#(supporters of his point out if Emhyr had been Long then it would likely have been Pavetta who committed the Crime of the Sky)
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nest of leathers - WIP
CW//omegaverse
Emhyr/Impera that accidentally became crackish which might disqualify this scene to becoming part of the NoL fic
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“Even if he did make an attempt to be more feminine, it’s not as though it would be enough to shut the nobles up. They’d just find something new to complain about.”
A hissed whisper from between gritted teeth.
“Talking of shutting up, aren’t you of noble birth, Hendrik?”
“Are you technically still of noble birth if you were disowned? I resent you for bringing that up, by the way. Anyway, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. An omega is an omega. Who cares what he looks like? As long as there’s slick and somewhere for me to stuff my knot, I’m good to go.”
Emhyr cannot stop himself from laughing, abandoning feigning sleep to clap a hand to his forehead.
It’s not hard to see why Hendrik’s mouth might have been a leading factor to his disownment.
It’s mildly heartwarming to hear he has some support from his Impera, even if it had been put in the most base of ways.
“Your majesty, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect! I just think that-“
“Hendrik.”
The young alpha shuts up instantly, mouth closing with an audible click. Emhyr really does enjoy his easy obedience. Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t insist on discipline.
“I think we might all be better off if we hear less of what you think. Now be quiet, all of you, but especially you, Hendrik. I was, at some point in the last forty eight hours, asleep and I’d like to return to that state.”
Hendrik bows his head and gives Emhyr a cowed look, doe eyes gazing contritely at him from beneath his eyelashes.
That boy was going to be a headache.
-/-
Hendrik’s hands greedily caress every inch of his body, the alpha’s teeth nipping at Emhyr’s chest, teeth and tongue teasing at the omega’s nipples.
Emhyr groans in a mix of frustration and pleasure as his sore chest is touched once more, undecided in whether to push towards the pleasure-pain or pull away from it.
The alpha looks up at him in concerned confusion, gently pressing a kiss to his chest in apology. His hands halt at Emhyr’s waist, thumbs nervously kneading away, tracing circles on Emhyr’s skin.
“Well I didn’t say stop.”
Emhyr sighs, a bemused smile slipping its way onto his face.
“Why is it you’re all so obsessed with my chest? At this point I’m concerned I’ll never be able to comfortably wear a fitted shirt again.”
Hendrik’s ears burn red, and the other Impera in the room for once decide to avert their eyes, conveniently distracted.
“It’s- it’s just that none of us have ever bedded an omega before, never mind a male omega, sire. I’ve never even met one before you. Male omegas don’t exactly grow on trees…”
The plucky alpha is surprisingly hesitant.
“Hendrik, against my better judgment, I implore you to finish your statement.”
Hendrik’s entire face is bright red now and the ranks of Impera scattered throughout the room are suddenly tense and still where they had been relaxed.
It doesn’t bode well.
The words tumble out of the young man in a frantic rush, as though he isn’t able to keep the words in for a second longer.
“Well sire, it’s pretty much the one thing I hear that omegas universally enjoy. I didn’t really know how male and female omegas differ, uh you know, down below, and we decided this was a good failsafe if it looked like you weren’t enjoying yourself.”
Emhyr closes his eyes for a moment, determined to make his Impera suffer with him in the wrought tension of the silent room.
“We, Hendrik? Who exactly is we?”
The young alpha stammers, looking back and forth between Emhyr and the other Impera brigade officers who are determined to not make eye contact with anyone, and if possible, anything.
“Just, just the lads and I. Sorry. We’re sorry. We know you didn’t want this, want us, we just wanted you to be happy.”
Hendrik’s voice wavers a little, the young man visibly uneasy.
Emhyr feels strangely guilty. His men had discussed how to take care of him during his heat, to not just get through it unscathed but to actively ensure Emhyr had a pleasurable experience.
To make the best out of a situation they’d known Emhyr had not wanted to be in.
Emhyr’s tucks a errant lock of hair back behind Hendrik’s ear, doing his best to smooth the chaotic tangle of the young alpha’s hair back into order.
Hendrik leans hesitantly into his touch, tentatively pressing his cheek into the palm of Emhyr’s hand.
Emhyr swallows. “Well. Like I said. I didn’t tell you to stop.”
Hendrik grins up at him, any trace of upset instantly erased.
#omega emhyr#siumai's word salad#I need his impera to BREED THAT OLD MAN#oh no i love them#imperabrigade#impera/emhyr
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i’ve been playing a lot of meditative comfort games recently and i am currently kind of obsessed with the idea of Yennefer as a Moth-Long favored by the Ring-Yew. the principle of change and metamorphosis, chaos and secrecy? the Hour of desire and relentlessness, a God-from-Flesh whose other principles are Heart, of ceaselessness and protection, and Grail, of birth and thirsting? a pathway to ascension marked by the shedding of one’s flesh for new shapes, the trading of form and life for power? like, that’s Yenna!!
