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witcherficwriters · 1 year
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It's #WitcherWips Friday, but before we get to that: We've set up a discord (click to join)!
Reblog this post with a snippet or screenshot from your WIP, including any mentioned ships and warnings, and please keep your excerpt T-rated.
We will only like/reblog WIPs with mentioned ships and warnings.
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astaldis · 1 year
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Just a little WIP Friday snippet ...
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crunadh · 3 years
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It's Friday, which means it's #WitcherWIP on Twitter, but I thought I'd crosspost today's snippet since it's for a prompt I'm writing for @the-buttcher-of-blaviken. The prompt is "prankster accomplices". Current status is about 75% done and 3200 words.
The snippet below the cut is from a scene I just redid today, because the first attempt didn't really work for me.
Vesemir woke from a nice afternoon nap to the sound of muffled snorts and giggles. Already fearing the worst, he opened his eyes to find the boys, Ciri and that blasted cat witcher all standing in the open door to the library, where he had dozed off seated in an armchair. He was an old man, he was entitled to the occasional nap, damn it all!
“See, I told you you were being too loud,” hissed Ciri.
It was indeed a wonder that the commotion hadn’t woken him before. It should be impossible that four witchers and a girl could even open the door without him noticing. Maybe he was really getting old?
“What’s up, you blighters?” he grumped, “Never seen a sleeping man before? Can a man not get a few minutes of shut-eye in this keep without being ogled?”
“We were actually just coming to get you for dinner. But I see you are already dressed up for it!” answered Lambert cheerfully.
It was already dinner time? He had only wanted to rest his eyes for five minutes! Wait. He was dressed up? He warily looked down on himself, vividly remembering the incident with Ciri’s wardrobe a few days back, but found nothing unusual.
Until the brim of a hat dropped over his eyes. Dammit they had found the cylinder again!
P.S. Of course it's not just the cylinder, which is what Vesemir is going to find out in a minute...
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astaldis · 1 year
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Chapters: 14/17 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Marti Södergren, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Torture, magical torture, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, The Way You Shake and Shiver, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Seizurefic, Waking up disoriented, Silent Panic Attack, Everything Hurts and I'm Dying, breaking point, repeatedly passing out, Fetal position, Catatonic, Muffled Screams, headache, hair grabbing, Head trauma, Defiance, Please don't touch me, You Better Start Talking, coughing up blood, Screams From Across The Hall, The Very Noisy Night, Witcher fic, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Voice, Tossing and turning, Withdrawal, shaking hands, no way out, No One's Coming, Stumbling Series: Part 1 of Sewer pals Summary: Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ... (Lucky for him, Marti Södergren is a dedicated healer.)
Whumptober 2022 Prompts: No. 7: Shaking hands No. 28: Headache No. 29: Defiance
After a very enjoyable evening with plenty of thank you treats, the redheaded sorceress sleeps deeply and late into the morning. Her very last morning in Aretuza, at least for now. She dons her yellow dress with the red tulips - luckily, the bloodstains did come off - and magically packs everything else into her traveling case. Still full from the previous evening's overindulgence of food, she decides to skip breakfast. She will have a nice little lunch at home with Pumuckl, something with eggs, salmon and dill. Yes. But first things first, the prisoner needs some breakfast. Porridge with fresh fruit might be a good idea. Let's see if the cook can make some. Moreover, she must not forget about the report and the questionnaire before she leaves. Tissaia already thanked her and said her good-byes yesterday evening because she has some important meeting to attend today - presumably something boring about politics -, so Marti will just leave the paperwork on the headmistress's desk. The completed and very tidy and orderly paperwork, of course, as Tissaia is not only a stickler for rules, but also for order and tidiness. Which will not be a problem as with everything work-related Marti is very tidy and orderly herself. Not so much so with other things, however, like, for example, her home. She prefers it a bit messy, lived in, not as sterile as Tissaia's chambers. Besides, try to keep the ginger cat hair off your sofa or bed or your everything. Even with magic it is absolutely impossible, and why bother in the first place?
Not much later and equipped with her usual bag plus a mess tin filled with creamy porridge, Marti enters the dungeon cell. Cahir is standing by the window, this time with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He did not forget, excellent. As it is far past any usual breakfast time, she lets him eat first. Sitting down on the low footstool in the corner - the only other piece of furniture in the prison cell beside the bed - she takes a parchment and quill out of her bag and goes through the questionnaire. Some of the questions she can answer easily without Cahir's help. Does the patient suffer from headaches? Yes-tick. Does the patient react to sounds? Yes-tick. Does the patient follow simple orders? Yes-tick. Does the patient exhibit aggressive or self-harming behaviour? No-tick. And so on. Just a dozen or so questions left that she needs to discuss with the Nilfgaardian. She glances up from the document and hears the clatter of metal. He has just finished his late breakfast and put the tin bowl onto the floor beside the cot. Perfect timing.
"Cahir, I need to ask you some questions." The prisoner looks at her with sudden alarm ...
