Another AU: Jaskier was cursed to be a ghost trapped in his old apartment, only able to return to life when someone truly falls in love with him. Then Geralt moves in.
(okay, can I just first say that this ties into a lot of feelings I have about Jaskier, especially the older Jaskier we see in 1x06, starting to take account of his life and his relationships and thinking that what he really wants is for someone to love him, not the persona that he presents, but him, he wants someone to find him valuable, worthy, he wants someone to choose him, to ask him to stay, to want him to stay--by someone, I do mean Geralt specifically, but I feel like Jaskier wants that generally, as well--and then that all just goes straight to hell) SO NOW IāM ALREADY HAVING LOTS OF FEELINGS
This curse, of course, comes with the proviso that Jaskier canāt actually say anything about the curse, other than that heās cursed. He canāt tell anyone how to break it, it just has to happen naturally.
And itās been awhile, you know? Itās been a long fucking time that heās been trapped in this in-between, this limbo, dead but not quite, not restfully, present but not alive in any real sense.
Heās starting to think itās never going to happen, that heās going to be stuck this way in perpetuity, forever caught in this non-existence, because if he doesnāt run the person off immediately at the sight of a ghost in their apartment, they hardly last a month before theyāre tired of the way Jaskier canāt stop talking, canāt stop singing.
(And he tries, he tries so hard to be a worthy living companion, he really does, but he canāt leave the apartment, and he canāt know whatās going on in the world unless the TV is on, unless he browses the internet over his corporeal roommateās shoulder, and the quiet just gets to him, you know? Too much time to think about his life, when he had one, too much time to think about the curse that killed him, but not really, too much time to think about the vast expanse of the future stretching out before him, same shit different day, stuck forever in the clothes he died in, now hopelessly out of fashion, no real chance that heāll ever live again. He needs to talk, he needs a friend, he needs connection, he needs whatever kind of intimacy he can find.)
And then Geralt moves in.
Geralt takes one look at Jaskier, eyes widening slightly, his chocolate lab Roach barking at the spectral figure standing in the kitchen, and he just mutters,Ā āHuh. Well, this wasnāt on the disclosure forms I signed with my lease.ā
(Oh, oh, Jaskier knows heās going to fall in love with this one. And itās going to fucking break his heart when Geralt leaves.)
Except, you see, the thing is, Geralt has more than a passing familiarity with sorcery and monsters and malevolent spirits, and he looks at Jaskier, and he sees the hint of what were once brilliantly blue eyes, and he sees the sunshine that hasnāt quite faded from his aura, and he sees, most of all, the overwhelming sadness that hides in the tiny spaces between Jaskierās words, that lurks when he stops to take a breath (he hasnāt needed to breathe in decades, but old habits, you know), that creeps in when his songs trail off, and he knows Jaskierās no threat to him.
They get to know each other, slowly. Jaskier has no qualms about sharing all the details of his life (except for the details of his not-death; Geralt knows, somehow instinctively, to stay away from that), and he does so readily, usually with jokes and emphatic hand gestures and smiles that are just a little too broad to hide the loneliness thatās crushing him. But Geralt, heās more reticent. Heās never been one to be open, vulnerable.
And yet, and yet. Thereās something about Jaskierās still-mostly-sunny demeanor that makes it easy to share. Maybe itās the fact that he canāt leave the apartment and canāt tell anyone anything about what Geralt says? Maybe itās the way that he, once Geralt starts talking, haltingly, he turns all his focus to Geralt and listens with kind eyes and a soft smile? Maybe itās the way, when Geralt shares something about himself, he could swear that true color starts to seep back into Jaskierās hair, his eyes, his lips.
(Heās dead, Geralt, heās cursed, donāt think about his lips, Geralt, donāt think about it, donāt fucking think about it, oh fuck--)
They canāt touch, which normally would be fine with Geralt (he accepts hugs from Ciri, and sometimes Triss; backslaps from Eskel and Lambert; kisses on the cheek from Yen, but thatās it, nothing more), but this, the fact that he canāt touch Jaskier, that Jaskierās hand just passes through his, it hurts, it stings, and he burns with the wrongness of it, the way Jaskierās face falls every time he tries to lay his hand gently on Geraltās arm, but nothing happens.
His family members have accepted Jaskier, and they did so easily. Eskel and Lambert set up a Netflix account for Geralt, full of long-running TV shows in particular, and they remind Geralt to start an episode just before he leaves for work so it can play throughout the day and Jaskier can have some entertainment. (Vesemir does the same with audiobooks when he learns that Jaskier, in addition to once being a musician, also had a masterās degree in history.)
Triss brings over new bouquets of flowers every three or four days to ensure that Jaskier always has something lovely to look at. And Yen, she figures out the key to breaking the curse early on, and she gives Jaskier a sad smile and murmurs, give him time, and Jaskier whispers back, I have nothing but time.
But it turns out that Ciriās the catalyst, for she adores Jaskier, who adores her right back. He teaches her to sing, he helps her with her homework (he never had a good head for numbers, but thankfully sheās a whiz at them), he listens to her talk about her friends and reassures her when she says I think I like girls and he regales her with story after story of his life, and they make each other smile . . . .
And one day, Geraltās sorting through a stack of mail, Roachās head lying in his lap, and Ciri and Jaskier are taking turns running through lines and songs for Ciriās audition for the school musical--theyāre doing Wicked this year--and something slots into place in Geraltās chest, and he realizes that this, this strange life with his teenage daughter and his brothers and his ex-wife and her girlfriend and the ghost in his apartment, it fulfills him in ways he never expected, and he wants Jaskier with him, always, he wants to make him smile, always, he wants to hear him sing, always, and and and
Suddenly Ciriās screaming, and he looks over, and there Jaskier is, in full-blown technicolor, and Geralt nearly falls off the couch in his haste to get over there immediately and Jaskierās the one who touches him first, hand on the arm, hesitant, so fucking gentle, and Jaskier says, tears falling down his face, Geralt please kiss me--
And Geralt does, and he never wants to stop.Ā
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