#my niche crossover headcanons are sexy and irrefutable 😌#‘The Ring-Yew commanded I bare my flesh and I obeyed. I will not always obey the Ring-Yew.’ LIKE#frankly when i say ‘of the Ring-Yew’ i mean ‘ascended under the Ring-Yew‚ now an Obliviate in opposition to the Hours’ rule’#Ciri is Knock like her mother btw; of openings and gateways‚ oracles and wounds#Geralt is Winter: of grieving‚ quiet‚ death and kindness by death#Dandelion is 100% mundane and everyone is working so so hard to prevent him from getting ritually sacrificed#Philippa is Edge & a Long of the Colonel (‘the actual canon polymorph should be Moth’ u say pffffft ok fine acknowledged but consider this)#(the Colonel gave his sight for power; the patient‚ lethal‚ & cunning; the counterrevolutionary & promoter of current power status quos)#(but also the one who stands against the Worms in the World just as Philippa stands against the White Frost)#so u might ask: does that make Yen’s rival Philippa? the answer is no. chiefest among Yen’s obstacles is Emhyr#Emhyr is Lantern and of the Sun-in-Rags; and more than anything he wants the daughter he fathered with the Long Pavetta returned to him#(he is consumed by it. no one knows if Emhyr himself was a Long when he fathered Ciri—but they whisper)#(supporters of his point out if Emhyr had been Long then it would likely have been Pavetta who committed the Crime of the Sky)#(...unless Pavetta made a deal in secrecy with a reluctant reckoner for him to take her child to save its life ohoho)#also listen Yen would never if she could avoid it—the House is no place for lovers#but TELL me if she wanted that Geralt wouldn't LET Yenna kill him & root the Wood in his rotting lungs so he could follow her to the Mansus#hot.#laurelnose.txt#i made this post for Me but if you need context it’s about#yen of the Moth#secret histories tag
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⭐!
Gaah, choice choices.
One thing I'd like to talk about is political idealism (wait, wait, it gets interesting I promise). In the game, Ciri's reasoning for taking up Emhyr on his offer are not extremely clear. She mentions to Geralt that "if she wants to change things she has to do it from Nilfgaard". There is mention of a letter from Emhyr and if she appears in Toussaint she randomly refers to the man as papa (please refer to our subject expert @andordean on why this is horseshit, just make sure there is nothing breakable near) and that she doesn't want to be anyone's puppet, which fair enough.
So what is it that Ciri wants to change? There is lowhanging fruit like "don't start another war of conquest" (though even this isn't that easy: alot of people have grown fat on this policy). But what else? Certainly she cannot dismantle the empire, the powers that be would never let her and there is no real reason that this would make it better for the avarage citizen: indeed for mages and nonhumans, it might even make it worse. And she cannot do everything on her own, she needs polical support. Ciri is impatient, passionate and occasionally rash but she is far from stupid and she has had the opportunity to learn from the best. No not Emhyr: let us be honest in whom Ciri would actually treat as as role model when it comes to ruling.
(BTW the only part of The Witcher Netflix I unapolegetically stan)
No Calanthe was no saint either, no matter which interpretation of the character you follow. She fought her wars and certainly backstabbed a few dudes and surely there was both one or three people who didn't like her. But she tried to protect her people and ruled well, for a long time (which would have been longer if not for a certain son-in-law but I digress).
But lets be honest, Ciri was also raised by Geralt and Yennefer, perpetual outsiders or semioutsiders who both believe, deeply (even against their own intentions) in doing whats right and sacrificing everything for others. (In the game epilogue they credit Ciri's combination of political acumen and sense justice to Emhyr and Geralt but Calanthe and Yennefer has just as much if not more influence here).
So back to political idealism. Ciri, it should be noted, does not have to take the throne. Certainly she owes nothing to her birthfather and she has already saved the world once. Furthermore, she could, literally tear a hole in reality and sip wine in actual Camelot for the rest of her days.
Ciri takes the throne of an empire, knowing that she cannot change the fact that that is what Nilfgaard is. And she doesn't just want to rule just cause is fun (it isn't) or her destiny (it isn't). No she wants to do something with it, make the world into a better place something which someone with her upbringing has a unique perspective on. And as this ask was about a directors cut, here is the scene where she lays it out (to Triss, as it happens)
I ran with a gang once, did Geralt tell you?” said Ciri “Down in Geso, smack dab in the middle of the Korath frontier, all while half of Nilfgaard were looking for me. What a merry gang of young highwaymen we were! Thieves, murderers, brigands. We would ride were we wanted, take what we desired, kill anyone who protested. Sometimes we killed just for the cheer joy of it, the power of holding a life in your hand." Her fist clenched around the flower pedal. "I’ve tried drinks aplenty, fisstech, elven drugs you wouldn't believe but that power? Greatest high I've ever had."
