Leora_Winters



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    Jaskier's never been the best at considering consequences, but he's sure it'll turn out fine when he sings Geralt to sleep. He's a good singer, after all—and a siren, which is the bit that'll be a bit more complicated to explain in the morning.

    (The murders and the necromancers and the hysterical teenagers only serve to complicate things further, but that's a problem for later on.)

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    24 Feb 2020

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    “…I’m a bard and you seem a man full of interesting stories. Perhaps you’ll spare me a few and as payment I can keep you company?”

    The witcher seemed taken aback, his gold eyes widening just briefly, but he could see his nostrils flaring with interest. It hadn’t been long, but he knew the White Wolf had gotten the scent of him. Alphas couldn’t resist, slaves to their instincts that they were. “I thought you were a bard, not a whore.”

    “Is there much difference?”

    ***

    In which Geralt is oblivious, Jaskier is frustrated, and somehow everything turns out alright.

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    19 Feb 2020