muumipeikko



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    In which Ciri suspects but cannot confirm.

    Or,

    Geralt and Jaskier get domestic. Well, as domestic as they can.

    Language:
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    23 Sep 2020

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Jaskier's student doesn’t see him when she skids into the tavern. Her friends are already present, drinking merrily, and she slaps their table so hard their tankards rattle.

    “Have you heard?" She flashes a gossiper's secretive grin. "The White Wolf’s gone mad.”

    After Geralt sends Jaskier away, Jaskier returns to Oxenfurt and builds a good (albeit unfulfilling) life there. He's fine—moving on, truly—until gut-wrenching rumors start to circulate that the White Wolf's lost his his mind. Jaskier's a bard. A truth-teller. He can't just let the rumors go unsubstantiated.

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    23 Sep 2020

  3. Public Bookmark *

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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.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
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    21 Sep 2020

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “Dragons that lay eggs, are more properly referred to as Dragonkind. They grow to be ten feet tall, walk on two legs, are...somewhat humanoid, and they have a single sex.”

    “So the same dragon lays the eggs and fertilizes them?”

    “Hm.”

    “...I’m still missing something.”

    “Dragonkind need a host to incubate their eggs for the first few hours after laying.”

    “Ohh, so the sheepskin and hot water bottle is to keep it snug while you’re holding it against your chest. I see. Bit of a cuddle.”

    “No, Jaskier.”

    “...they lay the egg, and then you cuddle it, and they, er. Fertilize it while you’re curled around it? Bit sticky, still doesn’t explain the size of the reward.”

    “No, Jaskier.” Geralt added thoughtfully, after a moment. “And the one in this territory uses ‘he.’ Not they.”

    “He. Good to know. Well gods damn it then, Geralt, why don’t you explain to me in direct language where little dragons come from then?”

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    19 Sep 2020

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    “Jaskier,” Geralt says with thinly veiled exasperation. “Tell me you did not inhale it.”

    “I didn’t inhale it…?” Jaskier laughs nervously.

    Geralt sighs. “For a bard, you are remarkably unskilled at lying.”

    He can smell the pheromone shift already, as the spores take effect inside Jaskier’s body. The scent clouds his thoughts, and he struggles to focus on anything except… well. Gods-damn, it’s going to be a long night.

    Language:
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    19 Sep 2020