Beautifully Written By A Gorgeous Anon - Tumblr Posts

“You love selfishly,” the witch told Geralt, which was pretty presumptuous seeing as how they’d met all of 5 minutes ago. And those 5 minutes had been spent trying to kill each other. “This selfishness will hurt you and those you love. Until you learn to love selflessly, you will only take your pleasure in the pleasure of others.”

Even as the curse took hold, Geralt didn’t panic. As curses went, it didn’t sound so bad. The bit about “pleasure” made it sound like it was about sex. Like, he wouldn’t be able to feel good unless his partner did, which was a standard Geralt held for himself anyway.

Only, the curse was much more than what he had assumed. Geralt soon discovered that food had lost its taste, that he tossed and turned all night. He wasn’t in pain, but he was never comfortable.

Fuck.

Through trial and error, Geralt learned the rules of his curse. It was pretty simple really. He couldn’t enjoy anything in life alone. Someone had to be nearby and enjoying it with him. Their pleasure was his pleasure. If that person wasn’t pleased with a meal—or in general—Geralt’s food would taste poorly too.

This made things difficult for Geralt. He had a solitary profession. Additionally, the people he did meet were never comfortable around him: all scared of hateful or suspicious.

Geralt found some work arounds though. Roach was a lifesaver: if she was eating, he could eat nearby and taste his meal. As long as she slept well—and nearby—he could sleep.

Winter was better: he explained his situation to his brothers, and he was never left without a companion. They offered to travel with him on the path, but he refused. He could endure the rest of the year as long as he had Roach

Geralt considered breaking the curse; however, he honestly wasn’t sure how. He honestly didn’t believe in love that was completely selfless. Relationships were always about give and take. People always wanted things from one another.

Years passed, Geralt endured, and then he met Jaskier.

Jaskier was… odd. He had taken one glance at a witcher, a rumored butcher, and decided that Geralt was his traveling companion. And then his muse. And then his friend. No matter how Geralt tried to disabuse him of any of these notions.

He did admit that having Jaskier with him made the path easier. He didn’t have to carefully time his meals and sleep around Roach when the bard was around. Jaskier was also surprisingly easy to please. Geralt could give him stale bread to eat and a lumpy mattress to sleep on, and the bard exuded joy.

Even while complaining the entire time.

The oddities continued when Geralt discovered that Jaskier didn’t have to eat a meal to enjoy it. Once, Geralt had been grievously injured, and Jaskier had insisted on spoonfeeding him. Even though the bard didn’t eat a morsel, the bard was so happy that the soup tasted like ambrosia to Geralt.

It was all so strange, and it made Geralt strange too. He caught himself thinking about how to make Jaskier happy. Not because of the curse. Because…because it was Jaskier, and Jaskier was meant to be happy.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! I love this!!!