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42355635/chapters/109076349
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astaldis · 1 year
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@popcorn1989​
Chapters: 13/17 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Marti Södergren, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Torture, magical torture, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, The Way You Shake and Shiver, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Seizurefic, Waking up disoriented, Silent Panic Attack, Everything Hurts and I'm Dying, breaking point, repeatedly passing out, Fetal position, Catatonic, Muffled Screams, headache, hair grabbing, Head trauma, Defiance, Please don't touch me, You Better Start Talking, coughing up blood, Screams From Across The Hall, The Very Noisy Night, Witcher fic, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Voice, Tossing and turning, Withdrawal, shaking hands, no way out, No One's Coming, Stumbling Series: Part 1 of Sewer pals Summary: Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ... (Lucky for him, Marti Södergren is a dedicated healer.)
Whumptober Prompts: No. 31: Comfort
The next morning - admittedly not as early as she originally intended to but quite a bit later in the morning - Marti makes her way down to the dungeons once again. If she had to, she would certainly find her way blindfolded by now, despite the many turns and forks. Well, soon she will have to go there for the very last times. If all is well with the prisoner, or well enough, she will pack her things and portal home tomorrow after breakfast. That is the plan. Cross your fingers that it will work.
When she turns the last corner and looks through the grille door into the cell, the redheaded healer is in for a surprise. Whether a good or a bad one is difficult to say. The Nilfgaardian is not sleeping and neither is he lying in bed, but he is standing by the window, his lean body pressed against the stone wall, his head resting on the angling windowsill, long, slender fingers digging into the cracks between the stones. Did he try to catch a glance of the ocean? Most likely a futile effort as the window is too high up in the wall to see much more than the cloudy late morning sky. The man is shivering in the cold but does not seem to mind or even notice. Marti can hear soft sounds, too. Is he moaning or - humming some kind of simple melody? He does not turn around when the healer enters the cell although she purposely did so more noisily than she usually would. Is he so deeply lost in thought that he did not hear her? It is not another catatonic episode, is it? They can manifest themselves in a behaviour like this, standing in the same position for hours, repeating meaningless phrases all over or monotonous snippets of a favourite tune. If it is, then good-bye to her plans of leaving tomorrow ...
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42355635/chapters/109004193
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astaldis · 1 year
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Chapters: 13/17 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Marti Södergren, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Torture, magical torture, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, The Way You Shake and Shiver, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Seizurefic, Waking up disoriented, Silent Panic Attack, Everything Hurts and I'm Dying, breaking point, repeatedly passing out, Fetal position, Catatonic, Muffled Screams, headache, hair grabbing, Head trauma, Defiance, Please don't touch me, You Better Start Talking, coughing up blood, Screams From Across The Hall, The Very Noisy Night, Witcher fic, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Voice, Tossing and turning, Withdrawal, shaking hands, no way out, No One's Coming, Stumbling Series: Part 1 of Sewer pals Summary: Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ... (Lucky for him, Marti Södergren is a dedicated healer.)
Whumptober prompt: No. 7: Shaking hands
The withdrawal symptoms last all night and most of the morning but do not get worse. Several long walks down to the dungeons and plenty of herbal tea later, the shaking has stopped and the prisoner is finally sleeping as peacefully as hoped for. Time for Marti to do the same. If she is lucky, for more than two, three hours in a row. Six hours would be nice. Seven even better. And eight, can you imagine eight hours of undisturbed sleep? Pure luxury, bliss. Marti lets herself sink into bed with a sigh.
"Don't you dare wake me up," she admonishes the shining blue glass sphere that is hovering quietly above her nightstand, then closes her eyes. It takes less than a minute and the exhausted healer is as deeply asleep as her one remaining patient. Only that her bed is a lot more comfortable...
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42355635/chapters/108955797
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astaldis · 1 year
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@witcherficwriters
Chapters: 10/17 Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Marti Södergren, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Torture, magical torture, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, The Way You Shake and Shiver, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Seizurefic, Waking up disoriented, Silent Panic Attack, Everything Hurts and I'm Dying, breaking point, repeatedly passing out, Fetal position, Catatonic, Muffled Screams, headache, hair grabbing, Head trauma, Defiance, Please don't touch me, You Better Start Talking, coughing up blood, Screams From Across The Hall, The Very Noisy Night, Witcher fic, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Lost Voice, Tossing and turning, Withdrawal, shaking hands, no way out, No One's Coming Series: Part 1 of Sewer pals
Summary: Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ... (Lucky for him, Marti Södergren is a dedicated healer.)
Whumptober Prompts: No. 21: Coughing up blood No. 22: Withdrawal No. 31: Comfort
The high-pitched beeping of the wooden box tears her from her well-deserved morning nap. Again. Marti groans. The shittiest of shit ideas, indeed. Next time she will just ignore any call for help by teleprojection, she swears to herself. Maybe she should get one of these magical firewalls that warp the signal so badly that nobody can understand a thing? Then she will be able to just stay at home with her cat and the occasional human lover and ignore the rest of the world ...