Triss sat still. "Geralt never told me."
"That your little sister is a bona-fide murderer? A petty thief like those Morvran decorate the trees with? I suppose he didn't." She took a deep breath, air heavy in her lungs as she slowly unclenched her fist. "The point Triss, is that those people I rode with were damaged. Evil little bastards all but not from birth, well, not most of them. They were, what did you call the people in the Putrid grove, the refuse thrown up onto the docks. Only they ended up in Geso and instead of begging or selling their bodies for scraps they became the very thing they had ran from. And so they did more evil and more evil until the local baron to rid himself of them brought in a man you don't even want to think about. And thus, the violence and evil spreads. That’s the logic of empire."
She looked at the sorceress, green eyes meeting blue. "I can never atone for the things I did in Geso, no matter how many hospitals I open or orphanages I fund. But if I can avoid restarting that cycle again I will do everything in my power to do so."
Triss put her hands on her shoulder. "And I shall do what is within my power to help you. But if you take responsibility for every possible disaster in the empire you are going to spread yourself mighty thin."
"I don't know how to live any other way anymore. Avallac'h told me I was needed to save the world. I guess I never figured out how to stop."
"Imperial logic is not the white frost."
"Yet it is as merciless. And far more insidious." Ciri said.
(People really need to show Ciri's time with the Rats as more formative then they do)
Ciri wants to end the cycle of war and conquest, of rebellion and suppression and the only way to do so is from within Nilfgaard, the biggest player around (especially after the third war). Is it morally right? Doesn't the north deserve its freedom?
Well maybe, and thats where political friction and the dark side of political idealism come in. But Ciri makes her choice to be empress out of idealism and a large part of what I write about, when I write Ciri anyway, is that choice. Its not the happy choice, it might not even be the right choice. But its her choice and this, I think, are the reasons for it.
Thank you @poeti-kat for the ask! Its here in case anyone's interested :)
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Would you ever write in epistolary format?
My creative writing teachers would be so sad that I had to google that, but for any people like me, this means written in a document format, such as letters.
And the answer is definitely yes! I actually have a WiP I started waaaaaaaay back for rorveth that is sorta this, although I was torn on if I wanted it to be just letters or letters interspersed with POV exposition. But I looooove letter fics. Like, one of my most memorable fics I've written was back in like 2010 and I named it after Joe Cocker's song "Oh My Baby, He Wrote Me A Letter". This was for the BBC Merlin fandom, so not sure that's interesting to anyone, but I really remember that one, for some reason. And letters are FUN to write!
Just 'cause, here's the beginning of the letters WiP I started for rorveth (appropriately titled 'letters' XD).
The first letter arrived in an unremarkable fashion, just one more piece of parchment on the already messy desk of Vernon Roche, the new Imperial Administrator of the Vassal State of Temeria. After everything he’d fought for, he’d certainly never expected to be stuck behind a desk. The one saving grace of the job was that Ves was still his right-hand-woman and when she got tired of the paperwork, no one told her to put the knife away.
Then again, it would take a very brave man to challenge Ves, and Roche had yet to see any do so successfully.
But the letter – it was entirely mundane, nothing noteworthy about it whatsoever. From the outside, anyway. Roche wasn’t even sure which aide had left it on his desk when. But when he picked up the letter and flipped it over to break the seal, he noticed that the wax had a flower pressed into it, some sort of blue blossom that he didn’t recognize. Roche’s brow furrowed. What an odd choice for a seal.
Things only got stranger when he cut through the wax and read the letter itself. It was only one word: Kingslayer.
Roche stiffened. If this was a threat, it was an effective one. Not that Radovid was the first king he’d killed, but King Henselt had long since passed into memory in the quickly-changing political landscape of the north.
Realistically, if someone knew about their plot against Radovid, there was little they could do with it. Roche had no doubt that Emperor Emhyr was already very aware of Roche’s actions – Nilfgaard’s spies were impressive, and that was about all he could say in support of the empire – and the fucker had made Roche head of Temeria anyway. It wouldn’t be great if the people of Temeria found out about it, but Radovid had never been a true ally. Besides, if word did get out and he was removed from office, he would finally be able to get back in the field.
Please? he absentmindedly sent the prayer to whatever deity might be paying attention. Nilfgaard had different gods than the Northern Kingdoms did, and Roche had seen so much of war that it was hard to believe there could be any higher being out there, but at some point, it had become habit to frame the thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have as prayers.
He flipped the letter over to look at the wax seal again. Who the fuck would send him a threat – was it a threat? – and seal it with a flower?
