke. Heâs not this sniveling, high brow cunt like everyone seemed to think- heâs still a bit of a damn coward, and heâs clumsy and completely out of it, but heâs not an idiot. Heâs a spy of sorts, a smuggler of elves, he went to university for fucks sake- no one in that damn keep knows him, not even Geralt, and yet, he helps anyways.
âI wanna be happy
I'm ready
To walk into my room without looking for you.
I'll go up to the top of our building
And remember my dog when I see the full moon.â
I havenât. Watched S3 yet, sadly, but I do kind of like to think about Radovid and like.. what little I know about the season here. He seems a lot more comfortable with himself, his queer identity, Iâm fairly sure Geralt owns up to more of what happened, the whole gay arc with him and Radovid- Jaskier wants to be happy, and heâs ready to move on, but,,
I donât think he can. Not permanently. He can sleep with Kings or whatever as much as heâd like, but at the end of the day, Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri are all right there. Heâll never not look around and find them, and itâs not- a bad thing, itâs just.. incredibly sobering to think about, Iâm sure.
Itâs a little demeaning I know, lol, but I also like to think about if the two do end up lasting a little longer or like Jaskier ends up with anyone who isnât Geralt, that while maybe he doesnât actually visit the mountain again,, he goes to top of it anyways. He thinks about his dog, or really, his wolf. His witcher. And he always will, even with the most mundane things- such as full moons.
the sandpiper
âFuck Jaskier, wake up!
reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point
reblog if you love archive of our own and how they firmly refuse to let censorship have any place on their platform
I know some fic writers get stressed about writing tropes they think are too popular or overdone, and I need you all to know that I just spent 4 hours reading every iteration of the same exact fic plot I could find, and they all brought me an indescribable amount of joy. Listen. Listen. Sometimes you want cakes of many flavours and sometimes you want Nine Carrot Cakes
Like the Foxglove to the Hummingbird
Dreamling, E rated, Fertility Rituals, Sex Magic, Canon-verse, Soulmates-of-sorts Theirs was a long love affair, Hob and the concept of dreaming.
--
Children were born dreamers. Naturals at seeing what could be instead of what was, at touching the innate fantasy and magic of the world, finding it and building it in their play and in their stories. They lost the knack for it as they aged, as the harsh realities and responsibilities of the world intrudedâbut in their youths, they were looking towards the sky.
Not Hob Gadling.
Hob never had the knack for it. He saw too much, too young: neighbor boys cut down by swords, and just-born babes starving in the winter cold, and good people who tried to help the sick struck down by the same plague. Family, friends, whole villages. Muck was what it was, muck it would stay, and no use harping on dreams when one had to survive.
But survive Hob did, when so many others did not. Hob hit adulthood, and the world still lay before him in all its wasted glory. Hob did not know hope, had no acquaintance with some high fantasy life somewhere far away from here. But Hob did know good ale, good friends, the warmth of a fireplace on a cold night; the rush of stepping off a battlefield with all his limbs intact, and the sweet moans of a lass as he plumbed her secret places for the first time. Hob knew the turning of the sun, and the gentle nicker of a horse that had given him its trustâ and heaven might have been a crap shot, Hell not even worth thinking of, but there were dreams down there in the muck, if one was willing to trust in life.Â
Hob believed not in progress or a better world, or a grand arc of history that bent toward justice. He only believed that there would be a tomorrow, and that something there would be worth sticking around for.Â
Hob Gadling was not born a dreamer, but he chose to become one. And later, Hob would think that someone out there must have had a sense of humorâfor they saw fit to send this scrappy, self-made dreamer, of all people, an actual dream.
â
The creature that stopped before Hob could have stepped out of a dream. Only later would Hob know how right he had been in that thought. For now, all he knew was that the most ethereal thing was standing over him, querying him, challenging him. And Hob was inclined to meet that challenge, to push onwards, he always was.
Besides, his dream creature was so pretty. And he looked at Hob with such fixation. Like Hob had plucked some string within him he hadnât known was there, and he was trying to pick out the notes of that song.
Hob was challenged to return, to meet him again. And he would. Hob wanted to meet him again. To touch this being that had come down off its cloud. He felt like he was meant to.
