legsfeedthewolf



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    At least Geralt knows, now. He knows he’s cursed. He knows what it does to living things - both animals and plants. It’s like he’s diseased. He stands, and there’s a clinging wheeze in his chest, which he does his best to ignore.

    After a contract hunting a mage goes awry, Geralt finds himself cursed with sickness, bubbling beneath his skin like a plague. It’s easy enough not to touch anyone - not to pass it on - until he meets Jaskier on the Path.

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    18 Apr 2021

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    17 Apr 2021

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    According to Jaskier, they've lived this day almost a hundred times. Geralt doesn't remember any of them.

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    18 Mar 2021

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    Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

    Geralt and Jaskier have been playing this game for nearly a year, now: staging a proposal in an expensive restaurant to see if they can get a meal on the house. But pretending to be engaged to the person you're secretly in love with is starting to take its toll on both of them - especially when they're caught in the act.

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    17 Mar 2021

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    "Jaskier, how drunk are you?" he asks, and Jaskier breathes a laugh into Geralt's shoulder.

    "I am excellently drunk, Geralt, I've done a very good job of it. I am as drunk as a Skelligen skunk."

    "There are no skunks on Skellige."

    "I am as drunk as a Skelligen monk, then."

    Which is fairly drunk, all things considered; Skelligens don't fuck around about that sort of thing.


    Geralt has been foolish about many things in his long life, and every time to his detriment; he'll not make the mistake of deluding himself that someone like Jaskier, with all the world open to him and everything to offer in return, would ever really choose Geralt's company in that way.

    (Geralt may not be a reliable narrator of his own life.)

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    15 Mar 2021