Actually, that was a stupid question. The real question was why would the elf reach out to him at all? Roche hadn’t had contact with the Scoia’tael since Loc Muinne, when Temeria’s future was essentially handed to Nilfgaard and suddenly all that mattered was protecting his homeland. He hadn’t – well, he hadn’t exactly told Iorveth that he was abandoning the fight against nonhumans to fight against Nilfgaard (for all the good that had done), but he had seen the elf only once since then. Iorveth had left the very clear impression that it would be the last time.
In retrospect, Roche could see how being told that “the only thing that matters is Temeria” might be insulting to someone who had been fighting for a free elven state for decades. Nonetheless, he couldn’t take the words back and from the way Iorveth’s face had gone cold and stony the moment the words had left Roche’s mouth, and the way Iorveth had turned and left without a word – well, Roche had honestly assumed that the elf was done with him.
He’d ignored the complicated way he felt about that for years, but now suddenly, Iorveth’s decision to reach out – is that what this was? – had his mind going back to that day. He’d been in so much pain at the time, the loss of his men and his own treasonous actions fresh in his thoughts and weighing down on him. Iorveth had found him packing up his camp on his way back to Vizima, catching Roche entirely by surprise.
If he’d been less off balance then, would things have gone differently? At the time, he hadn’t known the hole Iorveth’s absence would leave in his life, the aching sense of being adrift without a sense of purpose, without the thing whose opposition had defined him. He had always been Vernon Roche, Commander of the Blue Stripes, Authority on all Nonhuman Affairs. And even after he’d become Vernon Roche, Freedom Fighter, he’d never quite adjusted the definition of himself, never quite learned how to be Roche without Iorveth on the other side of his coin.
Maybe that was why Iorveth was reaching out. Maybe he felt the same, felt aimless and pointless now that Nilfgaard had taken over everything and nonhumans were given the same respect and rights as humans. Maybe Iorveth was also stuck behind some desk, fingers that were meant to hold a sword cramping around a too-delicate quill.
Roche shook his head and then rubbed his face. If he let his thoughts continue in that direction, he’d be too miserable to get anything done. What he needed was a quick break to splash some water on his face and then to get back to work. Because even if Roche was a remnant of a bygone age, Temeria was still everything, and he would serve his homeland however he was needed. Even if it slowly killed him inside.
When he returned to his desk, the letter still sat there innocently, words face-down because he wasn’t that careless. But that meant he was faced with the little blue flower pressed into white wax. It was actually rather pretty, though only an elf would do a ridiculous thing like seal a letter with one.
He should throw it away or burn it or otherwise dispose of the letter that named his crime, but instead, Roche found himself filing it in his desk, hidden under a stack of parchment. He could always get rid of it later.
––
The next letter arrived about a week later. As soon as Roche saw that little blue flower seal, his heart started to beat faster and he reached for it immediately. He broke the wax and unfolded the letter to find that this time, Iorveth hadn’t limited himself to one word. Instead, he’d filled the parchment with his oddly shaky handwriting and when Roche lifted it to his nose, he could catch the faint herbal scent of gin underneath the sweet floral smell. If Iorveth had been drinking while writing, it would certainly explain the bad handwriting. But why would Iorveth drunkenly write him, of all people?
He bit his lip and wondered where Iorveth was now. Even if he knew and tried to respond, he wouldn’t know what to say to Iorveth after all this time. He couldn’t regret the decisions he’d made, as fruitless as they may have ended up being. Being Temerian was such a core part of his identity that Roche could never have done anything else.
Still, he almost feared what Iorveth may have written in his inebriated state. It wasn’t as if the elf hadn’t insulted him extensively to his face. Why should he care if the same words made their way onto this parchment?
But he did care. Their last meeting had broken something deep inside him, something he wasn’t ready to examine yet. He would rather be faced with the memory of Iorveth turning away from him, face blank, and never saying a word as he left for the very last time, than to know that even now, Iorveth’s hatred for Roche sustained him.
Roche himself was just too tired for hate anymore. Maybe that was the point of this ridiculous administrative role – to make him so exhausted and docile that he was no longer a threat. Roche wouldn’t put it past Emhyr to plan such a thing.
Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and read the letter.
I wonder if it still brings you pride, to know that you’ve won. The Scoia’tael are no more. My men are gradually being reintroduced into society – Nilfgaardian society, of course. The same Nilfgaard that declared us traitors and tried to assassinate us after the Peace of Cintra. It makes me sick to bear the Golden Sun on my armor, and yet, my men are finally free or as close as we will ever get. I should be happy – the Scoia’tael are no more because there is no longer a need for us.
So why do I wish we were still in the forests outside Flotsam, fighting a never ending bloody battle?
It ended like that, abruptly, though from the link blots below the last words, Roche suspected Iorveth had debated saying more.
