zoso



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    “It’s a wolf, not a dog,” Geralt says flatly.

    “It’s hurt.”

    “It’s a wolf.”

    “I’m helping it,” Ciri says, ignoring him, and turns back to the wolf.

     

    But when is a wolf not a wolf? When it's everyone's favourite humble bard, of course!

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    17 Jan 2022

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    "For a while, Jaskier doesn’t know he’s cursed. It feels like free will, going back down that mountain, just as dangerous down as the way up, and alone this time, too. The descent is fast, maybe even reckless, but Jaskier’s feeling numb and out-of-sorts anyways, Geralt’s words simmering in his mind, and at the time it doesn’t feel like he’s being pulled on by anything but his own desire to get away."

    Based off a post that Geralt's words on the mountain are granted by the djinn.

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    16 Jan 2022

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    “How much did you use?” Geralt growls, teeth finding a new home in Jaskier’s neck.

    Jaskier hums happily and tips his head to the other side so Geralt can peruse the real estate over there, too.

    “Concentrate, Jaskier! How much did you use?” Water sloshes over the sides of the tub as Geralt hoists him halfway out, then pulls him back down so they’re sitting flush, Jaskier’s thighs thrown wide over Geralt’s.

    “Hm,” Jaskier says, a little dreamily. He gestures at the empty bottle on the floor. “How much was in there?”

    Geralt swears in what sounds like Elder tongue.

    Speaking of tongues…

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    15 Jan 2022

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    15 Jan 2022

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    “And what do you want in return?  Your freedom? Your safety?”

    Jaskier didn’t flinch from her scorn and Geralt could see his knuckles go white with the force of his grip around the small vial.  “Save him.”

    The mage stared at him for a beat before letting out a burst of laughter that echoed off the wall like the flutter of vultures wings.  “All this trouble for the Witcher?” she asked incredulously, “Tell me, boy, do you really think he would do the same for you? That he cares at all what happens to the bard who follows after him like a lost puppy?”  She stepped forward, confident as a soldier preparing his death blow. “Oh, I know who you are, bard. I watched you trailing after the Witcher, eager for every scrap of affection or interest he’ll toss your way. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

    Jaskier was breathing heavily now, jaw clenched tight enough that Geralt could see the muscles fluttering with effort.

    “Were you hoping this ill-conceived rescue mission would be enough to make him finally notice you?” she murmured with a mocking smile, “Poor little bard--always singing of love but never truly experiencing it.”

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    14 Jan 2022