Revamp



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    The legends called his kind les visiteurs de la nuit. Despite the stories, Kim had never once gone into a sleeping person’s room with the intention of feeding. He found his sustenance among the drunk and lustful crowds of Boogie Street, his meals a mutually beneficial exchange.

    Until he let himself get distracted. He missed the warning signs, and now he was trapped in Martinaise, desperate to feed, and with no viable candidates except the one man in all Revachol who should be off-limits: his temporary partner, the nameless detective from the 41st Precinct.

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    14 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 46

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    "Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer."

    Roleplaying while in an established relationship: Claire’s a troublemaker. Leon’s a cop. The cuffs come out. Whisky gets spilled. Bad decisions are made.

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    27 May 2026

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    Over the years, Jaskier gets a reputation amongst witchers as the guy who will get you out of bind if you need him to. He’s the witchers’ bard, after all. Need a hand with your injuries? A safe place to hide? A friendly face? Find Jaskier.

    Jaskier, on the other hand, has no idea why witchers in trouble keep bumping into him on the road, but fate is funny that way, isn’t it? He’s certainly not going to turn them away

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    10 Mar 2026

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    “If we are to use you as bait to lure our possessed Witcher here to Kaer Morhen, do you understand what that entails?”

    Jaskier nods, but he remains quiet.

    A slight tremor works its way into his right hand, and Yennefer smirks at its appearance.

    The sorceress scoffs faintly, and she approaches him. There is something in her violet eyes, like a spark that proceeds the wildfire it causes as she comes close, her voice growing low and sharp.

    “He will hunt you,” Yennefer whispers, as though she is reciting some sort of spell, bewitching as she is sardonic, “You cannot hide from him. You cannot outrun him. You cannot overpower him.”

    Jaskier swallows, but he does not waiver. Not even as Yennefer begins to circle him.

    Despite the tears in her dress and the dirt that clings to her form, she remains as entrancing as ever. It’s as though she’s a fever dream Jaskier can only spot from the corners of his eyes.

    Her words come to Jaskier like a mirage, a silhouette muddled in fog. The only solid sensation coming from her being the race her words bring to his heart.

    “You will be at the Witcher’s mercy.”

    That should scare Jaskier.

    But it doesn't.

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    04 Nov 2025

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    Where witchers are death, and Jaskier is a bard with a flare for the dramatic who keeps saying he wants to “just die” in any given situation.
    To Jaskier, this is just a figure of speech. To Geralt, it is very definitely flirting.
    When he decides to finally court the bard, it doesn't quite go as expected, and he finds out just why it is so easy for Jaskier to flirt with death.

     

    ---000---

    Geralt tilts his head to listen, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. The bard has been flirting with him for weeks now, exclaiming he could just die, all over Oxenfurt. At first, Geralt thought the man was being dramatic and didn’t know what he was doing, but no one is that theatrical.

    “Little shit at it again?” Lambert grouses. “Just fucking court him already, pretty boy. Or I might just do it for you.”

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    22 Oct 2025