iscariots



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    “You need not thank me,” Emhyr said. “I have an ulterior motive.”

    It annoyed Geralt to be surprised. He should’ve known from the start. “Yeah?” The words came out with a little bite. “Have another daughter you need me to track down?”

    “If I wished to hire you, I would hire you,” Emhyr said. “No: I want you to come to my bed.”

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    17 Feb 2020

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    Geralt had no damn idea what to do with a vineyard when Anna Henrietta gave him Corvo Bianco, but he figured it couldn’t be that bad.

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    16 Feb 2020

  3. Public Bookmark 15

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    16 Feb 2020

  4. Public Bookmark 20

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    Bucky almost started looking at their boots. Being a Howler guaranteed you the top grade. They even got the original pork shoulder SPAM to choke on, instead of off-brand. The first few cans had been a relief. The next hundred, less so.

    Next to Bucky’s feet was a breathing fella, eyes cracked open and watering. Head caved in around a rock. He smelled a few more agonizing hours from death unless it got cold enough. No fear stench. The fear stench was good, in its own way. Like somebody swallowing wrong and then getting enough air to cough. It was when you had the wet, airless choke a fella had cause to worry.

    No boots. To the victor'd already gone the spoils.

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    11 Feb 2020

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Geralt is not making a nest. Jaskier has noticed this. Geralt is in fact drinking a rather foul-smelling potion that sours the sweetness of his scent and muffles its otherwise obvious meaning.

    “Does that stop heat?” Jaskier asks curiously, absentmindedly tuning his lute as he speaks. He hadn’t thought anything could, but, well . . . witchers and their potions.

    “No,” Geralt says darkly.

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    01 Feb 2020

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