What was he supposed to do with this? What good was the knowledge that Iorveth was just as miserable as he was, just as desperate for a return to when things made sense and the lines between this side and that one were clear?
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I saw a Witcher/Hellsing crossover mentioned in the tag and I was just inundated with ideas for it, so I’ll ramble here instead of attaching a tl;dr to that post. I’m a huge fan of the Witcher, and yet somehow I’ve never actually considered a Witcher AU for Hellsing (and Andercard of course; it’s my modus operandi). This is based on the Witcher games, books, and a little bit of the The Witcher RPG since the Netflix show isn’t my thing.
First of all, for the unfamiliar:
Witcher = a person (usually as a child) that has been mutated and trained to be a monster hunter. They have greater endurance, enhanced healing, enhanced senses, are able to drink potions that would be deadly to the average person, and can perform a small degree of magic called ‘signs’. One can tell a person is a Witcher by their eyes, since they look like cats eyes. Sometimes Witcher’s have other indications, but the eyes are the most consistent feature.
To become a Witcher, a candidate must go through three trials. All of them are exceptionally difficult and painful. The first two trials, the Trials of Grasses and Dreams, basically break down the body through use of various potions and rebuild it, while the third is basically a test for those who survive the first two trials. Very few children put through the trails survive; sometimes there’s only one survivor among those brought in to undergo the trials, and those who die do so in complete agony. Understandably, many Witcher’s are bitter about this whole ordeal and resent being turned into what they are. Witcher’s are also regarded with suspicion and dislike and no better than the monsters they kill, which makes being a Witcher even more torrid.
Vampires = vampires in the Witcher aren’t like your traditional vampires. They’re a race rather than creatures born of humans and they reproduce as any other creature does. Lesser vampires are generally unintelligent, beastly, bat-like creatures, while Higher vampires are intelligent and near indistinguishable from a human. Higher vampires often live among the other races and can integrate well, though some choose to live only among their own, and a rare few even stay with Lesser vampires. While Higher vampires are very different from their Lesser counterparts, they can turn into giant bats or similar creatures.
Higher vampires also don’t need blood to subsist. They can eat whatever they like, but some vampires do drink blood because blood is addictive to them and offers an experience not unlike drinking alcohol. Blood also has rejuvenating and strengthening qualities to it. Lesser vampires do seem to drink blood as part of their diet.
Honestly, Witcher vampires require a lot of explanation, so here’s the wiki for them. They’re a really interesting take on vampires.
Conjunction of the Spheres = a point in history where different dimensions collided with the world of the Dwarves and Gnomes and various different races fell through rifts and got trapped there. At the time the books start, they’ve all been there for well over a millennia and have thoroughly integrated.
Anderson:
Since Nilfgaard is based on the Roman Empire and has a religion functionally similar to Catholicism, I think it’d be appropriate to place Anderson as being from there. He’d be proud of being Nilfgaardian and would introduce himself as a Witcher of Nilfgaard alongside mentioning his guild. But being a Nilfgaardian Witcher is kind of an oxymoron since the Witcher schools were around before Nilfgaard started spreading through the South, and Witcher’s aren’t actually wanted or really used there anymore... in fact, the school most strongly associated with Nilfgaard - the Viper school, which is where I’m placing Anderson - was straight up destroyed by Nilfgaard. An Emperor (Upsurpur of Fergus var Emreis, specially) tried to take over the School of the Viper, failed, and then the Nilfgaardian army destroyed their keep and banned the Viper Witcher’s from entering core Nilfgaardian cities. Nowadays, most Nilfgaardian’s barely know what Witcher’s even are. Viper Witcher’s are thoroughly displaced; unwanted and relatively unknown in the South, reviled in the North, and with no keep to take refuge in, but Anderson still considers himself Nilfgaardian and is loyal to the Empire and the Great Sun despite no longer being welcome in his home city. He’s also has loyalty to Emhyr because he always regarded Fergus’ son as the rightful Emperor during the Usurpers reign and he’s happy when Emhyr returns to take the throne.
Before all that happened, Anderson grew up in various orphanages in Nilfgaard, going first from a decent one in the City of Golden Towers, and then to an over-packed and impoverished one closer to the border. Support for the orphanage eventually fell through, and almost all the children ended up at the Viper school when a Viper Witcher saw an exciting opportunity to expand the guild and took all the boys. Anderson went on to become a Witcher, while all but one other orphan died during the trials.
The potions used on Anderson were experimental and had a lot of vampire components for regeneration purposes. Anderson has a chip on his shoulder about that and specialises in hunting vampires as both a consequence of his hatred, and because his enhancements make it easier for him than his fellow Witcher’s.
Continuing under the read more since this is getting long.
