#netfix witcher

Rating: throw your cock to your witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Summary:  “Like that dandy has ever bedded a woman,” the woman at the next table scoffed. “All those sexy songs of his are about that Witcher.”

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A/N: I can only apologise to Taylor Swift for what I have done, but look I have a lot of feelings about Jaskier the Bard and how he uses his own experiences in his songs, the parallels are THERE alright? And I can’t help it, when a chance to write a farce and punctuate it with porn and feelings, I take it.

You get a point for every TSwift reference you spot, leave it in the comments. 

OK SO-

Jaskier dies.

Maybe it's heroic. Maybe it's not. Maybe Geralt and Yen were there. Maybe they weren't. Maybe Ciri still beats herself up about not being fast enough. Maybe she doesn't. Maybe Geralt knew when it happened. Maybe he didn't. Maybe it was traumatic. Maybe it wasn't.

Point is, Jaskier is dead. Jaskier has been dead for centuries.

----

Geralt and Yen and Ciri are on the path still, when they stop for the night. There's a fire burning, and they're all exhausted, but Ciri is still cold, and struggling to sleep.

She could swear someone just draped their coat over her. Is holding her close. Is humming a tune long forgotten by the world. There is no-one there, but somebody is stroking her hair regardless. She closes her eyes, pretending they don't sting, that she isn't deluding herself into thinking that he is singing her to sleep, because surely Yen and Geralt would notice if they had been being haunted for the past several hundred years.

----

Years later, Yen is striking out on her own for a bit. It's not that she doesn't love her family, but she does need a break from them at times.

She is taking the long route to what was once called Cintra, because if being functionally immortal has taught her one thing, it's that she has the time to get lost in the woods. If she didn't know better, she would say that she was being followed. But there is nothing there, magical or otherwise. Even so, she is being followed. Or, perhaps, haunted. She doesn't deal with hauntings much- it's more of a Witcher's job than a Mage's, but every Mage knows the basics.

For whatever reason, her ghostly companion can't or won't show their face, but are present enough that she feels followed. She abruptly sits where she stands, and addresses the air.

"I don't have the equipment for a proper seance on me, but I am willing to allow you to perform a minor possession on me." The air is still for a long moment, as is her mind, before she gets-

unease-sorrow

a flicker-bright-snatch-of-song he never wrote

apology-fear

not-leaving-not-leaving-please

And then, clearer than the rest-

will-leave

if-you-ask

will-leave

wont-put-you-through-making-me

love-you-miss-you

NEW FIC ALERT!!!

Rating: So hot I can’t even think of a pithy fake rating.

Summary: In which spring has sprung, Jaskier has a new song cycle, and Geralt pledges allegiance to a queen.

Sequel to look what you made me do, now part of a series called a friend for all seasons