In truth, he wanted to have him now. To lure this strange creature who was challenging him not to die out behind the tavern andâ no, that certainly wasnât good enough for this dream of a thing, he would have to find a proper room, he would want to do this properly.
Hob would make him feel so good if only he wanted. It struck him like a blow, that wanting. A peek at something he wasnât yet meant to touch.
But he could be patient. Hob wasnât often patient, but he could be, for this. He would meet this stranger again, and find out why. Get a proper look at what he had only glimpsed.
He told his dream creature as much. Grinned at the self-satisfied smile that was returned to him. His strange creature might not believe him, that he would come back, that he wouldnât give up. But Hob had made his choice long before they had met, and wasnât inclined to change it.
â
The day Jaskier ran away from Lettenhove was actually meant to be his wedding day.
Arranged marriage nobility thing.
If Jaskier is being honest, he never expected to meet his former so-Fiancé.
So itâs more awkward that Jaskier, who accompanies Geralt, is hired by the ex-fiancĂ©e to solve disappearances in the city.
What Jaskier doesn't know is that the original wedding was actually supposed to end in his murder
-
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I think part of the reason I'm so obsessed with Geralt and Jaskier, especially post-mountain apology fics is I'm projecting onto it. That fantasy of being apologized to, being made up to, being given attention above and beyond by someone who ignored you before - that's the dream, isn't it? That's the dream.
To have someone who underappreciated you and thought you were annoying turn around and say, "I was wrong, I adored your presence, You were never a bother, you were never annoying, and I miss you so much and I will spend the rest of our relationship letting you know how much I love and appreciate you." It's a drug I will never get enough of.
This pic is very pretty
I keep thinking about how painful this has to be. I mean, even just laying there, his feet are as high as his head. Which means his hips and are at least somewhat bend in the wrong direction.
No matter if he sits, stands or lays down, his body has to constantly adapt to the curve of the bowl, for over a century.
Iâm ready to go nuts after 20 minutes of trying to sit with my legs crossed in a chair that has curved up edges.
Even putting the mental torture and the spikes and being cut off from his realm aside, just sitting in there for such a long time has to be physically unbearable. He is stuck in something round, cold and seethrough that never lets him relax fully.
hey hope u r doing good! im continuing with yet another year of absolutely loving your content (fr one of the only reasons i ever go on tumblr anymore is when i go âoh i want to see some new whump, i should check out if aceofwhump has posted anythingâ cause you always rec soooo good stuff)!
anyways, ive recently started hyperfixating on the sandman - and i was wondering if you have any whumpy and/or angsty fic recs for dream of the endless? thank u !!!
Hi there! I'm doing well thanks for asking! I hope your new year is going well!
Oh my god I love the Sandman. Yes I totally have some fic recs for you. I went through my own hyperfixation on angsty Dream fics so I got you.
These are my favorites:
Can I Sleep in Your Brain Tonight, Stranger? by equus8 Summary: Dream of the Endless gets more than he bargained for in the Burgess' basement. Hob Gadling is just trying to live his comfortable domestic life. Neither of them are prepared for what comes after the glass shatters.
I will find you in your dreams by Salmaka Summary: A story where Dream, confused and weak from his time in isolation doesn't make it back to the Dreaming but ends up in Hob's house instead.