Since Anderson’s trials emphasised regeneration, he has very accelerated healing and benefits hugely from Witcher healing potions. To accommodate his frequent use of potions, Anderson has a very high tolerance, which has been strengthened by both himself and teachers in his youth by repeatedly testing his limits. In battle, he tends toward longer blades than his fellow Viper’s and keeps a multitude of them on hand. He’s particularly good at using them as projectiles. His signs are used on occasion, but not often; everything but his Yrden and Quen are relatively weak. Sometimes he uses potions to bump up his Igni.
He’s also just a well-read and educated as he is in manga/OVA. The School of the Viper highly valued knowledge, so all Witcher’s received a decent education. Anderson built on this by attending lectures at academy's during his journeying and has visited and appreciated Oxenfurt Academy a few times despite it being a Northern institution.
His visual mutations are fairly mild: bright green, slitted cat eyes and slightly pointed canines. He gets the same sort of toxicity appearance as Geralt in the games if he takes too many potions (reference). He can pretend to be human with some effort, but the eyes are hard to hide since the pupils are slitted and they have a degree of luminescence.
While the keep still stood, Anderson collected information on the Wild Hunt alongside his fellow Witcher’s. He also became a teacher of young Witcher’s, but many of them died during the conflict at the keep and more still when Viper’s had to remain on the path year round instead of wintering at their home. Eventually some of the remaining Viper’s did start wintering at other places/keeps despite their reclusive, secretive nature, but a lot of Viper’s simply remained on the path year round. Anderson is among those who rarely chooses to winter and will instead travel to a warmer climate to do work.
Many provinces in the south are... fairly safe and prosperous, so Anderson often travels around all the Continent to find work. He has some disdain for Northerners like he does Protestants in canon, especially since they treat him like a monster while most Nifgaardian’s don’t even know what he is. Basically, Melitele and the Eternal Fire are stupid, Elves are hot respectable beings, Northerners are barbarians, dwarves and gnomes who??, and god don’t even get him started on Skellige. Typical Nilfgaardian in his opinions.
Alucard:
Alucard is a little harder to figure out since I like to think of Alucard as one of the vampires that arrived during the Conjunction of the Spheres, and we don’t actually know all that much about the world vampires came from... the books have basically nothing. The games expand on vampire lore by giving us three tribes and links to Etruscan civilisation, but its still slim pickings. Since Alucard stayed in society and assimilated, I think it’s fair to say he was part of the Gharasham tribe.
I also think vampires were generally peaceful since if one kills a fellow vampire in the games, they’re rejected and pursued by vampire kind. That might not be the case in the world vampires came from... but since other vampires are the only ones who can kill a fellow higher vampire, they would have to be somewhat peaceful to accommodate their longevity and near inability to die. Alucard might have warred once or twice, but it isn’t until he encounters humans that he really starts going off the rails.
Over a thousand or so years, Alucard kills humans for fun and consumption and gets into human husbandry. When the Witcher’s start being made, numerous of them try to kill him over the years, and all of them fail... until a group surges in together and defeats him. He’s consequently stuck in a state of non-death for a century before a fellow vampire locates him and helps him reform. Luckily, Alucard doesn’t return to his awful ways, because a century of being isolated and stuck in a never-ending state of fear taught him a lesson in basic decency. He develops some respect for humans, and especially for Witcher’s.
His interest turns to observing humans and Witcher’s instead, and they’re a lot more complex and interesting than he gave them credit for. Especially a certain green-eyed Witcher who seems to particularity dislike vampires... he does, however, still indulge in blood on occasion, since he sees no issue with drinking of those who seek battle with him or do ill unto others. Maybe innocents get caught up in that sometimes, but he doesn’t deliberately go after them these days.
On top of being a higher vampire, Alucard would also be an Elder vampire since that seems to be the case for all vampires who came during the Conjunction of the Spheres. It fits the fact that the Elder vampires are incredibly, incredibly powerful beings. Staying true to canon, he’s perhaps the most powerful of Elder vampires, being among the first to arrive and active enough to keep him in peak form, while other Elder vampires are withered recluses.
Since he partakes in so much blood, it could qualify as a drinking problem... but he drinks so much of it that its gotten to the point that it rarely negatively impacts him.
Together:
Alucard finds himself fixated on a vampire hunter Witcher he hears about during his journeying. They clash a few times, and Alucard thoroughly impressed with Anderson’s abilities and it convinces him to tail Anderson through the North (and occasionally in the South). It takes decades for Anderson to warm up to Alucard, but Alucard’s thousands of years old; he can wait! And he does, doggedly pursuing Anderson until they develop an amicable rivalry.
This would probably take place after or before the events of the main books (not the short story ones). Otherwise, there’d be an awful lot going on around them.
