pathsofpassion

Mouette, Paths of Passion



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  1. Rec *

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    “How did you manage,” asked Geralt, with infinite patience and only a desire to know the facts, and not at all a little meanhearted glee, “to insult a sorcerer while his tongue was down your throat?”

    Don’t make me recount the entire sordid affair, Geralt,” said Jaskier, with a surprising note of desperation breaking through his gruff monotone. “I’m already having a rather shit day and all I’ve done so far is wake up.”

    “In my body,” said Geralt.

    “Yes,” said Jaskier, with the insolent cadence that was unmistakably Jaskier’s, but in Geralt’s voice, emerging from Geralt’s face and frame.

    “And I’ve got yours,” said Geralt, from Jaskier’s.

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    27 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    O, Empathy
    almostnectarine

  2. Rec *

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    If Jaskier keeps trying to make up a sonnet in his head about how well Geralt fucks, nobody needs to know. Least of all Geralt, though sometimes he’s daydreaming and Geralt nudges him, expression suspicious as though he knows.

    Witchers aren’t mind-readers, Jaskier is fairly sure. It still makes him a little nervous.

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    27 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    it ain't over 'til he sings
    etterklang

  3. Rec *

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    Geralt hadn't believed in the horseshit about soulmates until he punched a bard in the gut.

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    26 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    with naught but a punch
    troubadore (oldusername)

  4. Rec *

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    Jaskier sits under a tree by himself, separate from the group but not entirely out of sight. Geralt's chest suddenly feels tight, like some great weight is settled on him and making it hard to breathe. There's an ache where his heart is and he recognizes, belatedly, that it's guilt—guilt for what he'd shouted earlier, for pushing the bard away with his anger and harsh words. 

    He stands, uncertain, fighting with himself for a moment, then he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, letting it out slowly, and makes his way over to Jaskier. 

     

    or

    Geralt apologizes

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    26 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    a quiet too loud
    troubadore (oldusername)

  5. Rec *

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    Selkimore guts continue to drip down Geralt's shoulders from his hair, and Jaskier wonders just exactly when he’d gotten accustomed to their awful rotten meat smell during his travels with Geralt.

    He thinks it says something about him, about his devotion and loyalty—or just his absolutely hopeless feelings for a witcher, but Jaskier likes to pretend he’d do it even if he weren’t deeply, madly, insanely in love with gold eyes and white hair.

    He wouldn’t, probably, but he likes to pretend he would.

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    26 Dec 2025

    Bookmarker's Notes

    (you make me) the happiest fool alive
    troubadore (oldusername)