Bones Don't Rust by not_whelmed_yet Summary: But he wasnât in the Dreaming here. He was pinned to the incremental march of seconds upon seconds upon seconds that made up minutes and days and years. He was stranded in a form severed from the Dreaming. Like soil run through a sieve, the damned circle had held back the greater part of himself. He ached for it, for a form where he could simply choose not to feel the cold sinking into his bones, or the swimming haziness of air used up, or the hunger sweetly gnawing on the core of him. -- The same capture & rescue fic everyone has written, but playing off two ideas: - I wanted to see Dreamâs physical recovery take long enough that he could begin his mental/emotional recovery before heading back to the Dreaming - Thereâs a lot of ways to hurt an anthropomorphic entity without taking them out of their snowglobe
which is worse, life without death or sleep without dreams? by galaxy_of_pi Summary: It had been thirty three years since he was abandoned. It had been a hundred and thirty three years. It had been a lifetime, and it had been an instant. But Hob was waiting, and would always be waiting, because his Stranger was worth it. AKA the heist to break Dream out of his snowglobe prison
More often than not. by TrainWreakBeck Summary: âIs that why you missed our meeting then? Some fucker had you in a cage?â Thereâs a slight growl in Hobs voice as he has to speak his friend's fate aloud, he expects him to again be amused by Hobs anger but he simply looks away towards the window with no clear expression. ââŠperhaps.â Thereâs no real intonation in his tone and Hob feels a brief stab of anxiety over what that could mean. In which Dream and Hob have a conversation which quickly leads them to decide that meeting once every hundred years isnât quite enough for them anymore.
Regis Sanguinem by AllOfTheChaos Summary: Alexander stands up on shaking feet. âI canât do this anymore.â He takes a few steps back and his eyes shift towards Dream. âIâm sorry.â He whispers before turning around and heading up the stairs, one of the guards quickly follows after him, a hand on young manâs back to steady him. âAlex! Alex, get back here right now!â Roderick hollers back. He turns to the Endless and growls. âYouâre never getting out of here.â Before following after his son. *** Roderick Burgess doesn't meet a fatal end and after his son leaves him, things take a dark turn. In his desperate attempt to take power from his prisoner, Roderick Burgess resorts to twisted ways to force the Endless to give him what he desired: Immortality. Dream never thought humans capable of such cruelty and yet here he was now scared and in pain, hoping for salvation.
Better to love whether you win or lose or die by WitchyBee Summary: The life and times of one Robert Gadling. -- Excerpt: Hob ought to take the hint; he knows he should. A crystal-clear rejection of his friendship. Message received. But Hob Gadling didnât survive plague and war, weather years of hardships and heartbreak and Thatcher-era Britain, without a profound sense of stubbornness about him.
To Learn to Breathe Again by ironlin Summary: Upon returning back to the Dreaming, Dream finds himself struggling. Thankfully, Lucienne is there to help.
Step by Step by Hopeful_Foolx Summary: After all that happened, that the Lord of Dreams gets sick is a surprise ... to nobody but himself. Three chapter with three (or more) people that are there for him.
Stubborn, Prideful, Dear by two_hundred_percent_trashSummary: First, Lucienne was Dreamâs raven. Then, she became his librarian. Through it all, she was always by his side. It was always the two of them, together. ~*~ A queerplatonic interpretation/relationship study of Morpheus and Lucienneâs relationship.
Baby Brother by Anonymous Summary: Death has known for years why Dream had fallen silent and where he was being held, but she's been unable to act upon her knowledge until he'd been locked up for over thirty years. When she finally has the time to save him, she is horrified to see what they've been doing to her baby brother all these years.
I just wanna sing until I die by creativefuckerzspring Summary: First, He turns up 130 or so years later. Then, he turns up 6 years later at his doorstep, shivering and drenched like a wet cat. Hob is utterly confused why the lonely Not Friend of his is breaking patterns so severely.
For Want of Caution by mayanpaw Summary: Hob Gadling was not by nature a cautious man but even he knew the value of keeping track of those who would be too⊠intrigued by his condition. In 1926, a chance conversation in a bar alerts Hob to the fact that Roderick Burgess has captured another immortal, one that sounds eerily similar to his friend.
Looking For A Dream by Picture_Yourself Summary: A prequel to my fic I'm Morpheus, Please Dance With Me It's 1989, and Hob Gadling is waiting for his friend to show up. But unfortunately, Dream is still trapped in the Burgess estate with no way to escape. Now Hob needs to find out what happened to his friend and help him the best he can. On his adventures he meets a⊠colorful collection of ordinary and fantastical characters. Discontinued until further notice :( Series Part 3 of More Than Friends
And I'll kneel down, wait for now by Thesuspiciousflyingjellyfish Summary: As the night comes, Hob waits. The person that arrives is not his usual companion. But they certainly direct him to his wayward friend.