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tw3 moods, part 4
BASE GAME GWENTE QUESTE COMPLETE. I AM KING.
you know how i was saying i wanted to use a Nilfgaard deck for the aesthetic well i played a bunch of practice rounds against merchants and put together a good Nilf deck and won the passiflora running Emhyr the Relentless and it was great
i think i might try a Monster deck for the BoW and HoS gwent quests but that’s pretty far in the future.
also, i managed to hit 100 hours on this game without doing a single main quest in skellige lmfao
i learned how to install w3 mods so i could put in Always Full Exp. i waited so long for skellige that nothing was giving me any exp anymore and seeing ‘received: 2xp’ after quests is kind of not fun. now i’m enjoying crossing contracts off again! overleveling is a fake gamer lie.
i figured out the incredibly hilarious fact that geralt’s honey-collecting method involves setting the entire beehive on fire and waiting for it to drop to the ground. geralt hasn’t been friends with bees since he was torturing them with jugs as a witcherling and he’s not about to start now. i haven’t yet figured out what i’m meant to do with all these honeycombs but i sure do got ’em!
the bit where geralt gets put in skellige prison made me chilly. they made him go barefoot :( on the other hand, geralt interacting with what passes for a justice system on this world is fantastic and heartbreaking, he is embittered and impatient and he wants everyone to hurry up and just tell him exactly how bad he’s going to get fucked over today
the way geralt’s face fucking DROPS when eredin shows up in the cave of dreams. [MUFFLED SCREAMING]
also, the way blueboy lists off the herbs everyone’s gotta take—hemlock, henbane, nightshade, etc.—and geralt is like whoa that’s gonna be a hell of a trip like FHSKFJSK of course mr. i-drink-poison-for-a-living knows exactly what kinda trip they’re gonna have. and he’s still just like fuck it this may as well happen to me today.
hjalmar’s quest was actually a tremendous amount of fun, i was kind of putting it off because i don’t enjoy boss battles, but it reminded me a lot of being a kid and how much i loved reading the bits with odysseus and polyphemus (and rereading. i swear i read the polyphemus sequence over twice as often as any of the rest of it). the odyssey was one of my favorite books as a child. yes i was that child. getting folan from the rock trolls was also a lot of fun and having him around for the rest of the investigation was nice. (amazing he could fire a bow with those burns on his hands tbh.) i’m always ten times more willing to wander into horrible dark caves when i have an npc around to be friends with.
i would smooch cerys an craite. geralt should not, that would be weird, but i would.
I PUT THE BABY IN THE FUCKING OVEN
i don’t even have fucking words for this quest i was like ok cerys i support you and then. oh my god. i SCREAMED. i almost missed the timed choice i was too busy freaking out. like. THIS?? THIS IS THE FUCKING CONTEXT FOR THAT???
obviously after all that i crowned her queen. who the fuck picks hjalmar over cerys when she’s obviously the superior candidate like crach says he has no preference but the only point he can give in hjalmar’s favor is “skellige wants a monarch who’ll lead them to battle with nilfgaard” like ok sure crach but i’m gonna back the monarch who won’t immediately fling the isles into emhyr’s maw. may the reign of the first queen of skellige be long and prosperous.
CIRI!!!! IS!!! GAY!!!!!!
i thought lesbian ciri was just a reasonably popular fanon but no you can look a naked woman straight in the eyes as ciri and say “actually, i prefer women,” i love & support my lesbian daughter
the entire last wish sequence killed me FUCKING DEAD
geralt when he says ‘agh, no, not another portal’ and yen tells him to stop whining 😭😭😭
me: ok geralt lets try for a repeat of the unicorn scene [selects dialogue]
geralt: you wanna fuck on the top of a mountain in a dead guy’s bed?
yen: no.
yennefer, darling and best-beloved as she is to me, actually super needs to stop reading geralt’s mind without permission it isn’t cute or funny. it is also, as far as i can see, an invention of the games. bad cdpr [whacks with newspaper]
i’ve now let both the succubi go so i can never make a succubus decoction. rip me. the uncraftable recipe in my alchemy tab is gonna bug me but i just won’t stab women for the crime of being Horny if i don’t have to is that so wrong
i absolutely could not bear to kill any more fucking sirens so around this point i went to get uma. i still have sidequests and Witcher diagrams to get in skellige but sirens and mountains are annoying.
emhyr: i give you leads as fresh as morning dew and this is what i get?
me: well after running around the continent on fifty different side quests the leads were all uh... slightly less fresh.