However, as much as she hates the prospect of having to walk down to the dungeons for the umpteenth time, she cannot ignore the urgent alarm. It would totally go against her ethos of vocation. And, in spite of what some jealous sorceresses might whisper behind her back, healing is her vocation, has always been ever since she was a little girl, even before the slightest hint of magic manifested itself. The dedicated healer sits up with another groan, reaches for the box on the nightstand next to her bed and pushes the button to quickly silence it before having a closer look. Again it shows a far too rapid heart rate. It cannot possibly be another nightmare? The sedative ought to prevent any such episode for a good while longer. But what else could it be? Well, she will soon find out. After once more having mastered the long miles of pointless trudging down into the very bowels of Aretuza, curtesy of the headmistress. Thank you very much, Tissaia de Vries ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
The prisoner does not look good. He is more pallid than ever, wheezing and trembling worse than before, and, besides the scarlet drops of fresh blood on them, the man's lips display the tell-tale bluish discolouration of cyanosis. Darn. Marti hunkers down next to the sick Nilfgaardian to feel his temperature. There is a big dark stain on the mattress next to his face. Blood. Not good, no. Has his pneumonia worsened despite the medication? 
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42355635/chapters/108878919
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astaldis · 1 year
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WIP Tag Game
Thank you @powerofadyingsun for tagging me!
rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.
This is what’s in my WIP folder at the moment:
Not cruel by nature
Long way
Under the mistletoe
Black (K)night
Dear friend
Tagging @popcorn1989​ @iwannadobadthingswithu​ @virevoltantes​ @woahpip​ (sorry if I have perhaps double-tagged you, the earlier post did not show up anywhere, that’s why I’m trying again.)
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astaldis · 1 year
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Chapters: 8/?
Fandom: The Witcher (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Vilgefortz of Roggeveen/Tissaia de Vries Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Vilgefortz of Roggeveen, Marti Södergren Additional Tags: Whumptober 2022, Torture, magical torture, Spoilers for The Witcher (TV) Season 2, The Way You Shake and Shiver, Poor Unfortunate Souls, Seizurefic, Waking up disoriented, Silent Panic Attack, Everything Hurts and I'm Dying, breaking point, repeatedly passing out, Fetal position, Catatonic, Muffled Screams, headache, hair grabbing, Head trauma, Defiance, Please don't touch me, You Better Start Talking, coughing up blood, Witcher fic
Summary: Tissaia is trying to extract information from the Nilfgaardian prisoner in the Aretuza dungeons with Vilgefortz's help. Cahir is not having a good time ...
Whumptober Prompts: No. 7: Silent panic attack No. 9: Tossing and turning No. 28: Headache No. 31: Comfort
The utter darkness does not feel so bad. Maybe this is death? Deep, undisturbed sleep forever and ever. Could be worse. Lots of worse. He feels like he is floating in this numbing, almost soothing sea of blackness. Weightless, bare of any emotions or conscious thoughts, just existing. Or perhaps not existing? Was that a thought? It is already drifting away, dissolving in the inky darkness of his mind. Or of the universe? Who knows? Not he, he is far too tired to know or to care. And why would he?
Unfortunately, this almost welcome state of limbo does not last. It is getting cold again, freezing cold. And hot. A desert bleached and blighted by the searing sun. The pain creeps back onto him, too, slowly at first, like a snake soundlessly slithering toward its prey. Then with a vengeance. Every breath he takes radiates with intense agony, and his head does not feel any better than his chest. On the contrary. He whimpers and moans, tosses and turns in his feverish sleep. Then, exhausted to the core, he is dragged down again into an abyss deeper and darker than the howling chasm that opened up before him not far from the burning Cintra.
All of a sudden something is grabbing him. Hands. On his shoulder, his hip, tearing him from his heavy, death-like sleep. His eyes shoot open in boundless panic. Please, not her, let it not be her! He gasps, then starts to shake, to cough. Violently. His chest is on fire, his lungs ripped to shreds by the relentless, burning cough attack. He cannot breathe. He is suffocating, desperately fighting for air. Then, through half-open, fever-bright eyes a blur of red and yellow leaning toward him. A face? Not her face, no, nor her voice. A woman with flaming-red hair. What she says, he does not comprehend, but it sounds friendly, soothing, not threatening. Not asking questions he cannot, will not answer. Her hands are soothing, too, not mercilessly digging into his scalp like raptor claws. A comforting touch, not torture. No magic attacking his mind, making his world explode with excruciating pain. She feels safe. Like she wants to help. Why? He cannot say. Does it matter? Too tired to think, he sinks into her embrace, falling deeply into an exhausted sleep as soon as the worst of the coughing fit is over.
Through the hazy daze of his mind the friendly voice again. Something is pressed against his lips, her arm cradled around his head, holding him up a little so he can drink. His eyelids are too heavy to open, but he swallows the viscous, tasteless fluid obediently. And the tea. Before the soothing blackness of sleep envelops him like a warming blanket.
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astaldis · 1 year
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Me reading the latest chapter in one of my favourite Cahir x Yennefer fanfiction series ‘Touch of a Sorceress’: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2805838
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