Darker, Still by CeruleanHeart Summary: When Dream doesn't show up for their appointment in 1989, Hob decides to devote a part of his immortality to looking for his mysterious friend. He is dedicated not to wait and hope for another century for the slim chance of seeing him again. Even if he has to bribe, lie and steal, use every trick in the book he's learned in the past 600 years, he will find him. After over a century, Dream has almost given up on the hope of ever escaping his prison when help finally shows up in the form of someone least expected, compelling him to re-evaluate the nature of his interest in an old acquaintance.
slow burn by arahir Summary: Hob learns where his friend has been, and even Dream of the Endless might, on rare occasion, need a hand.
A shift in the sand by purplegardenshark Summary: Alex Burgess makes better decisions, and a friend. The story shifts accordingly
Shall We Dream (of a Brighter Future)? by Merianon Summary: In which: Alexander Burgess is a little more curious and open-minded as a child; Jessamy the Raven takes a risk; Dream of the Endless just wants out of the snow globe; Paul McGuire thinks Alex should have done this years ago. Now featuring: Hob Gadling, who is very happy that his "not"-friend might be a little more than that; Jed Walker, who has made a new friend; and Rose Walker, who only really cares that she has her little brother back. Oh, and Calliope likes to gossip with Alex and the others.
Losing control by Random_writer (SB_95) Summary: When everything seemed too much for him to manage, Dream seeks refuge in the house of his only friend. The problem is that the situation is not so simple, and now his family decides that they want to help him solve his problems, even without him asking for help. However, Dream only wants help from one person, and is not a Endless.
Dream of Death by Gueniver Summary: What if Jessamy had managed to escape from Alex's gun and could inform the Endless of Dream's Capture? What if Death could save Dream only after a few years of capture? The tools are still lost, but he has his sibling's help.
Hello Ace!
I hope you are doing okay. I got a question, I am getting back into the Sandman tv series and I was curious if there was any good sandman whump out there?
Tom sturridge looks so pretty when he's sad :(
Anyway you are the mage all things whump! So I thought you would be the one to ask :D
Oh YES! I love the Sandman and yes Tom looks so good when he's sad.
In the show, season 1 is chock full of sad Dream. Check out my tag for all the good gifs. Especially episodes 1 and 4. Season 2 has had a few good things too but I'm not gonna spoil that.
Fanfics (I have many recs. Most of which are Dreamling centered and focus on his 100 years of captivity):
Dream of Death by Gueniver: What if Jessamy had managed to escape from Alex's gun and could inform the Endless of Dream's Capture? What if Death could save Dream only after a few years of capture? The tools are still lost, but he has his sibling's help.
Darker, Still by CeruleanHeart: When Dream doesn't show up for their appointment in 1989, Hob decides to devote a part of his immortality to looking for his mysterious friend. He is dedicated not to wait and hope for another century for the slim chance of seeing him again. Even if he has to bribe, lie and steal, use every trick in the book he's learned in the past 600 years, he will find him. After over a century, Dream has almost given up on the hope of ever escaping his prison when help finally shows up in the form of someone least expected, compelling him to re-evaluate the nature of his interest in an old acquaintance.
Baby Brother by Anonymous: Death has known for years why Dream had fallen silent and where he was being held, but she's been unable to act upon her knowledge until he'd been locked up for over thirty years. When she finally has the time to save him, she is horrified to see what they've been doing to her baby brother all these years.
Step by Step by Hopeful_Foolx: After all that happened, that the Lord of Dreams gets sick is a surprise ... to nobody but himself. Three chapter with three (or more) people that are there for him.
To Learn to Breathe Again by ironlin: Upon returning back to the Dreaming, Dream finds himself struggling. Thankfully, Lucienne is there to help.
Bones Don't Rust by not_whelmed_yet: But he wasnât in the Dreaming here. He was pinned to the incremental march of seconds upon seconds upon seconds that made up minutes and days and years. He was stranded in a form severed from the Dreaming. Like soil run through a sieve, the damned circle had held back the greater part of himself. He ached for it, for a form where he could simply choose not to feel the cold sinking into his bones, or the swimming haziness of air used up, or the hunger sweetly gnawing on the core of him.