“forktails this close to the fortress? someone’s been slacking off” go on just drag eskel for filth why don't you geralt
time for everyone to go on their Life-Changing Field Trip with Zuko Geralt
omfg the illusion child with the foglets that Lambert said was copied from his cohort is fucking TINY. it’s probably a reused model because the trainee witchers must have been close to full-grown when they did the trial of the medallion if they were going out on the Path right after but still like... thas bad. witchers are tragedies.
that geralt and eskel’s idea of quality time is dissecting a katakan together (or rather, eskel dissects a katakan and geralt eats an apple...i desperately hope he got the apple out of his pack because it kind of looked like he grabbed it off the nasty-ass katakan table and that’s Gross, geralt)... these guys are fuckin nerds
eskel managing to radiate mom friend energy while practically black-out drunk is extremely powerful
if I was yennefer witnessing three men twice as big as me squeezed into my nice dresses i would have had MUCH harsher words for all of them. those dresses would be unwearable afterwards. also i made the mistake of taking everything off in order to wear yen’s pants which meant geralt woke up on the floor completely naked while everyone else was already busy having their shit together while fully dressed. embarrassing.
vesemir is an extremely fucked-up old dude. ah yes, you know how old people are, nostalgic for their torture tables, just can’t get rid of those. lambert is right about everything
emhyr may be a grade-A douché but geralt’s a little bitch. what’s wrong with morvran leading a banner to kaer morhen, i thought we liked morvran. he’s a horse girl and he’s always polite to us. you don’t even know how to command a company of nilfgaardian soldiers geralt. oh no emhyr will have intelligence about kaer morhen if morvran comes!—he would get the same if it was just the soldiers you think his companies aren’t full of spies??? suck it up and play nice for ciri we need bodies in that castle!! suspect geralt went to ask emhyr literally just to lord over him that he was going to do some fancy magic stuff with ciri that emhyr could never, smh
i have to stop main-questing now and Prepare i want at least three more levels and all of my Witcher gear in order before i head out after ciri
which means i gotta go kill some more sirens.
fuck.
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‘Is it true,’ [Fringilla] said, without raising her head, ‘that Seneschal Ceallach aep Gryffyd visited you, right?’ ‘Yes,’ Assire confirmed. ‘Ceallach visited me, in despair, asking me for help for intercession, with his son, whom Emperor Emhyr has ordered captured, tortured and executed. To whom is a desperate father to turn to, if not a relative? Mawr, Ceallach’s wife, the mother of Cahir, is my niece, my sister’s youngest daughter. Despite this, I promised nothing. Because I cannot do anything in this case. Recently, circumstances have arisen that do not allow me to pull attention to myself.”
-Baptism of Fire
Ok but can i just talk about how declining to intercede on behalf of Cahir in favour of getting involved with the Lodge was a HUGE moral dilemma for Assire?
Up until she got recruited by Philippa, her family meant everything to her. That was her safe place, the only context in which she existed as a person, these people meant EVERYTHING to her. She’s always trod so carefully so she wouldn’t inadvertently cause them to be harmed due to her actions, but when Cahir needed her protection she didn’t do a damn thing because she could not compromise the Lodge.
Assire regretted not intervening for Cahir for the rest of her life, she feels guilty and she feels ashamed and once she got news of his death she was ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATED. She blames herself for it but she also blames the Lodge, esp taking into account the failed operation to take out Vilgefortz, because if that had gone to plan, Cahir would have lived.
The Lodge, to Assire, was her escape plan, her way out of Nilfgaard, out of servitude. With their support, she would have been able to manufacture a disappearing act that would not have raised suspicion and put her family at risk.
I hc that she had a pretty solid plan to fake her own death with their help so no one would suspect that she fled north. What did she get from the Lodge though?
Basically she got locked into staying in Nilfgaard for a LONG time, at constant risk of being discovered and executed, because they needed her there as a spy/double agent. She was a crucial source of tactical information and there was NO WAY that Philippa would have allowed her to ever leave that position.
Also having Assire bring in another Nilfgaardian mage ensured that there was a back up in case Assire blew her cover. She was EXPENDABLE, and once again treated like an object rather than a person, valued for her usefulness rather than her intrinsic worth as a human being (and also her worth as a mage given that Philippa tends to not put much value on the lives of non-mages). Basically it was same shit different day but with nicer clothes, and THAT was what she threw Cahir and potentially the rest of her family under the bus for.
Assire got absolutely blinded by Philippa’s bullshit because you want to bet she PROMISED her that freedom and always made it seem like it was just within reach. Just one more week, one more month, one more year. Philippa lied and Assire WANTED those lies to be true.
Assire catches on to this eventually but her hands are tied, she can’t defy the Lodge because they would absolutely destroy her and it would close off all her hope for making it North eventually after all. Basically at that point seeing the Empire fall is the straw she clutches at because it’s the only way she will ever be free so she’s got no option but to give her everything to the Lodge and their plans, no matter how much she resents them for putting her in that position.
#headcanon#assire#i am thinking about this and....#man this hurts#i also need to write up the verse where she doesn't get killed at loc muinne#me: wow i hate philippa#i mean i love philippa#but i hate philippa
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